***
“A small feast in the twilight lights is what I had asked for, Flann, nothing more” Cerys told her, smiling. Although the bride had not wanted to reveal to her what had happened in the two hours preceding that heap of tables bristling with food and wine and drunk and hungry people, Flann was old enough to guess that the two had largely consumed what there was to consume in a wedding but well in advance of the wedding night, which is the time designated to do so.
“And it seems to me that a small feast is as much as you have received, isn’t it? What importance can it have if two hundred or two thousand people participate in it?” asked the slender, small girl who was once again gazing in wonder at Cerys’ white dress of thirst and chiffon.
Flann did not resemble Cerys at all, nor was she as feminine as the bride, she was aware of that. Her hair was as red as blood, a colour the Divines could hardly have given her, and in fact it had been the skilful work of magic. Skilful but risky given how the first time she tried - she couldn’t have been more than eight years old, that she remembered - she had remedied an alopecia which almost caused Auryn, Cerys, Haul and Lloer to die so much they laughed. Since then, she had sworn to protect her hair at the cost of her own life.
“You’re still the same, Flann” Auryn interjected, completing the trio of smiles. “You love games and parties and happiness and that’s why we love you, little sister.” He stroked her cheek with a soft, smooth hand like that of an infant.
Flann was Cerys’s younger sister but ever since she was born, Auryn had also taken care of her as if he were her own older brother. And just like he truly was one, Flann adored him, though often, for whatever reason, she pained to admit it. “Do you like what I have prepared?” she asked, clearly proud of her job. She had had to work hard to get her sister to give her the job, and just as hard she had had to work endlessly to set up a wedding-worthy symposium like that.
“All this, my little one,” Cerys began, placing a hand on her head, “is simply wonderful.”
A few miles south of Dinas City - Capital of the Kingdom of Dinas - stretched the Ciardha forest and, just before the northern border of the huge green bush, there was a small village called Swans’ Nest, but not because there were swans in that place. The name had been chosen centuries before by the inhabitants because it was often in that area, rich of flowers and fertile lands, that lovers decided to celebrate their unions. And what better animal than the faithful swans to represent love?
Flann knew that the villagers did not exceed a hundred in number, but she was equally sure that evening, right there, she had managed to gather over two thousand people. Swans’ Nest was nothing more than a red dot in a sea of green or rather, a multitude of red dots. For such events, thousands of candles illuminated the stone streets as well as thousands of small red buds created a roof of garlands between one building and another, then going to meet in an oval square where precisely the girl with scarlet hair had arranged to set up tables and food. Pomegranate and pear wine flowed in rivers, as did fruity beer, cider, and grape brandy. On any of the tables, in large silver trays, stood rye bread, eels in onion gravy, sizzling lamb chops, pork lard with caramelized onions or whole spit-roasted pigs glazed with molasses syrup. And then also trout in bread crust and lemon, smoked salmon and, above all, the favourite dish of the couple: lamprey in green parsley sauce.
“It wasn’t easy, you know?” Flann stated, looking for other appreciation and thanks in her interlocutors. “Bring all those tables, the skewers, the pigs on the skewers, and the fish that were still struggling. A lot of work, believe me. But the hardest part was getting the wine and beer here. Do you at least know how heavy a barrel like that is?”
“As if you knew, right?” in a shrill chorus made two young men who loomed behind the bride and groom. They were twins, both good-looking, both blond and brown-eyed, and both always far too extravagant, according to Flann’s taste.
“What do you say, Lloer? Does she know?” one said, wrapping an arm around Cerys’ small shoulders. The golden curls fell on his shoulders and forehead, framing his lean face. He wore a long silk tunic with red and white vertical stripes.
“What am I saying, Haul? I say she might know, but only if she had brought them here, right?” the other answered, wrapping Auryn’s shoulders. It would have looked like the reflection of his brother in a mirror had it not been for the clothes - also identical in shape to those of his twin - in blue and white vertical stripes. “She’s the youngest of our particular Order, huh?” resumed Lloer continuing to shrug the groom’s shoulders.
“The youngest, yes? People call her Weirdeyes, don’t they?” Haul replied, doing with Cerys the same Lloer was doing with Auryn. Also confirming Flann’s theory that the twins were only able to argue by articulating sentences in the form of a question.
