Elena sighed as she pulled her dress over her head, letting it drop to the floor, leaving her in just her simple, white strapless shift. It had been a long day––a long week, really––and she was beyond ready for it to be over.
It had started busy, but pleasant enough, with preparations for the Sunflower Festival. Elena had been excited about carrying on their old family tradition in honor of her parent's memory. But then the darkness fell like a hammer. Shuriki had returned to finish what she'd started so long ago, and Elena had been through the gamut of emotions––fear, rage, vengeance, sorrow, worry, hurt.
Rubbing at her eyes, Elena closed them a moment, savoring the soothing darkness and quiet of that moment. She was so tired of fighting–– fighting to find Shuriki, fighting to protect her kingdom, fighting to make her family and friends understand. She needed to find closure—she needed to deliver justice to her parent's murderer.
Though she was exhausted, she thought of the bits of happiness and laughter she'd been blessed with in the midst of these difficult days––in stolen moments with her friends, one in particular.
Swiping a brush from the vanity, Elena removed the hair clip, letting down her hair as she began to idly run the brush through it. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she reflected on how Mateo had taken it as his personal responsibility to make sure she was doing well, always ready with a smile—pained though his smiles were these days—or a listening ear or even a shoulder to cry on. He was one hundred percent there for her in her darkest hour, understanding her needs when no one else could and had stayed by her side through it all—mostly.
The smile slipped, the corners of her mouth turning downward in a small frown as she thought of the conversation they'd had not even an hour ago.
They had returned from their search of Tepet Mul earlier that afternoon with plans to head to Vallestrella at daybreak. Mateo had been behaving so strangely––running off alone, obsessing over the Scepter of Night and putting them all in danger. His actions led Shurik's men right to the scepter piece and though they'd stopped them from taking it, Fiero had heard the next riddle and Shuriki had gotten away.
She had never been so disappointed in her royal wizard. It was such a strange feeling considering how close they'd become since her release from the amulet. Though, after talking with him, she understood now that his actions stemmed from his belief—misguided though it was—that he'd failed her by allowing Carla to fool him so completely.
She paused as her fist clenched around the handle of the brush. She understood that sentiment—all too well.
He desperately wanted to prove that he could be just as great as his grandfather, and he felt responsible for making sure Shuriki was never able to hurt her or the kingdom ever again.
Smirking ruefully, Elena shook her head as she realized they were quite a pair. They both had become a bit desperate and reckless after Shuriki's return. It was a good thing they were already committed to watching each other's backs—they needed each other.
As she continued the arduous task of brushing her hair, something in the mirror caught her eye. Elena paused, leaning in to peer more closely at a marking on her left shoulder–– not a marking, it looked like––
"A tattoo!?" Elena cried out, eyes popping as she examined the intricate swirls and whorls now covering her shoulder and upper arm.
How in the world had she gotten a tattoo without even knowing it? Tattoos weren't common in Avalor, some of the mountain villagers near the ancient Maruvian cities had tattoos in remembrance of their Maruvian ancestors, but it was rare in the city and almost unheard of among the nobility.
The tattoo was perfectly toned to her copper skin, just a few shades darker. Subtle, but still noticeable if her shoulder was bare, though it barely peeked above the off-the-shoulder ruffle of her usual day dress. A network of vines entwined around her shoulder and arm in a floral pattern. Though she was shocked and a little frightened of the mysterious appearance of the markings, Elena couldn't help but appreciate the exquisite detail in the vines, flowers and––was that some sort of script?
"What in the––" she murmured, eyes narrowing as she shrugged her shoulder forward. She cocked her head to try and see the design, prodding the mark with her fingers to make sure the mirror wasn't playing tricks with her eyes.
Nope. Not a trick.
Squinting back at the reflection, she examined the strange script woven among the vines and leaves on her arm.
"Is that–– that's Maruvian!" she gasped in recognition.
If the script on her arm was Maruvian then that meant there was some sort of magic at work and if it was Maruvian magic, then there was only one person who could help her figure out what was going on. The one person who had been helping her through the strange world of Maruvian magic for over a year now.
"I have to go see Mateo!"
