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It was known to happen sporadically in a generation, where a being's soul-mark belonged to someone who'd never love them. Whose mark they did not share in return. Completely unrequited.
And the kicker?
The lover wouldn't know until they'd already fallen in love.
Lilia had come to terms with it long ago— she'd already seen that fate ages before it happened, and since had time to process the unpaired mark adorning her skin… and the universe's mocking nature.
Always cursed to be chased by death, just as she once chased her paramour.
Yet every now and then, her fingers still trailed the swirls of feathers that bridged hip to hip… and every once in a while, her palm flattened over the pendant etched into the meat of her left arm.
And she would let herself dream.
Only, some dreams turned to nightmares.
The Witches Road, for instance.
Poisoned, burned… forced to witness the life drain from a newfound friend.
But it wasn't like Lilia hadn't also savored her time there either; Biting back smiles at every glance of the other— going against her judgment and allowing herself to feel as the mark pulsed happily under-clothing… casting everything else aside while her heart sang from proximity alone.
And then it happened.
A weight against her hips— a hand resting against her arm. Her soul mark glowed vibrantly under the pink gown.
Lilia saw it there: the understanding in Agatha's eyes… the hurt when she shoved the woman off.
The confusion at Lilia's final goodbye.
Death hurt a lot less than she'd imagined. A quick burst of pain— then nothing. Seeing herself in the aftermath was harder: head twisted to the side, sword protruding from her chest.
But nothing hurt more than seeing Death herself, all brown eyed and skeletal, draped in ash. In the center of her chest lay the etched pendant mark, surrounded by thorned vines and flowers in full bloom; the two designs meshing together perfectly.
The irony was not lost on her.
Of course the thing that plagued Lilia, was the one being made for her soulmate.
She found herself choking on a laugh as she crossed over, not giving Rio a single added glance. Forever caught in a lover's triangle— nothing could be worse.
Until it was.
The mark on her skin burned as it disappeared. The anguish hit after, once Lilia was certain Agatha was dead.