Simon's POV
I wake up the next morning feeling shitty as usual. I look to the left, expecting to see Baz peacefully sleeping. Instead, his bed is neatly made and there is no sign of him.
I don't know why he got so defensive when I asked him that question yesterday. Then again, it's not like we were friends in the first place.
I look down at my wrists and remember my talk with the Mage. Last week, I went to talk to the Mage about my wrists. I unwrapped my arms and showed him. His expression was unexpected, he seemed glad.
"Simon, this is great news," he said proudly. I was beyond confused.
"What do you mean, sir?" I asked curiously.
He let out a sigh and stated, "Because you have no names on your wrist, it means that you're immortal, you truly are The Chosen One."
I had never thought of it that way. All summer I had thought that something was wrong with me, I guess not. This also meant that I had no soulmate though, which means that Agatha and I weren't meant to be together.
I thanked the Mage and went home.
Ever since I noticed that Baz had also wrapped up his arms, I had wanted to know why. He might even be in the same situation as me.
YOU ARE READING
my chosen one
Fanfictionau where your soulmates name is written on one wrist, and the person who is going to kill you is on the other.
