NOVEL NEXT Bonus Chapter #3: Miriel, Pastor of Vows
It’s been a month since he married the newest Elden Lord and his mortal women. And oh, how things have changed in that time. For starters, the little demi-human seamster came through. Not two days after that first wedding, the renovation crews had arrived and gotten to work. And they’d been so considerate about things too.
Miriel had been abundantly clear on what needed to be done. The Church of Vows was to be rebuilt to its previous specifications. Not changed. Not enhanced. Not ‘reimagined’ like some of those young newfangled architects liked to do. No, it had to be as it was originally. It was a monument of times long passed after all, but more than that, the basin in the back, where one could go to cleanse oneself with celestial dew, had to remain.
Twas the only way that absolution would remain truly open to the masses. The miracle that persisted from that day long ago where Radagon repented his territorial aggressions and swore his love to Rennala, needed to continue to have a place in the Church of Vows. Even if Radagon had betrayed his promise, the Church still stood tall, and the celestial dew still worked its blessing of absolution.
Thankfully, the men that the new Elden Lord had gotten to handle the Church’s refurbishment and rebuilding were understanding of Miriel’s needs. More than that, they’d even been willing to work around the Pastor of Vows! Which was good, because… ah, he could barely move himself, these days. In the end, they’d had to make something of a sled for him, moving him around the Church as they rebuilt sections of it at a time.
Working with lightning speed, they’d had the entire place rebuilt within two weeks. For the first time in centuries, Miriel had a roof over his head. Not that he needed it, his shell and his mitre had always served as adequate protection from the elements. Still, the large turtle was glad to see the Church, HIS Church, restored to its original status. It was… beautiful.
Twas quite lucky too, that they finished up in only two weeks, because the very same day after the building crews left, the wedding crews arrived. Miriel could admit it, now that the big day had finally come. He was a little overwhelmed. It was nothing like the first wedding of the new Elden Lord that he’d presided over. It was certainly not just a one and done thing, with Boc the Seamster hastily presenting the ladies who’s hearts had been captured by the Tarnished Lord, and Miriel rapidly marrying them all together.
No, this was something very different. The wedding planners were insistent on everything happening a certain way, and Miriel… Miriel was content to let them prepare how they wanted. He’d only truly had to put his foot down twice. The first situation had been simple enough to handle. He refused to let them tell him what he was going to say. If he was going to be wedding the new Elden Lord to anyone, his sermon would be his own.
The second situation had been a wee bit more complicated. Put simply, there were two wedding crews. One was from the Royal Capital Leyndell, sent by the Eternal Queen herself. The other was from Raya Lucaria, sent by the Carian Royal Family of all things. To say they’d clashed over a number of decisions would be an understatement.
Things had very nearly come to blows, before Miriel had finally stepped in and chastised them both. After making the heads of each wedding crew kneel in the basin and cleanse themselves with celestial dew side by side however, things had gone better. Past grievances were not forgotten, but they were forgiven. That was the promise of the celestial dew. Any bond, no matter how strained, nor even severed, could still be put to rights. Nothing was truly final in this world.
Regardless, it’d all worked out in the end… and the day had finally arrived. Oh, Miriel had butterflies in his stomach. This was going to be… interesting to say the least.
The sudden sound of trumpets fills the air, and Miriel shifts at the head of the Church, moving from foot to foot at his newly constructed pulpit. Most of the wedding guests are already seated. Yes, that was another difference this time around. There were actual guests, numbering in the hundreds. Truth be told, it was still a surprisingly small number, given who was being married.
But the Church of Vows was no massive venue. If the wedding had taken place in the Royal Capital, or even the Academy, then perhaps thousands or tens of thousands could have attended. As it is, with such a limited space, they could only have so many… and Miriel secretly thought that those in charge had appreciated that fact more than they’d cared to admit.
Of course, there’d still been all sorts of interesting characters. Miriel hadn’t gotten to interact with many of them, but he had seen a few from his pulpit through the Church windows. He still wasn’t entirely sure what to think of the bald man or the man in the mask setting up stalls outside of his Church during such an important event, but nobody else seemed to care, so he’d let it be.
