Collide Gamer

Siena’s violin slowed down to a deliberate pace. The previous chorus by Undine and Nightingale shifted into a simple duet, their words intertwining into the words of ‘The Book of Love’.

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmnDXRJ7btE ]

Ahead of the brides walked Copernicus and Stirwin. Two animals made of solar light, shaking their heads to disperse petals from the baskets they carried in their maws. Their trot was carefully matched to the pace of the brides.

Veils covered their heads, cascades of white satin just thick enough that John could only make out the outlines of their faces behind. All the same, he knew exactly who was who. How could he not, when he knew to recognize them by the way they walked alone?

Aclysia approached from the left, covered in a wedding dress that he had bought for her so long ago in Cologne. It had been during their first proper date, their reunion after Lydia had summoned him to Europe and Aclysia had stayed with Rave during her recovery. Some adjustments had been made to it, but it was unmistakably that dress.

The bridal gloves were of the same pure white as the veil, the lacy fabric trimmed with silver-wire. Each finished up at the elbow and was secured around the middle finger.

Her shoulders were bare. The white of the dress clung to her skin tight, vertical lines of silvers integrating the seams with artful simplicity. The wedding dress was modest in what it covered, yet presented the woman, his woman, within it in all the beauty of her form. Her cleavage was visible through a diamond shaped window, ending below her sternum and above the blue jewel integrated into her pale chest.

A silver casing had been put around the edges of that jewel, connecting it to the ornate collar that held the dress stable. White and silver, two colours that had been used purely in this dress.

Rave approached from the right, covered in a dress that matched Aclysia’s wondrously.

There were small differences. The straps that connected the chest and collar were slightly thinner. The collar itself was done differently, flaring wider over her shoulders. A small blue gem had been integrated atop her own chest. It was mimicry with originality, imitation as flattery.

Regan received his daughter, doing as fathers were obligated to do and taking her hand, guiding her down the aisle. Appearing out of nowhere, a certain mechanic appeared. His suit was tailored to his body, but did not quite fit his demeanor. Jimmie was clearly nervous, but he walked Aclysia all the same.

There were more intricate details to it all, but John could scarcely see them. He was fighting for his dear life against the tears. Not to suppress them, for that was impossible. His battle was merely an attempt to stand still while his vision blurred from the joy that rolled down his cheeks.

All of the oddity of the last 24 hours came to a pinnacle as time twisted itself into a knot in his stomach. Everything flowed with an infinite slowness. One moment transitioned into the next in a gradient, as if the frame rate of reality had suddenly been spiked. Every last one, he committed to memory. Every sway of the veils, every shift of the pencil skirts over their long legs. The trembles of their impatience had him swallow and blink away another wave of tears.

Regan and Jimmie aided the brides up the stairs. They stopped at the final step. “You better take care of her,” the worried father mumbled and it was his right to demand it.

“Hope that was okay?” Jimmie asked.

“It was brilliant,” Aclysia assured, squeezing his arm before she let go. “Thank you.”

The brides put their arms around one another, taking their position opposite of John at the altar. His body turned on its own, all of his being directed at the two like they were his north. Even this close, he couldn’t even make out their hair beneath the veils.

The song quieted, a sacred silence taking its place. In it, John could only hear his own drumming heartbeat.

“Rarely am I given the delight to involve myself like this.” Gaia’s voice was even, melodious, and entirely venerating to the moment. “Rarely can I say that I am the officiator of a marriage and certainly, this one deserves every blessing that can be offered. It is today that I will take the vows of John Newman, Jane Hollmey, and Aclysia.”

The two women reached out to John. Instinctively, he took their hands in his. They were trembling every bit as much as he was.

“Are there any words that the groom or the brides wish to speak before the exchange of vows?” Gaia asked.

“No,” John said, for all that had needed to be said had been said.

“No,” Rave said, for all that had needed to be said had been said.

“No,” Aclysia said, for all that had needed to be said had been said.

“Then do you, John Newman, swear to always do right by them?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Jane Hollmey and Aclysia, swear to always do right by him?”

“”We do,”” they spoke in unison.

“And do you, John Newman, promise to honour them with your name and all that you can offer?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Jane Hollmey and Aclysia, promise to honour his name, the name you take, and give to him all that you can offer?”

“”We do.””

“And do you, John Newman, pledge that no matter how many more wives you may take, that you will love these two all the same and more?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Jane Hollmey and Aclysia, pledge that you wish to be the first of his wives, knowing that others will follow?”

“”We do.””

Gaia let the words hang in the air for just one second. All of the weight of the commitments made to that point were but feathers compared to the final oath that the supreme deity now, finally, spoke with no power more magical than the words themselves.

“And do you, John Newman, vow to take Jane Hollmey and Aclysia to be your first and second wedded wives, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to all that is holy and good?”

