It was a special observance. Four humans stood at the front of the sanctuary. Garren, flanked by Aiden and several others, stood behind the pulpit. They were clothed in black, save the thick red cloaks that hung at their shoulders. Tadraem led the evening prayer and then summoned the Ereubinians who were to participate in the ceremony. Garren walked out with Aiden, the other two Ereubinians following on the opposite side. They faced Tadraem from behind the Breeders.
A young Ereubinian boy, carrying an armful of white robes, walked up to Garren and handed him one. He did the same with the remaining three. Tadraem walked around to Aiden, after instructing the humans to turn around, and began to dedicate a human to him.
This had always been a curious ceremony to Garren. It was a high honor. He could feel the excitement swell in his chest. He watched as Tadraem took a small blade, the same one that was traditionally used in sacrifices, and held it to the girl's throat. He let it hover there for a moment, then gently sliced the skin, just enough for a drop of blood to form on the surface of her flesh. This was to signify that she had been saved for the noble purpose of continuing the lineage.
Garren was happy with his choice of a vessel for Aiden. While he didn't owe Aiden an apology, he didn't carry any malice toward him, either. He'd aided Garren in his victory and deserved rewards. The vessel he'd chose was one of the more attractive girls he'd seen recently. She was tall, with long blonde hair and tan skin. He'd been told that her name was Sara.
As Tadraem repeated the tradition with each couple, he robed the human in white, signifying the Ereubinian's ownership of the breeder. He finally came to Garren and Cadence. He did something that surprised Garren. Instead of dedicating her himself, as he'd done with all the others, he held the blade out for Garren to take.
"My Lord, I believe it is fitting for you to make this dedication, as it is your will that now determines her life and death." Tadraem pushed the blade closer toward him. Garren slowly reached out, taking it in his hands. It seemed an unusual thing for Tadraem to have done, but having never been through the ceremony himself he couldn't readily correlate the High Priest's actions with malevolence. He turned his attention back toward Cadence. Her eyes were deep, colorless wells. They reminded him a bit of the Laionai, and it made him wonder if the Laionai had souls. Or if they, too, were simply slaves to another's will. As the thoughts passed through his mind, Garren shuddered. Sacrilege. How could he even conceive such things in a house of worship?
He took the knife and placed it across the smooth skin of her neck. He could see a reflection of the candles burning. He began to recite the prayer of dedication.
"Mani suche dost nousmaede…" As the words sounded in the air, he kept his focus on the tip of the knife, fearful of bearing down too deep and ending her. He watched the flickering of the tiny orange and red flames dancing in the distance.
"Lio treksthis mordoutai…" his hand began to shake. He couldn't take his eyes away, nor could he finish his sentence. A clear image of the Adorian girl shone where Cadence's reflection should have been. There was no missing the fire in her hair or the ice in her blue eyes. He breathed slowly and steadily, reigning in his alarm. This was not the place to be haunted by such apparitions.
He continued speaking aloud the prayer, careful to make it appear as though he'd merely been reverent in his sudden silence. He finished pulling the knife across her neck, and held it down at his side. Tadraem took the cloak from his hands and placed it around Cadence's shoulders, pulling the hood over her head, as he'd done with the others. Garren barely listened as Tadraem ended the ceremony. The congregation then knelt, reciting prayers of thanksgiving to Ciara.
Garren stayed still as the others exited the sanctuary. The ceremony had taken a little over an hour, but it felt like mere minutes to him. After everyone had left the sanctuary, Tadraem came to Garren, who was still standing silently in front of Cadence. "My Lord, are you ill? Shall I call for someone?"
Garren shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest. He hoped his words would not reveal how out of breath he was.
"I'm simply overwhelmed with anticipation – honored to receive such a blessing." Tadraem didn't show any doubt in his expression, but instead smiled and gestured for Garren to leave with his new bride. Garren started to move, but felt his knees go weak beneath him. He leaned over to the railing behind him. "I think we will stay here for a time, to thank the Goddess for her generosity."
Tadraem seemed pleased with this answer and turned to leave them alone.
Garren knelt at the altar. His hands shook as he clasped them tightly together. He motioned for Cadence to kneel with him. He closed his eyes and began to pray. His whole body ached, sore from the tensions of the past few days, every muscle stretched taut along his bones. His head pounded and his skin felt cool and clammy. He was both angry and terrified. Nothing had ever felt beyond his control, and this was something that not only could he not command, he couldn't even begin to understand it. This was a night he was supposed to relish, and yet he was on his knees, begging for mercy. He became unaware of the words that were flowing past his lips, his prayers becoming fluid as they formed in his head. It was almost as if he'd fallen asleep, because he came to with a firm hand on his shoulder.
"What form of desecration is this?" The hand jerked him backwards, and Garren hit the floor on his side. He looked up to see Tadraem, who'd leaned down to face him. "What blasphemy do you speak?"
Garren jumped to his feet, drawing his sword. "Have you caught Aiden's sickness or have you just gone mad?"
Tadraem looked back at him, shocked. "Garren, you cannot feign that you are unaware of what just came from your own mouth." Garren looked at him doubtfully, not responding. "You were speaking in Adorian!"
