He was certain that he would’ve preferred to have a duel instead. Of course, there’d be no enjoyment found in this or that, but surely anything would beat standing in a line as lengthy as this one. Why would so many people choose this specific day to get married? Was there something special about a date as such? No, there really wasn’t. One could imagine that they just happened to be unlucky. As if the universe was against them, specifically Kanrel, who just wanted to be done with it; to congratulate his friend for the beginning of this process and good luck for the good news that there might be in a few days. Then he’d be on his way, going up the steps to the higher floors of the Forum until he’d reach the chamber where the council would await him and give him their verdict.
There was so much that Kanrel could levy, he felt, to gain access to the Sanctuary. Be it his breakthrough in magical ability and coding, or, if necessary, his findings into what magic truly was, the corrupt light that could push away even the shadows of the Veil.
Instead, he stood in line, not too far away from Y’Kraun, who seemed ecstatic, right beside Gar, who seemed even more bored than Kanrel was. And each time Y’Kraun would throw them a glance, Gar and Kanrel would both form the brightest smile on their faces, as if they were as ecstatic about the situation as their friend.
It wasn’t that they weren’t. It was just that there were so many better things to do than, well, this.
But at least this gave Kanrel time to observe the things and the people that were around him: the many Atheians who were on their own business, be it applying for marriage, or perhaps for a permit to open up a new shop in town, or just verification on some other possibly useless thing that needed all this bureaucracy to be allowed, let alone work in the minds of the Atheians. It was curious how the culture between one place and another within the same society could be so different.
The City of Creation didn’t work in such a way, even though it did receive its mandate from the Council of Many Faces and the Forum at large. There, ordinary citizens didn’t have to go through so many steps to do what they wanted; it wasn’t because the City of Creation was more effective in its bureaucratic structure; there were just fewer things to go through in a smaller city. The Forum handled not only the things that came from the City of Last Light but also all the cities, villages, and other settlements beyond it. All things needed to be verified, and through the limited authority that the other cities had, they could handle things that weren’t so “important” or “sensitive” to the system at large.
And now, he couldn’t help but wonder how it went with the issue of the “unfair treatment of law-abiding prostitutes in government-regulated brothels.” Did the owners receive the tax cuts they so wished to be implemented, and if so, did the workers of said brothels receive more compensation for the work that they did? Or did the tax cuts just fatten the bellies of those who owned and managed the brothels?
The system remained dull, yet one couldn’t help but wonder what kind of secrets one could find in the archives of such an immense structure, the center of all bureaucratic endeavors in this society. Everything from local politics and the identities of simple law-abiding individuals to the management of greater things, like churches, temples, libraries, and banks, and the richest and the most powerful members of society. Kanrel imagined that there would be information about all of this and much, much more somewhere within this building; perhaps buried deep beneath it, collected somewhere it all would remain safe and untouched by eyes that could use it for their own benefit. After all, such information was only for the eyes of the council and those who worked for them.
This begged an important question to be asked: How did they hold all this control, all this power? Why did the many factions of society agree to this system that had a knife to their throats at all times? For this to be allowed, there had to be some great benefit that these factions enjoyed within society as well as from the council… and this question, too, would be answered by reports within the records of this great library, all surely spoiled by corruption and the misdeeds of those who most benefited from the fruits it provided…
One could imagine an orchard not far from a village, its trees bountiful with fruit. Workers with filthy hands gather the harvest into baskets and haul them with great effort to the village; they lay the fruit before a marbled house surrounded by huts of dirt; they watch with hungry eyes as their leader emerges to inspect the bounty of their labor.
A servant steps forth with a basin of water. With practiced hands, they wash a handful of fruit, soon presenting one that now glistens in the evening sun. The master accepts it with a smile, biting into its tender flesh. The juice bursts forth, sweet and rich, staining a mouth far filthier than the hands that picked it, granting him the luxury to live in indulgence until the end of his days.
Such was a way to look at it. His curious eyes touched the faces of those around him, again wondering their reasons to be here, but his curiosity was disturbed by Gar’s question: “Is it much different from how your people do it?”
Kanrel almost winced because of the unexpected question; his gaze found the Atheian, who studied his face; in those ocean-blue eyes, there was wonder but a certain naivety. Gar had never known of something else. He had not seen a world different from his own; he had never met people of a different race. So it was for all Atheians. They knew only of better and worse in the context of their own society and the history of their people. Of course, Kanrel couldn’t claim that what he had seen was truly better or worse; he was just certain that it was somehow different even if the effect was at times the same.
“Governance? Marriage? Standing in line?” Kanrel asked.
Gar chuckled, “Well, marriage, of course, but with so many options given, I’d love to hear the difference in all of them.” He suggested.
Kanrel pondered for a while and soon snorted, “I will have to be quite honest with you; I’ve never been married, and I’ve only ever attended a few weddings…”
“Thus, in that regard, I can only give you things that I’ve read about or heard from others.”
“Marriage is often seen as a deal with two families. This is how it was for most of the people that I knew; after all, I came from considerable wealth. Some of my friends had to worry about arranged marriages to spouses they would not see before the day of the wedding.” He remembered Yviev, who had been betrothed to the murdered Jeso, whom they had found in Yviev’s room; the image of him suspended in the air with all of his limbs pierced by long stakes; there had been no blood, instead, those damn red rose petals that covered the ground. An old memory, so vividly painted itself within his mind. For a moment he closed his eyes and soon shook that memory away, continuing his explanation: “And for the less fortunate, there too remains this sense of it being a deal of sorts. A story of succession and how wealth is inherited. Yet all, aristocrat and plebeian alike hold dreams of marriage of love.”