Indeed, the bald man seemed to be selling trinkets and souvenirs that were almost certainly overpriced. But at the same time, were they truly overpriced if one could say they were acquired at the wedding of the century? After all, this event was the greatest singular event that the Church of Vows had seen since Radagon and Rennala’s own nuptials took place here. Nay… nay, it was even greater than that, wasn’t it?
Meanwhile, the man in the mask selling boiled prawn and crab was keeping the wedding guests fed, Miriel supposed. At least it wasn’t turtle soup. In this regard, he’d decided he could live and let live. If no one else was going to raise a fuss, than Miriel certainly wasn’t going to.
On the flipside, the contingent from Jarburg was most welcome, at least in Miriel’s personal opinion. He didn’t recognize the human knight that was leading them, what with his curly brown hair, but the Living Jars seemed to trust him well enough, and they all had flowers sticking out from under the rims of their lids!
It filled Miriel’s heart with quite a bit of joy, when the Jarburg contingent ran into another Living Jar quiet familiar to the Pastor of Vows. Why, it seemed like only yesterday, but also an entire eternity ago that Iron Fist Alexander made his vow before Miriel to never return to Jarburg. A harsh vow to make, but sometimes it was what one needed, to break away from the old and find the new.
At least here and now, the Warrior Jar was able to reunite with some of his kin, outside of the home he’d vowed to never return to. Indeed, Miriel’s face spreads into a wide, contented smile as he watches Alexander kneel down and allow the smaller Living Jars to place some of their flowers around the rim of his lid instead. Quite the lovely sight…
“ATTENTION, EVERYONE!”
Ah, it’s beginning. He should focus up. Needless to say, it was not Boc the Seamster who was doing the announcements this day. Instead, it was some official-looking blond man, dressed in the robes of his office. First, he announces the previous brides. All six of the women that Miriel married to the Tarnished Lord a month before, enter, some of them with male chaperones, some with not. Miriel doesn’t pay them much mind, save to note that Lady Roderika the Spirit Tuner has apparently brought along THE Master Hewg this time.
The ancient misbegotten looks a little grouchy, like he’s not quite sure why he’s there, and frankly, Miriel can sympathize with him. Still, the old blacksmith keeps his grumbling to a minimum, as he and Roderika take their seats in the front rows along with the rest of the new Elden Lord’s mortal wives. Then, they get to the latest batch. Ah, probably shouldn’t say that out loud. Wouldn’t be… appropriate.
“PRESENTING QUEEN MARIKA THE ETERNAL AND HER DAUGHTERS PRINCESS MALENIA, BLADE OF MIQUELLA, AND PRINCESS MELINA, KINDLING MAIDEN!”
Noting Boc among the crowd, Miriel could see from the Seamster’s straight back and proud, broad smile that this was his doing. The Goddess and her daughters were clad in what almost seemed like spun sunlight, their exquisite forms draped in the finest garb that Miriel had ever seen. Certainly, it was work that only a royal seamster could have managed, with a golden sewing needle and a set of golden tailoring tools.
Queen Marika and her daughters arrive and stand to the left of the dais, turning back just in time for the announcer to call out the other half of today’s brides.
“PRESENTING LUNAR PRINCESS RANNI, HER MOTHER QUEEN RENNALA OF THE FULL MOON AND HER SISTER, SORCERER SELLEN.”
That gets another solid blink from Miriel. The Paster of Vows refrains from cocking his head to the side in confusion, but there’s no denying he’s a little surprised. It makes sense that Lunar Princess Ranni would be introduced first, he supposes. He’s heard, as much as everyone else, that the Lunar Princess ascended to godhood, matching Queen Marika in power. But, ah… who is Sorcerer Sellen, exactly?
Well, no matter. They’re entering now, which means it’ll all be starting soon. And oh my… Boc truly had outdone himself. Ranni, along with her mother and sister, are all also wearing garb fit for royalty. Not necessarily better or worse than what Marika and her daughters have on, simply different. And what a difference it is. If Marika and her daughters are wearing spun sunlight, then Ranni, Rennala, and Sellen are clad in the starry night itself.
Miriel approves. He approves greatly and can only gaze on as the Carian Royals take their place to the left of the dais.
“PRESENTING THE TARNISHED LORD!”