They’ll call me that way forever, Flann told herself. I should learn a new spell for these eyes... What if I do more damage? That was what filled her mind; however, such thoughts didn’t last long because like every time they’d called her that, even then she reminded herself that the only thing really mattered, despite appearances, were her skills. Although she was still young and immature, she had such promising skills in the use of magic that Auryn, the current Grand Master, included her by merit in the inner circle of wizards he had decided to surround himself with, the ones he believed would be the best representatives of the Magical Order of Dinas during his charge.
Fire had always been Flann’s element and red her colour, perhaps because at birth the Divines Ten had granted her one eye of the iris of the same sanguine hue as her hair, as opposed to the other in which the iris and the pupil was as black as the abyssal depths. ‘Heterochromia’ that singularity of hers had been defined by the now past Grand Master Dealanach the Perennial, according to what Cerys could tell her years later. ‘The infant has been blessed’ Dealanach had said to her mother who was holding her jealously. ‘A red eye to see the future amidst the flames, a black one to identify the truth even when only darkness advances.’ If as a child Flann had been able to believe this was the truth. During her childhood those eyes had given her nothing but self-doubt and fear of herself and much of the credit had also been to Haul and Lloer. Not that the twins were bad but were always the first words thought that came out of their mouths and these often sounded extravagant and unintelligent to Flann’s ears.
So, she decided to do what was right: ignore them.
Auryn came to her aid with the kindness and elegance typical of her older brother. “Friends” he began with a smile. “I’m pretty sure the banquet has just begun and you’re already dead drunk.”
“Just started, you say?” asked the one in the red and white striped clothing.
“Didn’t it start this morning in Dinas City?” the blue and white brother joined.
Auryn could have done everything but blame them. The streets during the ceremony had been packed and celebrating, there was no doubt. “True,” said the Grand Master. “However, it was that part of the people who could not have done it here and now that got drunk in the alleys of Dinas City. Don’t get me wrong, friends, the nature of this banquet is itself the delight. It’s just that our little Flann has put in so much effort that she deserves some praise, rather. Don’t you believe it too?”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Do we believe it?” the twins asked in chorus, loosening the coils from the shoulders of the couple. It was Lloer who spoke once they passed Cerys and Auryn: “We’ll do that, then, won’t we?”
With a theatrical gesture they turned to look at Flann. “Little girl, are you there?” Haul asked. “Let’s play a game, yeah? We ask you a riddle and if you guess the answer we congratulate you, all right?”
“No” the girl replied with a nod of annoyance. “It’s okay that you and Madwyn and Rheowen took care of the barrels, but I was good at organizing everything too! I deserve your compliments, regardless of some stupid riddle!”
They ignored her.
“The top of the little Red Tower has two well-defended windows and from one of them you can see the light of a torch, is that clear?” Lloer began.
“When night comes, the shutters are closed and black rules, is it true?” pursued Haul.
“When the day comes, the shutters open and yet in one of them the black continues to rule, who knows why?” concluded Lloer.
“What are those weird lights in the windows?” they asked in chorus.
My eyes. Flann guessed easily but decided not to satisfy them. Their ears wouldn’t hear those words. “Idiots” she said rather, and immediately afterwards uttered as quickly as the long formula of magical words could. Above her a circle of red, orange, and yellow sparks began to whirl faster and faster. I deserved the compliments, damn you... she thought disappearing through the portal.
-
It did not take long before Flann returned to the banquet, she would not have been able to leave so stupidly the wedding of her sister. She had had plenty of time to shed tears away from prying eyes and stargazing from the top of the Grand Master’s Tower, nestled in the huge Ciardha forest, had helped her calm down more than she thought possible.
She arrived at Swans’ Nest just in time for the speech.
“What did I miss?” she asked to Athair trying with all her might to ignore Roselyn and Aylin’s hands under his robe.
“Greetings, little girl. I had sensed the opening of two portals. Very good, you don’t even look tired. You practiced, huh?” Athair with his white hair and too lean physique could not be called a handsome man, yet many of the women Flann knew considered him charming and elegant in his own way, not surprisingly the busty Roselyn and Aylin used to sleep with him, always in pairs. The two were said to use certain strange spells to make them experience pleasure for longer, but no one outside the trio could have known for sure.
