A/N: Inspiration for this story came from a tumblr post by discoveriesofbishmont.
"Can you please tell me the story of how you and Lord de Clermont became soulmates?" Matthew asked.
Ysabeau smiled. "I have told you they story only yesterday little one," she said. "Are you so eager to hear it once again?"
He looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "I just wished to know how long it took for Lord de Clermont's soulmark to appear. He must have waited for years and years."
Ah. Now she knew what this was about. "Your soulmark has yet to appear?" she asked, despite knowing the answer.
Matthew nodded miserably. "It has been so long Madam. I am frightened that my mark will never come."
"It will come one day Matthew," she said. "Everyone has a soulmate. And you will find your soulmate in time." Ysabeau had lost count of the number of times she had this conversation with Matthew. He was so worried about his lack of a soulmark. But Ysabeau was certain that Matthew did indeed have a soulmate. The boy had so much love to give.
Matthew nodded. "Thank you Madam," he said. "I just wanted-"
"You wanted the reassurance," Ysabeau guessed. She shook her head, a smile on her face. "This conversation is too heavy for such a fine day. You should go and attend to your duties Matthew."
Matthew smiled at her one last time before running off to complete his duties. Ysabeau watched him leave. She heard footsteps; she knew that Philippe was behind her.
"You love him the way a mother would love a son," he said. "But you must know that his life is fleeting compared to ours Ysabeau."
"I do," she confessed. She traced the letters of Philippe's name on her wrist. The action had always brought her comfort. "But I shall take the time I have with him, no matter how short it will be." She sighed. "I have told him that it took a very long time for your soulmark to appear. "
Philippe frowned. "Yes, but I was never told by a priest that a lack of a mark indicated my lack of ability to love," he growled. "How could anyone even believe in a lie like that is beyond me. That man should be ashamed to make a boy like Matthew believe that he is unworthy of love."
"I wish for his happiness," Ysabeau. "I hope that he finds some in his life."
"And so do I," said Philippe. "At least for your sake."
"Matthew?" asked Ysabeau in surprise. "Why are you here? Why are you not with your wife and child?"
"I needed to speak with you Madam," he said. "I need- I could not confess this to the priest."
Ysabeau pursed her lips together. Something terribly wrong must have happened to Matthew for him to react like this. "Come," she said, leading him to a stone bench a little ways from the path; they would have some privacy there. Once they seated themselves, she said, "What do you wish to tell me."
"Blanca's soulmark appeared on the moment of Lucas' birth. His name is on her wrist. And Lucas has Blanca's name on his heart." He swallowed. "I still have no mark," he whispered, almost unwilling to say it out loud.
"Matthew, It might not mean-" she began, but Matthew shook his head, cutting her off.
"There can be no more children Madam," he said. "Blanca's health would not allow it. I know what this means Madam."
"Matthew, you cannot believe-"
"I am sorry for burdening you with this Madam," he said quickly and leapt to his feet. "I need to go." He turned and fled.
Ysabeau stared after him, her heart breaking for Matthew. She wished that there was something she could do to ease his grief, but he knew that Matthew would not let her.
There was an emptiness in his heart where Blanca and Lucas used to reside. Why were they taken away from him? Why hadn't he succumbed to the sickness instead? Very few people had the strength to live when their soulmate died. He knew the minute Lucas breathed his last he would lose Blanca as well. The knowing did not help with the grief however.
From this spot on the scaffolding of the church tower, he could see the stone underneath which Blanca and Lucas had rested. He thought about what the woman had told him earlier - that he was haunted. That Blanca and Lucas were tied to the village because of him, unable to move on. Were their spirits trapped beneath the stone? And if they were, was there a way for him to release their spirits so that they could move on?
Perhaps, just perhaps, if he fell on the stone, would their spirits be released? And perhaps he might join them where they went as well? Blanca and Lucas deserved their salvation, especially after enduring his presence, a man incapable of love.
Suicide is a mortal sin, a voice whispered in his head. He closed his eyes. It did not matter to him. As long as Blanca and Lucas would be able to move on, to find the peace that was denied to them-
There was a rush of air, and then there was nothing but pain.
