Day Seven - Red String of Fate
Among his studies of human culture as he grew, Augustus "Gus" Porter would often search for parallel beliefs and superstitions between the demon and human realms. One was the idea of the benevolent "Mother Earth" that strongly mirrored the respect in the Titan that made up the Boiling Isles. Another was moonlight conjurings having an analog in slumber party games such as summoning "Bloody Mary."
A third was the belief in the red thread of fate, one that was nearly identical between the Isles and the Far East of the human realm.
Between both realms, the idea was that an invisible, metaphysical red thread, string, or cord was tied at both ends around the fingers, wrists, or ankles of two separate people of the same age. This cord and its link represented the will of destiny that these souls may be bonded in their lives by love, whether friendly or romantic.
Humans had named the idea of "soulmates" that later became popular in the Isles.
There was a children's game that sprung up around this idea in the Boiling Isles. The game was to take several red threads or strings, tie small loops around both ends of each, and tangle them up — without knotting them — so that no one could see which end matched with which. Children would then take turns selecting a small endloop and fitting it over their pinkie finger. When every loop had been selected, everyone would tug the strings apart together, and the game so said that fate would guide the strings to align with your true soulmate.
"Hey, Willow!" Skara called sweetly across the field of Hexside, a dozen boys and girls around her including Boscha and … Amity. They had all just gotten old enough to choose their coven tracks, and everyone was glad to begin studying their chosen specialty. Well, everyone except Willow Park, who seemed miserable. The bespectacled girl looked up from where she had been trudging home with fear in her eyes.
"Yes?" she asked timidly.
"Come join us," Boscha called, or perhaps commanded. "We need one more person for witch weaving!"
Willow swallowed thickly, her instincts screaming at her to flee. Why would Boscha want her to join them? It had to be a trick, right? Then Willow glanced at Amity, whose gaze was … less frosty than usual, more blank than anything else. Could …? Could Amity have spoken up for her? Convinced the others to give her a chance?
She hoped so. She hoped with all her little heart. And that hope made her smile wanly and join them. There was one loop left and Willow fitted it over her pinkie just like everyone else.
"Okay," Boscha said, "and pull!"
Everyone did, and the tangled strings came apart. Everyone was matched up with another player … all except Willow, whose string was cut halfway through, hanging limply and alone.
"Ha!" Boscha cackled. "Makes sense. Who would want half-a-witch Willow as their partner, huh?"
Tears sprang to Willow's eyes, burning and shameful. She looked around the kids who were laughing at her with Boscha or staring with pity in their eyes, like Skara was. Oh, and Amity, who looked at her with nothing in her eyes. No malicious humor, no pity … no nothing.
Willow clutched the thread to her heart before racing away, tears falling in her wake. She didn't know where she was running, only that it was away. The shame and self-hatred welling up needed an outlet, and she couldn't lose control of her magic at the school. Soon enough, she fell to her knees in the woods and wept, harshly and bitterly. She clutched at her heart as whispers in her ears agreed with the kids at school.
Half-a-witch Willow. Too weak for love. No destined mate.
The thread from the game had worked its way off of her finger and she looked down at it in her palms, tears falling around it. Then a gust of wind blew through the forest and snatched the thread away.
"No!" Willow shouted, standing and racing after it. It was like the Titan was confirming her fears and ripping away the very symbol of any destined love she may have. "Please! Don't go!"
She ran through the underbrush in the direction of the wind, heart pounding and gasping for breath as she tore through the branches. So blinded by her despair, she didn't notice someone in front of her until she crashed into them and sent them both tumbling to the forest floor.
"Ouch!" yelped a boy's voice from under Willow. She shook her head and fixed her glasses to find herself laying on top of a boy with ash-blond hair, strange magenta eyes staring up at her, dressed in drab, dark grey clothes. "Uh, hi?"
"I'm so sorry!" Willow said, straightening up and pulling the boy to his feet. "I was chasing something and I just-" Her spirit crumbled and she held her face in her hands again as she wept anew.
"Uh … there there?" the boy said awkwardly, lightly patting her back. "Just, uh, let it out …?"
Willow sniffled and couldn't help but giggle. "T-Thanks," she hiccuped. She lifted her glasses and rubbed the tears from her eyes. "I'm so sorry. It's just-" She hugged her belly as hopelessness began to settle once more. "It's been a really hard day.
"I've had those before," the boy said timidly, and Willow looked up at him again. He blinked at her gaze and tried to smile, showing off a gap between his front teeth. She gave a watery smile back. Oh, you said you were looking for something?" the boy prompted.
"Just a piece of red string," Willow said. "It's dumb."
"With a loop in it?" the boy asked, taking something from his pocket and showing it to her. The string!
"That's it!" Willow shouted with joy and took it from him to hold it close to her heart. "It's silly, but- There's a game where people will loop these around their fingers and pull, and the threads unravel to show who you're paired with. They say it means you're meant to be together. But me?" She looked down sadly at the half-string with a single loop. "I didn't get a partner."
The boy's gloved hand appeared in her line of sight and he paused before taking the string. He tied a loop on the other end before taking a small knife and cutting the thread neatly in half, tying knots on the severed ends so they wouldn't unravel.
"Well, I won't get a destined partner, either," the boy said, clearly trying to act like he wasn't hurt by it. "Not a half-a-witch like me." Willow's eyes widened at the familiar title, then she blinked as he held out one of the threads to her. "But maybe this way, whatever really happens, we can be alone … together?"