She turned and dashed to the door, stopping with her hand on the doorknob, just noticing that she was still wearing nothing but her white shift. She laughed sheepishly and threw on her ruby red bath robe, her feet carrying her out the door before she'd finished tying the belt around her waist.
What kind of spell would do this to her? What did it mean? Would it ever come off? Elena was equal parts intrigued by this strange magic and afraid of what it meant. She couldn't imagine that anything so beautiful would have dark intentions––would it?
These thoughts and more flurried circles in her mind as she rushed through the halls, attempting to act natural as she greeted the servants and guards she passed. It took all of her self control to not to bolt down the hallway, but she had to figure out what was going on before anyone else found out about the strange new mark on her body and started asking questions she couldn't answer.
By the time she burst through the doors of the library, her heart was racing in anticipation of finding an answer to this mystery.
Whatever this strange mark was, it couldn't be too bad–– it couldn't be worse than a prophecy of impending darkness and it couldn't be worse than anything Shuriki was cooking up. Surely Mateo would know what it was–– or at least know where to look for the answer.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Elena called out, "Mateo?" as she sprinted across the room and through the workshop door. "Mateo!"
The royal wizard was perched on a stool at his work table, hunched over a book. Mountains of open books littered the surface of the table around him, though that didn't phase Elena in the slightest as he'd been on the hunt for information about the Scepter of Night since the day before when they'd discovered its existence. He startled, springing to his feet at the urgency in her tone and hurried to meet her halfway across the room.
Elena paused as she got a good look at Mateo. He'd changed his clothes but looked distinctly disheveled—his shirt was untucked, and he'd forgone his signature vest and necktie. She'd never seen him in such a state. And his face. It was white as a sheet and strained—much more so than he'd been just an hour before.
"Mateo? Are you ok?"
Mateo fidgeted, a hand shooting to his shoulder, rubbing it self consciously as his eyes darted to the ground. "Er— Y— yes. I'm fine." He looked up, his gaze shifting to concern as he noted the panic in her eyes. "Are you ok? What happened?" Mateo took a step towards her, reaching a hand out in comfort, but kept his distance, looking conflicted.
Swallowing hard, Elena pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling a little shy. "S—something really strange is going on. I was getting ready for bed and found this mark on my arm."
The color in Mateo's face drained further and he swallowed. "A m—mark?"
"Yeah! It's like a tattoo and it looks like it has Maruvian writing and—"
Her voice trailed off as she noticed that Mateo looked like he was about to pass out, his eyes wide as he tugged at the collar of his shirt.
"Mateo?" she asked quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Mateo? Are you ok? What's wrong?"
Mateo's eyes flicked to hers, locking onto her amber gaze. His gaze softened and he calmed at her touch. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose.
"I think I know what the mark is," he said quietly, "May I see it?"
Elena nodded and pulled back the neckline of her robe. Mateo blushed, swallowing hard as she revealed her bare shoulder and the intricate tattoo, subtle against her copper toned skin. As he examined the markings—goosebumps flashing across her skin where his fingers brushed lightly—Mateo's breath caught in his throat and he thought the temperature must have increased by a few degrees.
Confused, Elena watched the wide array of emotions playing across his face—surprise, hope, joy, dejection, dread.
"What is it?"
"I–It's a Maruvian soul mark."
Eyebrows furrowed, Elena stared at him, perplexed. "A what?"
Mateo turned and returned to the cluttered work table, gesturing for her to follow. Picking up the nearest book, he showed it to Elena and pointed out a paragraph that was written in Maruvian. An illustration in one corner depicted two people holding hands, their skin covered in markings, magic swirling around the length if their arms.
"A Maruvian soul mark. It was rare, even back in Ancient Maru, but legend says that the markings would appear on the arms of two individuals who had developed a bond so strong that it could never be broken. A bond that sets them apart and makes them a strong match, a perfect match. It signified the truest of true love—love that transcends simple romance. Some called it the mark of the soulmate, but soulmate mythos traditionally foretells the match. The Maruvian soul mark magic indicates two people who already have the bond."
Elena was intrigued, to say the least.
"Hmmm…What exactly does the writing on my arm say?"
