The clear sky suffused with static as the woods of Strang braced for impact.

“Who am…”

A young man—on all fours—groaned. His head was throbbing, as if it was forcing him to recall. Recall? What was there to recall? His blank mem—

A deluge of images flowed in his head, as he fell, his elbows smashed the ground as he grabbed his nape. Images of a glorious empire, of wealth, of festivities…

“Solana…”

A young woman, his until then blank mind lingered on that image; her teal almond shaped eyes that he used to tease, her rose lips that always looked smiling, her sunkissed skin that that contrasted with the white veil that she was wearing that night, the beauty spot on the left side of her neck—barely visible—that complexed her to no end, and finally her red hair braided in a crown.

That night… they would…

As he remembered what he couldn’t have forgot, his golden locks raised on end, his eyes took the regal color as he grit his teeth, he collapsed before yelling to all creation that name, that single name, in anger and despair… in love and in fear.

“S-S-SOLANA!”

From the clear sky, lightning struck the man, charring crisp all that surrounded him. All the wildlife of Strang, from birds, to bears, to snakes, flew away fearing that running wouldn’t suffice. He yelled, yelled hard enough to rupture his vocal cords, as tears left his eyes already vaporised. He crumbled. Not from the pain, which there was none, but from the weight of the memories.

“So-lana…”

That night should have been the night of their lives, how could things have gone so, so wrong?

#

The man was standing in front of a window, his eyes swimming in the celestial sea, which now looked anything like an ocean. The sun was down, inking the sky of its red and orange who had now tinted damn-near the entire expanse.

Someone knocked at the door. “Open,” he said.

A few instants later, a towering man entered. He wore a black suit with silver epaulets and a number of insignias on his chest. His left’s hand little finger was adorned with a silver ring ornate with a black agate—symbol of the royal guard. Despite that ring, he didn’t look older than twenty.

“I have arrived, your highness.”

“Call me that again and I am breaking your leg.” His highness was still looking outside the window, but he turned his face to look at his guest, his royal nonchalance breathtaking.

They looked at each other, neither breaking the tension.

Their eyes met as sparks seemed to rise in the room, which considering both’s caliber was possible indeed. His highness fully turned, unfurling his arms, the colossus crossed his.

Before the prince’s nose blew.

All the tension disappeared as they burst out in a fit of laughter. “Ansem, you sneaky bastard,” the tall man said as he closed the distance. He gave a vigorous hug to the prince, who hugged him back slapping his back hard enough to leave marks.

“You’re finally getting married!” the giant said picking up the prince—who was by no means small—off the ground, “look how much you’ve grown.”

Despite his warm tone, this was a clear aggression. The prince didn’t see any problem in it, responding in kind. His arms were locked to his side by the hug, but still he could reach the man’s… family.

“Think I can’t see—“ the giant said dropping his hips to avoid the attack, the prince didn’t react to it, this was a diversion. At the same moment, the man dropped, he smashed his forehead in the brawny’s man nose, making him release his hold. The giant staggered back both hands on his nose, there was no blood but the sudden pain froze him.

“Orion, you still can’t beat this prince despite entering the royal guard, can I even have any hope for you?”

“Shut up, you unbecoming prince,” the man said holding his smarting nose, stomping his right foot to the ground.

The prince proved him right. “Ooh, big man got booboo, mwaaaah.” He said imitating a baby crying. “I am sure if you cry loud enough, your momma will come give you some milky.”

Orion looked at his highness, clicking his tongue as he looked away. “At least I got married before you,” the man said, the pain from his nose mostly gone.

The prince puffed his chest as if to show he didn’t care—he did care—and rebutted, “well my to-be wife is for sure prettier than yours.”

Orion’s mouth drew into a smile. “I am getting a second wife?”

The prince’s eyes opened wide; they laughed yet again.

In his room, equipped with all one could ever dream, Orion sat on the bed as the prince approached his desk, sitting on the chair there, backrest to the front, slouching. If any of his nurses were in the room, his ears would be ringing about this and that. The giant laid on the bed, stretching. “So you’re finally turning into a man, uh?”

“Hahaha, even celibate I am much more of a man than you,” the prince answered.

“For sure, for sure, your highness,” he said laughing.

“How’d you confess?” he said still stretching, his entire back raking. He had just returned from an important mission after all, one that had earned him a few months of rest. “No sooner than last month I had given up on you guys.” He sprung back. “are you telling me that all you needed to get courage is for me to go die?”

