Path of Dragons 9 - Chapter 26 - The Wedding

Kurik was worried about his friend.

Elijah wasn’t just anxious.  He seemed like a bomb ready to explode.  It was there in his every twitchy movement, in the way he rambled on about nothing, and in the bags beneath his eyes.  The problem was that Kurik had no idea how to help him.  And for a dwarf used to solving problems, that was a hard rock to break.

However, one thing that wasn’t in question was that, of the entire group, Elijah stood out from everyone else.  Part of that was the high-grade suit he wore.  With its shimmering green embroidery to the subtle texture, it practically rippled with power.  It was probably just as protective as armor. 

But it went deeper than his attire.  Kurik had tried not to make a big deal out of the fact that Elijah had been dragged into a Primal Realm.  He’d tried to underplay the fact that, instead of dying like just about anyone else would have done, Elijah had gone and conquered the gods bedamned thing. 

Alone.

It was a challenge meant for, at the very least, a large party.  Most Primal Realms were tackled by armies. 

And he’d overcome it alone.

It was an unthinkable achievement, and it had obviously left its mark on Elijah.  Sure, he tried to pretend otherwise.  He tried to act like everything was normal.  But Kurik knew his friend well enough to recognize all those subtle signs that his friend had frayed at the seams.  It was only going to get worse unless something changed.

“Where’d you get that suit anyway?” Kurik asked.  They were waiting for the chapel to open so that guests could be seated.  Hundreds of people milled around, and Kurik knew that many more would have attended if there was room.  The banquet planned for later was going to be a settlement-wide affair. 

“Hope made it for me,” the Druid said, adjusting his tie.  “It’s not too much, is it?  I feel like it’s too much.”

“You’re not supposed to wear white to a wedding,” Jess said.  She wore a modest blue dress – elegant but understated. 

“Isn’t that only for the bride?” asked Ron.  His suit was more in line with what Kurik understood was the norm for human weddings.  Black, with an odd strip of cloth that had been tied into a bow around his neck. 

By comparison, Kurik and Carissa wore traditional dwarven robes, heavy and cinched at the waist with a sash meant to convey one’s clan.  Kurik’s was red, with elaborate scrollwork detailing his clan’s long and storied history.  Carissa had been born to a lower class family, and her sash was yellow, with a much simpler design.

If his family knew he’d taken up with a commoner, they would have long since become apoplectic.  Not that he cared – his clan had long since fallen well below the lowest echelons of dwarven society.  That they clung so hard to their heritage was a family flaw, as far as he was concerned.  They were no better than anyone else, despite their history.

Plus, Carissa was a beautiful dwarf, sturdy and dependable.  She also held one of the most important positions in the city, which made her even more attractive.  Practicality was an important part of any pairing, after all.

He gripped her hand a little harder, knowing good and well that her social standing had almost nothing to do with their relationship.

“I thought so,” Elijah said.  “But I’ve only been to a few weddings in my life, so…”

It had been a bit odd to discover that the concept of marriage existed on Earth in virtually the same way it had been established on other worlds.  Sure, there were some differences based on culture – Kurik knew of plenty of polyamorous societies – but the ideas behind marriage seemed practically universal, even if the details tended to differ. 

Apparently, human marriage wasn’t so different from the dwarven concepts, though.  That was a bit of a relief.  He didn’t hate new experiences, but he definitely wasn’t comfortable encountering strange customs. 

“It’s fine,” Jess said.  “If you were a woman, I’d insist you change right now.  But it’s okay.”

“I just wish I didn’t have to wear these torturous things,” Elijah said, shaking one of his feet.  The polished brown shoes looked mostly normal – at least by human standards – but they definitely radiated a sense of domineering ethera, suggesting that the leather was something special.  “I forgot how much wearing shoes sucks.  These are better than the ones I bought back in Seattle – a lot more comfortable – but it feels like my toes are in jail.”

“Everybody wears shoes,” Kurik grunted.

“Yeah.  A mistake, I think.  I mean, I’ve thought a lot about this, too.  Shoes are like prisons for our feet that –”

Jess giggled, while Carissa just shook her head.  Ron was grinning too.

“What?” Elijah asked, looking from one person to another.

“Prisons for our feet,” Jess breathed between laughs.  “You are such a weirdo.”

“No – I was really thinking about it the other day.  Why do we wear shoes in the first place?  Because it protects our feet, right?  Everyone here has enough Constitution to make that pointless.  Therefore, shoes are unnecessary.”

“I like shoes,” Ron said.

“Same,” Kurik agreed.

“I don’t want to walk around barefoot,” Jess stated.

“I sometimes walk the mines without my boots,” Carissa admitted.  Everyone looked at her.  “What?  You get a better feel for it.”

“See?  That’s what I’m saying!” Elijah exclaimed proudly.  Then, facing Carissa, he held his hand up.  When she just looked at him in confusion, he added, “Oh, come on.  You’ve been on Earth long enough to know what a high-five is.  I know you have.”

Then, suddenly, she broke into a grin.  “Oh, I do.  Just like to see you uncomfortable.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, muttering, “With friends like these…”

Carissa gently slapped his hand.  “No-shoes club for life.”

Elijah grinned, but before he could respond, the doors to the chapel opened, and someone announced that they should find their seats.  The group didn’t take positions at the front, but instead remained near the back so closer friends and family could take more prominent places. 

