You Won The Bet

Lapis felt like the men's stares were about to bore a hole into his forehead. He knew Allen wouldn't let his blunder side, much less take his side, so he turned to Myrven, looking at him with pleading eyes. It made Nyell's mouth twitch. Why did it feel like he was bullying the shaman? It was irritating how he had been ready to spill the beans at the drop of a hat not long ago, but now that he was asking, Lapis was suddenly not so willing.

"Nyell," Myrven sighed, yielding to the beta's pleads. "Are you sure you want to know? You've been avoiding the subject of destined mates and their importance to shamans all along. So why asking now? You may not like the answer."

"That's for me to decide," Nyell frowned. "Stop beating around the bush, and just tell me what are destined mates for shamans. If you don't tell me, I'll ask my father later. Oh, and if my sister hears about my inquiring, she'll most likely also pitch in her knowledge, although I'm not sure it'll be accurate. She has a rather romantic view of destined mates that put everything related to the subject into pink shades."

"…"

"So?"

"Will you not put my aide into a difficult position, please?" Allen chuckled, drawing his destined mate's attention to him. "Destined mates are not that much of a beautiful thing, unlike what Isa is claiming. It was romanticized over the years, but at its most basic form, destined mates are born out of an instinctive attraction between two people with nearly perfect compatibility. We feel this attraction more strongly than others thanks to our species and our bestial instinct."

"Perfect compatibility…? Are you kidding me? There's nothing compatible with our personalities!" 

"Will you let me finish before cutting my explanation? The two people's personalities are actually more or less irrelevant, for destined mates are physically attracted to each other. Their physical affinity triggers physical reactions so it feels like the world has been turned upside down, creating the illusion of butterflies in the stomach and similar feelings. This near-perfect affinity tricks the brain and draws out the beast inside us. More often than not, people have this feeling, this certitude, that it's love at first sight because of the sudden surge of hormones in their bodies. They can't get enough of the endorphins released into their bloodstreams when their mates are nearby, and they get addicted to the feeling, just like drugs."

"Endorphins…?" Nyell repeated, wondering what the fuck was that, before shaking his head. "Are you sure that's what destined mates are? I mean, that's not what my father told me at all! He said destined mates are blessed by the god of fate and meant for each other! Like, they are born for one another."

"That's cutting the explanation short," Allen chuckled. "All the god of fate does is create an opportunity for two people with the highest affinity to meet. His "blessing" is to allow you to meet your mate. It's not creating them: Yuel watches over all living beings, and when he notices that two of them are a perfect match, he links them together with a thread of fate in the hopes that they will meet each other. To put it bluntly, he intertwines their destinies. He's not the god of creation, so he cannot purposely create a being for another one. But because destined mates are so drawn to each other, they usually spend their lifetimes together, and rumors about how such mates are meant and born for each other spread over the years. It's the people who have created the myth of destined mates, embellishing the bond between these individuals to what we know today."

Nyell was floored, his mouth hanging open. He glanced at Lapis to ascertain that Allen wasn't trying to fool him, and the older man scratched his cheek, feeling awkward. 

"Well," he gulped, "that's the theory our tribe has come up with. But it doesn't mean destined mates aren't something sacred! Especially for us shamans. A destined mate with the highest affinity is like a divine blessing; no one can change that. Meeting them is considered a gift from the god of fate. There's nothing more precious to us than our destined mate."

"And why's that?" Nyell squinted.

Silence was his answer. Lapis had gotten the clue from his chief and lowered his head, shrinking on himself. He added something he shouldn't have added again. He could already see the bottom of the cliff waiting for him and his mangled corpse at its feet. When would he learn to shut up…?

"Oh, stop it, Allen!" Nyell growled, noticing his destined mate coldly staring at his beta. "Enough with the secrecy! I want to know, so tell me now before I get pissed off. What does having the highest affinity with me do for you?"

"Don't get too angry, Nyell," Myrven smiled gently, trying to meditate between the two. "Shamans have secrets that, once revealed, can put them at risk. When people from our tribe bring their mates from among outsiders, we usually wait after the mating ceremony before tackling the more sensitive subject about us. It's a way to protect us from harm. I'm not saying you will try to hurt us if we tell you, but it's tradition. I hope you understand."

"Traditions? To hell with traditions! How am I supposed to decide whether to go through that darn mating ceremony or not if you don't tell me what being mate with that guy entails?!" 

"Well, it's–Wait." Myrven's eyes grew wide in surprise as the underlying meaning behind Nyell's words settled in. Meanwhile, Lapis held his breath, and Allen cocked an eyebrow, seemingly wondering if his ears weren't playing tricks on him. "Are you seriously considering going through the mating ceremony? With Allen?"

The men's shocked faces were priceless, and Nyell thought he very much would have liked to immortalize them. He hadn't planned to tell them this yet, but now that the cat was out of the bag, he might as well go ahead and spit out everything on his mind. 

