Arthur Leywin
I didn't wear my crown today, even as I made last-minute preparations before the mirror. It had been such a long ti since my long, auburn hair had been free of that circlet, I'd nearly forgotten what it was like.
"The crown would make a nice touch," I noted, adjusting my cravat. It was a deep grayish-black, laced with a pattern that made think of the distant stars. "I think the light colors do good, though."
I was dressed in a white suit of the Dicathian style, embroidered with simring runes about the collar and sleeves. The entire thing radiated a subtle sort of magic: it wasn't as flashy as it could've been, and the obsidian trim glimred easily. The trim was designed to draw attention along the edges like a river, ferrying the little boat of an observer's awareness up to the neck, then the head, where my eyes would finally enrapture any attention. My fire-auburn hair was tied back into a loose tail, brushing against the white fur mantle on my shoulders that trailed a crimson cloak. That had been a gift from Virion: sothing he'd worn back in the old days, when he'd been king of Elshire.
While I had been king, I'd been the sort to wear inconspicuous clothes. Simple gray shirts, cool black slacks, gloves that could be found at any armorsmith. This was hardly attention-drawing like the clothes of the many bawdy nobles I'd t in my long career, but it was still more descriptive than I was accustod to.
You've beco far too used to simple clothes, Arthur, I chided myself, adjusting my cravat the best I could. Really, it gave an excuse to try to calm my pounding heart. I was far too accustod to treating the blandness as armor. You know what Tess would say. No need to prepare for a battle. Just go out and feel.
When I had thought my best friend gone, and when I had thought the need greatest to keep his mory bright, I'd lingered at the place of my greatest victory, hoping to lap up so courage I'd been lacking. The problem was, well…
"There isn't exactly a marriage ghost I can talk to for advice, is there? No ancient asuran wisdom for how to love soone?" I sighed, shoulders slumping. "That would've been nice."
I felt Regis' absence as I stared into the mirror, catching the little flecks of who Grey had beco in my irises. For so long, there had been another reflected in that mirror: a broken boy with hair the color of straw, then an armored king with white-scale armor and flowing wheat hair. It was strange: only when I had beco accustod to his presence had he chosen his own path.
I didn't know if the being who had "judged" had moved on to another place, if he'd been separated altogether, or if he'd joined Aurora Asclepius in the Remaking. But when he'd taken his leave, rising to wherever he could be, he had left with an embrace.
I had been the only person who could ever hold him, in the end. Forged of what I was, and forged in who I was, he had known the long journey better than nearly any other.
Who have you beco inside there, Grey? I wondered with a solemn smile, staring at the mirror as if it might give all the answers I had ever needed. So very different from who you were. It's almost miraculous, isn't it? How far we've co?
What a journey it had been.
I finally pulled myself away from the mirror, smirking at my own inability to stay on track. I knew that a special few were waiting for at the entrance, and it was only a few minutes till the music would begin.
I'd been late to et my family so many tis throughout my life. So many tis had my wants and desires slipped by theirs. So many tis had theirs missed mine. Grey had not always been able to see. Neither had Arthur. Such was life, it seed, but if I were late to my own wedding?
Well, I'd never hear the end of it.
I strolled away from the mirror, hands locked behind my back. As I went, I humd a tune. The Song of the Storm, it was called, the first ballad Toren Daen had ever played before the people of Alacrya. Its notes carried forward through the grand hall, towards the great, amalgam of happy people. Every window let in a little dappled, late-afternoon sunlight, tracing a pathway for , a light between the shadows. The mana itself was agitated, a racing heartbeat ready to unravel itself. Or maybe that was just , my pulse warping everything around ?
Through the halls, this way and that, a labyrinth built into the side of the Grand Mountains made way for . I rembered all the tis I had strolled through the halls of the flying castle, my strength pushing my chest outward, keeping my chin held high. There had been tis when I'd teetered on the brink of feeling nothing at all as I'd walked those halls. Now, with only my shadow as my companion, I struggled to keep all of what I felt locked inside.
As I neared the entrance, though, I slowed, surprise overtaking my earlier excitent. My heart abruptly stuttered, and I let out a breath.