Flann smiled at the compliment, but her eyes fell again on the hands of the two girls, also belonging to the Magical Order of Auryn. From the alternating expressions on Athair’s face one could tell how skilled the women were. Roselyn had a shaved head, the regrowth cast a bluish shadow all over her head. Aylin, on the other hand, used to tie her very long brown hair in a thick braid. Both were so prosperous that they wiped out the beauty of any other woman who unfortunately found herself by their side.
Embarrassed, Flann was forced to look away to a small box in the centre of the oval square when she saw Aylin smile at her and lick her lips. Just on that rise the newlyweds were heading.
“Thank you, Athair” she finally said. “Where have the Aureate gone?”
“As you can see, the girls and I are having fun here. I saw Gwydion, intent on getting drunk and talking about the wedding of his son Madwyn to Rheowen, the Ice Queen. I think the latter two, on the other hand, took refuge to attend to... their marital affairs. Seven years of marriage and they still haven’t managed to conceive a little devil.”
At least they do such things privately, Flann thought, watching her sister greet the guests at Swans’ Nest from the dais, Auryn beside him.
“Haul and Lloer were desperate in their own way for offending you” Athair went on. “Would you believe me if I told you they looked really sorry?”
“Not at all” Flann hissed.
The man smiled, between tremors. “And you do well. Who understands those two?”
“They understand each other and that’s enough for them.”
“Thank you all for being here” Auryn’s loud voice interrupted Flann. “I don’t think there are enough words to describe the joy of seeing you gathered to celebrate the most important day of our lives.” He hugged his wife, kissed her, and said: “As you know, though, if those words exist, only Cerys can know them”.
“You’re the usual slacker!” came from a little old man with a hunched back yelled sobbing. Thick grey hair veiled in white fell over his shoulders. He was Gwydion, the eldest of the Aureate and the only one among them to have also served in the Magical Order of the previous Grand Master. Just like Athair had said, he was drunk.
“Just a few words” Cerys announced, smiling at the crowd that had gathered a few steps from the box. “Those necessary for you to understand how much Auryn has meant to me.
“I have long believed that our destinies, mine and that of my little sister Flann, was to remain alone against everyone and everything, against the world, against the hand that moves the red threads of an adverse fate. Could I have believed otherwise after our mother died? Our father was far away in the Hypermagical Dimension to quench his thirst for insane knowledge, and we were left to fend for ourselves. Sorry…” Her eyes went wet and so did Flann’s. “And yet,” she resumed as soon as she managed to wipe away her tears, “we weren’t alone. I wasn’t alone. He has always been with us, from the beginning. I vowed to protect my sister, even though I don’t really have the same strength as her, and not to make her miss a mother figure. As if that were enough. For her I would also have acted for two, covering even the paternal one.
“And instead? Instead Auryn sneaked into my life when I was still a little girl with a bassoon named Flann in my arms.” Although the tears continued to fall down her white cheeks, a smile made its way on her face and, just as they were one person, the same also happened to Flann who was watching her from under the stage as she had never done since she had never understood how much her sister was willing to sacrifice for her.
“Yes, Auryn appeared out of nowhere, flying through the skies, breaking through the clouds and dispelling the storms around us. My life, which until then I had thought insignificant, he lit up like a beacon in the darkest night. He protected me, he protected us. He loved me as a wife deserves to be loved long before this wedding was celebrated. And I did and will do the same until my death and even after it.
“I thought I was alone, that I had to get by myself and instead I was surrounded by the dearest friends one could wish for. Not just my husband” she said between sobs, squeezing his hand tightly. “Flann and the Aureate of the Order. And you… All of you, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here to celebrate with us, for standing beside me in the dark and in the light. And even you... mom... From the Aoibh Eilean the view must be pleasant, isn’t it? Thank you for guiding me from up there, for allowing me to be here now, surrounded by these good people. I… only thanks, to each of you.”
Flann, without even thinking about it, hurled herself between Auryn and Cerys, clutching her family as tightly as she could. In groups of one, two and three, Gwydion, Haul and Lloer, Athair, Roselyn and Ailin also joined them. Out of nowhere, even Madwyn, the son of Gwydion, and Rheowen, the Ice Queen, appeared. The complete Aureate huddled in one huge embrace, surrounded by the cheering crowd that could feel the warmth of the aura of the most powerful of magic: love.
That night and that moment remained forever the best memory Flann had ever had.