[Halls of Bellinos] The Eternal Band

[Pig Boy]

12th of Ymiden 721




The scene was set in the Immortal Domain of Bellinos. Invitations had been sent across the world to select followers of Vri. Of course, it was to be expected that some of them may not be able to attend, for whatever reason, whether that involved commitments to other Immortals or other prior engagements, or incapacitation and unavailability. Yet the invitations were sent out to all Bellinos regardless, they would receive the invitations while they dreamt. Each invitation was personalized to the one it was sent to.

Tristan would find himself walking through a beautiful garden, speaking with an old departed friend from Rynmere, who would then relate the invitation to him. They told Tristan that he would be asked to officiate the wedding personally, by Vri.

Faith would receive a more direct invitation, from Anaza, who requested she attend her as the maid of honor in her wedding. She also asked if Faith would do her the honor of stitching her wedding gown and veil.

Eliza Soule was visited by Ymiden, who told her of the great reunion of Vri and Anaza, and that Vri had asked for her personally to attend. They asked if she would do a portrait of the married pair, to stand forever in the Halls of Bellinos. And also if she would lend her musical expertise.

Hart would experience the invitation in a pastoral field, that was unnaturally warm and comfortable despite being covered in snow. The beach and ocean beyond beckoned to him, and his sloop stood on the shores of that beach, ready to be boarded. He received his invitation from Daia, who contacted him through the lion pendant.

Sephira Blackwood received an invitation too, wherever she happened to be. The invitation, similar to Tristan, was from the hand of someone dearly departed. She was standing in the Elements Hall when she received it.

Balthazar would himself back in Yaralon, and find a great stone plinth- a foundation that rose several feet into the air - carved on the wall of Yaralon. On it his own saga was recorded. Warts and all, the Yari left nothing to the imagination, and celebrated every part of his story.

Each of the invitees were given notice in their dreams, and allowed to bring an extra person with them. The wedding would be held in the hallowed Halls of Bellinos.

[Pig Boy]

!	Message from: Pig Boy
	Please post the dream described in as much detail as you wish. When I'm ready, I'll transport anyone joining to Bellinos. Do NOT have your character materialize on Bellinos spontaneously. I will bring them there. If your dream involves an Immortal, do not play them. I will moderate their actions/interactions.

[Tristan Venora]

Tristan was walking through a beautiful garden that reminded him of his grandmother's garden in Sabaissant - a garden that he had not seen since the plague, but that he would always remember with the utmost clarity due to one of the abilities that Vri's blessing afforded him. Judging by the endless, clear blue sky above him, and the warm sunlight, it was early summer, although the seasons did not always follow the same rules that they followed in the waking world.

The young duke who was dressed in a royal blue robe in the style of Melrath was walking along a cobblestone path, past flowerbeds and rose bushes that exuded a sweet and gentle smell. He occasionally stopped in order to admire them - and the birds that sang in the trees a bit further away - before he moved on.

It was quiet and peaceful, and he was happy and at ease. That did not even change when he heard a voice from his left, a voice that he had not heard since the civil war a couple of arcs earlier. "It's nice here, isn't it?" the man that the voice belonged to asked. "It reminds me of the way that the world used to be and that it will be again sometime."

"Do you remember how we played hide and seek in your grandmother's garden?" he wanted to know. "She always chided us when she found out, but after a while, she asked her servants to serve us cake."

Tristan turned to look at the other man, smiling. Richard looked just like he remembered him; a man of but twenty-one arcs of age, with pale, freckled skin, wild brown locks, lively brown eyes and a huge smile. He looked exactly like he had when he had last seen him - before the war had claimed his life, like it had claimed the lives of so many others.

"It was great. We should do that again sometime, eat cake, talk and have fun", Tristan remarked. He did not question how it was possible that Richard who was dead was walking next to him now; in this dream - although he did not know that it was a dream - it made perfect sense.

And it also made perfect sense to invite a dead man for cake.

"I'd like that, but for now I have a letter to deliver", Richard told him, grinning, before the expression on his face abruptly grew more serious. A moment later, he handed him an ivory-colored envelope with a black seal. Tristan broke it, an expression on his face that was in equal amounts curious and confused. A moment later, when he removed the single piece of paper from the envelope, his eyes widened. For a moment, the young man looked absolutely shocked, and then a smile slowly spread across his entire face.