"Yes, and no. I've thought about it, but I'm not exactly considering it yet. I'll be following you back to your tribe after we've dealt with the elders, so I do need to think about my future."

"You will what?" Allen asked, an almost blank look on his face. 

'Oh right, I didn't tell him,' Nyell thought, remembering that he had only told Lapis and Myrven after blurting out that he was Allen's destined mate back at the tribe. He had made his decision then but had yet to talk to the person concerned. 

"I said I'll come with you," Nyell rolled his eyes before clapping his hands, sarcastically adding, "Congrats! You won the bet."

The straightforward words were somewhat anticlimactic and rendered Allen speechless. He hadn't expected to hear that today, and certainly not in this fashion.

"Bet?" Lapis repeated. "What bet?"

Allen ignored Lapis, his gaze locked on his destined mate. The shock passed, and he regained his ability to talk. A meaningful smile stretched his lips as he said:

"So, you hate me a little less, hm?"

"Just a little less. Like, a iota less."

"Is that so."

'His pleased face is so annoying,' Nyell silently grimaced, resisting the urge to pinch the man's cheeks to get rid of that smile, before speaking out loud, "Anyway, I'll be coming with you. So, amn't I meeting you halfway? Shouldn't you do the same and tell me what I mean to you as your destined mate? That's the least you could do."

"I guess we can make an exception," Allen chuckled. He was the chief; if someone among his people had enough guts to complain, he could always shut them up with his status. "You see, shamans are born with a higher amount of spiritual energy than ordinary people, which allows them to conduct ceremonies, contact the divine and the dead, and so on. The more abundant the spiritual energy a shaman has, the stronger they are. But mortal beings aren't supposed to have this much energy in them, and that's why shamans usually have a weaker physical constitution. Spiritual energy takes a toll on the body as it anchors itself into every part of it, be it the nerves, muscles, organs, or bones. As such, shamans have to learn to control the spiritual energy cursing through their bodies if they don't want to go through a painful death. That's also why most babies who are born with higher spiritual energy die as they have to intuitively awaken the capability of circulating their spiritual energy before even taking their first breath."

"Then, that explains why shamans are rare," Nyell mumbled, realizing that most babies would certainly die and not get the chance to grow up. "But couldn't another shaman help the babies circulate their spiritual energy?"

"No," Allen shook his head. "You would need to use your own spiritual energy to circulate someone else's, but that's impossible. The two spiritual energy flows would enter into a conflict and repulse each other, creating irreversible damage to both the baby and the shaman. The encounter of two different spiritual energies creates a sparkle that tears every part of the body, a bit like lightning."

"That doesn't make sense!" Nyell gasped, realizing why Lapis was freaking out earlier. Shamans had a higher amount of spiritual energy, but the common mortals also had some, albeit just a little. Still, that was enough for the two flows to repulse each other. "You've been sharing your spiritual energy with me!"

"Because you're my destined mate," Allen sighed. "Like I said, destined mates have a perfect affinity to each other. That also applies to their spiritual energy. It means we have the same wavelength, and if I'm careful not to push your body over its limits, I can share my spiritual energy with you. And it also means that if my spiritual energy ever wreaks havoc, you're the only one who can calm it down."

"In other words," Myrven continued, ignoring the daggers his chief threw at him, "you're the only one who can tame his spiritual energy and extend his life. Shamans usually don't live past forty because their bodies give up, unable to keep up with the high level of spiritual energy. They experience organ failures and die. Regular mates can help to a certain degree, thanks to the mating ceremony, but they're not as effective as destined mates. What they can do is limited."

Nyell's lips trembled as he stared at Allen in disbelief. Now, he could understand why he asked his father for him when they negotiated for their help. Nyell was that important to Allen's well-being. And yet… What was this man thinking when they made the bet? Nyell's voice was weak as he asked:

"Would you really have let me go if you hadn't won the bet?"

"Yes, of course," Allen shrugged, his usual smile on his lips. "What's the point of spending my life with someone who hates my guts? Well, that could be entertaining in a way, but yeah. Also, I'm an anomaly, like Lapis said, and my body is quite healthy. I should be able to live a long life, regardless of my marital status."

"Your healthy body doesn't prevent spiritual energy outbreaks, though," Myven mercilessly pointed out. "Even you will die if all your veins burst at the same time or if a ceremony goes awry. You're not immortal."

"Thank you for the reminder."

'You don't know the importance of destined mates to shamans!' they had said, and Nyell now realized just how right the White Moon tribe's members had been. Destined mates were a matter of life and death for them, yet… 

And yet, Allen had planned to keep his mouth shut and let him decide for himself what he wanted to do without burdening him with the knowledge that his life hung in the balance. The more Nyell learned about the man, the less he could understand him and the less he knew what to think of him. Allen was too much of a mystery. However, the mystery gradually piqued Nyell's curiosity. The man's existence was growing on him, but it was something Nyell hadn't yet realized.