Have you ever believed in soulmates?

Malleus Draconia was not a man to believe in superstition. He found it almost laughable - hearing the way his ‘friends’ would almost perk up at the idea of finding someone that they could have sworn was their dream person; this alone in Fae culture was hilarious - like marrying a demon. To think that it was possible to marry the person of your dreams, rather a person from your dreams, was deplorable.

The way their eyes would almost get excited talking about the faceless men and women of their sleep was oddly humoring. After all, it was not something he had experienced in his 178 years of living – thankfully. But there was a strange longing. The desire to experience things the same way as others - the want and need to be the same. But Malleus would never express such a… human desire.

It wasn’t in his nature as a fae. Hell - he still hadn’t even told the other students (except for those closer to him) his true name. Some students still simply called him by whatever nonsense name they had chosen for him. But - it was strange hearing Horton come from your lips. Horton was a weird name, one you had simply given him for having his horns. He didn’t blame you for such a nonsense fret, but it was… intoxicating - hearing your voice call for him.

Was this what it felt like to see someone so familiar yet so distant?

The way his classmates gawked at the people that they would call ‘the person of their dreams’ - is that what you are? No, it was an absurd thought! That never happened to Malleus Draconia, it can’t. What ability would he have as a Fae if not his own disconnection from human ideologies?

But what was this tight feeling in his chest? He wasn’t some… weak human. He wasn’t like the students around him, especially not those so easily focused on their desires. But… this feeling, it felt straight out of a fairy tale – the familiar feeling of the paper and quill starting its trudge across the papyrus with the familiar line: “Once upon a time…”