Many had been invited to our wedding. No matter what I wished, it could only be the talk of the realm. The union of Arthur Leywin, King of Dicathen, and Tessia Eralith, Princess of Elshire, presented too much to the world for it ever to be ignored. Many we'd known had been invited, but in truth, as few as Tessia and I could afford. We'd wanted our mont to be special, sothing unique, quiet, and intimate. Perhaps the lingering asura, nobles, and highbloods of the world would watch, but they wouldn't have been allowed to see.
But so had been invited. Those we knew, those we loved. But so, we had… not expected to co.
I stood frozen for a mont, locking eyes with the one man I may have wished most of all to join us, and the one I had expected the least. And he, in turn, scrutinized back, leaning against one of the nearby pillars.
I raised an awkwardly scratched the back of my neck, a weak smile on my face. "Hey, Nico."
Nico looked at with pursed lips and dark eyes that could never seem to unfocus, no matter where they landed. He was dressed in a nice suit: coal-black, in the Alacryan style with the many runes along the collar, arcing down to the back. His skin was pale as ever, bags under his eyes: but his wild, unkempt hair had been brushed back, pulled into a surprising semblance of a neat part. Though I knew much of what I witnessed was deceiving, the re understanding of what lay beneath added more weight to how my oldest friend had presented himself.
"Hey, Grey," he replied, eyes a laser focus on , lips a near-perpetual scowl.
A few heartbeats passed. "I didn't think you'd co, old friend," I said honestly, feeling the afternoon sun on my back. "I'm glad you're here."
Nico glared down at the ground for a few monts, appearing to gather his thoughts. "You know I didn't want to co," he said, tapping a finger on his arm. "I probably shouldn't have."
"I still invited you," I noted, taking a few steps forward, a smile on my face. "And no matter what, it will be quite the show. This is a ti for happiness; a ti for celebration. My heart wouldn't be full as it could be without you here."
Nico looked back up at , his eyes strained. I saw, in that split instant, how exhausted he was. That focus, that potency, that anger? It drained sothing inside of my oldest friend every second it held him fast. Even now, with so much joy palpable in the air. "You don't speak like you used to, Grey," he noted irritably. "It'd be so much easier if you did. None of this sappy bullshit."
My smile fell as I looked at the man who had been brought back into this world for one more try. Between us, so much of what we'd been through together flickered by, a connection made without words. He had been reluctant to return to this world when Toren had called him here. Sothing in him had been too… sharp, wanting to cut more than anything. Agrona had left his scars, twisting the kind boy who had been my oldest friend into a shadow of himself.
And I knew, deep inside, that Nico still hated . No matter what he did, no matter how he tried, he could not stop hating .
I let out a breath, turning to one of the windows. I andered over to it, gazing out over the broad expanse of the Grand Mountains. Far below the slopes, a tiny dot signified the thriving town of Ashber, where I'd grown up so many years ago.
"You know I grew up here, no?" I asked as Nico loped over to the nearest window, a little cutout of living shadow. I pointed to the town far below, perfectly visible with my mana-enhanced vision. "It's where I first learned I had co to another world. I was shocked, truly. But I was… not the sa as I was when I died. Sothing made it easier to be Arthur, then, growing as a child."
The sun glinted off Nico's skin, and if I twisted away my perception for aether and mana, I could almost believe what I saw as he scrutinized the town below like an anthill, looking perpetually as if he wanted to bring his boot down upon it. But below the illusion of a human being, I knew a construct of soultal bronze lingered.
When Toren had brought Nico back from the grave, there had been no body to bring him to. And that, too, could not have been done. For our final gambit to rescue Cecilia from Agrona, Nico couldn't afford to don a physical form again. Only now, after the war was over, had he been able to take the closest possible option.
And so his spirit, anchored to a Leviathan Pearl in a mimicry of how Aurora Asclepius had been anchored to Toren Daen's mana core, manifested itself in one of the djinn's feather-constructs, as the lost asura had once done.
