Wedding

Old Eredan had insisted the wedding be held immediately, or rather, a week later, because that was how long he needed to gather all his family relations, important subjects, and whoever else he wanted to be there.
All these people were especially important, because they needed to be present for, and witness the power transfer to Marcus.

In this precious week of freedom, Marcus dedicated himself to training, and he was making good progress. He could now summon up to five small blades at once, and he had gotten a lot better at maneuvering them. He had settled on a similar approach as the boomerang blade, throwing them, and just telling Merheeth to keep them on a steady course through the air, and making them return to him.
However, he did not catch these blades. Their handles had grown too small for him to grasp, and he could not hold five blades at once, instead, they circled around him, until he sent them going once again.
“Don’t you think you should take this time to get to know your new bride,” Arthur asked, while he was aiding Marcus in his training. They weren’t sparring, but instead Arthur was helping him with target practice.
He still only had one bird, but that one bird was so fast that he proved plenty challenging for Marcus at the moment.
“There will be plenty of time for that,” Marcus replied, while directing two his fie blades through the air, the other three hadn’t returned yet, “But right now I have more pressing matters that require my attention.”
Arthur scoffed, “Like what? This muddy floor? Shouldn’t a secure and happy marriage take priority, Brother?” Arthur had finally relented on the “My liege” Crap, at least in private, but only after Marcus’ continuous insistence.
“If I valued my happiness, I would have chosen a different career path,” he said, not fully convinced that he didn’t value his happiness, or that he wouldn’t be happy, even if he had barely been able to look Naea in the eyes these past two days. She understood, he thought. If he had asked, she would probably have told him to do exactly what he had done, but that didn’t make him feel any better, and Arthur made no further point of it.
“A test for your heart,” the old bastard had said, and Marcus suspected that that wasn’t nearly his only motivation for arranging this union, this marriage, if he and it were successful, would guarantee Eredan a position as one of the most powerful men in Cloud for the rest of his life, and he didn’t even have to have faith in anyone. If Marcus proved to be a liar, or incompetent, the old man was in a perfect position to overthrow him.
“You’ll be alright.” She had said. Did that apply to just the meeting, or to the rest of his relationship with Eredan as well? How would she even know anyway?
No, he would be alright, all his visions had show him as king, and some even showed him as an old king, and the visions rarely strayed very far from reality.

They had switched to sparring now, Marcus had had enough time with the target practice for today, and was ready to test his skill. He was aware that Arthur might not be the best sparring partner, due to them knowing each others abilities and fighting style so well at this point.
However, little did Arthur know that Marcus had a trick up his sleeve this time, one that he would hide from his little brother for as long as he could.
Of course he had watched him practice, and helped him, but this, he had saved for a special moment.
Marcus had gotten better and better with his little blades, not only throwing them boomerang style, but also manipulating them mid air. In the beginning he only nudged them a little, something Arthur didn’t seem to notice, but as time went on, he got bolder, although still careful not to give the game away too soon, and then…
“Hay! What the hell?” Arthur exclaimed, as one of Marcus blades, dulled for training, collided with Artur's butt.
He peered at Marcus with a questioning gaze, but he just grinned at him. He would figure it out, he thought.
Arthur narrowed his eyes, but his expression let nothing loose. 
He knew, Marcus thought.

