Luin

They used to have seers check the soul bonds of babies, but in the rare cases where a Seelie baby had an Unseelie soul mate, the children could be awfully mistreated. The most common response was to send the child to reform school as soon as it was weaned, where it would be indoctrinated into Seelie culture and would learn to despise the Unseelie.

These children would grow up separated from their families, and most were never able to salvage the lost relationships there. They would be radicals, with all the freedom of thought sucked out of them that the reformists could manage. They would grow up despising themselves and desperate to prove that they could fit into a society that would never fully trust them.

It wasn't a good system, and it all crashed down in the space of a day a few decades before I was born. One of the unfortunate Seelie children was close to graduating and snapped. He hated himself and he hated all the other children in the reform school for the soul bonds that tied them to the Unseelie. In his twisted mind, the right course of action was to take out himself and the rest of the school with explosives. Dozens of children died that day, and the reform schools shut down.

Tuala, our then-queen, had been rallying against reform schools for years, trying to build the support she would need to get her people on board with another method. She swooped in with a new idea: raise the children with their families and with society. Steep them in our ways and in acceptance, and make the idea of being cast out terrifying.

Make them want to stay.

Under her laws, children's soul bonds were no longer tested when they were born; instead, they were tested on the day of their naming ceremony. It was a rite every Seelie child looked forward to for years, a coming-of-age. The day before the ceremony, soul bonds were read. Seelie with Unseelie soul mates – people like me – were given a choice. We could complete our naming ceremony the next day, or we could choose exile. Be a part of society or leave it forever.

I was only thirteen years old.

I think... I think I always knew that my soul mate was Unseelie. Something deep inside sensed that he was far away and always expected this day of decision to come. I couldn't feel the bond yet – we don't until we're further into adolescence, somewhere between fifteen and eighteen. That was part of Queen Tuala's plan, too. Make the child choose a path while his ties to society were strong and his ties to his soul mate were undeveloped. It usually worked, but not on me.

I asked my mother and sister not to come with me for my reading with the seer, and I could see my mother's worry even as she agreed. My sister, Corrin, had rolled her eyes but didn't put up much of a fight. I had been too young to go to her reading three years ago, so maybe she thought it was only fair that I ban her from mine.

I walked into the seer's building feeling strangely calm and detached. She smiled warmly at me and patted on the cushion next to hers. They were on the floor, but so plush you'd never care about that, and they were set in front of a cozy fire. The whole atmosphere was welcoming and I relaxed even more.

"Hello, Luin," the seer had said.

"Madam," I greeted, nodding in grave courtesy as my mother had taught me. I was still looking at my lap when a wizened hand reached into my field of vision and I let her clasp our hands together.

I stared at our hands and took in their differences while I waited for her to speak the words I already knew deep down. Age spots and dark blue veins painted her skin, while mine retained the even complexion of youth. That wasn't the biggest difference, though. Her hands glowed with magic while mine were the dull peachy color of childhood. My magic hadn't come in yet – not reliably.

My lessons were supposed to start next week. The magic wouldn't come in for another year or two, but after our naming ceremonies, the Seelie taught their children magic theory to prepare them. Mom had already bought new uniforms for me and they were pressed and ready in my closet. I hadn't had the heart to tell her I'd never wear them.

"Your soul mate is Unseelie," the woman said. Her voice was soft and gentle, and I was relieved to hear no judgment in her tone.

I looked up into eyes that were dark and strong like iron and was surprised to see that her expression hadn't changed at all from when I walked in. She looked perfectly at ease. No sympathy, no distrust.

"Thank you, Madam," I said. If she wanted to act like this was a completely normal reading, I was happy to go along with it.

I had enough hard conversations coming later.

"You're welcome, Luin. Take care of yourself." I stood and bowed once before heading back home, but her words haunted my steps.

Take care of yourself – as though she knew I was leaving. Like it was a simple fact and like she didn't care to change my mind. I clung to those words. I could take comfort in them later, when everyone else tried to convince me to stay.

I walked into my mother's house – not my home for much longer, and I knew better to cling to sentimentality right now. She wasn't in the kitchen or in her reading room as I would have expected, but I wanted to get this talk over with now. Waiting would only make me anxious, so I went looking for her.

She was in the last place I went, my own bedroom. She sat on my bed, tears streaming down her face and my already-packed bag sitting on the bed next to her. It had been hidden in my closet under stacks of books and bulky winter clothing, so she must have really been going through my things to find it.

"Something was off," she said. Her voice wobbled, and hearing it was almost as bad as seeing her tears. "Children are usually so nervous when they go to the seer. They usually want the support of their family. And you..."

I nodded. She didn't have to explain.

"And then I realized... you've been saying goodbye for weeks, haven't you?"

My mother's eyes met mine, their mercury color brightened by the redness surrounding them. I felt that precious calm slip away even more. "I have to go," I said, and desperately hoped she wouldn't try to talk me out of it. I wasn't sure I could bear it, and it wouldn't change anything.