" and…" Nico appeared to swallow, " and Cecilia. We talked with many of the phoenixes. And Spellsong, the bastard." Nico shook his head, fighting to smooth over the bitterness in his features. "The Leviathan Pearls we're connected to? They're… learning from us, shaping themselves as we are connected to them. And one day, eventually, when these soultal husks no longer serve a use, we can be reborn."
I raised an eyebrow, but didn't look away from the far-distant Ashber, imrsed in twin mories. Of an orphanage in a world far, far away, where I had grown up once, and those dirty roads. "As children, do you think?"
"They couldn't say," Nico muttered, still glaring down at the town. "Just that we'd have physical forms again. The leviathans weren't helpful either. Considering 'Lord Eccleiah' gave them to Spellsong before his demise, you'd think they'd have sothing. But no. Nothing."
My oldest friend caught himself as his voice began to rise, then squeezed his eyes shut, forcing out an artificial breath. "It feels like a prison. Everything to feel and nowhere for it to go. And everything that's there is just…"
I raised a hand, feeling compelled to lay it on Nico's shoulder: then I paused, and withdrew it. I rembered the pyre where I'd burned Nico's body, and a little knife of guilt word its way under my ribs. There had been no other way but this, but still. "I am sorry, Nico."
"Don't be," he cut across, looking at for the first ti. "Cecil's the sa, now. Had you kept my body, what would she feel now? She's already so alone. At least now, she has . She knows no sense but her very soul, and can afford no others."
Cecilia had been wounded in a way that could hardly be expressed. Taken by Agrona, used for her power, enslaved to his soul, and forced to his bidding? Few things were as vile, and fewer people could ever survive such an experience with their minds intact. Even now, Cecilia's mind was tender. She said little since her return, speaking only to Nico, , and sotis Toren. She lingered in Elshire, walking between the mist-laden trees, more aloof and elven than the elves themselves.
As I looked at the illusion of Nico's face, sculpted over a bronze automaton, I finally began to understand what drove Nico's hatred so deep, even now. He and Cecilia, in a way, were still alone, them against the world, in a way few had been. Two lone souls bound together to little pieces of bronze. And Nico's eyes wanted nothing more than to share this burden of theirs. Why, then, could not Grey still be as broken? Why could things not be as they once were: three children, facing outward at all that would co their way? Why could it not be the days of the orphanage again?
But sowhere along the way, I had changed and grown. And perhaps I could help them from the depths of where they were, but I was no longer living in the pit with them.
"I know it's little solace, Nico," I said quietly, laying my hand gently on his shoulder, feeling the tal beneath my skin, "but Aurora Asclepius? She was like you, too, I've heard. And now she Remade Fate itself."
A brittle little smile crossed Nico's face, straining there, held up by all that we had known together. "So we just need to be cockroaches, hmmm? Never give up, even when we're squashed?"
"Call naive, but I think it's possible to find sothing new," I said, taking my arm away, glad I'd conveyed so warmth. "It's possible to be reborn. This world is still filled with so much to give, even if it seems any other way. Hell, would you have ever imagined I'd get married?"
Nico's smile slipped, but caught itself, and when it was righted, was sothing more somber. "I was engaged before you were," he mused. "Probably the longest engagent there's ever been. Before we died, we never said 'Till death do us part,' so…"
I laughed, the sound echoing in the halls, interlacing with the waning sunlight. "That's true enough, isn't it?"
Silence lingered for a few monts after. In the mana, in our souls: sothing in both of us was peaceful for that mont, buoyed by a serenity known only by those who have seen so very much of the world's sorrows and pains. And I finally took hold of what I'd sensed since the start of this conversation. "You won't be here for long, will you?"
Nico worked his jaw, staring out at the horizon. "You know how little Cecilia ever spoke, Grey," he said quietly. "Even before… this. It was as if talking could never quite express what she needed to say, so she just… didn't. But you could always see what she ant in her eyes. They always shone, like two little stars. It's why I fell in love with her."
Nico looked at , scrutinizing in a way that told he was committing my image to mory. "She spoke again recently. She said she wanted to know another world, a place unique and different. But in her eyes, I saw a hundred thousand worlds. A hundred thousand worlds where she could be. But this place? It's filled with too much right now. Being here is constricting her more than her soultal shell ever could. There's too much pain. Too much anger. Too much sorrow."