“I do,” the words crossed his lips like the first breeze of spring.

“And do you, Jane Hollmey and Aclysia, vow to take John Newman to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part, according to all that is holy and good?”

“”We do!”” the two declared with the force of a thousand heartbeats.

“Then, as the observer of this universe and all of its motions, I hereby pronounce you husband and wives.”

Their hands stayed joined. For a moment, John was confused about what was supposed to happen next. A gentle, half-purred, “Mreow,” and the bump of a furred head had him glance down. A certain bird-cat held in her beak a golden rope from which hung a red velvet cushion, upon which three rings laid. Two were simple and golden, wedding rings out of a fairy tale, one beset with a pink, the other with a black stone. One was intricate, a band of dark blue, framed by black and white.

Velka stretched upwards, making it easier for the groom and the brides to collect the precious rings.

John held the two golden rings in his right hand. The magic within them thrummed. For how simple they appeared, they had all the same been created by the magic of that first engagement ring that he had given his first bride.

She was first. He took the right hand that she offered him, pushing the brilliant golden ring over her slender finger. He blinked the last of his tears away, his joy stabilized into an elation without trembles and uncertainty. There was no thought, even, just the sensation of taking Aclysia’s left hand next and pushing the ring over her finger next.

Together, they took his left hand next. His second bride placed the ring around the tip of the finger and his first bride pushed it down. It sat there with certainty, with a light heaviness that he would always delight in.

“You may now kiss the brides,” Gaia gently proclaimed.

The moment John lifted their veils, the enchantments on them caused them to fade. As they did, so too did everything else in the world cease to be of importance. The ornate cathedral, the gods and god-like people, the supreme deity of this reality, nothing else existed.

Aclysia had put her hair into a braid, resting over her shoulder – and so had the pink-haired first love of his life that she was holding. The ever-chaotic strands of hair had been straightened, framing her face with only a gentle curve. Silver bands kept their braids together. Their eyes were gently wet with tears that they too had blinked away. They smiled at him, light as an angel’s feather. Hands shining with golden rings, they reached up to him – reached to receive their husband.

[Two Brides Marriage: https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/ef8d629f80b0.png ]

He stepped into their arms. He wrapped his own around their waists. He kissed them both. The woman to his left first, then the woman to his right. The urge to try and confer all of his love in a single kiss would have been impossible with one woman. He tried with two all the same. A deep, thorough kiss, a renewed exploration of their lips, a renewed experience of their taste. It was chaste in its intention and deeply intimate in its execution. It was his and his to see shared between them.

After he had kissed them, the brides kissed one another. Glossy pink lips met light pink ones. They kissed, trying just as he did to convey to one another just how deeply they cared for one another. Did they also believe they failed? From where John stood, the tender and lasting touch of their lips said everything that had to be said.

The sacred silence in the room was broken by the eruption of applause and cheers. John turned to the crowd, witnessing as all the friends he had made, however complicated their relationship was, all became united in one moment of standing for the three of them. From the Horned Rat to Romulus, from Jimmie to Maximillian, all were clapping and stomping their feet, filling the holy cathedral with sounds that were so simple and human.

His wives flanked John, grabbing his arms and dragging him down the steps. They marched past the trio of animals, dropping baskets and cushion to be the second to follow. First was the crowd of his as of yet unwed loves, hanging close behind the newlyweds.

As they walked, John finally managed to find his voice. “When did you convince everyone to do this?”

“Convince?” Aclysia trilled, her voice ringing with joy unending, clearer than any chime of any bell ever rung. “My husband, there never was an alternative plan.”

“She’s right,” his first wife added with a broad smirk.

John laughed at his own ignorance. How had he missed this scheme? It didn’t matter. He was now a man with two wives. What did it matter when Aclysia had brought this plan to Rave and-

“No.” His first bride pinched his arm ever so lightly. “Enough of that. You call your wife by her name on every layer of thought, you hear that, tiger?”

As always, she was in the deepest layers of his head.

John nodded at Jane with a grin too small to reflect his joy.

Newlyweds, animals, harem, friends and family streamed out of the cathedral, greeted by a large crowd of diplomats, acquaintances and people of import, all of which echoed the cheers that those inside had given before. Their voices were many, their cries louder, yet the reverberation was milder, less meaningful and great all the same.

Arms around his wives, John walked forwards. Above them, elemental magic launched into the noon sky. The sun hung high above them, the day was warm and the winds gentle. Every breeze was scented by fresh grass and the beginnings of large barbecues. Festival meals were prepared all around as flower petals rained from the sky.

John looked back only once, at the only person who had chosen to stay behind. A smile on her lips, Gaia waved, then disappeared in a flash of light. He would have loved to see her at the festivities, but understood that she couldn’t be there.

The doors of the cathedral closed behind them.

The present was dazzling.

The future, whatever it held, would be bright as well.

He had vowed this.