Earthrumbler

Chapter One: The Wedding

“Jenny!” Though scarcely more than a whisper, Dill’s voice wafted into my ears, filling me with dread. “Jenny!” Urgency was clear in his tone.

I turned my head toward him, careful not to face my back toward the ceremony, the ultimate disrespect at a Caligerian wedding. My eyes darted to my father, who met my gaze with a sharp expression, his attention away from the flame in his hands. A blush rose in my cheeks as I waved Dill over.

He waddled through the crowd, murmuring apologies, and landing on the lap of Professor Lester’s portly aunt of almost ninety years. After pecking her cheek, he slumped in the seat next to me. His hand grazed my jaw and tilted my head toward his. “Here I am?” In response to my scowl, he slowly formed a smile. The dimples on his cheeks protruded. “I am not so late, am I?”

“Oh, no. They’re only lighting their candle already.” I rolled my eyes and focused on the ceremony. In all truth, the clouds stole most of my attention before Dill arrived.

From a soft cotton, they writhed, creating charcoal wisps, more like smoke than actual clouds. Those that remained white became tendrils, symmetrical in pattern, five strands jutting out from the charcoal wisps. My concern initially laid in the threat of rain, typical of May, until a crescent shape smoothed near the top of the formation.

My stomach dropped, a tight clenching all too familiar. I whispered, barely more than a breath, “Sleepwalker.” I studied Papa once more; Professor Lester, woven into the white lace dress, was his sole focus. I turned my head back once more, locking eyes with Professor Jerref.

With a gentle wave, he quelled the sweat prickling my palms, the knot curling my stomach. But his stare unnerved me; the deep-set wrinkles darkened his face to a grim state so unlike the playful smirk he usually wore. One thin finger guided me back to the present, to the lighting of their candle, the most sacred part of the ceremony.

Papa wrapped his hand over the Professor’s, and eased the cobalt blaze toward the red candle, striped with white. Once it caught, the fire brightened, a soft scarlet, a delicate compliment to its resting place. “Love, blinding, perilous, a flame for few.” His rumble of a voice struggled to quiet during the oath.

“A candle, melting away, for life anew.” Professor Lester said, tilting the graceful knot in her hair upward with the bow of her head.

The crowd completed the pledge, “To love and light, a guide in the world’s darkness. May we all be so lucky.”

With that, my father grazed her neck with one hand and held her chin with the other. Before he could break her gaze, she kissed him first, as only Professor Lester would. After they disentangled, Papa raised an eyebrow to everyone still seated. “You are all aware of the pig roast inside, yes?” As the crowd stood and turned away, he stole another kiss. “You have my whole heart, Mary.”

Before she replied, soft familiar lips brushed my cheek. “I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” Dill brushed his hair back, a vain attempt to smooth the light brown mop he obviously hadn’t brushed. His tie was tangled about his collar, which stood lopsided as his shirt buttons were mismatched. His only efforts seemed to be the discs of glass in his eyes, the contact lenses he vowed never to wear again, as well as his freshly shaven face.

“No. As you’ve clearly scrambled to be on time, I suppose I cannot stay angry with you.” I curved the edge of a smile toward him. “But you’re certain that you have to leave right after the festivities?” With his nod, my lips tilted down once more.

“As it is, I believe I had enough festivities for all of the guests last night.” Pressing two fingers to his temples, he massaged the alcohol out of his system from the previous night. “Perhaps, I drank a bit too much.”