As dawn broke on the frosty Winter Solstice morning, a middle-aged magician chanted to her goddess, pleading for a sign of her life partner, and if there was none to be had, that she might have a sign for that too.
Freya of Asgard listened.
She’d heard this refrain before, from the young wishing to discover a perfect mate and a perfect love. In truth, perfection does not exist. Most found love from circumstance and a willingness to be compassionate toward another.
But there were those with fractured hearts who might not find love, whether that of friendship or romance, without encouragement to trust another.
For them, Freya had pity.
She cast her spell across Midgard, that the names might be known and written on the skin of the lifebonded to appear by the third decade of life, as the Midgardians kept time.
Loki smiled whimsically when the magic left Freya’s fingertips. He tugged at the green strands, twisting them so that, instead of names, only the first words spoken by the lifebonded pair were written upon the flesh instead.
Furious at the interference, Freya added another powerful layer to her magic, one that would encourage the lifebonded to gravitate through time and space toward one another.
Loki pouted, but he and Freya spent many days with Heimdall, curious as to what their magic had wrought.
At first, the Midgardians failed to understand the meaning of the words some of the inhabitants found on their skin. But in time, stories were told, knowledge passed down, and the lifebonded unconsciously sought out their matches, often before their marks appeared.