Soulmate Cravings

Maew

During the 13th Century

     The night was unforgivingly breezeless, not a whisper through the trees or a moment of reprieve from the hot, humid evening. The streets were almost empty, as most had gone home to their bamboo folding fans or crowded at the water outlets to find some comfort from the sweltering heat. Maew was at his booth on the main market street, hastily packing up his wares for the night, knowing the weather was too cruel to draw a crowd this late at night. Feeling that uncomfortable feeling in his gut that he was not where he should be. The night weighing a warning of doom around it that made no sense in the still night air.

     He'd always been that way, able to taste the energy of the surrounding air. He would always know by his gut whether the day or simply a moment would be good or bad. It was a useful talent he used to monitor his sick sister. Whether to know if she just needed rest or a healer, depending on the taste of the air around them. The air's sentiment at the moment was contrastingly chilly compared to the unrelenting heat of the evening. He was hunched over, putting several paintings away, when he sensed someone approaching. He straightened out as a musical-voice asked, "Did you paint these?"

     Maew turned towards the voice and saw a figure wearing a cloak that nearly completely covered their face and body. The voice sounded feminine, but he couldn't tell for sure. Maew couldn't fathom how the stranger could wear that much in this heat. Something felt off and Maew couldn't place it, but the figure was smaller than he was and alone, so he couldn't understand the prickle in his blood telling him there was something wrong. He brushed off the unsettling feeling as he answered, "Yes, I did."

     "They are quite beautiful. But then again, you always have been as talented as you are beautiful," the stranger said in a tone that was praising with a hint of patronization and derision masked in it.

     "Thank you," he said with an unsure voice, confused at to whether he had just been complimented, "Are you interested in any of these?" he asked in a kind tone, even though he was silently wishing for the stranger to go away since the longer they stayed the more uneasy he felt.

     The stranger seemed to be on their own mental train of thought, however, since instead of answering his question, they continued on the same thought process from their previous statement. They spoke with a thoughtful, musing kind of tone, one full of random curiosity and observation. "It's amazing how beautiful you are. I mean, obviously still nothing compared to me, but it doesn't matter in the end. The results are always the same. He still only sees you. Well, who you used to be anyway. I won't let him see you now. Still, each time I think you couldn't get any prettier, a few centuries later you come back even more beautiful than you were in your previous life." The stranger paused for a moment and gave a wistful sigh. "Of course, contesting your beauty would have always been useless. He would not love you so much if you weren't beautiful, right?"

     Maew looked at the stranger in sympathy and finally realized his earlier prickle of unease. Their musings were giving hints of having the brain sickness. He couldn't tell if the sickness was permanent or caused by the heat addling their wits. Either way, it didn't matter; the stranger was a danger to themselves if anyone heard their unhinged ravings. The stranger had made it seem they had known him over several centuries throughout different lifetimes, and while he believed in reincarnation, that didn't mean he believed a person could watch another person live through several spans. That would make the first person several centuries old, which was impossible. Not only that, but the stranger had alluded to a male loving him and finding him beautiful, which was one of those taboos that people knew better than to speak about aloud. "I intend no harm, nor offense, but I think you've been in the heat too long. You should get home to your family before someone thinks your heat illness is something deeper," Maew said kindly, worried that someone would overhear the stranger and imprison them for madness, even though everyone knew the heat could do weird things to people's minds.