Penthos: The Guardian Sea

Chapter Thirty-three: The Beginning of the End

By the time Ari finished her tale, all of her siblings had wandered into the now crowded room to hear what she had done. She told them of the Realms she’d visited, and the people she’d met and befriended. She omitted the last year of her voyage—the part that contained the deceased Yveriet and the mad Prophet, and the visit with the Royal Family.

     All the while Jarissein remained still as a statue, and just as silent. He inserted a few details she had forgotten here and there, and kept his gaze firmly fixed on her.

     “So, you met many people? That’s why there has been so many gifts in your room, yes?” Anora asked. She had been away for only two years on her voyage, and had looked on with jealous and wondering eyes as Arielle spun her tale.

     “Mm-hmm. Most of them I sent for you and the others, and there are a few silks and things for Mother and Father.” She stood and took her place next to Jarissein.

     Serapheme laid a hand on her husband’s shoulder, and they traded gazes. They were planning something, Arielle knew, and it was only a matter of time before Serapheme put it into action.

     “So,” her mother said. “You’ve gone on your journey. The next task is?”

     Arielle put her hands to her face as her mother answered the rhetorical question for her. “That’s right, my dear daughter. It’s time for you to get married.”

Serapheme was sparing no expense with the wedding. She had already ordered ribbons of silver and driftwood and all sorts of pieces that Arielle couldn’t name. She looked on as the items made their way from the second ballroom where they had been stored to the beach where the ceremony would take place.

     Wedding ceremonies in her Realm were a mystical event that involved magic. Souls were bound, Fates were intertwined, and the Lightforms (usually in the shape of creatures) of the two people were made one. The bond could not be severed, so it was something many people had to think on for many years. Most people didn’t get married in the fashion of the Realm of Penthos because it was such a commitment, and used out-of-Realm vows.

     Arielle had elected to the way of the Light. Jarissein had agreed, but as she strolled through the room of insanely expensive objects, she began to wonder if it was a smart idea after all. Her mind wandered back to her conversation with the Prophet. If she was the Guardian of Light, no doubt someone was going to come looking for her, and she didn’t want to put Jarissein’s life in danger that way.

     She hugged herself. It was too late to turn back now, she thought, looking at the ballroom. Serapheme was going to go mad and her family penniless if they didn’t have a wedding. She turned and startled as she found LeReia standing a few feet away, silent as the grave. “How long have you been here?” she asked.

     LeReia smiled and crossed her arms. “Long enough for you to start talking to yourself.”

     She hadn’t realized she’d been doing that. “What was I saying?”

     “Why should I tell you?”

     Arielle strode toward her little sister and crouched. “LeReia, I’m begging you.” She put a hand to the girl’s cheek. “You’re too much like me for your own good, Little Sister.”

     LeReia purred, and Arielle chuckled. She finally answered her sister’s question. “You were talking about backing out of the wedding. Something about Tarhnia. Who’s Tarhnia?”

     Arielle stood, flicking her tail back and forth. “A woman I met.” It was truth enough. She didn’t have to tell her everything. “She made me think binding myself to someone would hurt them in the end.”