After his training, and after bathing, Marcus returned to his quarters, where he found Naea waiting for him. This wasn’t totally uncommon, as she often visited his tent, office, or whatever he had at the time, to give him advice, to discuss things, or for other matters which, of course, no one new about.
Still, he was surprised to see her. Despite knowing better, he had convinced himself that she might not want to see him anymore, and that she would avoid him, but there she was, stitching some part of her robe.
“Ahh…Hi…Naea,” He managed to mumble, which resulted in her glancing towards him, and raising her eyebrow, in her favorite judgmental way.
“What do you think of her?” She asked, her voice calm, and clear, as it always was, while continuing her stitching.
“Shes young,” he sighed, sitting down on one of his chairs.
“Shes old enough,” Naea shrugged, “According to all laws and customs.” 
Marcus nodded, thoughtfully, she was probably right, his father had gotten married at twenty, and that had been normal.
“Straighten your shoulders, you look like you’re her age.” She said without looking up. “You are a king now, Marc, you should carry yourself like one, even when you are with me.”
Marcus did as she said. Why was she acting so casual, like nothing had happened? Something had happened, right?
“Aren’t you jealous, or upset or something?” He asked, almost hesitantly. He was answered by another raised eyebrow, this one figuratively reaching her hairline.
No, he thought, she wasn’t the jealous type, or the type to succumb to love sickness. “This is how it had to be, Marc,” she said quietly, “You knew it, I knew it.”
Marcus nodded, feeling confidence re-enter his body. 
“So now what?” He asked, and this time, she looked up at him, not partially, but fully raising her head, lowering the robe she had been working on, and looking into his eyes. “Well, you aren’t married yet, Marc,” she said, a smile creeping onto her face, not one of the public ones, a real one, the sweetest and softest smile he had ever seen in his life, one that made her face appear a few decades younger, if that meant anything, and made her appear to be glowing.
“Anyway, I’m more concerned about that officer of his, I’m getting a strange energy from him.” She continued.
“Who? The big guy with the great-sword? He doesn’t look that special, besides being an outlander.”
“Perhaps,” she said, “We will see.”

“Look here bossman, this is the best I could do in a week, but its just a prototype, I can make a better one for you if I can get some more time.” Claith said, not hiding a look of pride.
It was the day before the wedding, and he had called Marcus to his hut, his hands still covered in clay and paint.
What he was now looking at, was a clay figurine, or statue, to be more accurate, because it was life-sized, and it very closely resembled Naea, and it was obvious that most of the effort had gone into the face and hair, as the rest, besides the hands, hadn’t even been painted.
“Is this finished? And why did you do her first?” he asked, puzzled. Claith looked at him, and rolled his eyes.
“Her robes of course,” he exclaimed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I just need one of those and it will pass, I’m telling you. She covers herself so vigorously in cloth. It makes my sculpting job a heck of lot easier, I can tell you that much.” He explained, and Marcus nodded. “Does it work?” He asked, thoughtfully, this could prove very useful.
“What do you mean, “does it work”?” Claith exclaimed, incredulously, “What do I look like, an amateur?” and the ambers in his headdress started to glow a deep yellow, as the statue started to come alive.
The fake Naea made a fabulous bow, did a spin on one leg, jumped, and did a back-flip, kicking over one of Claiths shelves of figurines.
“Fuck,” Claith muttered, “Bloody hell, I’ll have to work on that,” he said, as he cast another spell, and the figurines started cleaning up the mess.
“How about you start working on making her move like Naea, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her do a flip before.” Marcus said, trying not to laugh.
“Ehh,” Claith shrugged, “Thats easy, a good flip however, now that takes practice.” Marcus shook his head and decided to take the man’s word for it.
“Looks great Claith! I’m looking forward to see another me strutting around.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m busy, I’ll see you around.”  He said, waving his hand, before starting to frantically dig through a box full of Miscellaneous items.
Marcus decided he had seen enough, and left. 
That could prove useful, he thought, definitely very useful, it would be excellent to have a couple of disposable decoys in case they needed to avoid any future assassins, or who knew what they would come in handy for.

