Wedding Vows
At night, the royal palace's lights can be seen from anywhere in the city
Promises are magic.
وعده ها جادو هستند.
Keep your promises, and the gods will reward you with charms and enchantments. به وعده های خود عمل کنید و خدایان به شما با افسون ها و افسون ها پاداش خواهند داد.
Be careful to never break your promises, for if you do, the consequences are steep. مواظب باش که هرگز وعده هایت را زیر پا نگذاری، زیرا اگر این کار را کنی، عواقب سنگینی خواهد داشت.
This is the story of a broken promise, and of the despair that followed. این داستان یک وعده شکسته و ناامیدی است که در پی آن رخ داد.
It was a dark and windy night, the illustrious city of Tel Kellah rendered pitch black by the new moon. Ariana scampered through the palace on tiptoe, alone but for the ominous howl of drafty, stone passages. She kept to the shadows, hood drawn and cloak clutched tightly around her. Most of the palace had gone dark, deserted in favor of the grand ballroom where even then hundreds of guests were gathered.
Suddenly she heard the scrape of footsteps. Panicked, Ariana quickly ducked around the nearest corner, praying to Ahura Mazda that she wouldn’t be discovered. The footsteps grew louder with each step, then suddenly came to a stop. Ariana waited there, the rush of blood roaring in her ears. After what felt like an eternity, she peaked out, then abruptly pulled herself back into her hiding spot, hands clamped over her mouth.
Around the corner a wizened elder milled about, glassy eyes swimming around the room as if he were examining every tile in the floor and walls. She recognized Lord Ardeshir, her father’s Lord Counselor of Whispers. What was he doing here, so far from the ballroom? Slowly, she peaked out again.
“Lord Counselor!” a voice called.
The elder turned as a second man joined him in the hall. This man was younger, no older than his mid forties. He had curly brown hair and wore a gold shalvar robe and dark jameh pants. Ariana recognized her father’s Lord Counselor of Medicine. Like the elder, his outfit was tied together by a light yellow kamarband, an indication of the esteemed positions the men held as members of her father’s wise council.
“Lord Kohler,” the elder greeted.
“Salam, my friend. Have you gotten lost?” The younger man spoke with a light accent, Camduren, Ariana thought, or perhaps Ibramic.
“Not at all,” Ardeshir assured his colleague. He turned away, tracing his fingertips over the stone tiles of the nearest wall. “Truth be told, I heard a whisper tonight that the Shah’s personal wine collection is kept in a hidden room somewhere within these walls, and saw for myself an opportunity to learn yet another secret.”
The younger man laughed. “I suspect the Shah would prefer to have you executed rather than part with this particular secret.”
Ardeshir chuckled. “You may be right.”
“Let us return to the wedding,” Kohler said. “The princess should be arriving at any moment.”
“I suppose it is rather senseless to search so long for hidden wine that I miss the wine that’s already being served.”
Kohler smiled mischievously, then reached into his robe and produced a small, glass bottle shaped like an ankh. Inside was wine as red as the rubies Ariana’s father often wore on rings and bracelets.
Ardeshir’s jaw dropped. “Ibramic wine? I thought they didn’t make this anymore! Where in Rouhani did you get it?!”
Kohler’s smile widened knowingly. “You have your secrets, and I have mine.”
Ardeshir laughed. The younger man put his arm around the elder’s shoulders, and together the two men retreated down the hall. Ariana waited for several minutes even after their footsteps had receded into the distance. When she was sure that both men had gone she dashed out of her hiding place and continued on her way. She would have to be quick. It wouldn’t be long before her absence was noticed.
Ariana picked her way through dark hallways and twisting, labyrinthian corridors, until at last she found herself before the front entrance of the palace, a heavy iron gate twenty feet tall and sealed by a dozen bolts and latches.
She raised her index finger to the door, gently tracing the cool metal. The small rune tattooed across her finger began to glow with soft, white light. One by one the locks unfastened. When the last one had clicked open, the doors swung outward with a low groan.
The two soldiers who stood guard outside the gate turned, startled by its sudden opening. One of the guards took a step forward, squinting. The soft glow of wall-mounted torches revealed a man in his early twenties, sporting a thick soul patch on his chin. His eyes widened as he caught sight of her. Ariana cursed under her breath. She knew this man.
“Are you alright, Princess?” Rosencrantz asked. He took a tentative step toward her. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your wedding?” He wore a look of puzzlement on his face, large brown eyes that were far too innocent for a man born to the warrior caste.
A lump formed in Ariana’s throat. If Rosencrantz was on guard duty tonight, then that meant the other man was-
“I bet she just needs some air, Rose,” Guildenstern chortled. “Or maybe the princess is hungry. You need me to send for the cooks, Ari?”