Hazel eyes flicked from the markings on her shoulder to her eyes. "Most of it tells the story of the bond, how it began and each significant moment that strengthened it up until now." He pointed to the thin strands of Maruvian script snaking around her arm.
Heart pounding, Elena's mind raced with the implications—if this legend were true, then that meant—there was someone else who had the same markings? Someone else who was her—soulmate? But who could she possibly have that kind of bond with?
That person would have to be someone she knew better than anyone and who knew her on a deeper level. Someone who supported her, no matter what—and who she supported equally. Someone who stood by her side—as she stood by theirs.
As she processed these facts, her mind began forming a vague idea of who might fit those qualifications. Could it be?
Pursing her lips thoughtfully, Elena asked, "So—you said that most of the writing told the story. What does the rest of it say?"
Running a hand through his hair, Mateo hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip before he spoke quietly, without looking at her, "This larger script here—" he pointed to a bit of the Maruvian text at the top of her arm that was larger than the rest, "it states the name of the person you share this bond with."
Elena gasped, a thrill shooting through her. The name of her supposed perfect match was written on her arm, for anyone to see—anyone who could read Maruvian anyways, which was admittedly few.
She couldn't decide how she felt about this. She certainly wasn't looking for love—not the romantic kind anyways. Of course she loved her friends and family, but a romantic entanglement was something she had no time for. She was far too busy learning how to rule a kingdom and defending that kingdom from evil at every turn. And, truthfully, she wasn't sure that she would even be permitted the luxury of choosing her own match when the time came—though a huge tattoo on her arm might scare any future political match away. She grinned inwardly as she thought that possibility alone made for a serious positive result of this strange magic.
But—she couldn't help wondering who exactly this mark thought she was so deeply connected to. If this was someone she already shared such an intense, unbreakable bond with then it had to be—
"What does it say?" she said quietly, her muscles tensing in anticipation, wondering if her hunch was correct.
A pause. Fear flickered in Mateo's eyes as he stared wordlessly at the mark.
"What does it say?" she said a bit more loudly, emphasizing each word.
Eyes snapping to hers, Mateo swallowed hard, wringing his hands. "I–it says—" her heart clenched at the worry and dejection she saw on his face. Why would he be so nervous? All he had to do was read a name. Unless she was right and then—
"Mateo Nicolàs de Alva Rosal," he whispered hoarsely. He hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Elena," he said in a small voice.
Elena just stared. Though her hunch had proven correct, her eyes were wide with shock.
Mateo? Her—soulmate?
Butterflies erupted in her stomach, warmth spreading through her as she processed this incredible revelation.
Mateo—her best friend who had been the key to freeing her from 41 years of torment? Her best friend who had stood by her side at every turn? Her best friend who understood her on a level that nobody else could?
Mateo—her best friend who she felt compelled to stand by, encourage and build up at every opportunity? Her best friend who she immediately sought out anytime she was bored, happy, sad, or troubled? Her best friend who she shared a connection with on so many levels she'd lost count?
Of course he was her soulmate. How could she have been so blind?
But—Elena's eyebrows crinkled in confusion, peering closely at her best friend who was still wringing his hands and refusing to look at her—why was he sorry? Did he disagree with the magic? Did he think there was some mistake? That they didn't actually have that strong of a bond?
Why wouldn't he even look at her?
"Mateo?" she said softly, "Hey––" she reached out to cup his cheek, "Please, look at me."
He hesitated, but did as she asked. Though his head still hung sadly, he looked up from beneath his dark eyelashes, his large hazel eyes wide and sad, though she thought she caught a glimmer of hope flickering deep in his eyes.
Elena's heart clenched. She couldn't bear to see him in such a state. It reminded her forcefully of the look he'd given her just a few hours before when she'd called him out on his irrational behavior surrounding the scepter of night. She knew he was being hard on himself then––berating himself internally for messing up so badly. But what could he possibly have to berate himself about now?
"What's going on, Mateo? There's something you're not telling me."
