Cataclysm War | Chapter 67: Hallelujah (First Draft)

Saturday, August 6, 4 S.E.

Thirty minutes later, Leonidas stood in a filled venue, his hands clasped behind him, silently, as Bardulf and Parnym lingered at his side. He and Aylar had elected to have two accompany them each, and no more, to avoid overloading the ceremony. Bardulf and Parnym were both dressed in matching black suits, cut in Alteran style, with bowties that the Shadowblade seemed to find hilarious.

A sea of faces observed him where he stood, and Leonidas recognized more than a few of the Haelfenn that watched him in silence, their eyes moving from him to the full Lance of Royal Guards in attendance with tight gazes. That only engendered amusement in Leonidas, who had already quietly remarked about their impotence to Bardulf.

“Relax, Achilles,” the Shadowblade had whispered back, voice hidden by the small persistence of chatter in the Cathedral, “if no one wants you dead when marrying a Queen, is it even a real marriage?”

That had drawn an odd look from Leonidas, but Parnym had nodded in sage agreement, and he’d been forced to accept the logic as he returned to observing the crowd. Every Haelfenn noble in Dawnhaven was represented, as well as the Coalition delegates, a number of Terran merchants, and a surprising number of Alteran nobles and adventurers of note that had received invitations.

Multiple ranking Dawnguard and Duskguard officers were present, along with almost the entire leadership of the Royal Army, resplendent in their dress uniforms. Those Haelfenn, at least, appeared markedly more at ease than the rest—many of them had already given him nods of support when they’d sat down, signifying the Army, at least, was largely on board with his pending nuptials. That was something to be happy about, if nothing else.

Both Count and Baron Cartellis were present, though the Count was accompanied by a red-eyed Svartfar instead of his crippled daughter—one who alternated between watching him and observing the interior, with what looked like tacit disapproval. Hardly expected, but he almost wished she’d been better about hiding her distaste for the Terran religious observation.

Baron Cartellis, conversely, was staring at Leonidas with his jaw locked and hatred burning in his eyes, though Leonidas studiously ignored the Haelfar. He would handle that problem in due course; there was no point in dwelling on it during his wedding day.

Someone objecting to the union was not a risk he’d failed to consider, though the nervous glances more than one person had already given Ceruviel were enough to settle his fears on the matter. The Duchess may have been wearing a dress, but he doubted anyone was going to act out when the Last Archon of Altera was sitting in prime position to thoroughly eviscerate the perpetrator.

Leonidas’ eyes drifted to his parents, and he saw both of them craning their necks to peer out at the people with shared looks of glee, murmuring excitedly about what he could charitably guess was something nerdy or otherwise dorky relating to the rampant amounts of non-humans within the cathedral. For his parents, obsessed as they were with fantasy, this was probably heaven.

His gaze drifted to the upper level after that, and he noted the golden sentinels of the Royal Guard Dagger above, backs to him as they observed the people watching from the top floor, while two more Daggers flanked the pews below, one per two rows, and the final Dagger of his assigned Lance held position near the Altar itself.

A Second Lance remained outside, guarding the various entrances, while coordinating overarching security with the Dawnguard and Duskguard forces assigned to assist them. The Dusk-Lord and Dawn-Lord had both made it clear that no security breaches would be tolerated, and Uriel Aventus, overseeing matters himself, had everyone on their best behavior.

The nobles, especially, may have been more wary of Ceruviel—but because of it, the idea of earning Uriel’s wrath was thrice as compelling a reason to behave.

His eyes drifted as the minutes passed, and he quietly went over the vows he’d rehearsed in his mind, reminding himself of their contents and importance as he awaited the moment to come.

He thought about the first time he’d met Aylar, seeing the ghost of Lyara, and watching her humor fade as she detected the distance and separation he enforced between them by his own actions. He remembered her face during and after his Tribulation, and the moments they’d had following it.

He remembered the trial, the visions of possible futures, and the surety of love he’d felt for her—even when their marriage had failed in the second arch.