He said faking betrayal, which made the prince chuckle. “I don’t know… it just happened,” he said as his eyes lost focus.

Orion fake puked as he looked at the prince’s half-witted smile.

It was on the night said of Stocada where the three moons’ cycle coincided. They arranged, forming an ( O ) shape, turning the usually scattered mistresses of the night into something greater, an eerie, but beautiful eye—the eye of a goddess. At least that’s what the folks liked to call it, that or the blessing of Demel. After all, it was believed that relationships declared under her watchful eye would never wither, and that the children born under her watch wouldn’t fall to sickness.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Ansem didn’t believe in these folk’s tales, gods and goddesses existed only insofar as it benefited him. But he had waited quite a while for this celestial phenomenon. He had summoned Solana of Swordmeister that fateful day, they’d known each other ever since they were kids. Originally, their relationship was merely political, both sides pressured for them to be together, despite them having their own thoughts about the matter. He didn’t know when it had started, but their rowdy relationship punctuated by scuffles and jabs of the tongue had burgeoned in a flower of love that neither side dared to pick—both fearing their gift, their feelings, declined. They had grown by now, and the amount of suitable suiters on either side was tremendous.

From the demon spawn he used to be, he had matured somewhat and could now properly live in society, as for her, the beauty he had denied back then had blossomed into something that even the blind could see. He had confessed to her under that sky after stumbling over his words—there was much to be said about the endearing that she felt as she saw the usually so eloquent prince stumble in front of her—she wouldn’t show it, but the palm of her clenched hands were drenched.

Result, after making him linger a bit, the beating of his heart growing so strong that she believed she could hear it, unless it was her own, she accepted.

Ever since that month, preparations had started. The entire empire had been invited to the celebration. Ansem didn’t care about the common folk more than the average noble. It was just... He wouldn’t allow anyone in the kingdom to feel down on the day of his life.

So for the past week, Azthros had been in uproar as celebrations happened everywhere. The imperial family opened a vault to satisfy the prince’s desires, and for that week, alcohol and food flowed from the capital without stopping, as the colosseums organized their best death matches. For that month, and until the end of the prince’s honeymoon, things like funerals and mourning were illegal.

For this month of joy, the prince had even asked the king to pause the collection of taxes and spread the news to the edges of the empire. This had annoyed many people in the court and even the emperor had opposed it for a while, even though he had acceded to other extravagant demands from his son. Still, in the end, he caved.

This made all the citizens of Azthros chant his name, songs were written to his extravagance, and children were named after him. Even those with deads, couldn’t help but rejoice stocking up on free food and drowning their sadness in alcohol.

Orion laughed as he heard the stories.

“What was not my surprise when coming back to my estates, I heard the uproar.” He grit his teeth. “They were more vocal about your marriage than my return.”

As he spoke, a rumble settled in his already low voice.

“I barely rested as I rushed here from Zabar…”

“I knew you’d make it.”

“I knew you’d make it,” the giant repeated sarcastically, “my ass, I came here to kill you, you, traitor.”

“Is it wise, to threaten the young emperor?” the prince snickered.

“Fuck off,” Orion deflected, as if this was nothing, “You’re getting married and you don’t even send me an invite?”

“Oh, I thought we were closer than that,” the prince said. This time it was his turn to fake betrayal. “Do I need to send an invite to family?”

“Tch,” Orion said clicking his tongue, at the prince’s glib one. “as long as you give me good alcohol, it’s forgiven.”

The prince waved away the problem, his eyes trailing back to the sky, waiting. “Whatever, whatever, just tell me which bottle you want and you can have it.”

Orion’s smile turned devious. “Well if you say that, then I heard you have a few bottles of Cavendish…”

The prince head snapped back. “That’s extortion!”

“Just tell me which bottle…” Orion repeated.

And just like that they argued back and forth, and had fun before the marriage was to happen.

That same night.

The ceremony had already started, the young emperor had adorned himself of his best clothes. He wore a ceremonial blue vest ornate with the gold embroideries of the Stormbringer highlighting the satin reflections of the cyan blue from the left chest to the end of the left sleeves cuff. On both shoulders, golden epaulets draped with golden braids falling on the exterior of his arms.