He couldn't believe that he was offered such a great honor.

"Vri has invited me to his wedding to his champion Anaza", he said, turning to his dead friend. "He wants me to officiate it! Me!"

"Indeed", Richard confirmed, sounding slightly amused, and inclined his head. "Will you accept the invitation?"

"Of course!" Tristan replied. "Of course, I will accept the invitation. Please, please let Vri know that I'm honored - and that I will bring Ayla with me."

His daughter, Ayla, was a Mortalborn of Syroa - Vri's sister. There was no one that he rather wanted to bring; and besides, it made sense for as many family members as possible to be united on that wonderful trial. Vri should be surrounded by his loved ones, his friends and his Blessed when he married Anaza.

"I will let him know", Tristan's dead friend promised. He had died before Ayla had been born, but he did not ask Tristan who she was. Maybe, the duke thought, he knew.

[Eliza Soule]

When the invitation arrived, Eliza had been dreaming of Poppy. Just as she had, hundreds, if not thousands of times during the past two centuries. Before he'd passed on, some might would have called him Grandfather. Her grandfather. Others would have addressed him as Malcolm Scott, as that was his given name. But to Eliza, the daughter of Ymiden, he'd always been Poppy. And to him, she was his little Ellie.

Theirs had been an arrangement that very few mortals could comprehend. As a small child, she'd witnessed him come into the world as a newborn babe. She'd helped to take care of him then. Once he'd grown into adulthood and her care had been passed down to him, the roles were reversed, and he'd grown older still. She'd remained small, a tiny girl with a very old soul, while he grew old and gray. And then at the end, she'd witnessed him pass out of the world again, as all mortals did, and the loss was agonizing. So much so that she'd never allowed herself that level of deep attachment again to another human or other mortal.

The dream was similar to countless ones before it. Ellie walked with Poppy, her small hand swallowed up by his large and weathered one, across the windswept slopes, while the half ruined ancient keep that they lived in together, loomed large high upon a distant rise. She'd pulled her hand from his grasp and scampered ahead in pursuit of a hare. But this time, different than all of the dreams before, when Eliza stopped and turned back, expecting to hear Poppy's booming, amused laughter following her on the wind; instead; Poppy had been carried away like smoke in the wind, and her Immortal Father had stood in his place.

Ymiden. An absentee father if there'd ever been one. Over the course of nearly two and a half centuries, he'd only acknowledged her twice. Briefly. And this was the second of those. She'd forgiven him for that eventually. But still, would it have killed him to at least send a birth trial card, just once in a while? Nonetheless, the interaction was a brief one, just as the last one had been, and when she awoke, Eliza might be slow to remember any details of any conversation they'd had. Or at least, those of a more personal nature.

What she did remember quite clearly, was the message he'd brought to her in a dream. An invitation to the wedding celebration of Vri and Anaza; and a personal request by Vri himself? Eliza couldn't have been more flattered or honored by the request. But naturally the prospect gave her a very big case of the jitters. A portrait that she painted herself would hang for an eternity in the Halls of Bellinos? She'd dreamed of course that some trial, she might see some of her work hanging on the walls of some of Idalos' most renowned galleries. This however was a completely different level of expectation. And also to sing for them? "Oh, Immortals," she said aloud to herself, finally remembering to breathe again.

Her tiny, other-worldly primate companion Eberhardt, didn't need to ask if she'd be attending. Of course she would. When Eberhardt then asked excitedly if she could be Eliza's plus one, Eliza had grinned and shrugged her delicate shoulders. "If I tried to tell you no, I'd probably find you stowed away in my handbag or the hood of my cloak anyway." It wasn't exactly a yes, but she knew all too well that her little companion would come and go as she pleased, and there was no telling her different. Besides, there was no one else to ask.

But before the appointed time, there was plenty to do and prepare for. She needed to choose just the right dress, of course. She needed to consider a song she might sing for the happy couple, and she'd need to prepare a sketchpad and drawing supplies that would fit neatly inside of her handbag. Eliza wouldn't dream of asking the couple to sit for a portrait during the celebration. Instead, she'd record her interactions and observations in a series of sketches while not being intrusive. Afterwards, once she was returned to her little home and gallery, the artist would create a portrait for Vri and Anaza that they'd be proud to hang on in the halls of Bellinos.