His hand shot to the back of his neck and he looked uncomfortably at the floor. "I––I'm sorry, Elena," he croaked, his voice thick with emotion, "You must be so upset with me. I mean you have so much going on with Shuriki and the council and everything and now this! I promised to be there for you no matter what, to watch your back and help you. But I'm just causing problem after problem. First Shuriki comes back to power—because of me! Fiero is revived—because of me! Shuriki gets away—because of me! And now my name is permanently etched on your arm because some ancient magic was triggered for who knows what reason saying that you––you! The future queen of Avalor has someone like me for a soul mate…nobody special. And you could do so much better than me. I––I'm sorry," he finished in a small voice, a single tear trickling down his cheek.
Elena just stared, her mouth slightly ajar. He thought he wasn't worthy to be her soulmate? Mateo. The kindest, most selfless, courageous—the best out of all of them––not worthy? It was ridiculous, really.
"Mateo de Alva," she said sternly, startling him as she jabbed him in the chest with a finger, "Now you listen to me. You are not nor have you ever been in any way a burden to me or to anyone else. And aside from one afternoon of irrational behavior––which you have apologized for, and as far as I'm concerned is in the past––"
She began pacing in agitation, her voice rising in volume and pitch, gesturing wildly as she went on, "You've done absolutely nothing wrong. What makes you think that I'm any better than you? Just because I'm a princess? What does that have to do with what's in our hearts? Haven't I told you it's what's inside that counts? I'm just a girl who tries to do what's right, and you're just a boy who does the same––way better than me most of the time. How many times do I have to tell you that you are good and precious and worthy? You do not see yourself clearly! Because if you did, then maybe, just maybe, you'd see what I see!"
Mateo watched her pace, eyes wide at the passion with which she spoke. She had always been his fiercest defender and greatest cheerleader. But there was something different about her words this time. The conviction was so strong––so believable. He watched her intently as she moved back and forth across the room.
"And what is it, exactly, that you see?" he said quietly.
She paused and whirled to face him. "What?"
"I said," he repeated a bit louder, taking a half step towards her, "What exactly is it that you see?"
Her eye met his, their gazes locking and, taking a step nearer, she said, "I see a boy who is so passionate about his dream he was willing to defy a tyrant to see it come true. I see a boy with a courageous heart who was willing to risk everything to see his kingdom freed and a princess he barely knew restored to her throne."
Mateo's heart thundered in response to the sincerity and passion with which she spoke. A spark of hope and something else he couldn't quite define kindled in his heart as his listened.
Another step closer. "I see a boy who has been loyal, faithful and true––my faithful friend and steadfast partner in so many things––"
Mateo could scarcely believe his ears as she spoke. She truly believed these things about him?
They drifted closer together, as if in a trance, "I see a boy who I can trust to accept me as I am. Who stands with me when I'm difficult. Who always has my back and has been there for me, no matter what. I see a boy I've come to need for so many reasons––"
Heart racing, blood rushing in his ears, Mateo felt the world shift but she was in perfect focus. As she continued, he searched her face, taking in the conviction burning in her eyes, his gaze lingering on the fascinating way her lips moved as she spoke.
"And you, querido, are everything––"
She was so close now, he could feel her breath on his cheeks. Something ignited in his core at those last words, the passion with which she spoke, the way she called him querido, and the way she was looking at him––
Without a further thought, Mateo lunged forward, cupping her cheeks between his hands, silencing her as his mouth covered into hers in a heated kiss. Elena gasped, too stunned to move.
And as quickly as it had started, Mateo pulled back, wild eyed and panicked as he looked at his best friend who stared back at him, wide eyed with shock.
Before Mateo could even utter the apology bubbling to his lips, Elena's expression shifted, her eyes smoldering, capturing him in her gaze. The tension buzzed like electricity between them as they stared at one another before something clicked and they simultaneously closed the distance between them, their lips crashing together.
This time Elena didn't hesitate a single second, her fingers tangling in his chocolate curls as she returned the kiss, her lips parting for him and Mateo could taste the passion and desire on her tongue, his confidence boosted as his hands feverishly explored the softness of her arms, her back, her hair––
Heat raced through his core as he kissed her desperately, hardly daring to believe that he wasn't dreaming.
But she was real and warm and soft, her body pressed up against his. Her lips moving urgently in perfect sync with his own. His hands slid down to the curve of her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer.