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My oldest friend's lips pursed as he looked over my suit mournfully, lingering on my engagent ring. "Or at least, it has been for us."
I looked at the ring on my finger, recalling the poignant fear and terrifying hope that had circulated through as I'd finally asked Tessia to be my wife, right on the eve of our final confrontation. I could feel it now, unable to be quelled. A joy that had been made a part of as much as Grey had ever been, nurtured and nourished by my loved ones.
"You can have joy here in this world, too," I mused. "I'd like to be your friend again, Nico. For all that we've changed."
"Ever the idealist," Nico scoffed, running a hand through his hair. If his hair were real and not an illusion, it would have left it mussed, tangled, and unkempt in a manner distinct only to him. "We're going to find a world sowhere. She said she wants it to be random, a pure toss of the dice. And so that's what we'll do. But I think we'll be back, cockroach. One day. I don't know when, but we will."
I snorted, gazing at the near-setting sun. Another turn of the world, co and gone. "And when you return, we'll have a dozen kids who'll be calling you Uncle Nico," I teased, nudging my oldest friend's shoulder.
That earned a scoff of purest disgust. "If you make any of those gremlins—"
"Gremlins? Is that what you call all children?"
Nico looked at as if I were dung he'd just managed to step in. It took all I could manage not to burst into laughter then and there. "They're bundles of snot, wails, and soiled linens. What else would you call a gremlin? Regardless—"
"And what if Cecilia wants a kid, hmm?" I prodded, a wicked grin on my face. "Think you can make a gadget to change diapers?"
Sohow, Nico's illusion lost all color in its face. As far as I was aware, it shouldn't have been able to do that. "No. That's not going to happen."
"Maybe?"
"Absolutely not. Children are a ss in every sense of the word. Horrid creatures, puking on everything."
"Co on, Nico," I chided, "Are you completely—"
"No, Grey. She wouldn't, damn you. Just be quiet."
He didn't sound so sure. But as I offered my hand out to my oldest friend, I had the sense inside that whenever we saw each other again, it wouldn't be as Grey and Nico, boys from a world long past. When we t again, it would be as n reborn, bound and bundled in the love of those who cared for us. A lancholic joy seeped through my body, filling more thoroughly than mana ever could. "To second chances, then?"
Nico stared at my hand, his lips the thinnest of lines. In the back of my mind, mories flickered there. Nico, offering his hand, asking to take it to help him save Cecilia from Lady Vera. And , not so long ago, offering mine once more, asking him to rise out of who he had been. First, I had failed to take his hand. And then Fate had mirrored itself when he found himself unable to take mine, a lody dipping low.
It seed as if Fate had done all it could to rend us apart. But now, at the crux of all we'd done?
Nico's hand trembled as he clasped mine. "To second chances, cockroach."
He looked back down the hallway as the light began to dim. "And you're almost late for your wedding."
All of my tender joy evaporated in the lightning bolt of sudden worry. Nico was right: I was nearly late! I stepped past him, hesitated, patted him on the shoulder, then bent space in front of . "I hope the ceremony's enjoyable, old friend," I said, a smile on my face. "I've heard Toren wrote a new composition. You'd appreciate it, I think."
Nico crossed his arms, looking away toward the distant horizon. "Don't worry, Grey. Cecil and I will be there to watch. She's here to see you one more ti, too."
I smiled, thinking of our mutual friend, thinking of all that she and Nico would be able to grow and love. And with that final assurance, I stepped through the twist in space before , teleporting precisely to where I needed to be.
—
I arrived like a king. Naly, with my arms locked behind my back, my chin held high, and an aura of utmost composure radiating from like heat from a forge.
Grandpa Virion, unfortunately, wasn't buying it. He whirled faster than shadow itself when I'd phased into existence, practically aware I was there before I'd even stepped through space. "You brat!" he howled, taking by the shoulders. "Do you have any idea how close of a call that was? I will not have you be late to marrying my granddaughter, do you hear? I would sooner have you sent off to your old rooms in Elshire Castle for such disobedience!"
