Prologue
In crowded cities, on winding paths. Amongst tall trees and secluded houses, in sewers and floating towns, it found him.
"Mir, what do you think it means?" Evan wondered aloud wearily, finger running absentmindedly along a single red string.
Maybe someone's cast a curse on you, Master, Mir worried through their telepathic link.
"Wouldn't surprise me if the Black Wings did something," The dragon master remarked sourly, still feeling the sting of the betrayal by the evil organization, even if it had been years ago. The young man was eighteen, now, and constantly searching for the Heroes of old. Rumors of them caught his attention in every town.
Ereve's ladies tittered about a dashing master thief. Orbis's fairies spoke warmly, respectfully, of a woman with snow-white hair who had helped them out in their time of need. (Evan still regretted how he had been the one to cause that time of need.) Ellinia spoke of a tragic death and a man cloaked in white with eyes of blue and red, and Edelstein's Resistance talked about a willowy woman aiding them.
Yet still, they were elusive to Evan. How was he ever supposed to take his place among them, if he couldn't even catch up to them?
Evan let out a groan of frustration. And then, he thought, tugging irritatedly at the red string wrapped around his finger, there's this stupid thing.
It had appeared a week or so ago, after Evan had taken a tumble and hit his head against a tree. When he woke up, it wasn't just to Mir's concerned eyes; it was to a long red string wrapped around his finger. No matter what he did, nothing worked to get it off. He tried cutting it, and the knife went straight through it, as if it were intangible. Flames from Mir, lightning bolts, ice, anything he and Mir tried, it went through the string. And yet Evan could touch it, feel how real it was. But no one else, besides Mir, was able to see it.
Evan hopped up, back on his feet, as an idea struck him, There's nothing a bit of studying can't fix, "Come on, Mir, let's go see if we can find anything about it in the library."
"An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break," Evan read aloud. He paused, then made a face, "Wait, so does this mean I'm supposed to meet my soulmate through this thing?"
Master, don't you get it? Mir asked excitedly, flapping his wings eagerly. It connects those who are destined to meet, not just lovers! It will lead us to the Heroes!
And in his eagerness, after those words from his dragon, Evan forgot to read the next paragraph before he was dashing out the door of the library, yelling a 'thanks!' to Grendel.
'The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers.'
In crowded cities, on winding paths. Amongst tall trees and secluded houses, in sewers and floating towns, he searched.
Evan followed the string constantly, only stopping to eat and sleep. Day by day, the distance grew shorter. It led him to the world tree, and from there, into the dense forest of Sleepywood. Down through winding, eery caves, until he came upon a little side passage.
Speak the password, read the sign in front of it. Evan blinked and walked forward hesitantly, creeped out by the place. To his surprise, the barrier that was obviously supposed to be only broken by a password was already down. The magic was weak.
And inside, amongst dead-looking puppets, rested a man, curled up in a ball of blue and gold robes. He lifted his head weakly and stared up at Evan with dulled eyes.
This was the man that, years ago, Evan had rescued Camilla from. Francis the Puppeteer.
It occured to Evan, suddenly, that maybe he had been right the first time, because this was certainly no hero.
"You're my soulmate?" He whispered.