Kurik looked around, noticing a good deal of overtly religious iconography.  He was vaguely familiar with human religions, and he’d seen enough of the multi-verse that he couldn’t discount any of it.  His own people had a wide variety of religious views, some ranging back to the very origins of dwarves.  According to those stories, his race was created by a powerful mountain god who molded them from rock and lava, then breathed them to life by sacrificing a portion of his own power.  The tale was ubiquitous enough that nearly all dwarven religions had adopted some version of it. 

Was it literal?  Or just a metaphor?  Kurik had no idea, but he liked the comfort of knowing that his people were a deliberate creation rather than the result of happenstance.  It made him feel like they were more special than those other races who’d evolved on their own, and only due to perfect conditions, luck, and eons of development. 

“These benches are uncomfortable,” he grumbled, shifting around. 

“Pews,” Elijah said.

“What?”

“They’re called pews.  They’re always like this in churches,” he stated.  “I think it’s because they didn’t want people to nod off during sermons.”

“If people are noddin’ off during sermons, you’re doin’ it wrong,” Kurik argued.

Elijah shrugged.  “Maybe.”

For the next few minutes, everyone sat there, the din of conversation carrying across the chapel.  It was large enough to accommodate a couple hundred people, but there were a few standing at the back wall as well.  The front of the room was characterized by a raised dais and a polished wooden podium.  White banners trimmed in gold and bearing the image of a cross covered the wall behind it. 

Eventually, Lamar made an appearance.  He was dressed similarly to Ron, all in black.  Boring, Kurik thought.  “Ought to be a bit of color in a man’s wardrobe on his weddin’ day,” he said quietly.

No one responded.

But at least Lamar had cultivated a proper beard.  He’d made some effort to tame the thing, but its majesty couldn’t quite be contained.  It stood in stark contrast to his bald head. 

Of course, even if he’d been naked-faced, nobody would have had the courage to point it out.  The man was huge, broad-shouldered, and high-leveled.  Anyone who picked that fight was bound to come away disappointed.

Or broken.

Most of the other men standing at the front of the chapel were just as large.  Apparently, they’d been athletes of a sort – Kurik thought the game they played sounded a bit like gladiatorial combat – and they had the bodies one might expect from that kind of profession.  Only one was markedly smaller, though he resembled Lamar in both complexion and facial features. 

Perhaps they were kin.

Whatever the case, they were all dressed identically. 

A man in a black suit and white collar entered from a side door, then, after shaking Lamar’s hand and exchanging a few remarks, took his place behind the podium.  A moment later, music began, and the attendees went silent as the doors to the back of the chapel opened, and a procession began. 

It was not what Kurik had expected.

In dwarven culture, the bride would have been carried forward by her sisters.  He knew better than to expect that, but he’d been led to believe that in normal human weddings, the bridesmaids – as they were called – were meant to be escorted by the groomsmen.  Apparently, that wasn’t what Helen wanted, so her attendants walked down the aisle alone.

There were only three of them, and two bore visible scars – evidence of what people had gone through since the world had changed.  Sometimes, Kurik forgot just how chaotic it must have been for the natives.  To suddenly have their world transformed?  It must have been an impossible situation.  It was difficult enough for people like him and the others who’d founded Ironshore, but at least they’d had preparation.  Humans had not, and because of that, many had perished.

And the survivors were forever changed.

The bridesmaids took their positions opposite the groomsmen, and the music shifted.  Finally, Helen came, escorted by an older man.  They didn’t look related – apparently, tradition dictated that her father should have been there, but that just wasn’t possible. 

Everyone knew why, even if no one had overtly explained it.

Death had affected everyone, after all.

Once Helen took her place next to Lamar, the ceremony progressed according to human traditions.  Even Kurik found himself tearing up when the pair exchanged vows, pledging to love one another until death. 

And then, almost anticlimactically, it ended with a kiss.  Everyone cheered, and the wedding party filed out. 

“Are you crying?” asked Elijah.

“What? No,” Kurik muttered, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.  “Just somethin’ in my eyes.”

“Sure, bud,” Elijah said, elbowing him.  “Me too.”

His own eyes were red-rimmed and watery. 

“I thought it was a wonderful ceremony,” Jess said as they rose and followed the flow of the crowd as they made their way out of the chapel and into the settlement proper.  The party was meant to encompass the entire main building, but the center would be in the dining hall, which had been decorated overnight.  “Helen was worried over nothing.”

“What was she worried about?” asked Ron.

“Nothing,” Jess answered.  “Like I said.”

Over the next few minutes, the group shuffled toward the dining hall.  When they arrived, it was half full, and the expansive room had been transformed.  Not only had it been decorated with a host of colorful flowers, but an enormous feast had been laid out.  Kurik started to make his way there, but Carissa pulled him up short, reminding him that they were supposed to wait on the bride and groom.

“Fine,” he grunted.

As it turned out, they didn’t have long to wait, and soon enough, everyone was laughing and eating as they celebrated the couple’s new union. 

But just as Kurik was digging into some sort of stew, there was a commotion at the dining hall door. 

Then, everyone went silent before a long, slow clap echoed across the room.  “Congratulations!” someone said.  Kurik turned to see the speaker standing in the doorway.  “Imagine my surprise when I found out my good friend Lamar Sims was gettin’ married.  My invitation musta been lost in the mail.”