[Faith Augustin]

Faith had been delighted to see the Champion of Vri who also happened to be Vri's love. She was fond of Anaza, and it was good to meet her again under better circumstances than the funeral of her children. When Anaza asked if Faith would make her wedding dress and veil, it was her genuine delight. When asked if she would be Anaza's maid of honour, though? Faith's face lit in a beaming smile. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to accept, and how honoured I am that you asked," she said, her hand reaching out and gently squeezing Anaza's arm.

Then followed a flurry of activity from Faith. The dress would need to be perfect- the kind of thing which would exactly live up to Anaza's expectation. So, she spoke with her, asked her about what she wanted and how she wanted to look. Faith then did her best to not simply match that but to make it a dress which exceeded her expectations. Anaza liked things to be form-fitting, so the bodice was tight and accentuated her natural figure. She liked sparkle, but not sequins or anything too gauche - so Faith painstakingly sewed the fabric with tiny and subtle accents of silver thread. It caught the light in whispers, not shouts, and it was exactly what Faith had intended. The fabric itself was a sheer silk with small areas of embroidered flowers - chosen by Anaza. The veil was made from fine crocheted lace and had the same embroidery as the dress itself. The skirt of the dress was long and flowing and it was here that Faith had utilised her ability to make items which changed colour. A subtle effect, because that was what Anaza wanted, she'd made it so that as she walked the dress shimmered and tiny areas of embroidery shifted colour to almost glow white and then shift slowly to silver.

When she was done, Faith made sure that it fit, perfectly, that was important and so two fittings at least were needed and she very happily gave the time needed to it. She was beyond happy for Vri and Anaza - and of course, that was for many reasons. As an Exalted of Vri she served him to the very best of her abilities; she had brought Anaza back to see the funeral of their children and Faith had suggested to Vri that he make Anaza his champion. It was important to Faith that she did this well for Vri, and for Anaza herself.

There was a lot to do, but Faith was happy to do it. Then, of course, she had to think about her own dress and, as maid of honour, she wore something with a similar cut and form to Anaza - less so, of course - and in the colour Anaza chose.

And, finally, she was ready.

"Are you ready, darling girl?"

Rose, Faith's daughter, looked at her mother with serious eyes. "Yes, Mama," she said and Faith held out her hand. "You look beautiful, you know." She looked down at Rose and smiled. "Inside and out." Rose frowned, then narrowed her eyes and looked at Faith. "How do you know how I look inside?"

"I'm a doctor," she said. "It's my job to know how people look inside." Rose considered this and nodded. There was no arguing it. "But also, I can see you in a way no one else can. And that is because I'm your mother." Rose sighed and considered it. "PB says you're a big wussie about me."

Faith chuckled. "PB is right. Now, then, lets get going, yes?" Rose nodded, took her mother's hand and the pair of them made their way to where they had to be.

[Balthazar Black]

12 Ymiden 721

Balthazar was no stranger to strange dreams but he had never been invited to a wedding through one, until the twelfth of Ymiden. He didn't dream of Yaralon often anymore. His dreams were varied and he'd been so many places that they began to blend together, but he recognized that he was in Yaralon on that night. Why? He stood outside one of the gates, Spear Gate, if he remembered in correctly. He was alone. He turned to his left and he turned to his right but there was no one else with him. When he turned again there was a massive stone plinth before him that stretched up into a sky a few feet taller than him. It was intricately engraved with imagery that Balthazar didn't recognize at first. His eyes trailed from the top of the plinth to the bottom. At the top it depicted a baby in the arms of a man with a pitchfork, walking away from what seemed like dead bodies. His parents. His real parents.

After that it was not hard to figure out what the images were depicting, even if he did not yet realize he was dreaming. His life, all of it. The failures stood out more to him than the successes but not because they were carved any deeper into the stone. He looked from the top to the bottom, seeing the images and remembering the events depicted inside one by one. It seemed like there couldn't possibly have been enough space on the stone for the totality of his life, but the more he looked at it, the more detail he saw. Was it changing as he remembered the events? No. It was just very well made. Smaller images that seemed irrelevant triggered memories when seen that clarified their purpose to Balthazar.