She bit down on her lower lip so hard that she drew blood, metallic and bitter on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t attack these men. The brothers were her friends. More than that. They had all grown up together, shared countless laughs and adventures. The thought that these two might be punished for letting her escape was almost enough to make Ariana turn around and walk back to her fitting room and her wedding dress.
“Princess?” Guildenstern asked when she didn’t respond.
Ariana took a step toward them.
“Ari, what’s wrong?”
As she came into the light, the men caught sight of her attire. They looked her up and down for a moment. Realization dawned on the young soldiers’ faces. They stiffened.
“Please move out of the way,” Ariana said, trying her best to keep her voice from breaking.
Rosencrantz put his hands on his hips. “Does it really have to come to this? I know you have your doubts, but...”
“Come on, Ari, be reasonable,” Guildenstern pleaded. “Why don’t you let us take you back to your fitting chambers? We’ll stop by the kitchens and-”
Ariana seized the hilt of her scimitar from where it hung on her belt. “I mean it,” she said more forcefully, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. She unsheathed her weapon a few centimeters. The scabbard and blade parted with a sharp click.
The soldiers’ eyes hardened. They nodded to one another. Both men brandished their long pikes, leveling them at the princess.
“Do you understand what you’re doing, Princess?” Rosencrantz snarled accusingly. “You’ll start a war!.”
“Please,” she begged. “I’m not doing this for myself, I-”
“Save it. You know we can’t let you go.”
A lonely tear dribbled from her cheek to her chin. “Then I’m sorry.”
She assumed her sword stance; hand on the hilt of her sheathed blade, knees bent, feet shoulder width apart.
The two soldiers came at her. Ariana drew her sword faster than a man could blink. Every girl in Tel Kellah was taught the art of the scimitar from a young age. It was a graceful, feminine weapon, elegant as all women were expected to be. She had studied it for as long as she could remember, spent countless hours pouring over each movement in every stance.
Now she demonstrated the result of those long hours as she dodged the mens’ pikes and deflected the tips of their weapons away. The runic circle tattooed on Ariana’s back began to glow, white light more radiant than the torches on the walls. She could feel the magic inside of her, like an icy tide rushing through her veins. It made her stronger and faster, enhanced her reflexes and honed the precision of her strikes.
Metal rang against metal. Ariana weaved left and right with feline grace. Her movements were hypnotic, fluid. She caught one of the pikes mid thrust and tore it away with a sudden twist of the elbows, then swept Rosencrantz’s feet out from under him. He tumbled to the ground, cursing loudly.
Guildenstern whirled around in surprise. “Rose!”
Ariana rushed past him in his moment of hesitation. Guildenstern’s knee buckled and folded. He cried out as he fell.
Ariana stopped and turned to lock eyes with each of the men. It took everything she had to meet their gazes. Seeing the betrayal in their eyes caused her chest to ache as acutely as if she’d been stabbed in the heart by one of their pikes. What was she doing? Rosencrantz was the one who had taught her to fly a kite and how to make flatbread. Guildenstern had held her close and let her cry after her first heartbreak. Each of them bore a thousand such memories with her. She loved them.
Ariana’s lip quivered. Before doubt could overtake her, she took off running down the long, stone bridge that separated the palace from the rest of Tel Kellah.
“We need to alert the captain!” she heard Guildenstern yell.
Ariana picked up her pace, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she charged ahead. The sky was pitch black, nighttime reflected in the still surface of the circular mote that surrounded her home. Behind her more voices sounded as additional soldiers were dispatched. Even so, she kept running, continuing despite the ache in her legs and the screaming of her muscles.
“Princess Ariana!”
She chanced a glance behind her. A man raced toward Ariana on the back of a four-legged beast, a skulking monster with an obsidian hide and two massive, jagged horns - a karkadann. The man, perhaps one or two years Ariana’s senior, had deep, almond skin and dark eyes, sandy hair, and a youthful complexion. He wore a mithril shirt and pants beneath a gold and red dragonscale tunic and bracers, and a gold painted helmet with a traditional neyzak spike protruding from the top. Even with all the armor she recognized Lord Kazra Davani, younger brother to her betrothed. Another friend she was betraying today.
“Stop!” he yelled. “In the name of the Shah!”
Had he arrived even a few moments earlier he would have caught her. Luckily for Ariana, the end of the bridge came into view ahead just as Kazra shouted at her. A man waited for her there, next to a second karkadann. He was dressed not in the red and gold armor standard to soldiers of Tel Kellah but in a white and purple robe and tunic.