His thoughts drifted to the night before, to the quiet promise they’d made about grief and trauma, and he felt his lips curve into a smile. If he’d ever doubted he was making the right decision, the night before their wedding had cemented the truth in his mind, and Leonidas no longer had doubts left. Fears, worries, anxieties, concerns—all of those, yes, but no doubts. Not any longer.

So it was that when the crowd’s roar outside the church hit a fever pitch, and more than a few heads turned toward the entrance, Leonidas straightened in silent expectation. His eyes met Ceruviel’s, and the Duchess simply nodded to him once, in certainty. The reinforcement was invaluable as he looked toward his parents, who beamed at him with naked joy before turning to look at the entrance.

Leonidas moved his own gaze there when the first of the bridal party entered.

Synthra came first, wearing a sweeping scarlet dress inlaid with golden filigree in what Leonidas was coming to understand as her ‘style’. Her hair had been done in an elegant, intentionally messy bun, and her horns seemed to have been polished for the occasion.

The Quarter-Dragon Sorceress towered as she walked, drawing stunned gazes from the audience as her dress train drew along behind her, and she moved to take her place next to the altar opposite Bardulf, standing one step down from where Aylar would be with her maid bouquet gripped tightly.

Her gaze met Leonidas’ as he looked at her, and Synthra blushed faintly before looking away, her gaze locking firmly on the entrance. Leonidas smiled slightly despite himself and turned as well, watching for who he knew would come next.

Kairi, at Aylar’s insistence as her future sister-in-law, came second, adorned in an elegant blue gown that flared at her hips, covering the tattoos on her arms down to her wrists with sleeves that ended at her biceps, leaving her marked shoulders and collarbone bare as she walked.

His sister looked faintly flushed with embarrassment and nervousness both, but she moved with the easy grace of her Elite rank Tempering, and Leonidas caught more than a few approving pairs of eyes among the audience, much to his brotherly irritation. He wanted to snarl at them for staring at his baby sister, but forced himself to remain peaceable and calm.

Kairi grinned at him faintly, sticking out her tongue a little as she passed the front row and took her place beside Synthra, on the lowest step toward the altar, with her small bouquet in hand as well. 

Leonidas smiled wryly at his younger sibling and turned back to the entrance.

At the same time, by unspoken signal, the music finally began.

The song has been chosen with intent: a slowed-down piano rendition of ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen, rather than the usual bridal march. It had been Leonidas’ choice.

When Aylar entered the church doors, he felt his heart skip a beat in his breast.

“I’ve heard there was a secret chord,

That David played and it pleased the Lord…”

Light poured in behind her, a radiant cascade of gold and morning sun that framed her silhouette and reflected the Light in her Core. For a single moment, she stood outlined against it—tall, luminous, ethereally perfect—before stepping forward into the Cathedral’s candelit glow.

The crowd rose as one, as they had been bade, watching her in awed silence.

“But you don’t really care for music, do you?”

Her gown was white, as befitting a wedding, but far more than that alone. It shimmered with ornate depth, layered silks and satin worked through with intricate gold filigree that traced her curvaceous body in elegant patterns. Red gemstones were set carefully along the bodice and waist, catching the light with each measured step, reflecting the chandeliers and dancing radiance across the interior of the church.

“The minor fall,”

The dress flowed outward, falling from her hips in soft, graceful folds, its train whispering above the stone as Sonya walked behind her, carefully holding it in her hands and adorned in a beautiful purple dress of her own. A bouquet was held in his bride’s hands, tri-colored, and thick with magically preserved flowers.

“The major lift,”

Golden-blonde hair cascaded freely down Aylar’s back in elegant waves, shimmering with radiance beneath the Cathedral’s chandeliers. A golden crown rested upon her brow—just edging toward the end of propriety in its size, wrought thin and elegant, and set with crimson gems that mirrored those inlaid across her gown. Beneath it, her pointed Haelfar ears peeked through her hair—demonstrating her Alteran lineage with pride rather than concealment.