His hand reached out passively to feel the texture of the stone as he examined it. Everything was there. From his first crime to the first arrest he made. From his birth to the moment he was standing there looking at the stone. His first time meeting Vri, his death and resurrection, Isabella, Xanax, Quacia, Melrath, Viden, Yaralon, Rharne, Scalvoris, Elisabeth, every life he'd taken and saved was represented in some way... but he already had the memories. He held them clearly without the need to see them carved out. He took a breath and tapped against the stone gently with his knuckles before taking a step back to examine the plinth as a whole. It was him and it was not. It was what he did, not what he meant to do. He did not remember the plinth being in Yaralon when he was there. It did not belong. His brow furrowed. How did he get to Yaralon? Where was he before?

Balthazar turned to find someone he could ask for answers but the city was empty, as if it had been purged. He turned back to the plinth and when he did there was a black envelope on the floor. Had it been there before? It must have been. Envelopes did not simply appear. Balthazar knelt down and picked it up, slowly peeling it open and revealing the letter inside. The contents of the letter cleared Balthazar's mind of his questions and filled it with new ones. Vri was getting married? Balthazar reread the invitation a few times while mulling over the new information in his head. Vri was getting married. Married. Marriage. Balthazar looked up from the letter at the stone plinth and then back down to the letter. The idea of an Immortal being married seemed odd and yet perfectly fitting for Vri. Balthazar set the letter back into the envelope and as he did, he awoke in his bed beside Elisabeth. He nudged her with his elbow to wake her up. He rolled out of the bed and got up to get clean and dressed. He had some nice clothing from Rharne, the only thing suitable for the event really, so he'd wear that, but he had to get ready first.

"Would you like to come to a wedding with me?"

[Elisabeth Black]

Dreams and Weddings....

Elisabeth had been dreaming peacefully of…well…nevermind that… when Balthazar nudged her. It was a slow process, slipping from the dreamworld to lucid. He rarely woke her so when the realization dawned on her that he was nudging her, cerulean eyes flickered open with a bit of a start.

It was then that he spoke of going to a wedding. Her mind, perhaps not entirely awake yet, whirled with half-formed ideas about who the beneath was getting married. Most couples in Haven were already married, although there were a few of the young adults that were getting close to the age. It had to be someone in Haven, right?

Rolling over, she gave him a curious smile. It didn’t really matter whose wedding he was speaking of – her answer would be the same.

***

“Whose wedding?”

Upon being informed of exactly who’s ceremony they were attending and where they were going, Elisabeth arched her eyebrow gently.

Vri. The Immortal whose mark Balthazar wore and whom Elisabeth herself had never met. Well, the last part wasn’t entirely odd. She hadn’t met that many Immortals. She had prayed to him once though, although ‘prayed’ was a loose term in reflection. She had talked to him, telling him about her relationship with Balthazar and asking him to protect him. Vri had done that, a few times over.

Immortal's Tongue, a trial that she still had a hard time getting out of her mind, loomed large in those considerations. She had a thank-you to give, and it seemed as though she would be given the chance to do so personally.

Rising, she had padded over to where he was and made him stop for one minute, lifting up on her toes and gently kissing him. “I would be happy to go anywhere with you…”

She took her time dressing that day. It wasn’t every trial that one was attending an Immortal’s wedding. Beyond that, it had been a while since there had been a need for her to look extra nice, so Elisabeth wanted to make sure to do it right. Adjusting her hair and putting the final touches on her ensemble, she pronounced herself ready.

Their house was quiet. A certain sort of peaceful quiet filled her, now that it was just the two of them again. Well, Fuego....and Storm too. But still, it was nice just to be them again.

[Hart]

12th Ymiden, 721

Hart was standing in a field of wildflowers. For a moment he didn't know how he had gotten to the field. He knew this field; he knew the wildflowers, he knew the trees to the one side, and he knew the small strip of white beach to the other.

He was quiet a moment, looking at the field. Then a small voice spoke, and Hart knew how he had gotten here.

"Where are we?" Wren asked.