I scratched the back of my neck, unable to fully hide my embarrassnt. "You do know I'm technically still the king of this continent?" I supplied half-heartedly. Though Darv was likely to form their own independent nation soon, splitting off from the Triunion. "You don't exactly have the authority to—"
"I whooped you to kingdom co when you were a child, Arthur, and I'll whoop you to kingdom co as many tis as it takes. I'm finally going to be your grandfather, which ans you can't get away with being cheeky like you have for so many years."
A hand rested on Virion's shoulder, pulling him back. "Well, Virion," my father proclaid, a smile wide as the sea on his face, "back in my day, you got married in the beast glades! Covered in blood and gri and so things we still don't know about. When every dungeon was, well… a dungeon, punctuality really doesn't matter in the sa way."
Gramps let out an exasperated sigh. "You adventurers," he muttered. "Crazy lot. But that's no excuse for tardiness, Arthur. You cannot ever be late for your wife!"
The old elf was dressed in traditional elven garb: he'd taken on a robe that allowed for freedom of movent, yet made him look like the wind itself. His long, silver hair was tied into a tail, much like mine, giving him the look of so noble sage. Yet for all his words, part of wondered how much having a seer for a wife, as Gramps did, might have skewed his perception of ti a bit.
"I make a lot of promises, Gramps," I mused, looking at the doors that led to the main ceremony hall, "but this one you can trust I'll keep."
Virion raised a hand, clearly intending to muss my hair, but as he noticed the impeccable state of my dress, he thought better of it, grumbling all the way. "I know you will, brat. Call it a side effect of being konked out for years on end, while everyone else plods on without you. You've got to keep hold of the ti you've got."
My father crossed his arms, looking at the doors, his brows creased. He let out a tired sigh. "Don't you know it," he mused, an expression of weary joy on his face. With his ash-brown beard trimd as it was, the similarities between us were starkly evident. "Being here in Ashber reminds why we ca here in the first place, Allie and I."
I quirked a brow, looking at my father with keen interest. "I don't think I rember why we were there in the first place, aside from a quiet retirent from adventuring."
He smiled, and sothing poignant was caught in the net of his eyes, reeled up for to see. "We thought it would be a nice, quiet place to raise a family," he said. "But you grew too fast, son. This place beca too small for you. For us."
And so it is with small towns, I thought, stepping forward and laying a hand on the shoulders of both n who'd escort to the altar. "You both led when I'd left Ashber," I said, looking both of them in the eyes. "Care to lead when I move forward, now?"
I could feel the tension in the ambient mana, a violin bow ready to play. Beyond the grand doors before us lingered so many little fireflies in the night sky of my senses, flickering in and out, pulsating with light.
My father shook his head, and laid a hand on my back. "Aye, it's about ti, isn't it?"
Gramps blinked a few tis, brushing at the tears that had begun to build along his weathered gray lashes. "Let's get you married, brat."
I chuckled lightly, and the doors swung open, buoyed on a swell of rising music. The mana itself waltzed around us, water and earth and fire and wind weaving together, in and out, celebrating the dizzying light in the room. The violins compelled forward, drawing into the hall.
The hall before us was grand and tall, with windows cascading in a reverse waterfall all the way to the ceiling, fifty feet above. They beckoned the descending sun, dappling every guest in little motes of warmth. Every eye was turned to us as we walked down the aisle. Asura, elf, human, dwarf, all watched as we strode on a stave-etched carpet, beckoned forward by the mana-laced music.
The Twin Horns were there: Angela, Durden, Helen, and Jasmine, each watching with smiles that radiated pride in how far I'd co. As I passed their pew, I rembered my ti in Ashber, growing in that hut, practicing my magic. I rembered how I'd hung onto my mother's back, doing all I could to inhale every new scent that the world had offered .
A step further, and I knew what it was to be a child in Elshire again as I saw Alduin and rial. The music pulled back to the days of gallivanting through the mists, hand in hand with the one I'd grow to love, causing mischief across a kingdom.