“The baffled King composing ‘Hallelujah’…”

Jewelry was scarce upon her, showing restraint befitting a Queen: a filigreed necklace set with a central red gem, matching earrings that swayed gently as she moved, and fine, lightweight golden chains that accented her waist. It was a pointed lack of ostentation, choosing elegance over gaudy indulgence.

“Hallelujah.”

Aylar’s azure eyes lifted as she crossed the threshold fully, and when they found Leonidas, the world seemed to narrow until nothing else existed, and his lips curled into a quiet smile. The murmurs of the Cathedral faded. The watching nobles vanished. Even the presence of the Royal Guard dissolved beneath the gravity of her gaze.

There was warmth there. Affection. Adoration, even.

And trepidation mixed with excitement. Just like him.

“Hallelujah.”

Petals drifted softly from above, tossed by carefully selected aides as she advanced down the aisle, pale white roses fluttering through the light to settle at her feet. Each step she took was measured, graceful, and calm—confident with ease of self-certainty. This was not a girl being given away. This was not a woman walking to an unwelcome fate.

This was a Queen, hale and whole, walking toward the man she had chosen.

Leonidas realized dimly that his hands were trembling, and he folded them behind him to hide it, feeling his heart thunder in his chest.

The Monarch approaching him had faced monsters, politics, betrayal, war, and destiny itself—yet, despite all of it, she still stood radiant; unbowed and unafraid. She carried the weight of her deeds and the expectations of her people—new and old—as naturally as she carried the crown upon her head.

“Hallelujah.”

As she drew closer, he saw the faint smile curve her lips—girlish, shy, and excited all at once. There was the same adoration there, mixed with sheer disbelief at what was happening—disbelief he shared. Her eyes flicked to Synthra, and the redhead grinned back at her, blushing faintly, before Aylar turned back to Leonidas. The authority she wore as Queen softened when she did, revealing the woman beneath the crown entirely.

Aylar Taleria Lux Fortuna Eldormer.

His Queen.

His partner.

His future.

“Hallelujah.”

When she reached the altar and took her place before him, the music softened, the final notes echoing distantly through the Cathedral’s vaulted ceiling.

Leonidas felt himself release a ragged breath as he watched her take her place beside him, watched Sonya step aside to keep holding her train with fierce focus, and watched Aylar meet his eyes, her bouquet of red, white, and blue roses carefully chosen for the moment. A quiet nod to what had been.

“You look beautiful,” Leonidas whispered, staring into her eyes as her pale cheeks flared with heat at the compliment.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her mouth quirked faintly into a smile. “You look incredibly handsome.”

“Before you, I feel like a beggar,” he murmured, and Aylar’s eyes glimmered with mirth as, together, they turned to face Father Witticker. Leonidas extended his left hand to take Aylar’s right, and the pair of them knelt on the velvet stools provided, as the rest of the onlookers took their seats.

“People of Dawnhaven,” the Priest began in English after a moment, his voice carrying powerfully through the Cathedral. “We are here today to celebrate the union between Earl Leonidas Achilles Romulus Paendrag, First Archon of Terran Blood, and Black Knight of Dawnhaven, with Her Royal Majesty, Queen-Incumbent Aylar Taleria Lux Fortuna Eldormer, Swordmaiden of Altera, Radiant Light of Dawnhaven, Trueborn Daughter of the Millennium High Kingdom.”

Leonidas arched his eyebrow at that last part and glanced at Aylar, who winked at him subtly, and set aside his worries. She must have had her reasons, and he refocused on Father Witticker as the man continued.

“Oftentimes, such ceremonies are rife with ostentation and formality, bereft of innocence and the power of love. Not so this one. By the request of the Queen-Incumbent and future King—” that caused a small stir, but Leonidas ignored it as Aylar squeezed his hand in reassurance “—I will instead only say that I, as a representative of one among many Terran Faiths, do hereby implore the blessings of the Lord God upon this marriage, that I implore the Grace and the Glory of the Creator to find and shelter these two, and offer them the purity and peace that marriage must bring.”