They were in the dreaming world and Hart held out his hand to the small boy. Wren took his hand, stepping up beside him, and Hart answered, "It's a field I know of, a little bit north of Ne'haer." Daia had spoken to him through the lion locket. Hart didn't remember the details very well, it was like a dream to him, but he and Wren were to attend a wedding.

It was Vri's wedding.

Wren looked at the field. "It's a memory," he said, and Hart said, "Yes, it is. Or rather, it's something like a memory. I remember this field; though when I was here, there was someone here with me, someone I loved."

"Someone you loved?" Wren asked, and Hart said, "Yes. This was where..."

"Where we promised," he said after a moment, and Wren asked, "Promised?" The small boy was quiet, his face thoughtful. Then he said, "You and your promised one?"

"Yes," Hart said, and he and Wren walked down the incline on the side of the field where the tall grass and the wildflowers grew sparse, down onto the sandy white beach. "You see that?" Hart asked, and Wren looked and said, "It's the Jovy Akor."

The ship was perfect in the dreaming world, in this something like a memory. It waited for them out on the gentle waves, though the ship itself hadn't been built when Hart and his promised one had been here. But then, it hadn't been snowing when they'd been here, either; it had been the height of summer.

Wren asked, "Is this how we'll get to the wedding?" and Hart said, "I think it is."

The moment they were on the ship, the strip of white beach and the trees and the wildflowers were no longer there. The snow fell lightly into the gentle waves, and all was perfectly quiet. "Where are we now?" Wren asked, and Hart said, "It's a different memory, I think." Though, he didn't know which. "Or, rather..."

"Something like it," Wren said for him.

They were dressed for the wedding; Hart wearing his one set of fine clothes, though he wasn't wearing the embroidered cloak. Rather, Wren was wearing the cloak. Wren was also wearing a set of fine clothes that Hart had gotten just for this. Wren's clothes were not all that different than Hart's, though there were some differences in fit and color.

Hart didn't remember the details very well, but he knew they'd had a bit of time to get the clothes and get them fitted. He knew that Wren was getting taller, because they'd needed to alter the fit of the clothes.

"This is it?" Wren asked, looking thoughtfully at the ship's wheel. "This is how we'll get there?"

"I think it is," Hart said. The small boy's hand was in his, and for a moment Hart thought he looked worried. "Don't worry," Hart said to him, "I'll hold on tight."

Hart touched the wheel lightly, and held tightly to Wren's small hand.

Notes: Really sorry for the delay.

[Pig Boy]

As the one who'd be officiating the wedding of Vri and Anaza, Tristan was the first to be called by Vri, and the first to be brought before the divine couple. Tristan was brought into the innermost sanctum of Bellinos. There were grayscale sculptures and trees and other scenic features, which when Tristan turned his eye toward them, lit up in colors that brought anyone looking at them back to long gone memories, usually skewing toward the bittersweet and somber memories than the saccharine.

There in the midst of the garden of Pomegrantate trees and sculptures of the hallowed bellinos of ages past, which seemed to follow all who approached with their eyes, Tristan found Anaza beside Vri. Anaza was the first to greet Tristan. "Hello, My Lord Duke. It's an honor to finally make your acquaintance." She reached forward, to put her hands on his shoulders, and smiled at him, as she guided him toward Vri's side.

She left him with Vri then, for she had an appointment with another of the invitees.

As she exited, Vri turned his sorrowful gaze to Tristan, and sighed not for his own pain, but whatever confusion might've befallen Tristan the past arc and a half. He reached forward, and grasped Tristna by the shoulder. "Worry not for Ashling, Duke Venora. Love is not an accident or a mistake one makes. But let's put that behind us, and take comfort in what has brought us comfort." Vri turned to look at Ayla, who he was delighted to see Tristan chose as his guest. Vri knelt, and beckoned her forward. "How is my favorite niece?" He asked.



Eliza and Faith arrived at around the same point, near the gallery where they'd be holding the wedding soon. There, everything needed for the festivities was there. Every part of Bellinos seemed to call back to a time that the viewer knew. As if teasing the individual with the familiarity of it all. A cherished spot from one's youth. These remembered geometries often took on a form that translated from one person to another, without taking an entirely alien form. So it was not an illusion. The surroundings emulated the sensation of being in that place, rather than providing an exact replica.