“We are gathered here today, to celebrate the union of two of Clouds greatest families, the Red Rivers, and the Cloud Central, the first children of Cloud Nation, may their union be one not only of our two houses, but of two souls, two hearts who shall now beat forever as one, and may their union prove fruitful, not only in the marital bed, but in this dangerous political landscape that we find ourselves in nowadays, as well.”
The old chief went on for another while, about the wonders of life, and how this change in alliance, and matrimony would shape the destinies of everyone present, if not the whole continent, for the better.
Marcus looked to his bride, she was very pretty. Her blond curls had been brought to appear as polished gold, and they were put up most elegantly.
Her earrings were the same intricate, and beautiful, sapphire earrings, which he could swear were glowing. She wore a fancy white dress with blue highlights, and the red rivers crest embroidered onto the chest. A golden rim, circling a white field, with a red river flowing though it.
The girl Squeezed his arm, tighter than she already was, as they stood on the small podium, that had been erected for the occasion.
Marcus was wearing his best suit, cut in the cloud central fashion, made from their colors, white for the snow, grey for the rocks, and black for the shadows of the mountains.
However, this suit had been meant for indoors endeavors, and Eredan, for some Emina forsaken reason, had insisted on performing the ceremony outside, which was easy for him to say, because he was sitting comfortably in his palanquin, wrapped in the thickest fur coat Marcus had ever seen, and a pile of thick blankets covering his legs.
“And thus, with the power invested in me by our beautiful couple, and Emina herself, I pronounce thee, Husband and Wife! Let the celebrations begin! To the river!” Eredan announced.
To the what? Marcus thought, he expected them to have to kiss or something, as it was done in the mountains, but when he had asked Eredan how exactly the wedding events would proceed, and what the events were, Eredan had assured him that it would all go according to red rivers traditions, with which Marcus really wasn’t familiar.
He had considered asking Naea, but he could already see the look of exasperation, and the raised eyebrow, so he had decided not to.
He and his bride were led a short distance, behind the town hall really, to where the river ran, it was a wide, grand river, completely frozen over, with a large hole beaten into the center.
As he approached, he could already feel the shivers on his spine, but he knew there was no escaping this. He looked to Eredan, who smiled broadly, and gave him a wink, then he looked to his bride, who just smiled, and squeezed his hand, and gestured for them to approach the hole.
“We are supposed to jump together,” she whispered to him, and he nodded.
The ice was freezing cold, and he could immediately feel his extremities go numb, followed by a sharp pain creeping into his chest. All of this didn’t seem to bother the girl, his wife, as she splattered around, and took a short lap around the edge of the hole, and then gestured him to come out with her, which she didn’t need to do twice.
Fortunately, they had been thoughtful enough to prepare a warm changing room for them, with warm, dry towels, and where changes of clothes had been selected for them.
The ones that had been layed out for him were warm and comfortable, even if they were made in the red rivers style, with the red rivers crest embroidered on the chest, as they seemingly liked to do a lot, but it didn’t bother him, because this meant that the time for the feast had arrived.
“They usually hold weddings in the summer,” the girl, his wife, said, “Makes the river part more pleasant, I like the cold water though, it relaxes me.”
She likes cold water? It relaxes her? Marcus thought, he would have to figure out if there were anymore of these unusual quirks he needed to know about, but whatever.
“It is meant to symbolize rebirth,” she added, “Just as babes enter the water of the womb, and emerge as humans, we enter the water of the river, and emerge as husband and wife.” She said, smiling, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
For the girl, his wife, they had prepared a thick, warm looking dress, which was white and red, with golden lacing, although it was more red than white. She kept the sapphires.
“Do you never take ice baths in the mountains?” She asked him, and he shook his head, “No, we prefer the hot springs, and the steam houses at the geysers, sometimes we use cold waters to increase the effects, but never ice.”
“Sounds nice,” she said, dreamily, “Here, if want hot water, we have to burn wood.”
He smiled at her, thinking of his home, “There is nothing like a nice hot bath in the cold air after a long day,” he said. Cloud central, the floating island, was largely flat, but there were some parts where hot water came to the surface through deep crevices in the earth, and the geysers were found throughout the mountains.
“That does sound nice,” She said, “Maybe you will show them to me one day?” She looked to him questioningly, and he nodded.
“I’m sure I will, when I take you there, its been a while for me now,” He said quietly, and it had been a while, several weeks on the road now, and no end n sights, no idea of when he would be home.
The girl walked over to him, “Worry not, Husband, you will see your home again sooner or later,” and she smiled at him.
“Thank you Gyslane,” he said, for the first time tasting her name in his tongue, he didn’t know what to make of her, he didn’t know what to think. He had seen her in his visions of course, but this woman who was now his wife was still a stranger to him, even if he could feel destiny tethering them together, for him it wasn’t enough, not yet.
“Call me Izzy,” she said, and gestured for them to go back to the party, where the feast would soon begin.
He couldn’t understand why she smiled at him so, she barely knew him, she knew him no better than he knew her, but still, she looked at him like no woman, save very few, had ever looked at him.
“Alright then, Izzy!” he said, and took her hand in his own. “Are you hungry, my wife?” he asked, and she nodded enthusiastically, almost skipping on their way to the chiefs hall, where the guests were waiting for them.