01 : The Soulmate Mark—Olvfas

Cakrawala Owen sighed as his eyes opened. He paused, then slowly, his amber iris glanced over to the grand window at the right side of his bed. The morning sunray pushed through the curtain that a butler was opening.

“Young Master, it is time to prepare for the day.” He greeted Cakra as he tied the curtain. But no, he did this without looking at him. He knew his Young Lord would already be up after he did that. It was because Cakra was not the type of person who could peacefully sleep when the sun shone on his eyes. Then, as he thought, the young man on the velveteen bed was already sitting up then he turned around. A small smile bloomed on the soft face.

“Albert, good morning,” the Young Lord greeted his butler who was already bowing respectfully. “You are early as usual.” The wavy haired young man commented with a laugh.

“Good morning, Young Master,” the butler quickly moved—from the window, he suddenly appeared on Cakra's side. Then he held out his hand, wordlessly asking for Cakra’s hand before he could refuse, “It is my honor to serve you, Young Master.”

Cakra chuckled hearing it. That was true. He often refused his butler’s offer of help because he could do it himself. But on the other hand, he also knew that if he was too stubborn, then they could be blamed for it. That was why he followed Albert. He was guided toward the bathroom that was only located at the corner of his room.

“Al,” Cakra called the black-skinned man. The butler turned to him immediately, staring at his master. “As usual, please wait at the door.” He said, scratching his not-itchy cheek.

Albert paused, staring at the man younger than him but also his Young Master. He nodded. “Do you need help to wear—”

“No! No! No need, I can wear clothes on my own!” Cakra quickly cut Albert’s words—he knew the man would still offer to help him. If he was still a boy, he wouldn’t mind. But he was already 19 years old! Goodness, Cakra would die out of embarrassment if someone knew he still needed help wearing clothes! He could do his own private things.

“I see. I understand, Young Master. I have prepared your clothes inside.” Albert said as he opened the door. Cakra smiled for his butler’s understanding.

“Don’t tell father, yes?” was what Cakra said before he entered his bathroom.

Albert only nodded—his face blank—but Cakra knew… he wouldn’t lie.

This morning was supposed to be the same, ordinary days like the previous ones. There was no reason a written schedule should be drastically rewritten. Cakra was the same. He washed his face in the marbled sink as he wordlessly cheered himself up. He needed to do the best today, like he always did.

But honestly, there was something bothering Cakra: the dream.

Bowing down on the sink, Cakra stared into the mirror in front of him. He saw his own reflection—a teenager going to his early adulthood, with black wavy hair and bright eyes. He didn’t have a bulky figure, but he had a good build as a young adult behind his clothes. It was just that… something was amiss—

“Cakra…”

A soft voice entered the Young Lord’s ears. He froze before his eyes widened.

Slowly, he looked up to his reflection. There was someone behind him; it was a man. He was tall and stocky.

Spontaneously, Cakra turned—his defense stance was already up and his breath leaving him in short gasps. But there was no one there. No one! He was alone in his bathroom.

Holding his breath, Cakra glanced to the mirror again. ‘He’ was still there—his face unclear because it was shadowed.

Cakra gulped—glancing over and over towards the mirror reflection and the place where the shadow was supposed to be at.

Biting his lip, Owen hesitated before he finally reached out to the mirror and stroked the man’s reflection. Out of nowhere, Cakra felt his heart tightened.

“You... who are you?” He slowly asked after trying so hard to control himself.

Of course there were no answers. The figure behind him stepped closer to the reflection and Cakra saw ‘that person’ hugged him—strongly—then softly, with a broken voice, Cakra caught the reflection saying, “I’ve decided.”

The person looked miserable, his body trembling, but that was not what made Cakra froze—and also not when the person kissed his crown.

It was because Cakra knew what would happen next.

Then, like he had predicted, a sentence echoed, “I will let you go, Cakra.” And the person faded in thin air, like smoke.

