Author's Games: History

Task 9, the Finals: ariel_paiement's Entry

"Should we send her back? Whit do ye think?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a long moment, watching the woman pass back and forth through the aisles in her section of the exhibits. "We can't. Not like this. She'll only end up dead or worse."

Lucia burrowed closer to him. "True enough. So, where do ye think the others will go?"

"No clue. Perhaps they'll stay here and help us get the doors open for the public again?"

"An' tell whit history, Aetius?" She waved a hand to draw his attention to the museum below. "Ye cannae expect people to believe this is true anymore. 'Tis no their reality."

"Well, we'll advertise it as some new alternate reality museum. How things could've turned out if they'd been different. People love that kind of thing nowadays. I've been reading up on the trends." Aetius drew her into his arms. "Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out. For now, focus your attention on planning your wedding. And I'll worry about getting a druid on board for it."

She squeezed him close to her. "Yer an angel, I swear it." Then she released him and tripped lightly down the stairs.

Aetius watched her go with a small smile on his lips. I'm lucky to call a woman like her my own.

***

He caught his first sight of her as she rounded the copse of trees to the East and entered the clearing. She splashed through the trickling stream, her blue wedding gown growing a darker shade of blue as the water caressed its linen hem. The tinkling of bells filled the clearing as her easy gait jostled the belt of bells slung low around her waist. A garland of daisies and lavender rested on her shining blond curls, and the sun lit her hair until it shone like molten gold. He drank in her appearance, pausing to frown at a tear in the gown's hem. How did that get there? I hope she won't be too upset when she sees it.

She lifted her gaze to his, and a smile wreathed her face. A delicate blush spread over her pale cheeks as she crossed the clearing and headed to him. He stood beside the stone altar, staring at her and trying to quell the pounding of his heart. For a moment, he glanced back at the altar and the druids, looking for some way to keep himself calm. The altar bore a silver quiach—as Lucia had named it—and a small silver dagger alongside a bowl of water, a feather, salt, and three candles.

The druid stood behind them in his white robes, hands crossed before him. On either side of him, his fellow druids waited with a vessel of sand and a leafy garland. Aetius wasn't sure what either of them would be used for, but it didn't matter. His lovely bride was all that could hold his attention, and his gaze wandered back to her. His palms slick with sweat, he waited, praying this wouldn't be some cruel dream that he would wake from. No. It's real. Out of all the bad things that have happened, this is the one good thing. It's real.

Lucia walked past the sparse group of people left from the museum, who had been persuaded to come along as witnesses to the wedding. She lifted her chin as she reached him and came to a stop before him. The druid cleared his throat, stroking a wild white beard with a toothy grin. He said something to the younger man beside him, but Aetius didn't catch it because his focus was mostly on Lucia.

The young man with the clay container of sand walked forward and began pouring out the sand in a circle around the two of them. Aetius eyed him with a frown then turned his gaze to his bride. Her lips quirked up in a smile, and she shrugged. "Ancient tradition. Symbolizes our becomin' one."

"I see."

The druid who was conducting the ceremony droned something in Gaelic. Aetius tapped the earpiece hidden in his ear, turning it on so he could understand what was being said. The man turned to the East, the direction Lucia had come, and began the consecration. "I call to the East. Raise my arms, hear my voice, that your winds will forever blow through us." He turned South. "I call to the South. Raise my arms, hear my voice, that your fires will forever burn in us." Then West. "I call to the West. Raise my arms, hear my voice, that your waters will forever flow through us." Finally, to the North. "I call to the North. Raise my arms, hear my voice, that your earth will forever ground for us. May the four corners smile their blessings upon this coming union."