"No Ereubinian has the ability to form the words! Do you think to make up lies about me as you did my father?"
Tadraem reached out to push the blade away from where Garren had it pointed at his chest. "Garren, my Lord, I have no reason to be dishonest with you. I speak the truth – Adorian speech just passed your lips."
"This is certainly a virgin manner of deception. First Aiden, and now you? Don't mistake my allegiances."
Tadraem started to respond, his hand rising in the air in a show of dispute, when he withdrew it suddenly, cradling it against his chest. He howled in pain, shrinking back from Garren to collapse into a pew a short distance from the altar.
Garren walked up to him and peered down, watching Tadraem as he shook with pain. He thought then of his father and the demise that Tadraem had arranged for him.
"Please, my Lord." Tadraem begged.
"Surely, you don't expect me to have pity for you? I believe your words were that you would do the same. So, I suppose you do speak the truth. Don't cross me or you will regret it."
Tadraem's cries subsided and he sat quietly as he rubbed his hand. Though there was no hint of discomfort any longer, the memory of it would without question last. Garren took one good look at his former mentor before turning to leave the sanctuary, studying the eyes that he'd once held as wise and prudent, the hands that had instructed him. He gazed at the man he'd once revered like a father and found him a stranger.
Garren entered his chambers with Cadence behind him. Humans were never allowed to live alongside Ereubinians; this would be the only night that she'd be permitted to be in his room. She would be remanded to the other side of the wall for everything except observance.
He walked over to the window and opened the glass pane. Cold air spilled into the room. He breathed in deeply, his chest having tightened again as he made his way from the sanctuary. He paused there a second before turning around and finding Cadence unclothed, standing wordless in the center of the room. He didn't say anything to her as he tried to unravel his emotions.
"I am yours, my Lord. What is it that you wish from me?" Her face was turned toward his, her eyes trained on him, but she was not looking at him. She was looking through him. She was soft on the eyes, flawless in every physical way, yet seeing her so vulnerable made him feel disquieted.
"I wish for you to clothe yourself."
She had a slight hint of displeasure on her face, though it was subtle at best, merely an echo of what she would've once been able to express, perhaps. "Have I done something wrong, I do not…"
He interrupted her. "You've done nothing wrong. Do as I ask." She nodded and redressed. He walked over to the bed and pulled down the sheets. Humans, on their wedding night, slept in the small, unadorned keeping room that accompanied each main chamber. He started to undress himself, tired from the day, when he stopped. He glanced back at his bed, then again at Cadence. The smaller room would be much colder. A picture passed through his mind of how chilled the air had been the first night after the siege, how cold the Adorian girl must have been. He slammed his fist on the wall behind the headboard, having grown tired of seeing such reminders. Cadence jumped as his fist smacked against the bare stone of the wall.
"I'm sorry." Garren walked toward her. He almost expected her to shy away from him, but she made no motion. Perhaps it had been instinct. "You will sleep here tonight, I will stay in the outer room." She gave no response. He watched her move to the bed and lie down, pulling the covers around her neck.
Garren pushed open the door to the other room. There was indeed a cold draft, as he'd suspected. He shivered a bit and pulled his cloak tighter. There was a simple bed, with a wool blanket and a washstand that supported a large empty basin for water. He approached the bed and picked up the blanket. He hadn't been in this room in a long time; dust had settled heavily. He should've known to ready this room as soon as he'd been told that he would wed. He shook the blanket out and wrapped it around himself as he lay on the mattress.
He lay awake for some time. Just days ago, he would have disregarded any hint of sympathy for a human, yet here he was, undoubtedly distressed over being unable to be fully a part of this night. He'd waited so long for this – what was the cause of this unrelenting doubt? It infuriated him that Tadraem would make such wild accusations and yet a sliver of fear crept into his consciousness that Tadraem had been telling the truth. He could think of no reason for Tadraem to lie to him. Garren didn't completely trust him, but it wouldn't benefit Tadraem for Garren to fall from power. Either Jules or Aiden would be in line now that Tadraem had accepted the lifelong calling of High Priest. Neither of his two probable successors regarded Tadraem with much loyalty, though he'd begun to question Aiden's loyalties all together.
It was bewitchment – there was simply no other explanation. The girl was using whatever power had persuaded him to release her to also ensnare his emotions. There was no logical justification for him to care anything about whether an Adorian or a human lived or died. There was no moral reason; Ereubinians were the only ones of true blood. He wished his father were alive. It would be great comfort to be able to speak with him and clear up any misgivings surrounding the last battle.
He had a fleeting thought of trusting Aiden with what he'd discovered about his father, before it crossed his mind that Aiden wouldn't be able to reply. He thought of all the times he and Aiden had exchanged jokes.
Garren finally felt his eyelids grow heavy. He was apprehensive of sleep, the dream from days before still haunting him. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of the Adorian girl and to have things as they once were. Yet, each time he saw her, he was overwhelmed with the same sentiment that held him captive in the woods. He couldn't harm her, he could barely maintain the ability to speak in her presence, let alone relieve himself of her encumbrance from afar.