Cakra closed his eyes. He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly; he was trying to control himself as much as he could. It was at least nine years the dream had haunted him. He never remembered the details on the dream—he just knew that someone had let him go.

He didn’t even know what made the dream suddenly occur and honestly, it bothered him.

“If you love me then don’t let me go, stupid!” Cakra grumbled when he had controlled himself.

Deciding to ignore the gaping hole in his heart, Cakra continued on his day. He needed to hurry. After bathing, he needed to go down to the dining room and have breakfast with his family. It was routine that he was raised on. However busy they were, they needed to make time for family. And because he was the only male heir in the family—the one who would one day inherit his father’s position—he needed to give a good example to his sisters.

It was just when his fingers trailed the silk pajamas down his body that Cakra froze and stared. There, underneath his collarbone, there was a bowed, red mark. It was a beautiful mark; a large shield bowed over a swan on a red sea that was looking up at the sky.

For a second, Cakra stared uncomprehendingly with wide eyes.

But then he screamed in panic, “AAAAA!!!” He punched the mirror to pieces with his fist. His pupils dilated, his heart was beating fifty miles per second.

What was this? What was this?!

Cakra rubbed the mark, hoping—needing—for it to disappear.

But there it stayed, underneath his collarbone—glowing as if it was mocking him.

It couldn’t be erased!

With panic mixed with shock gripped his head, Cakra didn’t care about his surroundings. He didn’t know when Albert kicked the locked door to his bathroom. He also didn’t hear when his mom and dad went inside.

Cakra was still gripped with shock and fear with the appearance of the mark on his body. He tried putting on soap, rubbing and scratching on it. But it was no use. It was still there.

The mark was not going away.

Then, like a slap to the face, that person’s voice was echoing again in his head. “Be happy, even if you’re not with me…” That was enough to stun him and he froze. His mind floated somewhere. In his mind’s eye, he saw someone—he was smiling before his body flurried away in pieces and leaving him by himself.

No! No! No—

“Son! Cakra! Please stop, dearest!” The voice of a woman and the strong grip on his hand snapped Cakra to the real world. He turned to his side, where his mother was.

Here, for the first time, Cakra saw all members of his family—even his three sisters. They cheered when they saw clearly the mark underneath his collarbone. Their faces were beaming in happiness and two of his sisters even looked at him in envy.

But their happiness contradicted Cakra’s feelings.

He... wanted to cry.

“No,” Cakra muttered slowly. He looked up to his family pointedly before looking back to his reflection in the mirror. “No! This must be a mistake. It couldn’t be, could it?” He muttered as he rubbed his mark—his face fell.

And it was enough to dim the happiness from his family. The euphoria was broken.

From where he was, he could see his father—the Earl—frowned. His firm face showed dislike over Cakra’s comment, not confusion. He understood one thing: his son didn’t accept fate.

Indeed, Cakra didn’t want this fate!

God, he didn’t! He didn’t want his life rearranged just because of a mere mark!

The mark—under the rule of Emperor Schaefer here—was called Olvfas. It was said that the mark was God’s gift in order to guide his lost sheep in their romance. Olvfas have many shapes and colors and only two people were perfectly matched; they were called soulmates.

It was an obligation to ‘become one’ with one’s soulmates. If they weren’t and they reached age 21 without intercourse, then both of them would die. The same would happen to those who didn’t get a mark when they reached age 21.

Moving forward, the dark haired man with thin moustache patted Cakra’s shoulder and squeezed, telling the younger man that he was serious. Cakra didn’t look up.

His father’s lips opened with a firm voice. “There is no mistake. Everyone would get their mark after their 15th birthday,” he paused there, wordlessly telling Cakra to look up. “I will tell the Emperor about this. You will go to the Mask Ball within the fortnight—you will meet your soulmate there; now that you gained this mark.” He said, stroking Cakra’s Olvfas.

Knowing he had no choice, Cakra just nodded.

He could only hope that…

He whom Cakra wished to meet would have the same mark.

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