I look around and see everyone walking past one another. Faceless, same body built, but each with different colors on their chests. Everyone keeps walking on an endless journey. Some stopping to talk to another soul then leaves, others stop by and spend a fairly good amount of time hanging out with a soul bleeding a different color. Everyone has their shade but only one has the same shade as yours. I look down and watch as mine glows like a flame burning. I haven't seen one like it. I remember Vega telling me that finding that twin flame, or a soulmate, whichever I find, he says, will be hard. He said I might stumble to a soul that looks so close like mine but falls short when the color starts burning and we'll both realize it doesn't fit.
 
In the City of Lost Souls, we spend most of our time walking, talking, and meeting with millions of souls. We have one goal: to be able to get to the real world. A world with tangible bodies, senses, and a world that values the only thing we have here—connection. The only way to though would be to find your soulmate, your twin flame, or whichever they call it. When I ask Vega do we get to be thrown together, or whether do we know each other, or do our feelings still coincide with on another, Rigel pulls him away and stalls his eyes on me. 

"You need to find each other," Vega whispers as Rigel drags him.

"Always." Rigel annoyingly says before he rolls his eyes at me.

How do I look like? I don't know. I guess I look like everyone else here. A shadow, as to how they call it. No face, no body, nothing. Just a burning flame of a unique color on my chest. I look around and see everyone so busy. The souls never bump into each other. They only way we'd be able to feel each other will be through connection. So we talk, we share dreams, we share fears, we share visions, and all the things we all know but can't figure where it came from. So we don't stay too long for a soul if none of our perceptions fit. We don't waste our time trying out a different color when we know it won't burn the same way our color burns.

"Be careful, though," Vega said. "Sometimes, you'll only really know what your color is, or the other's when your flames burn with the same intensity." 

I stare at him, curiosity on a full charge. My flame could still change?

"That could be the case why so many souls are skipping on their perfect matches. They don't try hard enough." Rigel says with a bitter taste on his lips. "They can't wait to move quickly."

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