Father Witticker looked down at them, and Leonidas thought he saw a sly smile on the older Priest’s lips.

“I will further say that I, as a native son of Terra, celebrate this most righteous joining of the old world and the new, and wish to these most holy souls a future of great and wondrous prosperity—for them, and all that hold them in their hearts, as the true and proper rulers of this budding nation.”

The Priest’s voice firmed as he continued, looking out at the gathered people.

“For too long have division and strife rocked us, separated us, and impugned injustice for all sides in this strange new world. For too long have we failed to understand that our differences are what embolden us, and allowed the Devil’s evil to penetrate where righteous Grace should instead hold sway. With this union, between Terran and Alteran, it is my great hope that we see a revelation of unending cooperation between all of God’s children, no matter their world of origin.”

Leonidas and Aylar both blinked at that, but did not object to the unexpected change.

The Priest returned his gaze to Aylar and Leonidas, instead, and his smile was warm.

“Marriage is a great and holy privilege, especially marriage that defies the very boundaries of time and space, to bring two such souls together in its embrace. In the two of you, my son, my daughter, I see the Grace of the Lord our God in your union, and the hope that the dark days may at last stand behind us. I see youthful hope, and the wisdom of aeons from two different worlds, nestled in the capable grasp of our now and future rulers.”

Finally, the Priest reached out, took their hands, and bid them to stand.

“And now, I am given to understand you have prepared vows?”

Leonidas and Aylar nodded in tandem, and he could feel the same surprise—not unpleasant—in the Swordmaiden as they stood, her using his supporting arm as leverage to rise without destroying her dress as they stood on the altar steps and faced one another.

John walked toward them down the aisle when they did, stopping in front of them with a royal purple pillow upon which the platinum-edged golden bands they would wear rested, and knelt as ceremony dictated to offer them the pillow. Leonidas could feel his nervousness and winked at the younger man as Aylar passed her bouquet to Synthra, before both the Queen’s hands found his.

His eyes searched his bride’s for several long moments before he spoke.

He wanted to get it absolutely correct this time, not like his proposal.

“Aylar,” he began in a calm voice, carrying across the interior. “The time I have known you feels like an eternity, compressed into a single month. In that time, I have felt a draw, magnetic and impossible to deny, that I have never felt before in my life. Your warmth, your grace, your immense heart, and the love with which you seek to elevate every person under your care. I have never met someone so kind, so selfless, so ready to sacrifice even her own life to ensure the prosperity of all her people.”

Leonidas searched her gaze as she smiled at him, and her cheeks flushed faintly with happiness.

“I have been many things in my life, Aylar,” he said without expressly mentioning Elatra, “but never have I been truly sure of something. Today, in this place, I can say that my days of that lack are finally ended. If there is nothing else in this world that I am sure of, Aylar, rest assured that you are the single point of certainty in my life.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he spoke, understanding the hidden meaning behind what he said, and Leonidas smiled at her reassuringly.

“It is my privilege, and my honor, to love you until the end of my days, and do so in full awareness of how unbelievably blessed I am to be able to do so. No amount of time with you will ever be enough, but we can at least start with forever.”

His eyes moved to the left, and he reached out, taking the smaller of the two rings and returning his attention to Aylar as he lifted her left hand in his right, sliding the platinum-edged golden band onto her ring finger with his left. His eyes rose when he did, and he felt his heart smashing against his chest as he put the mark of their marriage onto her finger.

When he was done, it was her turn.

The Queen did not wait longer than a second.

“Leonidas,” she said to him quietly, her ethereal, musical voice echoing within the church. “There have seldom been times in my life when I am inclined toward certainty. Rarer are the moments where that certainty is not attacked by doubt or second-guessing trepidation. Standing with you, here, now, in this lovely place, I have never been more certain of anything in this world, or my last.”