“Ariana!” the man cried, descending to meet her as she arrived. Prince Vahid of the Red Kingdom was tall and lithe, and had a thin, black pencil mustache. A long spear was slung over his back.
She embraced Vahid as she reached him. He swept her off her feet and into a warm, passionate kiss. His touch was soothing, momentarily alleviating Ariana’s worries despite her pounding heart.
Kazra arrived at the end of the bridge just then, coming to a stop a few meters away. Vahid spun around and set Ariana down behind him, then turned back toward Kazra and took a step forward, placing himself protectively between Ariana and her pursuer.
Kazra met Ariana’s eyes. “Why?” he asked. “Kazem has been nothing but good to you ever since we were all kids!”
Ariana looked down, unable to speak for fear of breaking down then and there.
Vahid took another step forward. He drew and brandished his spear. “Maybe she just wants real love. Did you consider that?” His words were like a dagger thrust into her sternum.
Kazra drew his own spear from where it had been slung on his back. He ignored Vahid, keeping his eyes fixed on Ariana. “Princess, please. You know I can’t let you go.”
Ariana bit down on her lip, drawing blood for the second time that night. She knew what Kazra was really saying. He couldn’t afford to fail here, either. No matter what, one of them was going to suffer as a result of her betrayal.
Vahid took another step in Kazra’s direction. “Who’s going to stop her? You?”
“If I have to. I’m still hoping that she’ll make the right decision before it comes to that.”
Distant voices in the darkness indicated the approach of additional reinforcements.
“Please!” Ariana begged. “Don’t fight!” She forced herself to meet Kazra’s gaze. “Please, Kazra. You don’t understand.”
“You’re right,” he growled. “I don’t.”
He lowered his spear and whipped the reins of his mount. His karkadann charged. In response Vahid leaped onto the back of his own beast and stirred it forward to meet Kazra.
Ariana’s eyes widened. “Don’t!”
It was over in an instant. The two beasts moved like lightning, faster than the eye could see. The men struck out, spears bouncing off one another. Their bodies glowed, runic tattoos ignited like fire. Their mounts turned and they charged again. The tips of their spears met in an explosion of light so dazzling that Ariana was forced to shield her eyes. Vahid was sent flying from the back of his mount, tumbling across the ground.
“VAHID!” Ariana cried out. She ran to the fallen prince and knelt by her beloved, throwing her arms around him. “Vahid? Are you okay?”
He groaned. “Tight...”
Ariana loosened her grip. “Are you hurt?!”
“Just a bruise,” he reassured her. “Don’t worry, my love. Nothing my Iron Skin can’t absorb.” He stood, dusting himself off.
“I’m so sorry...” she wept. “It’s all my fault.”
“Nonsense,” Vahid said, smiling. “I’d do this a thousand times over if I got to spend even a second with you at the end of it.” His face grew more solemn. “Stand, my love. We still have to deal with-” He cut off as the two of them heard a gurgling sound.
Ariana turned and gasped. Kazra’s karkadann had stopped charging, and instead had begun pacing back and forth with an uncertain expression. Kazra was still seated atop his mount, eyes wide. He gripped the side of his neck with one hand. There, a loose spearhead protruded. Blood oozed between his fingers as he rasped for breath, scarlet liquid dribbling out of his mouth and down his chin. Ariana’s hands flew to her mouth. Kazra tumbled from his mount.
“No!” Ariana exclaimed.
Shouts in the distance drew closer. Tel Kellah’s soldiers were in view now, two dozen men racing down the bridge toward them.
“We have to go,” Vahid urged her.
“But... Kazra..?!” Ariana exclaimed, eyes wide as she took in the sight of Kazra’s blood.
“There’s no time! Leave him!”
“We can’t just-”
“I see them!” one of the soldiers shouted. “Up ahead!”
“Get them!” another joined in.
“Ariana, we have to go!” Vahid shouted. “Now!”
Ariana blinked away her tears. “I’m so sorry...”
Kazra looked up at her through hate-filled eyes, crimson sludge gurgling out from his neck and mouth. “Damn... you...”
Vahid ascended onto his mount again, then helped to lift Ariana onto its back, behind him. She slapped the karkadann’s backside as Vahid seized the reins. The karkadann charged ahead, carrying the two of them away from the bridge.
Ariana looked back as they rode. “I’m sorry...” she kept whispering, unable to get the image of Kazra choking on his own blood out of her mind. “I’m so sorry..”
They crashed through the city gate and emerged into the desert. Behind them, Tel Kellah shrank into the background, until the palace’s golden red walls and rows of painted stone columns became too tiny to see. Soon, everything disappeared into the distance.
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