Cythera Chronicles: No Regrets

The people started gathering early; it seemed everyone wanted a good view for what was shaping up to be the social event of the year.

At the front of the room, Flynn surveyed the crowd with some amusement. It was originally intended to be a small affair, but he was now quite glad that Berossus had offered the use of the Castle; frankly, there was no other hall in Cademia big enough to hold a fraction of this crowd.

He shrugged his shoulders, testing for comfort. Although he'd rather be wearing his armour, he had to admit that this silk shirt came a close second. The colour, royal blue, suited him, too. He looked around at the short line of identically dressed men, and nodded in approval; any man would be hard pressed to look any better, on this day.

Looking toward the line of women standing on the opposite side of the aisle, he noticed Sasha fidgeting with her dress. "I'll get her for this," he heard her mutter. "I look ridiculous!"

"No," Flynn murmured, leaning towards her. "You look great, and Trundaylan obviously agrees with me." He indicated the blue-clad man at the far end of the line.

The warrior-mage hadn't been able to keep his eyes off Sasha, ever since he realised just who this raven-haired siren in the ice-blue silk dress actually was; in fact, he gave every appearance of being in shock. Sasha looked up, met his staring eyes, and blushed deeply. She hurriedly looked away in embarrassment, but Flynn was sure he saw the twitch of a suppressed smile.

There was a small commotion behind them, and Flynn turned to find out what was going on. It seemed one of the early-comers had taken a reserved seat, and refused to give it up. Ulf, acting as usher, was now carrying him bodily from the hall, totally ignoring the man's protests and struggles. Flynn smiled as he recalled the trouble they'd gone through, to find a tailor that wasn't afraid to attempt to make the white silk tunic for someone of Ulf's size; but he had to admit, the man had done a nice job.

"Ow, that hurt!" Flynn quickly located the source of the cry, and saw Aethon backing hurriedly away from Katze, holding one hand to one side of his face.

"Wait 'til I get my hands on you!" Katze exclaimed while advancing toward him, bent on committing mayhem on his person. Flynn couldn't imagine what Aethon had said to her, but surmised that the sight of Katze in a dress had overcome the man's better judgment. Sasha, as maid of honour, hurried over to shepherd the straying bridesmaid back into line; she paused to scold Aethon, and warn him to behave. Flynn chuckled to himself. That should do the trick; any man willing to risk the wrath of both Katze and Sasha, on the same day, would have to be certifiably insane.

Flynn felt a tap on his arm, and turned around further to see who it was. Talm bent over to speak into his ear, over the growing noise of the crowd. "The balloon's ready to go, and stocked for a month. It's moored just West of the city."

"Thanks, we really appreciate it," Flynn replied. Talm nodded, smiling, and turned to claim his reserved seat.

Just then a steward sidled up to Trundaylan, failing utterly to attract his attention. Trinias, the next in line, beckoned the steward over; after listening for a moment he nodded, and the steward departed. Trinias leaned towards Flynn. "There's been some trouble with the coach, I'll look into it." Flynn nodded, and Trinias departed up the aisle, as fast as he could without running - he didn't want to ruffle his clothes.

Flynn scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces. Among many others, he spied Slayer, Ferazel, Rogan, Theo, Lindor, Brink, Verran, Ferazel...

Ferazel?

He frowned in puzzlement at the figure walking calmly down the aisle, waving in his direction. He'd thought Ferazel was already here. In fact, there he was, sitting just behind the reserved section! Flynn nodded in comprehension as the Ferazel that had just arrived made a gesture, and the seated version faded away. Hallucination! So that's what he'd meant, when he'd said he didn't need a seat reserved!

Flynn was looking out a window, thinking how perfect the weather was for the occasion, when he heard yet another minor disturbance behind him. Kwon, dressed in a white silk tunic similar to Ulf's, was calmly escorting a man twice his size back up the aisle, holding him lightly by the arm; the man had apparently tried the same trick as the one on Ulf's side, earlier. Flynn recognised the signs: the man's face was a mask of agony, caused by the highly effective and technical grip Kwon maintained on his arm. When it came to crowd control, you couldn't do better than Ulf and Kwon.

Once again, Flynn grinned; he was having more fun than he could remember having in a long time, and as yet he hadn't had to do anything at all. At that moment Trinias returned, smiling broadly. "Wheel fell off," he reported. "Propontis offered his coach as a replacement." Flynn raised an eyebrow. He was astonished at the number of high-profile and important people that were bending over backwards to make this day a success, and he determined that he would make a point of expressing his gratitude to each one later.

At that moment Berossus, who was officiating, stood up and the orchestra began to play a wedding march. The members of the wedding party turned to look back, as Alaric sedately marched the veiled vision in white down the aisle. Flynn had to choke back hard on his emotions, or he'd never have made it through the ceremony; he'd never seen her look so beautiful.

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After the reception (at which the castle cooks had thoroughly outdone themselves), the newlyweds marched out the castle gate to the massed cheering of the waiting crowd. They climbed into the ornate, open coach that had been provided to take them to the waiting balloon; the driver cracked his whip, and they were off.

Leaning on the side of the castle gate, Flynn watched them depart with an immense feeling of satisfaction.

"So, they've finally done it," came a voice from behind him. Flynn turned to face the person who'd crept up so silently. Moonshadow stood there watching the departing coach.

"I always thought Wolmark and Leandra were well suited to each other," he said.

"I never thought she'd get over you," Moonshadow commented, turning to face him. "Tell me, were you never interested in her at all?"

"I was somewhat flattered," Flynn replied, "but no; I was never interested."

"Why didn't you just tell her that, instead of waiting all those years? Surely that would have been easier, for both of you?"

"I valued her friendship, and I didn't think she could take an outright refusal; she hasn't the temperament. I was sure that if I didn't respond, she would eventually lose interest." Flynn sighed. "I never dreamed it would take so long. I was probably wrong; I'm not exactly experienced in that kind of thing."

Moonshadow looked far into the distance with her elven eyes, watching the coach disappear in the direction of the balloon. "What if it were me?" she asked quietly.

Flynn looked at her in appraisal. "You're strong. I think you could take it," he said gently, after a pause.

"Then - you have something to tell me?" she asked hesitantly. Flynn was surprised to see the glisten of unshed tears in her eyes.

As lovely as Leandra had been, he thought Moonshadow in her ice-blue bridesmaid's dress, with a corsage on her wrist and a garland of flowers in her silver-white hair, was far more beautiful. He smiled. "No, nothing I can think of." Moonshadow blinked, uncertain of his meaning.

Flynn offered her his arm. "I hear the gardens here are quite lovely. Would you care to take a walk with me?"

Moonshadow looked at him, and smiled one of those rare smiles that seemed to cause her eyes to shine. Flynn's heart skipped a beat as she tucked her arm through his, rested her head on his shoulder, and sighed contentedly.

Arm in arm, unseeing, the enraptured couple strolled away.

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