The convoy to Sintra was delayed by a stubborn old sage who refused to be the only matrimonial witness. He stalled the caravan by shouting from his porch, howling about succubi til Eldred came to investigate. Upon seeing the dark affinity mage carrying Petra’s lone copy of the Teutonic codex (the Fulminonimbus’ holy book), he puzzled the pieces together.

Mischief lit up his face as he lifted the bugle of alarm to his mouth, sounding the ram’s horn with a long slow exhale. Farmers dropped their bags and grabbed their spears, rushing to the aid of their town. The militia arrived first, surrounding their lord and lady in waiting.

“Very considerate of you Eldred! This ought to do for the small ceremony Lord Liam was asking for...” Exclaimed Rhendal, opening a book that Liam recognized as the church’s sacred text.

Liam wished he knew what the book said, if only to satisfy his curiosity, but Green’s memories staunchly refuted it as “gilded flappery.” A title that would’ve made him laugh on any day except his wedding day.

Scores of farmers quickly swarmed the town square. Annoyed that they had been called away from their families with an alarm meant to signal an attack. Most came from the wagons, but a few exited homes. Liam caught sight of one man buttoning his trousers as he climbed out of an outhouse window. Clearly disturbed while taking care of business.

Their anger gave way to joy as Eldred pointed to the book in Rhendal’s hands in way of explanation. They may have been illiterate, but the appearance of the holy scripture meant one of two things, a formal funeral or a wedding.

Annoyance bent into red-faced excitement for the Petrans. Pleasantly surprised by this turn of events, most militiamen hooted with glee, raising their spears skyward and taking a knee in reverence. As they lowered themselves the villagers were able to see the gilded book, spreading the news. Rhendal was stood beside a man and a woman, heralding good tidings.

“For those who do not know me, my name is Rhendal, many years ago I attained the rank of master sage from the kingdom’s royal college of fire. Today I have the pleasure of uniting two souls before the auspice of our Therun Taloc. But I am only one witness, who will stand with me as witnesses of this holy union?”

Cheers went up throughout the crowd, slaying the tension as they realized the alarm wasn’t for fresh portals. Liam watched three women break down in tears, relief, and joy overwhelming them.

“Baron William Ethan Green, do you find these farmers to be acceptable witnesses for a noble’s wedding?” Asked Rhendal, earning cheers and boos in equal measure.

Liam bit his tongue, knowing the sage was making a scene despite his wish for a private ceremony. He’s got me by the huevos. Fine; old man. It’s a wedding, we can faf around.

“Farmers as witnesses? Have you gone senile Rhendal?” Asked Liam.

Eyebrows raised in surprise, confusion spread like hunger through the people, and Eldred cocked his head, signaling concern to Liam.

Who decided it was time to double down.

“Farmers would be insufficient witnesses, I could not trust them to testify of my wedding to the king! Oh no, farmers would not do…” Shouted Liam, earning a dozen frowns, including Rhendal’s own.

Satisfied with Rhendal’s confusion, Liam continued.

“Good thing there are no farmers left in Petra. I see only proven soldiers, men and women who have survived the gaping maw of purgatory. They have proven themselves as stalwart people, thus I have no doubt they could match King Aldric’s gaze. No man could ask for more honourable band of witnesses.” Said Liam, shouting louder than necessary.

His volume encouraged their own, and raucous cheers erupted from the militia, so loud they made Nyota jump in surprise. Rhendal opened his book, muttering about ‘drama queens at weddings’ before raising one hand to quiet the crowd.

“Very well. Repeat after me Baron William Ethan Green,...

“”I, Baron William Ethan Green, under the watchful gaze of the Fulminonimbus, pledge to you, Nyota, to be my wife. I vow to stand by your side through the brightest lightning and the darkest storms. Just as Therun Perun Taloc wields the thunder’s might, I promise to love and protect you with the strength of lightning, in times of joy and in trials. I shall honor and cherish you all the days of my life."

