They say that at the beginning humans were neither male, nor female; they were both, they were whole. But fearing their power, the gods divided them in two halves; one male, the other female. Like this they were doomed to search for the soul-mate without the guarantee that their other half would be found. But a life bereft of one's soul-mate was empty, almost useless and there were many who could not reach theirs.
Taking pity of the humans, the higher being residing in heaven allowed them to know one thing about their other halves. The name. Each person would have the name of their destined pair written in the palm of their hand. It would permeate itself into their skin, letting the know the same they searched for. So the gods decreed to soothe the blow delivered when they split the humans in two.
Darcy closed the book with a thud that screamed of finality. The words she had read left ghosts in front of her eyes and a metallic taste in her mouth. She throws the tome against the wall, silently fuming because she's Darcy and at this age having something set in stone is too much to handle. She's never been much of a follower. Her mother doesn't come up and for that she's grateful. Of course then the reason of her mother not coming up flashes in her mind and all that gratefulness dissipates. Her father is sick again and they can't afford to keep him hospitalized so his wife looks after him.
A bit calmer now, Darcy lifts her right hand in the dim light and pulls her fingerless glove off. The black material slides against her skin pleasantly and falls to the floor with a soft whoosh. She peeks at the palm in front of her eyes and there's a frown.
The script is cursive and elegant with loops and well defined edges. Those four letters inscribed inside her hand are simply beautiful. She mouths the name quietly, testing it on her tongue. "Loki." The syllables pour out and it's almost like she's chanting. Of course, her mind can't help a snide remark; because, really, who names their child Loki? It's so strange and uncommon. But then she realises she shouldn't be the one to point her finger; her name isn't exactly common either. Who names their only daughter Darcy? "Mom and her love for Jane Austen. But really now, Darcy?!"
She remembers her mother saying that an uncommon name will make it easier to find your soul-mate. But the she would think so considering she's Allison and her father is Damian. Those are rather widespread names and make finding your other half a bit difficult at least. So Darcy breathes deeply and holds her hand to her heart. "There can't be many Lokis out there." she reasons, because obviously there aren't many myth-obsessed parents around. But there must be some, she rationalizes because her friend Jane has Thor scrawled messily across her palm.