Chapter Text
1891
Shane Hollander was born with a white soulmark which meant that his soulmate wasn’t yet born. That was fine, his parents thought. They were sure that the soulmark would soon turn black to indicate Shane’s soulmate was born as well. Shane’s birth had been blessed by the fairies, so how bad could it be. Yuna and David were certain that Shane would reach greatness unlike anyone else in their family.
It didn’t turn black though. Not when he was one year old, not at age five, ten, fifteen or eighteen.
Shane’s parents were more and more worried, but what else were they supposed to do but wait. Shane tried to pay it no mind. At least there was a name on his wrist. It took him a while to learn to read it because it was in Cyrillic letters, but when he started primary school, he just started to learn reading and writing two languages.
Suddenly, he understood why his parents always told him to keep the soulmark covered. He assumed that it was normal, that everyone was supposed to keep it covered, but then he started playing hockey. In school no one really bothered him, but hockey was like a different world to him. Shane didn’t really understand a lot of the things the other kids were saying or doing. He wanted to be a part of the group, but he was Asian and better than anyone else. At some point, he just started to stick to himself and mind his own buisness.
He asked his parents what the words meant that were thrown around in the locker room. They looked at him with pity and explained that the world wasn’t kind to people like him. He didn’t really understand it at the time, but after learning that and realizing what name was written on his wrist, he became obsessive in covering his soulmark.
He told himself that he wasn’t ashamed of the name. He was just private. And he was, but that wasn’t the only reason. Shane was already the odd one out in so many parts of his life. No one but his parents really understood him and his obsession with hockey. Was it so wrong to want one thing that was like everyone else?
At night he would stare at his wrists until he fell asleep, letting his thumb slide over the name again and again. Maybe his soulmate felt the caress and the extra love when he was born.
Илья.
Shane couldn’t wait to meet him, but he was also terrified. Maybe it was good that he had to be patient. Until he met his soulmate, he could work through the fear and shame.
1909
Shane got drafted to the Montreal Voyageurs. He took a lot of pride in that because his mother loved the Voyageurs. Since the very beginning of his training, Shane had been told that he’d be a professional. One of the best of all time. He wanted to use all that talent and hard earned skill to make his mother proud and win cups for his team.
The team was great. Everyone was focused, and they respected Shane because of his skills. The occasional comment about his looks were overheard. No one was hostile to him, and for that he was grateful. His training as a kid had been a different experience.
His rookie season went fine, and he really started to make a name for himself. Everyone told him, he was the best rookie of the season, and the praise flooded Shane with pride. After one season alone, he was rumored to be a captain as soon as the old one retired.
Shane pushed it all away and focused on hockey.
It was all fine until one day in the day after a game against the Bears. Shane was buzzing from the win. He was in the shower with his teammates, as always in the last stall to be able to hide his white soulmark better. So far no one had noticed, but being undressed in front of others was always unnerving. Sadly, he couldn’t wear his watch or long sleeves in the shower, and he couldn’t bear to wait with the shower until he was home. He hated the sticky feeling on his skin.
The others were joking around while Shane showered methodically, eager to be back in his clothes. He couldn’t stop it when Comeau noticed his soulmark though.
“Wow! A white soulmark. Didn’t know you had it in you, Hollander. You have a thing for the young ones?”
The others laughed, but Hayden who was Shane’s closest friend interrupted them. “He’s still young himself. He’s only eighteen. Leave him alone.”
“No, come on, Hollander. Let it see”, Comeau shouted and grabbed for Shane’s wrist.
Frozen by fear, Shane went still and stiff. Not moving an inch, but his teammate didn’t care. He forced Shane’s arm up so he could see the soulmark.
Shane had never felt so naked, and that had nothing to do with his state of undress. His breath started to quicken.
“What kind of chicken scratch is that?”
“That’s Russian,” J.J. said. “I … Il …” He stopped talking, but he was still staring at the letters. “I forgot most of the letters.” It came out timid.
Shane had a distinct feeling that wasn’t why his friend had stopped. Rather the opposite, Shane suspected, but he was even more grateful that J.J. had stopped.
His mind was racing, his heartbeat resembled a hummingbird’s wings, and Shane felt like he had to throw up.
It only got worse after Drapeau came over. His huge goalie was intimidating to Shane, and after getting to know Drapeau, Shane understood why people joked that all goalies were freaks.
“Ilya,” Drapeau said, voice devoid of and emotion. “Isn’t it? Short name. Ilya is a typical Russian name.”
Shane felt cold all over, dread settling in his heart. Despite his fear, he couldn’t help but think that Drapeau wasn’t worthy of speaking his soulmate’s name. The word sounded wrong coming from his mouth. When Shane whispered the name to himself in the safety of his apartment under the cover of the night, his voice sounded like wonder. Like the name alone held the answer to every question of Shane’s life.
Drapeau said the name like an insult, and Shane supposed it was on purpose.
Shane’s reaction was confirmation enough for the goalie.
“The name is Ilya,” Drapeau repeated, and Shane again felt like drowning in ice water. “I always knew there was something wrong with you. No normal person behaves like that. I will play with no queer, and you better get out of here. You’re a great player, but if I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”
Shane didn’t wait for another threat or something worse. He darted from the shower, pulled on some random clothes from his bag, stuffed his belongings in his bag, and ran. He supposed he had to be grateful that he hadn’t been killed right there in the shower. He heard about these kinds of things often enough to know it was a real possibility.
On the next day, people could read about Shane’s transfer to the Ottawa Centaurs in the newspaper. At first, it didn’t seem like much to anyone outside, even if it was certainly unexpected.
Shane’s parents were glad to have their boy home and close enough to protect him, but no reassurance could stop the panic attacks Shane would get when he was supposed to play against Montreal. He was unconsolable and was forced to sit the games out. Again his skill against every other team earned him some benefits, so he wasn’t forced to play.
1914
After several years, Shane felt save enough to step on the ice against his old team for the first time. The Centaurs were great, much more like a family than just a team. It had taken a lot of talking for Shane to overcome his fear.
He felt good when he stepped on the ice that night.
What could Drapeau even do to him on the ice?
The first period was fine. Ottawa played good and was leading by a goal.
By the end of the second period, Shane had convinced himself that he’d been overreacting all this time.
During the third period, Drapeau had the puck. Everyone expected him to play to one of his teammates. Drapeau certainly pretended to do that, but he aimed the puck to Shane’s head and landed a hit.
Shane crumbled to the ice, and even the good Rose Fairy couldn’t reverse an action with such ill intend. She appeared in the middle of the rink, worked her magic, but only managed to lessen the intend to kill to a deep sleep that only the right person would be able to wake Shane from.