An intrusive thought entered Liam’s mind. What did Nyota want more than anything else? What did her life lack? The answer was as obvious as lightning, Liam cleared his throat, adding an unplanned line to their vows.

“My home will be your home, and your family will be my family. No matter how many there are.” he said.

Puzzled looks crossed Nyota and Rhendal’s faces, changing marital vows was not done in this world, but the odd addition seemed harmless. Not wanting to sour the moment, Rhendal turned to Nyota, reading the vow from the book for her to repeat.

“I, Nyota, beneath the divine sparks of the Fulminonimbus, pledge to you, Baron William Ethan Green, to be my husband. I promise to be your shelter from the tempest, and your beacon in your darkest hours. Just as our god-king rules the heavens, I vow to love and stand beside you with the brilliance of lightning, I shall adore and support you all the days of my life.”

Nyota finished reciting her vow, then she added a line, identical to Liam’s.

“My home will be your home, and your family will be my family. No matter how many there are.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.”

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Liam wasted no time finding Nyota’s lips, lingering there long enough for the press of townsfolk to get an eyeful. Spears clanked against shields as the militia cheered and applauded with their arms full.

Had it not been for the bandages covering the bride and groom they would’ve paraded around the square. As they were, none wished to harm the couple and struggled to celebrate properly in the war torn thorp. What few earthly possessions these farmers possessed were already packed into wagons, and the newlyweds had brought nothing with them. War and violence lay ahead of them as well as behind.

An awkward procession to the wagons began. Militia and farmers offering them empty hands and well wishes. Though they did not let the lack of gifts dampen the mood, cheering all the louder to make up for their lack of offerings. Corporal Eldred maneuvered two of the militiamen, escorting them to the foot of Liam’s wagon, a large open topped wagon. Around him the men gathered their shields, old and half beaten to splinters.

“Alright lads, show our lord to his carriage!” Shouted Eldred.

It took a brief moment for the two men to catch his meaning. With the help of their corporal, they overlaid their shields, forming a table and knelt, presenting the improvised step to Liam.

A shield carry? Not how I pictured my wedding day, but when in Rome I guess… Although I kinda wish we broke out champagne instead, bottles are about the only thing I can beat with a sword…

He stepped onto the shield, placing a hand on each of the men’s shoulders to steady himself. Wholly dependent on the two thin men for his safety. Please don’t drop me… Liam prayed.

“Heave ho!” Shouted Corporal Eldred, hoisting Liam into the air.

The two men raised their lord to the height of his wagon, acting as a rudimentary elevator. A smile was plastered across Liam’s face, giddy at the prospect of leaving the creaky shields.

Two other militia offered their own shield to Nyota, elevating her with far more care than they had done with Liam. While four additional militia stood behind their newfound lady, hands outstretched to stabilize her. Not that she needed it, despite her missing eye, ear, and half her tail Nyota still possessed a certain measure of grace. Her feet danced across the shields and into Liam’s outstretched arms. A shout of jubilation erupted from the rowdy men.

“To Sintra!” Shouted Liam.

“To Lord Green!”

“To lady Nyota!”

Shouted the crowd.

Liam surrendered to their will, taking his seat beside his other half. Yet, amist the shouts of joy and tuneless singing, Liam couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He had never enjoyed the spotlight, but this was something else entirely. A premonition of danger. He glanced at Lady Nyota and saw that she too was looking around suspiciously, sensing something the others could not.

Purple energy appeared on the far side of the square, roiling into an ever growing sphere.

“Portals!” Shouted Liam, pointing behind the crowd.

His voice was lost amongst the cheers, suppressed by their songs, misheard and misunderstood by his people.

“Flower pedals?”

“The lord calls for poodles!”

Maneuvering away from Nyota, he aimed his finger gun at the portal.

On my wedding day! Cmon! God, you are being such an enormous dick! I should sail an island right into your castle!