And then Jasmine's reserved smile, accompanied by a begrudging Trodius, pulled back to the easy days of the adventurer's guild, when all that burdened my shoulders was how best to learn magic. Note to note to note beca dungeon to dungeon to dungeon, each hop through the octave another challenge to overco.
Gideon hadn't bothered to ta his wild hair, but as the mad scientist gave a smirking grin aside his ever-assistant, Emily, I caught a flash of the Xyrus Academy student I'd once been, training day in and day out against his creations. Even Wren Kain and Taci Thyestes stood at attention with a half-dozen mbers of the Hearth, beckoning us forward. Seris Vritra offered her own little smile from where she stood.
Toren Daen stood a ways off to the side of the altar with his students, Ulysseiah and Lusul, sweeping his bow through low, sweet chords. They worked in perfect rhythm, guiding the emotions of all present through the tapestry of past, present, and future. In that mont, I knew that the soulbound mage pulled on a secret he only knew; another world where he had lingered beside . My triumphs and fears and hopes all swelled with his music, a perfect symphony for a perfect mont. Each note was a stone dropped into a lake, ripples cascading over so many souls. In that mont, I could think of no better man to be my best man.
At the very front of the pews, my mother stood with Ellie, tears running down her cheeks. The little dapplings of gray in her auburn hair, burned there by the ever-stress of war, did nothing to diminish her beauty. My sister hardly seed to notice at all, so wide did her mouth hang open as she absorbed the music. When my father stepped away to join them, and Virion to accompany his son, I finally turned my attention absolutely forward.
I took a single step up toward the altar, and the music rose. Then another, and another, a swell in song accompanying ever step upward. I felt all I had been playing out before , then falling into the serene sea I had left behind. From a child in a small town, to adventurer, to academy student, to warrior, to Lance, to king again, my life seed to rush towards this mont, my heart pounding like a thundercloud in my chest.
I turned to look at the crowd, and the music lowered, slipping low, becoming a andering stream in a pleasant grove. So many other tis I had lingered with a crowd before , the people had been my subjects, ready to kneel. But now, as those who had helped us co so far stood arrayed, proud of those they had helped lift to all they could be, I knew I was among friends.
And there, near the back. I smiled at Nico and Cecilia, the two lingering where they could.
The groom arrives first, I thought with anxious anticipation, sweat beading along my neck as I gazed at the doors. The bride, not long after.
That lull in the music felt like an eternity made by Kezess Indraths' spells, a fragnt in ti that couldn't seem to close. But finally, finally, the doors breezed open again, and a vision in white and silver flowed into the hall.
My wife-to-be was clothed in a dress so white it nearly forgot to cast shadows. Erald runes raced along the trim like stallions through a adow. But of all the places that drew my attention, it was her eyes, marked with slashes of elven paint—a warrior's streaks—that called to . They held frozen as she approached, a shy smile on her face.
And when she set her foot down, the music rose again one more ti. Tessia's magic blood like a flower, vines thin as thread wove through her dress in real ti. Patterns arose and ca undone within the fabric, and with every unweaving, silver rose petals burst into the air. Pops of wind magic carried them about the whole theater, bestowing a small gift upon everyone present.
I could not restrain my awe as I beheld the elven princess. Even as she rose upon the steps herself, her lips parted as mine were, eyes searching within , no words passed between us.
"You're beautiful, Tess," I whispered, reaching out a hand towards hers. When she took it, I wondered again if this was rely a dream of so sort; an impossibility of days long past.
"I know," she whispered, squeezing my hand. She ran a hand along my jaw, leaning closer, struggling not to rise on her toes and fall into a kiss. "I think you're quite handso yourself, King Leywin."
"Only because of you," I said honestly, bringing her hand to my lips and pressing it there. mories lingered of our days as children, when I'd learned to feel again. "I could only be this man today because of you."
Tess chuckled, blushing as she always did up to her ears. "I suppose so," she halfways agreed. "But I think all of you is wonderful, Art. I've only ever seen soone worth loving."
I let out a breath, forcing my eyes away from my fiancée, gazing where I felt a new presence approaching.