There was a stage, an aisle, with seating for as many people as would be coming. But it'd be a small ceremony. The couple were sentimental and deeply emotional people, but they weren't obsessed with grand gestures when it came to their most personal moments. Vri perhaps had his moments in the past, certain hiccups or warts in his behavior that had bedeviled him of the last few arcs, but having Anaza restored to him had tempered that.

"Hello Faith, so wonderful to see you again." Anaza nodded and smiled to Faith, and then dipped down to look Rose in the eyes. "Such a pretty little girl, you are. Have you ever been to a wedding dear? Would you like to be a flower girl?" Anaza smiled at rose, and dabbed her on the nose playfully.

Whether Rose answered or not, Anaza would smile, and turn her gaze upward to Eliza. "I realize you have your hands and probably your mind full of concern for the task we've asked you to do. Don't worry for now, the portrait, if you still wish to make it, will be taken sometime after our union. For now, perhaps you can come with Faith and I? I wouldn't mind having an extra set of eyes to help with the dress fitting."

So saying, she led the way toward the bridal chambers, which was a ways to the west, through a corridor. Whether Eliza wished to follow or not was entirely up to her, otherwise, she'd be joined by Balthazar and Elisabeth in the hall they occupied.



Hart arrived on his sloop, the wind whipping at his and Wren's face as they sailed down a calming riverway, and into a lagoon of sorts. Hart might've been reminded almost of Ne'haer, the canals and waterways that led into various parts of the city from the Harbor.

Shortly, however, they found their way into the scene just shy of where Tristan and Vri were conversing. The sloop docked very gently upon the banks of that scene, and allowed Hart and Wren to descend, if they would, to greet Tristan and Vri.

If Hart approached, and whether he did or not, Vri would beckon him over, "Hello Hart! Say hello to Tristan and his daughter. We'll be entering into the main Hall soon, but try to relax."



Balthazar and Elisabeth entered into the main Hall, whisked as they were as soon as the decision was made to attend by both of them. They found comfortable seating all around the aisle, where they might take a place, any place they desired.

There was food and refreshment on offer, while they waited for the various parties to enter the main hall. Many dishes they'd recognize from various points in their life.

One of the adored Bellinos that attended the Hall this evening were there to attend to their needs, should they require him. "Hello, I'm Jaim. If there's anything you two need, don't hesitate to ask. But perhaps you'd like to sample our offerings of food and drink?"

Balthazar and Elisabeth (Maybe Eliza)

Can do: Have some food and refreshment. Feel free to get creative with what it is.
Must do: IF you sample the food, one of the ingredients will definitely be pomegranate. Feel free to be creative with how the pomegranate was included. Jam, juice, whole pomegranates, etc..

Hart and Tristan

Can do: Talk to Vri and each other for a while. Make a request of Vri.
Must Do: If you make a request of Vri, it must pertain to one of his domains.

Faith and possibly Eliza if she chooses to go with Anaza

Can do: Describe Anaza and her clothing that Faith helps her into.
Must do: Offer a favor to Anaza. It can be literally anything, including what you're doing for her right now.

[Tristan Venora]

Tristan had taken his time getting dressed for the wedding; it wasn’t just a wedding, it was the wedding of an Immortal, a monumental occurrence. Being asked to officiate it was an immense honor. For that reason, the young man wore his finest deep blue robe made of silk, in the style of Melrath, that was embroidered with thread of black and silver, with a broad sash of midnight black that matched his black nails, the mark of Vri. He had also made sure that there was not even a hint of an alchemical smell on him – a common risk when you made a living brewing potions. Instead, he smelled faintly of a pleasant floral perfume.

Ayla whose hand he held as they were brought into the innermost sanctum of Bellinos wore a dress in the same color and had a matching ribbon in her dark hair. Rather than being afraid, the little girl looked around with curiosity, just like her father. “This is your Uncle Vri’s home”, Tristan softly explained to Ayla who nodded and smiled at him.

A moment after he had spoken those words, the young duke’s eyes widened. The trees and sculptures which had been different shades of grey before suddenly lit up in colors. The sight was so unexpected and so beautiful that it nearly took his breath away.

