I told the stars about you, Hoping one day you'd answer

Chapter three

TW: for brief mentions of self harm

The first phantom mark he could remember getting was when he was five. His soulmate had hit her head against something and he had been left with a pale blue welt on his forehead for a few minutes. He had smiled then, whoever she was, she was clumsy, but he had a soulmate.

He figured out that she was a fairy when he was eight. Sometimes he would get headaches for a few minutes throughout the day that left him seeing pale blue. He didn't know what they indicated until burn marks appeared in blue lines on his arms. He had asked his parents about them, they had told him that the marks were from out of control magic. Magic that had been burned into the person in bursts, most likely when emotions ran high and her magic went so out of control that she channelled it through her hands while gripping her arms so that it hurt her and nothing around her. He often wished he could know who she was at these times, if only to gather her into his arms and tell her she would be ok, that she shouldn't hurt herself to control herself.

He often wondered if she was thinking of him, especially when his training started in earnest and he ended up with new marks or bruises almost daily. He trained to get into Alfea and he hoped she would too.

He was overjoyed when the Alfean mark lit up on his arm just before he got it. For all of his years at Alfea he would try to find her every time any mark appeared. Even when his friends Ben and Rose, two earth fairies, and Andreas, a fellow specialist would tease him, he kept an eye out for her.

The worst time was when he realised how powerful she was. He knew his headmistress gave private night trainings to the best fairies, no one knew who they were but there were rumours that she practically tortured them. He could now attest that these rumours were true. He would sit in the corner of his room when his room mate was to stoned to notice and tears would roll down his cheek as each light blue mark appeared on his body, the worst of which lasted for days at a time. The worst marks were the ones that appeared on his wrist, the many thin, straight lines that most definitely were not accidents. He wondered if she did it for control as she had done with her magic when she was younger.

He felt bad when he eventually gave up searching for her, but really it was Rosalinds fault. Early on at Alfea he had been introduced to a blonde haired fairy called Farah. He hadn't seen much of her until their last years where the headmistress had trained groups of them together. He would watch her practice her magic when she thought people weren't watching. She would sit in a small clearing, sunlight reflecting of her making it seem as though she were glowing, and she would create the most beautiful illusions. He was even happier when they entered the army together, the only thing he hated was that it was an army, but otherwise he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Now when marks appeared on his skin he would spare only a small thought for the fairy on the other end, wishing her well, but he was too wrapped up in the honey haired warrior he fought beside every day.

When the war was over he had hoped he wouldn't have to love the mind fairy from afar but he had ended up with much more responsibility than he had bargained for and so had she. It was too late to tell her how much he loved her so he settled for being everything she needed. Even so, he couldn't help but feel so much anger when he and Ben had been told about her soulmate. How could anyone to that to her, to Farah Dowling of all people? They would have to be some sort of monster would they not?