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“The ceremony itself depends on where one lives; in the south, where I’m from, it is a religious festivity, where a priest is needed as witness for the vows of the two. In the north, where I was stationed for a few years, weddings often had greater festivities… Multiple couples might get married the same day, blessed by a priest if one happened to be there, and if not, then such a blessing was prayed for.” Kanrel explained, remembering one such occasion he had managed to pass through whilst traveling toward Jersten. That time he didn’t bless the couples that were to be wed, something that he felt like he perhaps should’ve done; maybe a blessing is needed for a wedding. Marriage does seem quite difficult after all.
Gar listened intently. “Interesting.” He then smiled, “One could say that your weddings and ours aren’t that different; what we seek instead of a blessing from a priest is a blessing from the state. And do look around; many people are getting married at the same time. Suppose the surroundings are a tad different.” He said with a grin.
“But, I do assume that standing in line isn’t so different… But what about governance? Is it so different, really? You have your kings and your heralds, your nobles and such; your cities and villages have mayors unless they are ruled by the aforementioned nobles directly…”
“To my ears, it isn’t that different; in fact, it might as well be the same, just with a king instead of a council on top.”
Kanrel furrowed his brows as he thought about it more deeply; it really wasn’t different at all. “Perhaps it is the illusion that we have of freedom.”
“For us, a farmer has no need to look for a permit for whatever he might want to do; he just has to buy or rent the land he wishes to toil, and this he pays back once a harvest, with the fruits of his labor; he pays first the lord who rules his village or owns his lands, and the lord then pays the crown or the church, depending on whichever group happens to own a given piece of land…”
“In practice, it isn’t different at all. Only that one fraction of it is different. A farmer barely ever has to traverse to a larger city to fill a formula so that he might apply for a permit to do a given thing. He just needs to pay his taxes on time. And if he has gripes or issues with bandits and such, he might present his case before his immediate lordship, from whom he will most often or not receive help.” Kanrel explained but then stopped for a while; he snorted once again, “But now that I try to explain the imagined differences between our two systems, the less I find of them, and I continue to wonder if one is better than the other, or if both are just the same and through spending time here have I understood the issues of the world from where I came from.”
Kanrel sighed, “Perhaps I’ve been too hasty and rather foolish with the judgment that I have held within.” His tone was apologetic.
Gar scoffed, “Well, it does sound familiar, after all.” He sighed in turn, “I just had hoped that there might be something better than this.” He muttered and let his gaze wander around this floor of the Forum.
Just why did it have to be so slow? The line crawled forth at the pace and grace of an eel. No, an eel was surely much more graceful than this, for one can’t help but overhear conversation one might not need to nor wish to hear… One couple, who stood awkwardly apart from each other, sought marriage because they got caught doing "the business" by their parents, and now, those parents demanded that such disgrace be rectified by an untimely marriage. Oh, so many things one has to do for the honor of one’s own family.
Then there was a male prostitute and his customer, who had become his fiancée, an older woman, perhaps somewhat lonely, possibly getting exploited by the youthful Atheian, who lovingly held her hand in his own… It was somehow sweet, even if Kanrel had his doubts about their intentions.
And then there were Y’Kraun and U’Ran’Ui, the next two in line, holding hands with smiles that brightened their gray faces. In their eyes, there was something that even Kanrel could recognize, a feeling that he had never felt himself, at least not to this degree. Just days before, he had accused Gar of being jealous of Y’Kraun, but now he couldn’t help but be jealous as well.
They had picked each other, despite being so very different yet the same. They had picked each other, not because they needed to settle things of inheritance, not because of a mistake they had committed, not because of lust or inherent loneliness. They weren’t here to exploit each other, at least in the sense that one thinks of exploitation. They were here to exploit each other in the most evil yet beautiful way that one could exploit another: through love.
They were here to stop the tyranny of love, or at least try to do so. Through shelter found in each other, they picked each other, confined in each other, they confessed their weakness and the tyranny that was there to ravage their minds. Perhaps this love would be accepted; perhaps it would be rightful. And one could only hope that for the sake of these two, one will never lose the other, lest the pieces of a once-beating heart be found bled through the eyes of the one that had lost their center. Let neither of these hearts grow regretful and too afraid to love anew.
And when they at last got their turn, they together placed a simple piece of paper upon the counter, which a clerk hastily read through, smiled without it reaching his eyes, and stamped it, telling them that they may go now and await the good news. A brief congratulations, a lover's kiss, and just like that, an Atheian wedding was complete.
Somehow it remained somewhat beautiful, even amidst its banality. There was no first dance, no vows between two lovers, no blessings from a priest, nor cheers from the crowd; the bride didn’t even have a dress or a bouquet of flowers. It was simple. It was boring. But none of that mattered, as long as there was love between the two.
Even here love may exist. Even in this coldness of the Atheian society, love thrived in a way that Kanrel could only observe, a distant truth he couldn’t quite touch. Kanrel wished that he could smile for them, giving them a smile that wasn’t as constructed as the clerk’s cold smile. He just didn’t know how to; such a lie he was unable to form.
Soon enough he was again pulled away from his thoughts as the next thing awaited him and his attention; Gar and Y’Kraun led him through the floors, where they might seek the audience of the Council of Many Faces. U’Ran’Ui was left behind, still on her face a smile that could only be described as happy. To be so lucky to have found love and to be in love. Perhaps, he too, would one day discover the ability to once more experience love as could any man who hadn’t gone through with the Ritual.