Her hands tightened on his, and her lips trembled for a moment before she took a breath and continued in a steady voice.

“There are no words that can describe what we have, Leonidas. There are no poems, no odes, no rhymes or reasons that can put into words the truth of my feelings for you. There are no promises I can make, no oaths I can swear, and no assurances I can make that will encompass one tenth of what you mean to me. You are my sword, my shield, my pillar, my refuge, and the lighthouse in the darkness, welcoming me home each and every moment of every day and night.”

Leonidas felt his throat tighten at her words, reminding him faintly of something else, somewhere else, but in a way that he was at peace with. The issues with his correlation were in the past, and he knew, with utmost certainty, whom he was marrying.

“In taking you as my husband, Leonidas, I can promise you but three things. First, I will always love you more than I love anything else in this world or any other. Two, I will always remain loyal to you, above any other individual in existence. Three, I will always demand footrubs when I am grumpy, no matter what.”

The last line drew laughter from the audience, even some of the Haelfenn, and Leonidas grinned at Aylar when she smirked.

“And in the end, Leonidas,” she said as the laughter subsided, “I give myself to you, wholly and fully, in this place of sacred Terran meaning, with a clear and unyielding message.”

Aylar held his hands, stepped back a step, and fell into a curtsy before anyone could do more than blink, drawing a palpable wave of shock from the onlookers of all species, one that persisted long after she straightened.

“I am your bride,” Aylar said as she straightened and stepped forward again, her voice carrying powerfully. “I will be your wife until final death does us part, and I will love you until there are no stars left in the heavens. You are my intended, my Champion, my future husband, and my Hero, my Captain, my King—from this day, until my last day.”

Leonidas stared at her in muted shock when she turned to John and calmly took the pillow from the ring, lifting his left hand and sliding the ring onto his finger with tempered strength. He was still trying to understand what had happened when she lifted his hand, kissed it, and then gently turned him to face Father Witticker again, her hand in his.

The Priest, either permanently unruffled or simply ignorant of exactly what she had done with her actions and pronouncement, spoke once more into the stunned silence of the Cathedral.

“With the vows complete, I will now move on to the final affirmations before God,” the Priest said, and reached out to take their joined hands in his, looking toward Leonidas, who met his gaze with a blink and reassertion of focus.

“Leonidas Achilles Romulus Paendrag, do you take Aylar Taleria Lux Fortuna Eldormer to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love and cherish her, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, for so long as you both shall live?”

Leonidas smiled faintly at the removal of the ‘exclusivity’ vow, likely Aylar’s doing, and dipped his head.

“I do, Father,” he said simply, squeezing his bride’s hand.

Father Witticker nodded his head and, with a smile, turned to Aylar.

“Aylar Taleria Lux Fortuna Eldormer, do you take Leonidas Achilles Romulus Paendrag to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, for so long as you both shall live?”

Aylar’s smile was radiant when Leonidas looked at her, and she looked at him.

“I do, Father,” she answered calmly, staring into his eyes with naked joy.

“Then, as is custom, I ask now if any stand present that have reason to object to the union of these two souls, under God and before all present witnesses.”

Aylar and Leonidas turned their eyes to the crowd, and as if by sheer happenstance, Ceruviel casually lifted slightly from her seat to adjust her dress, making herself clearly visible, before sitting and watching with a clear lack of intention to say a word. Leonidas very nearly laughed when she did, and he saw several nobles snap their eyes toward the Dusk-Lord’s action and purse their lips.

When ten seconds passed without a word, Leonidas and Aylar turned back to Witticker, and the Priest smiled at them warmly.

“Then with no objection, and in the name of the Lord our God, I do hereby and with pleasure pronounce you both husband and wife.”

His hands left theirs, and the Priest bowed his head.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Leonidas turned at the words, lowered his hands to Aylar’s hips, and pulled her against him as he crushed his lips to hers, shifting to turn her and bend her backward as he did, drawing out a laugh from his wife.

The applause and cheers that followed were deafening.