On the way to Laurdy's house, he was completely at peace on her shoulder, his breathing steady and slow as the carriage rocked rhythmically along the winding mountain path. As the carriage was heading towards the massive stone house looming on the horizon, she woke him up gently, brushing a stray lock of dark hair from his forehead, and tapped his back with a tender, reassuring touch.
She told him they will be arriving soon, her voice low so as not to startle him from his rare moment of vulnerability. They need to prepare themselves for the next step for them to be recognized by his family, a hurdle that felt far more daunting than the public wedding ceremony they had just left behind.
In the Laurdy's manor, the families and their entire ancient bloodline are waiting anxiously in the darkening courtyard. The elders will give them blessings and express their sovereign will for the two of them, sealing their union under the laws of the estate. It is a symbolic ritual that has been passed down from generation to generation of the house of Laurdy, an unbreakable tradition woven into the very fabric of their history. Each child of the bloodline that will get married has to go through it without exception, a trial by fire before they can truly be called a Laurdy. It symbolizes the family's guidance for the new branch of their family, ensuring the lineage remains strong and unified.
The ritual is multifaceted, encompassing an offering, sending off goodwill, the official division of inheritance, the granting of ancestral rights, and absolute legal recognition within the clan. She doesn't expect much of what the wealthy family will give them, detached from the greed that often plagued the people of Bial. A piece of land and a small house would be more than enough for her, a modest sanctuary far away from the suffocating politics of the manor. She simply desired a place for her to grow and to have her peace, a quiet home where she could cultivate her new reality and build a beautiful memory that they will share for the rest of their lives.
The carriage stops in the distance, the iron wheels grinding to a halt on the gravel driveway. He then goes out to the carriage first, stepping down into the cool evening air and turning back, extending a gloved hand as he waited for her. She then grabs his hand, stepping down onto the stone path, and stands firmly by his side, smoothing down the creases of her white silk gown.
In the distance, right before the grand iron gates of the estate, there is a brilliant golden light flickering against the approaching darkness. She saw fifteen elder people standing in a perfect, rigid semicircle in front of his family manor, their faces obscured by the shadows. Aiden's mother is standing at the true center, carrying the golden lights in a heavy, ceremonial brazier that cast long, dancing shadows across the lawn.
It was civil twilight, the magical hour where the world bleeds into shades of indigo and violet, and the landscape of the beautiful horizon could be seen vividly at the back of the manor, framing the stone towers in a bleeding purple sky. The golden light shines brightly across the grass, cutting through the dusk, and guides the two people to walk towards it.
Before they take their first step together, he then kneels in front of her on the damp grass, looking up at her with an intensity that steals the breath from her lungs. "May the blessings of my family be with us," he murmured, his voice a solemn vow. He gently kisses her hands, his lips lingering on her skin. For a fleeting second, she sees his eyes glow brighter than the fireflies around them, a sudden flash of that latent, overwhelming power hiding just beneath his dark exterior.
The two of them rise and begin to walk towards the manor, their fingers tightly intertwined. Thousands of tiny fireflies emerge from the surrounding woods, swarming around them in a living constellation, acting as a natural escort that guides them towards the golden light of the elders. As they keep walking, the sun is slowly setting below the jagged peaks of the mountains, and the moon starts glowing in the night sky, casting a silver sheen over her wedding veil.
The low blow of the wind carries the distinct warmth of autumn, rustling through the ancient trees that border the estate. The golden leaves are falling around them like a shower of coins, and the absolute silence of the valley is the only music in the air, a quiet melody of nature celebrating their approach.
The two of them stop exactly fifteen steps away from the waiting family, a boundary dictated by ancient law. One step for each of them, a representation of the fifteen elders who hold the authority of the house. Recognizing their arrival, his mother walks towards them alone, leaving the semicircle, and stops at the exact middle of the distance between the couple and the elders.
The ceremony is officially starting. The children of the estate have been dancing in the middle for the past fifteen minutes, their small feet moving in intricate, traditional patterns across the stone courtyard, weaving ribbons of white and gold. Suddenly, the elders then stamped their heavy wooden canes against the cobblestones in perfect unison, the thunderous crack echoing off the manor walls and making the entire place fall into total silence. The children instantly vanish into the shadows of the porch.
The two of them in the distance kneel together on the hard ground, bowing their heads fifteen times until their foreheads almost touch the earth, offering a bow for each elder present. Then, the elders start chanting an ancient, low-toned song from where they are standing, their voices blending into a deep, guttural drone that vibrates through the valley. The rhythmic sounds from their canes hitting the stone are in perfect sync, creating a haunting, beautiful melody offering their blessings and destiny for them.
As the chant reaches its peak, the golden lights in his mother's brazier are slowly vanishing, burning down to embers until they are completely gone. The moon is now the only source of illumination, giving them light from above, turning the courtyard into a landscape of stark silver and deep black shadows.
Even though her head is held low on the ground in a posture of submission, she can feel their dark blue eyes glowing in the dark, fifteen pairs of midnight-blue eyes staring down at her with a chilling, unnatural brilliance. The sheer intensity of their collective gaze makes her spine shiver, a primal reaction to the volatile bloodline she has married into; she feels it deep in her bones, an icy pressure that demands respect. It is a terrifying sight, yet a beauty that strangely resembles the star-filled sky above them.
The grueling ritual lasts for two grueling hours outside the manor, the chanting and the stamping of canes echoing continuously under the moon, cementing Kelly's place within the house of Laurdy.