I didn't give my mother enough credit. She shut her eyes and breathed deeply for a few minutes. When they opened again, she was calmer. "I understand."

Then her face crumpled anew and she shook her head, staring at me in mute horror. "Your father," she gasped. "He's not coming home until Sunday. You can't-" she shook her head and started over, "He'll never forgive himself if he doesn't see you again." Tears rolled down her cheeks even faster than before and I rushed forward to hug her.

My mother clutched me in arms like iron bands, but I didn't try to resist. Tomorrow was the last time I'd see her, so I needed to soak in as much of her affection as I could. "It's okay," I assured her. "He'll come."

Dad was away for work, but before he left, I made him swear he would be here for the day of my naming ceremony. He had laughed and shaken his head. "You're worrying for nothing. Hardly anyone ever has an Unseelie soul mate. The odds of it happening to you are almost zero. And even it does happen, it doesn't mean you have to leave."

"Please, Dad. I need you there." I had known he would react like this – blatant denial. He truly believed what he was saying and had been just as calm before my sister's reading with the seer. I also knew that if I insisted I needed him, he wouldn't let me down.

My father had looked down at me and I watched while his smile slipped into a frown. "Okay, son. I'll be there."

He must not have told Mother about his promise. Probably trying to avoid worrying her, for all the good that did now.

My mother pulled away just enough to stare down at me. She sighed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Okay. You probably need some time. I think I'll make a cup of tea, and you just... join me if you feel up to it."

I nodded and sat on the bed while she stood and left. I would rather spend every second with my family I could, but I knew my mother wasn't going to go straight to the kitchen to make her tea. She'd go to her bedroom first, and she'd probably do some hard crying.

I should have made my father come home a day early. She could have used his support.

--

Saying goodbye to my parents and my sister wasn't easy, and I never liked to dwell on the memory. Saying goodbye to everyone else was easier, but it was so much worse. It was obvious my extended family and friends thought I was an idiot for choosing to go, or even worse – they thought I was a traitor. My parents were quick to intercede on my behalf, and in the end, all my farewells were rushed as my parents hurried me away from all the negativity.

My sister carried my packed bag for me while my father held one hand and my mother held the other. They all walked me right up to the gate – the portal to the human realm that mirrored ours. A guard stood watch while I was passed around for hugs – and then passed around again.

Finally, I had to end it. If I let them, they would stand here smothering me with love and affection until sundown, and I didn't think my heart could take it. Not knowing I was giving all this up. Not knowing just how alone I was about to be.

My sister passed me my bag and my mother pulled a cloth-wrapped parcel out of the satchel she wore at her hip. "For the road," she said with a watery smile. When I held the parcel to my nose, it smelled of her homemade bread, the one I loved best. I clutched the bread to my chest and tried hard not to cry.

"Thank you," I whispered – any louder and my voice would break.

"Stay," Corrin whispered.

"Corrin!" Mother scolded sharply.

Corrin just shook her head. "You're a kid, Luin. Stay for a few years. Go if you have to, but why not finish growing up first?"

I shook my head firmly. "No one will look at me the same, especially not now that they know I'm going to leave. And I won't make him wait for me."

Besides, I had seen the way teachers treated a student who was known to have an Unseelie mate. Mistrust was there, certainly, but also a lot of lesson time was spent talking about the glory of the Seelie and the importance of community rather than about magic theory or anything remotely scholarly. Better not to drag out my goodbyes or put myself through that.

My sister's lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded her understanding. "I love you," she said simply. "I'm going to miss you like a limb."

"You'll be okay," I whispered again, and hugged her one last time.

When we let go, I turned back to my parents and was engulfed in a double-hug that pressed me against them both. "You'll be okay," Mother said, echoing my words to my sister. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"Of course he will," Father agreed. He kissed the top of my head and stepped back, pulling my mother with him.

"I love you guys, and... I'm sorry," I said. My voice cracked and I turned away.

A strong hand grasped my chin and turned me back to face them. "Don't apologize, son. I'm proud of you," Father said.

Mother nodded from behind him. "So proud. And we love you forever."

I nodded and ran for the gate. I couldn't bear for this to go on any longer. The gatekeeper looked down at me with hard eyes. "Do you understand that by passing through this gate, you are choosing banishment from our realm?"

"Yes."

"And do you understand that contact with anyone within this realm is forbidden and will result in their banishment, as well?"

"Yes."

The gatekeeper held out a board that held a form for me to sign. I read through it carefully, but it was more of the same – just an acceptance of my banishment and all the terrible things that could happen if I went against that. I signed my name at the bottom and handed it back, and the gatekeeper stepped to the side.

My feet were rooted to the ground while I debated stealing one last glance at my family, but the hurt was too raw and I didn't think I could stand it. So, I crossed through the gate – and the portal it held – without a look back.

And then I was alone, and I stayed alone for a very long time.