“I believe we were at the beginning,” I quipped, bringing a grin to both of our faces.
“The beginning,” she mused. “In Kaldan, marriage is a holy ceremony. It is traditionally performed in a cathedral, by a priest of the Unity Church. The specifics of the ceremony aren’t important right now, and I’m not sure I would be able to give you the most accurate accounting of them. It’s been a long time since our wedding.”
“Twenty-nine years,” Marten chimed in cautiously. “Twenty-nine lovely years.”
She nodded and gave him an appreciative smile. “It was one of the happiest days of my life. I can remember the feeling vividly, but the details of the day are...foggy, at best. We wore the traditional sash and vest in the Primals’ colors, and we gave our offerings to the eight Primes in the Blessing Rites. There was music, and singing, and...dancing?” Her eyes stared straight through me as she watched the past play out before her, and she laughed longingly. “Primes, we were so young.”
As she reminisced, I took the moment to reflect on the new information. Marriage traditions had a fascinating level of overlap between the worlds I had lived in: traditional formal attire, promises made before the various gods, and always a fair amount of revelry. While memories of my first life were fragmented and hard to draw upon, I knew I had attended multiple ceremonies that fit the description. Conversely, I had never attended a wedding in Hedaat, having avoided the topic entirely, but multiple visits to the city center had taken me past a wedding shop that prominently displayed garish dresses and gargantuan layered cakes in its front windows.
A smile spread across my face as my thoughts drifted to my own wedding in Alderea. Despite the lifetime of suffering that separated me from the ceremony, I could recall the smallest details with such clarity that they were practically visible around me.
I stood in the shadow of our favorite tree as the sun began to disappear beyond the horizon. Rastor stood to my right, his massive, muscled body somehow constrained within a suit coat and formal pants that were clearly multiple sizes too small. A hobbled old man stood to my left, holding a leather-bound tome that appeared to be as ancient as he was. A tiny pair of glasses wobbled on the bridge of his overshadowing nose as he deliberately thumbed through his book. Thick, white eyebrows threatened to completely obscure his sunken eyes, bobbing up and down as he scanned the pages before him.
My heart began to flutter wildly as the sound of wooden flutes floated out of a small tent at the bottom of the hill. The flaps were pulled aside from within, and I beheld Amaya in the most beautiful white dress I had ever seen. Her golden hair flowed back behind her shoulders in intricately adorned braids as she took a step forward. Our eyes met, and a vibrant smile spread across her face. A gust of wind blew across—
“Lux?” A gentle tap on my knee woke me from my daydreams, and I was suddenly back in the Corells’ wagon. “Lux,” Hana asked again, “are you alright?”
“Yes,” I answered apologetically, shaking away the memory. “I was just...remembering.”
She gave me a knowing smile. “Of course.”
“Thank you for the information,” I continued, “it’s been very helpful so far. I’m not sure when it will be useful, but it will be. Hopefully sooner rather than later.”
Her head tilted to the side, and she raised one eyebrow. “You don’t think we’re finished, do you?” She covered her mouth as she tried to stifle a giggle. “That was just the beginning. You still have a lot to learn.”
***
6. OLD FRIENDS
Our trip to Mayaan felt markedly different from our journey to the Mountain Gate. Without the constant threat of pursuit and the looming uncertainty of what we would find at our destination, the air within the wagon was permeated with relief and relaxation. We traveled at a significantly slower speed with plenty of long breaks to appreciate our beautiful surroundings and enjoy each other’s company. Lia and I took a long-overdue turn to drive the wagon on our second day of travel, savoring the chance to feel the wind on faces that were no longer on wanted posters. Our leisurely pace knocked us off track to reach Mayaan within two days, and we were forced to camp outside for an extra night.
Marten explained his plan for when we reached the city the following morning. “I’ve got an old merchant friend who lives in Mayaan,” he told us as we ate the last of our trail rations for dinner. “She moved there about...how long has it been, dear? Twelve years ago? Thirteen?”
“Thirteen,” Hana agreed. “I haven’t seen Elise in a long time.”
“Aunt Ellie!” Lia exclaimed suddenly. “Aunt Ellie lives in Mayaan?!”
“She certainly does!” Marten answered. “I went to visit her a few years back after a delivery to the Mountain Gate. She had always run a successful business back in Kaldan, but her company really took off once she moved to Lybesa. I’ve never seen so many company wagons in one place!” He laughed, pausing for a moment to sip on his tin cup of ale. “If anybody can help us out, it’ll be Elise.”
Lia grabbed my hand and squeezed it, looking up at me with childlike excitement. “Aunt Ellie is the best! She always used to bring me presents from other countries whenever she would come visit.” She bounced enthusiastically beside me on the rock we shared as a bench. “I haven’t seen her since I was a kid!”
“It sounds like it should be a nice reunion for everyone,” I said, scanning the happy faces around the small campfire. “Plus, working with an established trading company should make building a new home a lot easier.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Marten grinned. “All in all, we should be well on our way to building