Matthew stared into the flames. Lady de Clermont had turned him into a manjasang only a few weeks ago, and he was still getting accustomed to the changes within his body.
He wondered why Madam had chosen to save one as unworthy as him.
Perhaps this was God's punishment. For all the sins that he had committed, Matthew was condemned to this half existence, condemned to be a creature who must kill to survive; a creature who could not live or die or even to find fleeting peace in dreams. All he could do was to remember.
But that was not the worst part of his punishment. The worst part was the illness that ravaged him, the illness that turned him to a monster unable to think or to reason. All he could so was to destroy.
Perhaps that was the reason that he did not have a soulmate. How could one as monsterous as he was even deserve love? Now he was faced with the prospect of an endless existence.
He closed his eyes. If God wanted him to pay this price for his sins, he would gladly do so.
"Maman," said Matthew. "I shall do this."
"No," she said, tears streaming down her face. "I have to. Philippe-"
"No Maman," he said. "This is my duty. I am, after all, the assassin for the family." He wouldn't let his mother strike the death blow. She wouldn't be able to do it. She couldn't hurt her soulmate. Matthew, on the other hand, was a monster. He was already a killer. He had so much blood on his hands. Another death-
No, he knew that this would be very different from all the other people he had killed. He would be killing his father. His mother's soulmate. And with that action, he would lose the last bit of goodwill the de Clermonts still had for him. But no matter what would happen after this, it was nothing less than what a monster like him deserved.
His father was sitting in a chair by the fire, staring out at nothing at all.
"Father," Matthew greeted him, sitting on the floor next to the chair.
There was no reply. There never would be any reply. His father was dead in mind and spirit. Now, his body will join in death as well. Matthew picked his father's wrist and bit down.
Most of the time, when he drank someone's blood, their memories came in a smooth stream, like an unfurling ribbon. But not his father's. Each swallow of blood was like swallowing shards of glass. The memories were so fractured and disjointed that Matthew was unable to make any sense of them.
The only memories that had any clarity to them were those of Maman. They were his father's only thoughts that were still whole and still his.
The end couldn't come soon enough. Once it was over, Matthew gently set his father's hand back on the chair. In the position he was in, his father looked like he could be sleeping.
Matthew closed his eyes. It was time to face the rest of the family.
Matthew had just returned home from one of the trips he took when everything became too much for him to bear.
Maman, as usual, was all smiles as she greeted him. It both warmed his heart and cut his heart to ribbons to know that she still cared for him even after everything he's done in his life.
They were sitting in the parlour, drinking wine and making conversation when he felt a sharp, searing pain on his chest. He collapsed to the floor, groaning with pain.
"Matthew!" Maman yelled, rushing to his side.
As quickly as it had started, the pain vanished.
"What was that?" he managed to gasp out. "There was a sharp, searing pain-"
Maman stared at him, her eyes wide. "That kind of pain means one thing. You soulmark has come."
"What?" he yelped. It couldn't be possible. How?
Matthew unbuttoned his shirt. There on his chest, right over his heart was a symbol. It was a serpent, in the shape of a half circle. The design of the snake was reminiscent of an ouroboros. "Maman, what does this mean?" he asked.
"It means that your soulmate has finally been born," Maman said.
Matthew swallowed. It was just too much for him to process. He actually had a soulmate. He traced the lines of the serpent with a finger. "But what does this mean? A serpent?" The design of the soulmarks was significant. There had to be some meaning to it.
"I don't know," Maman confessed. Perhaps it will be something that you would find out once you meet your soulmate."
Stephen Procter stared in wonder at his daughter all bundled up in Rebecca's arms. Diana's eyes were wide with curiosity, taking in all of the details of the world around her. "I still can't believe that the two of us managed to make a person," he said.
"Neither can I," said Rebecca.
"She already has a soulmark," said Stephen.
Rebecca knew that the creature on her Diana's chest was a firedrake. It was in the shape of a half circle, and it had a crown on its head. "What do you think it means?"
Stephen bit his lip. "The significance of a soulmark can be quite obscure at times. Perhaps we'll find out when Diana meets her soulmate."
The two of them turned their attention back to Diana. They could think about the significance of her soulmark on a later date.