Willow took the loop and cradled it in her hands. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes wet with tears of joy, now.
"Boy! Where are you?!"
"Oh, that's for me," the boy said. "Uh … good luck!" he said, as he ran into the forest. "Byyyeeee!"
Willow blinked in the direction he had fled before looking down at the looped thread in her hand. She smiled and held it close as she got her bearings and walked toward Bonesborough and her house.
And she resolved to keep this thread for the rest of her life as a reminder that there were some good people in the world.
"This will be your room, Hunter," uncle Belos said, gesturing at the nearly empty space. "You've done well in your training; shown yourself to be a real prodigy." He smiled and ruffled the boy's hair. "And that means you need your own space. Decorate it however you wish."
"Thank you, Uncle!" Hunter shouted, hugging the old man and burying his face in the white robes he always wore. He didn't see Belos's face twist with discomfort as he sighed and patted the boy's head. After a few moments he cleared his throat and stepped away from the latest grimwalker. "Good night, Hunter. Enjoy the room. And be ready for more training in the morning."
"Yes, Uncle!" Hunter said obediently as the emperor departed, closing the door behind him.
Hunter looked around the room and its bed, desk, bookshelves, and other places before fishing the loop of red thread he'd gotten today. It had come with the wind, and he'd snatched it out of the air on sheer reflex. Then that girl with glasses and messy, dark hair had come along and slammed into him. He'd been mad at first, but one look at that sad, adorable face and his anger had evaporated into concern.
"Alone together," he'd said.
If only.
He ran his thumb along the thread and looped it around his thumb before looking around for a place to put it. He found a spare peg for his bedframe and settled the knotted loop over it before winding it around. He opened his bedside drawer and nestled it safely in the back.
"Never forget," Hunter told himself.
It took a while for Hunter to work up the nerve to return to the castle for his things. Eda had been the most vocal about it, claiming that the things in his room were his and leaving them there didn't help anyone. Luz and Willow had been more gentle about it and asked him if there was really nothing he would want in his old room.
So Hunter found himself returning, sorting through his things for anything sentimental or worth salvaging. Some were practical, like his medical kit and books on wild magic. His certificate of completion of scout training he saved to burn alongside Steve and Severine's. He had precious little sentimental things, but one thing came immediately to mind. He fished it out of the special place he'd given it in his bedside drawer, looking at it with misty eyes as he recalled all of the hard nights when clutching this wooden peg with a red cord was what gave him the strength to carry on.
"What's that?"
Hunter jumped, startled out of his thoughts by Willow's sweet voice. Even after a year of dating, she still surprised him.
"Oh! Um," he looked down at the trinket and scoffed. "It's silly," he replied.
"Oh, well now I have to know," Willow teased and sat next to him on his old bed.
Hunter looked at her, into those beautiful green eyes and found himself reminiscing. He told her the story of a day so long ago near the beginning of his training for the emperor's Coven, when a red thread had blown to him in the wind and he grabbed it from the air. Of the girl who had been crying before he offered her half and took the other, assuring her that they would be alone together. Of the fact that he never saw her again and couldn't really even remember details about what she looked like besides glasses, messy dark hair, and overall adorableness.
"Sometimes I wish I could meet her," Hunter said, taking Willow's hand in her own. "Just, y'know, to know she's alright." He looked at Willow, half-expecting to see a spark of jealousy or something that many guys had warned him about with girls … and he was shocked to see tears gathering in her eyes.
"Hunter, come with me," she said distantly, Clover growing into her staff.
"What?" Hunter asked.
"Please," Willow whispered, emotion thick in the word. He nodded and took her hand to be swept onto the staff for them to rocket out the window and toward Bonesborough. Hunter was confused as they flew to her house and through the balcony to her room. Hunter grunted as Clover shrank back to her plaisman form and willow began digging around in a drawer of her own.
"Uh, Willow?" Hunter asked. "Is everything o … Kay?"
Hunter's question had almost died in his throat when Willow found a piece of folded green cardstock and opened it … to reveal a piece of red thread, knotted on one end and a loop tied in the other, taped to the card.
"Wha-?" Hunter felt the world tilt as he looked from the preserved piece of thread … to the girl who bore it. The memory of that girl, dulled by time, returned full-force and his mind started to draw comparisons that were blindingly obvious in hindsight. The glasses, the rounded features, the green eyes, the sheer cuteness … How could he have not known?!
He could also feel Willow looking at him as she did the same, no doubt with his hair, tooth gap, and air of awkwardness that she somehow found endearing.
"It's you," he whispered in awe.
"Mm-hmm," Willow mumbled, smiling as she brushed a strand of hair from her face. "We … We found each other again."
"And …" Hunter started, coughing into his fist before trying again. "H-How are you? Did- Did everything turn out alright?"
Willow giggled and leaned in close, placing a faint kiss on his lips. "I think it turned out pretty well." She placed the card on her bedside table, took the peg in his hand to place it beside the card, and cupped his cheeks, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. He returned it with vigor, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing back, pouring every musing and hope about that mystery girl into the kiss as he felt her doing the same over the strange boy.
And invisible to all, a vibrant red thread was tied around Willow's pinkie finger, looping around them both until the other end rose up and was tied around Hunter's little finger, too.
I was struggling with this prompt before the early idea struck me, and churned it out in less than an hour as inspiration struck. I really like how it turned out and hope you do to!
And so goes the last of Huntlow Week, 2022. I hope you've enjoyed this collection, and look forward to next year's.
Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! And a marvelous year to come!