Top Ten Sera’s Ending POV
Sera’s persistent curiosity was not without reason. Though she hadn’t spoken of it outright, it wasn’t just intuition that led her to jab her finger toward Solana’s arm and press her about the second Etching. Sera was perceptive in ways most people dismissed—a sharp observer of details and patterns, especially when they involved people she cared about. And Solana’s Soul Etching had never been entirely quiet.
It wasn’t just the glowing warmth that pulsed faintly between them, a bond that felt undeniable even to someone like Sera, who preferred to live in the chaos of the present rather than dwell on mysterious destiny nonsense. It was something deeper. When their marks had flared brightly during their "First Touch," Sera had noticed something—an energy, a thread, that seemed both present and absent. The glow hadn’t felt complete, as though part of it reached for something else, someone else. She hadn’t said anything at the time, but it had stayed with her.
Then there was Solana herself—how her arm seemed to burn with meaning even when she wasn’t looking at it, how her gaze flicked briefly to her sleeve when the bond between them strengthened. It wasn’t deliberate, but Sera caught the subtle shift in her expression each time, the way her lips tightened or her eyes seemed distant. There was weight in the silence, a heaviness Sera couldn’t quite name but wasn’t willing to ignore. And Sera, being who she was, had an unrelenting need to dig into things that didn’t add up.
When the glow of Solana’s Etchings had flickered faintly during quiet moments—or during their bond’s stronger pulses—Sera had begun to piece things together. She’d noticed how Solana’s marked arm felt heavier somehow, even when it wasn’t glowing, and how her silence about the Etchings stood in stark contrast to the ease with which she’d read the words on Sera’s own mark. All those little tells added up to something bigger: Solana wasn’t just marked for one bond. There was another thread, another pull she hadn’t spoken about.
But for all Sera’s observation skills, she was deeply intuitive too. The faint tension in Solana’s voice whenever marks were mentioned, the way her gaze softened but remained distant—it was clear there was pain wrapped around this secret. Sera’s bond with Solana wasn’t just glowing magic; it let her feel pieces of the emotions Solana tried to bury. Even if Solana hadn’t said anything, Sera could sense it—the weight pressing against her soulmate, the quiet ache tied to something unspoken.
Her decision to ask about the second Etching wasn’t random or careless. Sera had been chewing on the question for a while, letting it gnaw at her until it spilled out with her usual directness. And even as Solana stiffened, brushing her hand over her marked arm protectively, Sera knew she’d hit something raw. She couldn’t bring herself to regret it, though. If Solana was holding this pain close, keeping it hidden, then it was her job—their bond’s job—to bring it into the light.
Soul Etchings, from what Solana had explained, tied two soul's together. Sera’s mark—the humor, the brightness—was one thread. But that lingering absence? That subtle pull? It had to be the other. And though Sera wasn’t the type to buy into destiny or mysterious magic nonsense, she couldn’t ignore what she felt: Solana deserved far better than a mark that burned with rejection. Someone tied to her was missing—and more than that, they’d hurt her before they’d even spoken.
Of course Sera couldn’t keep her thoughts to herself. When Solana finally admitted that the second mark read “No,” Sera’s storm-grey eyes had flashed with anger, indignation flaring up as easily as her grin. Someone—some unknown tit—was tied to Solana’s mark, meant to share something meaningful with her, and had instead carved rejection into her skin. The idea of anyone daring to make Solana feel less than enough sparked something protective and unyielding in Sera, pulling out a fierceness she hadn’t expected.
It was the bond that drove her words, even if she didn’t fully understand it yet. The connection between them hummed faintly, thrumming with shared warmth and fire, and Sera couldn’t help but feel like they didn’t need the other thread—not with how they fit together. Maybe it wasn’t destiny, or magic, or anything profound. But it was them. And that felt far more real.
Solana’s silence only confirmed it. The guarded calm in her voice, the way she carried the mark with quiet dignity—it was clear she’d accepted its pain long ago. But that didn’t mean Sera had to. She’d spent a lifetime defending her friends, her allies, her people. Solana? She wasn’t just a companion. She was a soulmate—one tied to Sera’s own glow, their own bond. And Sera, in all her chaotic, irreverent energy, wasn’t about to let anyone—including some absent soulmate who thought they had the right to say “No”—make Solana feel less than what she deserved.
When Sera finally strode off with her irreverent whistle, her thoughts were alight with conviction. Solana might carry the second mark, but she didn’t have to carry it alone. If Sera had her way, they’d face it together—and if that meant confronting whoever had dared to tie themselves to such rejection, then Sera was more than ready.
The faint hum of their bond lingered between them as Solana watched her go, and though the second mark still burned, its weight lifted just slightly. And Sera? She knew, in her chaotic and unrelenting way, that Solana would never face that word—“No”—without backup. Not while Sera was around. That was what mattered. And that was enough.