My bond, regal and proud, her chin held high, smiled with a joy deep as the sea, our ntal link finally lighting after so much ti apart. In her hands was a pillow with two simple, golden rings, radiating spellwork that ensured they would never tarnish. She drifted up to us, her dark horns glinting in the light, wheat-blonde hair nearly a tapestry of golden thread, and she let her voice flow.
"Hello, Arthur, Tessia," she said quietly, giving a wink. "You two need to wait just a little bit longer. Give just a minute or so, please, and you've got everything."
Tess let out an exasperated breath, rolling her eyes. "I've waited for years, Sylv," she returned, squeezing my hand. "I can wait another minute or two. At least I think I can."
Sylv's smile softened slightly, and in her eyes, I saw all that she held for , and all she held for the world. "Arthur," she said quietly, "can you rember sothing for ?"
My brows furrowed slightly, my heartrate slowing for a bit. "What is it, Sylv?"
"You've not just made a wonderful life," she said, laying a hand on my shoulder. Sothing in her eyes seed to broaden, a knowledge I had not seen there before lying beneath every syllable. "You've made a wonderful world. In ways you do not know."
I opened my mouth to reply, caught off guard, but my bond turned away with a swish of her dress, staring out at the crowd.
"Friends!" she called, gazing out across the crowd, "today we are here to bear witness to sothing special. Marriage is always special, mind you. But this union? There have been none like it before, and I wonder if there will be any like it again."
Sylvie's amber eyes coasted about the crowd, taking in every face, committing them to mory. All stared back, held in a trance by the leader of all the asura left living.
"Years ago, this world was a place of strife, of disunity, of war. Within Epheotus, within Alacrya, within Dicathen? Few could turn away from what had been done to keep the world divided. But my bond, Arthur Leywin, and the princess of Elshire, Tessia Eralith? They began sothing new."
Tess squeezed my hand, leaning against my shoulder.
"I am an asura, friends. Mine is the heritage of Kezess Indrath, great destroyer. He who ended a hundred civilizations, and whose ancestors brought despair to a thousand before. But in Elshire, where the Eralith family raised a human boy as their own son, I learned sothing deeper than blood defined . As I watched man and elf grow in the mists, as I watched them seek adventures, and even as I was brought to Epheotus to bring my power to bear, I learned sothing more."
A few of the phoenixes began to rise, their mana pulsing in union. Then more signatures: Taci Thyestes, Wren Kain, Seris Vritra, Toren Daen, as my bond's speech continued. Her voice grew louder, serene and calm despite its volu.
"In the midst of this chaos, a man and and elf t as children. And do you know what they showed us all, so many years ago in a distant forest? When we thought that there could only be war, only be separation, only be despair? They showed us that what differences we have, what distinctions there are in sharper ears and in culture and in power? They can be bridged by sothing more. Sothing deeper. Understanding."
Sylvie turned back to us, the rings held before her. "Beneath every person, there's sothing we all need. For all that divides and casts us apart, we are unified in that single, primordial need, deeper than mana, deeper than aether, deeper than destiny itself. In Arthur Leywin and Tessia Eralith, we find the fire that cracked the future in two, and drew its gaze to the spirit we all bear. Here we have found two that loved each other, sothing not even Fate could deny."
My bond stepped forward, holding the rings. With hands surprisingly steady, Tess and I each took one, palming them in our hands.
"Arthur Leywin, do you vow to take this woman as your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, by your power and heart?"
"I do," I said quietly, slipping a ring onto Tess' finger.
"Tessia Eralith," Sylv continued with a smile, turning to the woman I loved, "do you vow to take this man as your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, by your power and heart?"
When Tess slid the ring over my finger, sothing inside clicked into place, sothing I did not know was disjointed finally becoming whole. "I do."
I did not hear Sylv say the next words, but it didn't matter. Tess rose onto her toes, eting in a kiss: and for all the ways I had been bound to another, by soul to Sylv and by blade to Regis, I found another that went just as deep.
Regis had laid a crown upon my head long ago, giving a right to power over my own destiny. But now, I found that this ring on my finger was the crown on my life.
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