The day after Anders' soul mark completed was bittersweet. When he opened his eyes on the beach his body ached as strongly as his heart. He rolled on his back and the sand scraped the sunburn that fully encompassed his exposed pale skin. Low tide left him beached a considerable distance away from the water. He had no tears left to spare as he pulled himself to a sitting position and gingerly touched his right hand to the forearm under his crimson marked wrist.

The moment the sharp pain shot through his body, the mark on his wrist pulsed with a blue glow and the hand touching his skin emanated a similar light. Angry, red burns cleared to reveal the pale, freckled flesh underneath. The blue glow faded when the pain disappeared completely.

Anders' heart raced. Very few mer were blessed with any kind of magical gift and almost all of them manifested by their tenth year. His mind clouded once more with confusion, and with one last longing look along the shore, he crawled back to the ocean.

Irving cleared the grotto to give Anders and his mother a private audience with the Elder and Wynne. Anders' eyes pleaded with Irving to excuse his mother. She had caught him swimming back to the pod and fussed over him all the way to the grotto for not coming home the night before. Irving only gave a small imperceptible shake of his head and reached out for Anders' arm.

"What happened, Anders?"

Anders' tried to stay calm but his fins twitched under the scrutiny from the elders and his mother.

"I.. I fell asleep on the beach, and when I woke up I was burned. When I touched my skin, it, the mark… it glowed. It made my hands glow and the burn went away."

Wynne reached forward and placed her hand on his forehead. He could feel the the pulse of her magic. He realized she was looking for any kind of sun damage, they doubted him. He shoved her hand away.

"I am telling you what happened. I'm fine . I came here to find out why. "

He watched, frustrated, as Irving and Wynne nodded to each other. When Wynne pulled at his mother's arm to lead her away both relief and fear battled for dominance in his mind.

Irving pulled Anders' hands and attention back. "I have an idea, but I'd like to test something first. Can you pull the magic on your own?"

Anders stared hard at where his hands lay flat over Irving's. He wasn't sure where to pull the magic from. The mark simply pulled on its own and stopped when it was no longer needed. He thought about the glow, the way it made him feel.

Nothing.

The pressure behind his eyes returned. Maybe it was the combination of the sun and his own distress that caused a hallucination on the beach.

"I can't."

Irving's hands gripped his own. "It's alright. I have one more thing to try."

The elder retrieved a knife from a gathering pack secured around his waist. Anders watched as he pulled the knife's blade along his palm, superficially splitting the skin.

"Try again."

Anders reached out to place a hand over the open palm. The mark at his wrist flickered blue once more. Relief flooded his system until he realized the cut on Irving's hand didn't close. Another emotion crept into his mind, another voice that seemed personally offended by the self-inflicted wound. He found himself convinced that he wouldn't heal this cut, that Irving deserved the pain.

"I.. I can't. The wound isn't… it's not… necessary." He struggled giving a voice to the intrusive thoughts.

He watched as Irving's face moved briefly through surprise and into a mask of understanding.

"Anders, remember what we spoke about yesterday?" Irving carefully asked.

"My mark, that it could be… no. " Anders clutched his arms to his chest and propelled out of Irving's reach.

Irving didn't even attempt to reach for him again. "I'm sorry, Anders."

Every week Anders waited on the shore for hours until the mark on his wrist pulsed its blue light.

Every week he pushed his family and friends a little further away.

Every week it hurt less.

This went on for several months, until the day came in the kelp gardens when he felt the longing for Leto in his heart and the mark lit up. When he stopped to ponder what it meant, a firm hand caught his own.

Karl.

Anders had been so lost in his own despair, he had unknowingly pushed away his closest friend. He found himself humbled that Karl still found it within his heart to be there for him. He used Karl's hand as an anchor to pull himself around and fully embrace his friend, pressing their foreheads together, he chuckled softly.

"I'm a mess, Karl." Anders whispered. "I'm so sorry I pushed you away."

Karl guided Anders head so that it rested on his shoulder and gently ran his fingers through Anders' long golden hair.

"I know what it's like to feel alone, Anders, and I'll do anything to keep you from feeling that too."

Anders relaxed into Karl's embrace, his mark crimson once more.

"You know, you could leave, travel…"

The hand that rested on his chest moved to his wrist in the dark.

"I see the way you look to the open sea, Anders. There's nothing keeping you here."

Anders pushed the thought from his mind. He and Karl fell into the routines followed by other couples in the pod. They both spent their days in the grotto with the elders, helping them teach. In the evenings they retired to the cave Karl once shared with Niall.

Each year passed punctuated by new marks, new unions. Anders tried his best to celebrate these occasions, but eventually the pity in their faces became too much. He didn't know how Karl could stand it. He grew frustrated being thought of as a couple of broken men pushed together from loneliness.

It didn't help that it started that way, but it became so much more.

Today was different. Two students in Wynne's class squealed with delight over what he knew was a match. A dark haired mer named Jowan clasped hands with a blonde mer, Neria. The excitement took over the room, a flurry of arms and tails. What caught Anders' eyes were the marks themselves.

They were green.

As if the Maker was out to make it a fair game, every few years the markings changed colors. It was just another fail-safe built in so that mer didn't wait for fifteen or so odd years before a match came into the world.

Anders fled the grotto, straight into the cave where Karl waited for him to return from teaching. He pulled Karl close and kissed him, trailed more kisses down his neck, and pulled his wrist to his lips to place one last tender kiss to the mark that had turned black when Niall turned to seafoam.

"There's nothing keeping us here anymore."

He waited patiently for the understanding to fill Karl's eyes.

They spent the next hour collecting tools, supplies, and keepsakes. Every item placed in their gathering pouches fueled the growing smiles on their faces. Each time they crossed paths close enough to touch, they wrapped their tails and kissed.

While everyone in the pod celebrated the newest union, Anders and Karl chased their future to the east.