He had a small cape of sort, connecting from the extremities of the shoulder and joining in the center of his back, drawing an inverted fleur-de-lys shape.

Besides these ornaments, the remainder of his clothing were relatively tame in such a way that despite the top’s extravagance, the ensemble looked balanced, tasteful.

All the ornaments around his shoulders and on his bust, brought all the focus to his face. Ansem Stormbringer, was born with everything. Nobility, wits, potential, and beauty.

He was handsome to a fault, and that beauty wasn’t smeared by the nose ring connected to his ear that he was to wear on the day of his marriage, that conspicuous nose ring the symbol of their family guardian god, Aztak the Brilliance.

In that moment, he truly looked like a god, like his avatar. As the three moons kissed him with their light, his hair shone like an hallow. He stood there his spirit in La-la land as the priest read ceremonial nonsenses and promises to uphold.

Despite the fact the prince had wanted the entire empire to be in festivities, those who had been invited numbered less than a hundred, which while not a small amount, was surprising for the extravagance he had displayed.

He had made the marriage small at the wishes of Solana. As a result, those invited were mostly friends on her side of the family, and a few people that Ansem desired in his inside group. Obviously, there were a few people he didn’t invite, their presence a given.

Orion, of his true name Orario Slak-Trytalis, today attending the venue as his best man.

Finally shutting down the priestly buzzes, his beloved entered the room. Accompanied by a few maids, whom faces wore masks of happiness. These people were of lower birth, and wouldn’t dare show their faces in the courtroom. Not today.

Ansem didn’t even notice them, his eyes glued to the figure of his beloved, to her face veiled by a thin satin cloth. As he saw her enter, despite him he smiled. Unbecoming, this was unbecoming, the emperor was to be stoic, to be an unmovable rock, to be…

What did it matter, his smile stretched all the way to his ears as he lost himself in the moment.

If people saw him as a god, he felt like a goddess had just entered the room.

He couldn’t see her face—no one could—but her stunning white and red dress captivated him. On her chest, was fresh fleur-de-lys—the floral emblem of the Stormbringers. Everyone understood the implications.

Soon enough, she stepped on the stage, led there by Solus Swordmeister, a grim old man with the same green eyes and a stern face; this man was his faster. Ansem chuckled in his head, this was the happiest Ansem had ever seen him.

He excused himself from the stage, his gait overflowing with dignity.

She approached him, bringing with her an entrancing aroma of peaches and rose. He swallowed his saliva. In a few minutes, he would see her face and they’d have their first kiss.

Before then, there were the readings and then her vows. They had two readers each, Orario was obviously one, and the second was the emperor as for Solana, hers were Solus, and her older sister Soldara.

While he waited for them to end their readings, he smiled. He had nothing but affection for the different parties, but in this moment he wished he could shut them all up and jump to the kiss.

Minutes flew by as he lost himself in her eyes and perfume, his mind swallowed by phantasms. And after the priests said other things which Ansem ignored, it was time for her vows. His eyes were glued on her, looking forward to the moment he’d remove the veil.

As the man, providing, support and treating her well was expected. In fact, if words got out that he had dishonored her, even as the young emperor, he would be stoned. As such, vows were how women demonstrated their intelligence and their way with words.

Her vows were not anything special from his experience—no matter—she was the one uttering them… to him. His heart fluttered, preparing to jump out of his chest.

She finished her vows with, “… I promise to always love you, even in the face of death itself, I will love you.”

After that, the invitees stood up and clapped. Where they happy for the married? Oh for sure, good for them they all thought. Still, many were much more self-interested, the union between Stormbringer and Swordmeister? That was enough to make everyone present smile.

The priest gave his blessing, everyone gave theirs, no one present would dare oppose the union.

He approached, and lifted the veil off his beloved’s face. There she was looking as stunning, no even more stunning than he could have imagined, and as he approached to kiss her, he felt a weird stir in his stomach.

He tried to ignore it, but suddenly a pull, a pull drafted him upwards. No one could oppose their union, besides a god, perhaps.

The crowd all stood shocked, and Solana looked up. “Uh? What’s happening!” he said as he saw everything he had desired shrink to a dot. The young prince shot into the sky, and before anyone could react, he vanished. Leaving this plane as if it had never existed, the last thing he saw as this world disappeared was his beloved’s frightened face and a bolt of thunder striking where he used to stand.