Soul Fragments

His dark violet hair shines in the setting sun, nearly as bright as the smile that graces his face. It was New Years Eve, and the bustling port city he found himself in was alive and electric with hope and joy. He weaves through the crowds easily, inky black eyes taking in every sight he possibly could. Wanderlust had always haunted him, cheeky as the term was. He ached to see the world, to experience all he could, to meet new people and to find joy throughout it all. And so, he set out, spreading his wings in a leap of faith. The new year was always a chance for new beginnings. Who knows? Maybe tonight, everything will change. Either way, for better or for worse, it was a new era, and he’d be damned if he didn’t welcome it with open arms. 

She clings tightly to the wagon as it careens through familiar streets, her younger sibling whooping with excitement. She can’t help the smile that crosses her face at the noise, worried as she is for their safety. Ideally, they would make it to the carnival in one piece. Beneath the current concern for their driving is a much deeper-seated fear. The pair had left their family behind just as disaster had struck their farm, but visiting the carnival was a yearly tradition she couldn’t pass up. She takes a deep breath and dares to close her eyes for a moment, but they quickly shoot open again at a curse from their driver. First things first: keep everyone in the wagon.

They peer through greenery at the five figures on the beach, taking care where they place their feet so as to remain hidden. One of them, they recognised from a deep tug in their gut, something in them calling out to its sister piece in the young child. These poor adventurers. They had no idea where they had just landed. But it was no matter. As long as the child remained with them, the others could go free. But if they did not comply… That would be a problem for later, they decided. For now, they watched. Just as they were wondering whether they should make their presence known, fate seemed to decide for them. A twig snapped under their bare foot, eliciting a curse in an ancient language. The figures’ heads snapped toward the treeline, and they heaved a deep sigh. It was now or never.

She is rather surprised that she’s not the most silent individual in this bar cellar. In life, she had been known as someone who was good with words. In death, though, her mind and spirit were centred around one thing and one thing only. This job was merely a way to prove her mettle, to help those who were helping her. And so she finds herself in the company of three others, awaiting their de facto leaders for more information on this job. She doesn’t mind it, really. But that ever-burning flame in her core reminds her of exactly why she was brought back. As a fifth individual stumbles in, coughing and covered in dirt, she raises a curious eyebrow. The new guy, presumably. As she hears two pairs of feet descending the stairs into the cellar and the ever-growing noise of bickering between them, she feels ever so slightly grateful that she wasn’t the newest to the team.

They spend many late nights rolling dice and speaking in voices that are not their own, telling stories with those they hold dear. And every late night, every new character, they think that maybe this part of them will get to be loved, will get a happy ending. This version of themself they have placed in another world, maybe fate will be kinder to them. And if it is not, then maybe these individual fragments, these extensions of their soul will be stronger than they are. And they will continue to tell stories, continue to adventure, continue to find friends and love of all kinds, continue to struggle and prevail, to continue, this creator and their creations.