With the colors came memories – of course, he was unable to ever forget anything again due to Vri’s Blessing – but the memories felt more alive and closer to the surface now. There was his little brother Teddy who had taken his own life. He remembered how they had played together when they had just been children. There was Granny Ebony who had been most irritated once when she had found out that his cousin Andraska and he had dressed up in her clothes and discovered her hidden stash of alcohol. There was Faith who he had not realized that he loved until it had been too late, and Ashling, always Ashling.

He closed his eyes for a moment before abruptly he pulled his gaze away from the trees (Had this been almost any other occasion, he would have wondered how trees like that could exist; as a gardener they were of particular interest to him.) and made his way towards Vri and his bride, momentarily glancing at the Pomegranate trees and the sculptures that almost seemed to follow them with their eyes, wondering who these men and women had been. Ayla who was still holding his hand looked around with pure and childlike fascination.

“Lady Anaza and Lord Vri, I thank you for inviting me to your wedding, and I would like to congratulate you from the bottom of my heart. The honor is mine”, Tristan spoke in his most polite tone of voice once he stood in front of the couple. He wanted to bow, deeply, deeper than he would have bowed to Cassander because Vri was more than just a king in his opinion and should be treated with the utmost respect, but Anaza put her hands on his shoulders before he could do so and guided him toward her groom’s side. Ayla had finally let go of his hand, but she stayed close to him, her eyes filled with wonder.

Vri looked so sorrowful when Anaza departed that Tristan had to resist the urge to put an arm around him and comfort him; in his opinion, nobody, not even the Immortal of Sadness, should be sad on his wedding day. “I will try to do that”, he assured the Immortal when he told him not to worry for Ashling, although it was hard. They had planned on getting married that cycle. They had even talked about moving to Fensalir. Ayla had gotten used to her. “I will try to put it behind me, and focus on the good things that are still in my life, such as her”, he remarked, gestured towards his daughter and looked at her lovingly.

“You probably don’t remember anymore, but you’ve met your uncle before, in Scalvoris”, he told the little Mortalborn. It had also been the trial that Vri had marked him.

Ayla looked at him a little questioningly when he said that. When Vri knelt down and beckoned her forward, she approached him and curtsied somewhat awkwardly though before she replied, “I’m fine. How are you, Uncle Vri? Do Aunt Anaza and you want to visit us one trial? I can show you my puppy, and we have a kitty as well”, she added in an excited tone of voice.

“We’ve unfortunately lost contact with most of my family. Ayla has never met her great-grandmother, and she is too young to remember her other relatives”, Tristan quietly explained Ayla’s excitement at meeting her uncle and her future aunt before he asked, aware of the fact that making such a request of an Immortal on his wedding day might be a bit questionable. “Do you know whether my beloved grandmother Ebony is alright? I haven’t seen her since the plague. I’d very much like to meet her again, and introduce Ayla to her”, he admitted in a wistful tone of voice.

Granny Ebony was probably pretty sad, he thought. There had been a terrible plague that had claimed the lives of at least half of Rynmere’s citizens. One of her grandsons had committed suicide, one of her grandsons had married the man who had thrown a door at the king, and done a few even more questionable things on top of it, and her granddaughter had married the man who had started the civil war and was dead as well now. He hoped that seeing Ayla would make her smile though.

Speaking of relatives … his eyes widened as a man that he hadn’t thought he would ever see again appeared, and then a smile slowly began to spread across his entire face. When Vri beckoned him to come over and say hello, he felt as if he were about to burst with joy. “Hart!” he greeted his brother and embraced him if the older man allowed him to do so. “It’s so good to see you again. I missed you. How are you? Ayla”, he said to his daughter. “This is your other uncle, Hart. He lived with us in Oakleigh for a while.”

“Who is this, by the way?” he asked as his gaze fell on the boy that was with Hart. He extended a hand for him to shake before he turned to his brother again. “Is this Wren?” he wanted to know. When he had been Eihr, his brother had mentioned taking care of a little boy that was like a son to him. If this was Wren, he realized, Ayla wouldn’t only see her uncles again that trial, she would also meet her cousin for the first time.

He was so happy about that!