“Pew… Pew! PEW!”

Nothing happened. No roar of thunder or flash of light greeted his command. He was out of mana. The crowd raised both hands, copying the gesture and shouting “Pew” alongside their lord, forever cementing Petra’s new warcry. The portal had grown to the size of a horse, flattening with a speed that chilled his heart.

“Eldred! Corporal Eldred! There is a portal!” Shouted Liam, his cry of warning going unheeded.

A creature of unparalleled majesty stepped through the portal, its golden mane cascading down it’s neck like molten sunbeams. The creature’s eyes, a mesmerizing shade of amber, held a blend of curiosity and regal grace as it assessed the town before it.

Muscles strained beneath the creature’s taut skin, driving it onward. A second head cleared the portal, and Liam was disgusted to realize it was part of the same being. A grotesque fusion of serpent and fur, featuring a fearsome, elongated snout filled with jagged ivory. Its eyes burned like molten coals, smoldering with malevolence, while the leonine mane surrounding it crackled with fiery energy, undulating as if t’were ablaze. Obsidian scales covered the second head, giving it the appearance of black armor.

Propelled on legs of corded muscle its lithe form moved with a fluid grace that hinted at immense strength. With a deliberate, almost ceremonious step, the creature extended a formidable paw, adorned with razor-sharp claws that glistened with restrained potential. It started with a deep, guttural growl, a nightmarish precursor that resonated with primal malevolence. The wagon beneath Liam seemed to convulse in dread, and the air grew thick with a foreboding weight, pressing down on his shoulders like a suffocating omen.

As the growl evolved into a bone-chilling roar, it felt as though the heavens themselves recoiled in fear. Cheers of joy caught in throats now choked with fear. It was a horrifying proclamation of dominance, a thunderous command that pierced the thick skulls of Petra. In that moment, they knew the king of beasts had come in search of prey. In search of them.

Rhendal moved first, hurling a fireball at the creature. His aim was true, but the woman who had been helping him walk was not a stalwart soul. With terror in her eyes she ran for cover, dragging him with her. The sudden movement yanked his shot off course, his fireball went wide, plowing into one of the homes. Obliterating the front wall and collapsing the building in a cascade of sparks.

The chimera recognized the danger and wasted no time. A long life of feral experience had taught it to reduce the distance with wielders of magic, pressure them or use their allies as ablative shields. It leapt forward, charging into the crowd with teeth bared in a savage grin.

Two militia raised their spears aiming for the face, hoping to score a lucky strike, seeing them the chimera planted its feet, skidding to a stop and nimbly avoiding the spear points. One paw raised, batting aside the men like gnats, no more than insects in the beast king’s eyes.

Liam had never felt so powerless, crippled from his dealings with Quetzalcoatl and drained of his mana his thoughts turned to Nyota. She needed to escape, flee this town, let the militia fight the beast. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a gesture from his own world. Three fingers tucked into the palm, index finger extended and thumb raised high for all to see.

“Pew.” Whispered Nyota.

Thunder peeled at the invocation of heaven’s wrath, depleting her mana in a single —lethal— shot. Her knees shook, failing her. Thankfully Liam was there, catching her before she fell off the wagon.

“Did, did I get it?”

Tears threatened to conceal her face, Liam blinked them away, wishing to protect his precious Nyota. Through his hazy gaze he saw the chimera’s mane of fire wither and vanish, defeated.

“Yes! You got it!” He shouted, words falling on deaf ears.

Exhausted from her wounds it had taken every ounce of mana Nyota had left to kill the beast. Drained of power her mind slipped into the realm of dreams. This time, Quetzalcoatl sailed beside her, as an ally, showing her visions of young felinids that bore a striking resemblance to someone she knew…

An echo from her vows tantalized the darkness, lulling her into the deep slumber of a peaceful rest.

“No matter how many there are.”

“Your family will be my family.”