After several moments––or perhaps hours––possibly days––time had ceased to exist––the urgency gradually slowed into a soft, sweet, tentativeness. Kissing her was like magic––wondrous and full of light. It felt so right, like he'd found some part of him that he hadn't even known was missing.
They broke apart, maintaining both physical and eye contact as they watched one another. Mateo grinned sheepishly and said, "I—I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry––"
Elena silenced him with a finger over his lips, smiling softly as she said, "I'm not."
And as if to prove her point, she leaned in and pressed another kiss to his lips.
"So…" Elena started, her eyes twinkling, "I showed you mine. Now I want to see yours."
"Mine?" Mateo asked, slightly dazed from the kiss, "Oh! My mark! Right…Sorry, that kissing thing is going to take a little getting used to. " He blushed furiously, saying, "Its not as easy to get to mine as yours. I'll have to––er––unbutton my shirt."
Grinning, Elena ruffled his hair affectionately. "You are so silly, it's not that big a deal. We've been to the beach together, you know. I've seen you with your shirt off."
Blushing more deeply, he unbuttoned his shirt and slid one arm out, revealing a nearly identical tattoo to the one on Elena's shoulder.
Elena looked closely at the mark, eyes alight with wonder. Mateo shivered as she ran gentle fingertips over the intricate vine and script pattern upon his warm, bronze toned skin.
"Wow," she breathed, "It's exactly like mine, except––" she drew a little circle with her finger over the larger script at the top, "—that part is a bit different."
"Well, it should be. That's the part that announces to the world that Crown Princess Elena Castillo Flores of Avalor is my soul partner."
"Soul partner?" she whispered, glancing up at him, "I––I think I like the sound of that."
Mateo smiled, "I think I do too…"
"But wait, does it really say all of that? 'Crown Princess Elena of Avalor'?"
"Yes, word for word."
"But I won't be a princess anymore when I become queen."
"True, but if I understand this magic correctly, these marks will continue to change throughout our lives as our bond grows," he gestured to the picture in the book on the table where the two little people had marks covering their entire arm. "The story of us will continue to grow throughout our lives. Eventually we'll have marks all the way to the palms of our hands."
Elena raised her hand in front of her face, squinting as if to imagine what it would look like covered in Maruvian tattoos. She giggled, "Oh, this will be so scandalous. A princess––or I'll probably be queen by then, I suppose––with an entire arm covered in Maruvian tattoos."
"Not only that," Mateo chuckled, "but your royal wizard will have an identical matching tattoo. Whatever will the court gossips make of that?"
Laughing, Elena said, "Forget the gossips. What will Esteban say?"
They laughed together at the mental image of Esteban and the court making a scandal of the magical markings on their sovereign's arm, until Mateo sobered, saying, "I would understand if you want to cover it though. I know that as a royal there's propriety––"
Elena fixed him with a glare, "I will do no such thing. I am not ashamed of this," her gaze softened and she reached out to caress his cheek, "and I am certainly not ashamed of you, querido."
Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch, murmuring, "Thanks, Elena."
"Of course,"she said softly, brushing her thumb along his cheek bone, appreciating the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.
"Sooo…" Mateo said, uncertainty flickering in his eye, "What exactly does this mean for us?"
Straightening, she took his hands in her own and looked him in the eye. "Well, honestly? I'm not sure. This is all so new. I don't think either of us was really looking for love–– not like that anyways."
Mateo shook his head earnestly in agreement, squeezing her hands. "No, until I discovered the mark a few hours ago, it had never even crossed my mind that things could be––er––more? Different? You're my best friend, Elena, already the most important person in my life."
Her heart skipped at his words. Hearing that she was so important to him made her inexplicably happy. They were best friends with a connection so deep, a bond so strong, it triggered ancient magic and couldn't be broken.
"But," she continued, cradling his face in her hands and smiling softly, "one thing I do know, I'd like to find out what it could mean––what possibilities are out there—for us." She kissed him gently.
He slid his arms around her waist, leaning into the kiss, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. They still had Shuriki to catch and the Scepter of Night to find, but in the midst of all of the uncertainty, having this new understanding of the depth and certainty of their love and devotion to one another was a comfort and a source of strength.
Touching his forehead to hers, he murmured, "I think I'd like that too."