Chapter 2: Prologue: Wedding Ceremony, Escape! – Part 2

Lyzander absent-mindedly picked at his unforgettable shirt sleeve and leaned out of line to glance at the other eligible bachelors in the town square with him. He had managed to escape his second-mother’s questioning with a minimum of excuses and was now waiting for his turn to be presented. A large crowd from the local Halfling community gathered to watch the ceremonies.

Many among the mass of Halfling youths and their families wiped away tears of happiness of disappointment as they watched those participating in this year’s rite of adulthood. The most unusual thing was people of other races mixed in with the crowd against custom. This was because Lyzander lived in a small city called Hazelhaven in the Halfling-run kingdom of Claya. As such, the ceremony was publicly accessible to any who wished to experience it for themselves.

If I get my chance, once I’ve finished the rite of adulthood and consummated my marriage, I will enlist in the Woodfeller’s guild and make my way to the frontline. Unfortunately, they’ll only accept Halfling men with dormant marriage tattoos. Or, I would have left on my own already.

Hazelhaven was the closest Halfling city to the kingdom of Crudor, making it very possible for Lyzander to make it across the border. It was the nearest bastion of defence against the Expanding Woods incursion into the free kingdom-states of Nyre.

At the centre of the town square, the most senior members of the Women’s Council were seated atop a podium. Every Halfling first-wife was a member and expected to oversee and engage in the local government. But only those elected from among their ranks had the honour of conducting ceremonies with a different group in charge of each rite as they arrive.

Seven Halfling women sat to each side of the throuple standing at the altar to be married with a rotating officiate Magus male standing in front of them. The bride’s first-mothers stood at their daughter's side to present them before rejoining the crowd. Lyzander ignored the officiate’s ritual words and watched him touch ceremonial arcane focus, a gaudy staff, to the groom’s wrists in turn. He could anticipate the mystical runes with great precision before they appeared.

Lyzander was once considered a once-in-a-generation talent when it came to grasping the concept of magic. But it didn’t take long for his elders to abandon all hope and give him one final opportunity to prove himself. If he had failed this year’s graduation exam at the Arcane Academy, they would have pulled him out of it and placed him into a more mundane trade, forcing his hand and making him stop intentionally procrastinating. Hence his current predicament.

Covertly looking around, noticed that no one’s focus was on him. The crowd was engrossed in the dramatic theatrical effects of the Master of Ceremonies Magus’s spell. Gentle winds of light circled each of the brides and painted glyphs in the air of ceremonial Halfling script. They told a short tale of how the candidates were selected to enhance and ensure a harmonious future relationship. At least that’s how it was supposed to work in theory.

How did I get paired with Daeliel and Meredith? They should have both been married off years ago. Something suspicious is at play here, I can smell it.

Lyzander silently stepped back and crept behind the line of grooms to the end of the queue. The boy in front of Lyzander looked over his shoulder at him in confusion before recognising Lyzander’s face.

“Heh, still trying to get out of marriage, Lyzander?” the boy asked in a whisper with a secretive smirk. He kept his eyes locked forward to avoid attracting attention to his gossiping which could result in harsh punishment at the end if he were to be caught.

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“Glint, you’re only so eager because you and everyone successfully managed to avoid being paired with one of the witch-duo, let alone both,” Lyzander whined back.

“The rest of us dream of spending a night with the spellbinding sisters. Daeliel and Merelith ain’t that bad, only you seem to get under their skin. I wouldn’t mind taking your place in the marital chamber. Instead, I wound up with sourpuss Skraggle. It sucks that our first-mothers are best friends,” Glint complained in turn, bitterly looking at the brides allowed to mill together and gossip without punishment.

“Either way, don’t you just feel like we’re lined up a slave auction and sold off to the highest bidders?” Lyzander asked, scowling as he surveyed the crowd.

His body involuntarily stiffened as he noticed one of the women seated on the podium disapprovingly watching him. He quickly lowered his eyes to dodge her gaze and he subconsciously shrunk to hide behind Glint’s back. It was his first-mother, she had been placed at the very front of the Women’s Council closest to the betrothed. Lyzander suspected it was to ensure his compliance.

“Opps, we better be quiet, your first-mother’s watching us. We both know she’ll punish us if we keep talking. Especially you for constantly embarrassing your family. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ordered us to be drenched with soap water like a husband caught patroning the House of Worldly Delight,” Glint warned, refusing to speak any further.

Turning his attention back to the proceedings, the magical glyphs finished forming for the crowd to read for a new throuple. The previous newlyweds had already made their exit to consummate their marriage and make it official. Lyzander’s expression darkened as he watched the floating runes from above each bride settle upon the groom’s wrists, marking him as a man.

The pictograph remained glowing with remnant power that wouldn’t dissipate until completing the acts of their first night together. The spell’s purpose was single-use to increase the respective bride’s fertility, hopefully resulting in pregnancy. It wouldn’t fade and become dormant until the husband had performed his duties with each of them. It was also a way to ensure that no one tried to evade their responsibilities to their spouse.

Look how happy that idiot, Vess, looks. That smile is just about ready to fall off his face. Maybe things aren’t all bad, he gets the fun part. I wonder what sex feels like, my brother and… former friends said it’s the best feeling in the world.

The throuple were quickly ushered off the stage and the two second-mothers of the brides rushed forward, proudly welcoming their new daughters and son. They ritualistically moved behind their new daughter’s back in unison as their families silently encircled them to watch them expertly weave their hair into marriage braids.

“I hate this shit,” Lyzander dejectedly muttered to himself with a surly expression. Returning his attention to the next throuple at the altar.

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