When the new Elden Lord enters, Miriel isn’t surprised to see Boc has gone for a ‘best of both worlds situation’. Now, the Pastor of Vows doesn’t have an eye for fashion. He’s something of a plebian, in that regard. But personally, he likes to think the demi-human seamster has managed it perfectly. As the Tarnished strides forward, he’s an effortless mix of the two groups of women waiting for him. He stands as a bridge between the two Goddesses of the Lands Between and their Houses, and his clothing reflects that.
Yes, Miriel definitely approves. Of course, he’s not here to approve of the clothing. He’s here to marry another batch of women to the Tarnished Lord. Hmph, once again Tarnished, weird… but not a sin. Especially not when Marika herself was part of it. After all, how could something be a sin when it had the backing of the Eternal Sovereign? Did she not decide what was and was not a sin, after all?
With the new Elden Lord standing in the middle, the two sets of women turn to face him on his pulpit. Every eye in the Church of Vows looks at him, and Miriel is grateful that he’s never been one for stage fright, because boy is that a lot of attention. Even still, he can’t help but be a little flustered. He has the attention of both Queen Marika the Eternal and Queen Rennala of the Full Moon right now, as well as their daughters.
Hmph. Nothing for it, save to begin.
“… It feels like just yesterday that I married Lord Radagon and Lady Rennala in this very Church. A great champion, Lord Radagon came to these lands at the head of a great golden host and met his soon-to-be-bride in battle.”
A hush falls over the Church, but neither of the two Goddesses standing on either side of their Tarnished Lord move to strike him down. Though, while Lunar Princess Ranni’s eyes are fixed on Miriel, he does notice that Queen Marika isn’t even looking his way. In fact, the Eternal Sovereign is making eyes at Queen Rennala of all people, over the heads of both the Elden Lord and Lunar Princess Ranni. And in turn, Queen Rennala seems to be stealing glances at Queen Marika.
Interesting, but hardly the point. And he should probably hasten to reach that point, sometime soon.
“Lord Radagon would repent his transgressions upon the lands, and take his vows in this very Church, giving it the name it has today. The Church of Vows. And what, precisely, is in a vow, hm? Commitment. Devotion. Loyalty. These things and many others, I hope that the fine individuals who come before us today will harbor for one another for centuries to come. For it is they who we must rely on to lead us into the future. It is they who will lead our children, and our children’s children, who will guide the ancestors of those in this room for centuries and millennia to come.”
His voice solemn, Miriel sweeps his gaze up and down the line of seven. Marika and Rennala aren’t making eyes at each other anymore at least, but now they’re very much looking at him just as Ranni is. Still, Miriel isn’t the Pastor of Vows for nothing! And the Elden Lord… why, he’s smiling! So damn it, this old turtle must be doing something right!
“I can only hope that the fine individuals who come before us today to be joined in holy matrimony will take their vows to one another very seriously indeed. After all…”
And though he knows he probably shouldn’t, he can’t help himself. Too late to back out now!
“Heresy is not native to the world… it is but a contrivance. ALL things can be conjoined. And so, let us all learn together, well into the future.”
There’s some shuffling at that, but only from the guests, not from any of the seven individuals standing in front of him. Still, none of the VERY powerful people he’s currently facing down move to strike him for his insolence. And so, Miriel continues on with the vows themselves. Unlike the last wedding, he asks each woman to say ‘I do’, something they do not fail to accomplish. And when he turns his attention to the Tarnished Lord, he too speaks clearly and concisely once more, for all that seems to shock many of the onlookers.
“I do.”
A simple two words, but if Miriel didn’t know any better, he’d say many of those in the Church, including a few of the Tarnished Lord’s newest brides, thought him mute! Indeed, the only one out of this latest batch (definitely not a word Miriel would ever be saying out loud) that didn’t seem surprised or taken aback by his ability to speak, was the one called Melina, the one who had been named kindling maiden.
Interesting, to say the least… but none of Miriel’s business, even now. The rings are brought out, this time presented by Master Hewg himself. The Smithing Master walks forward and places the rings into the Tarnished Lord’s hands one at a time, allowing him to in turn place them on the fingers of those they belong to.
Just like the last batch, each is customized and specialized, but of course, Miriel has no more eye for jewelry making then he does for fashion. It’s all woefully wasted on him, but at least the Queens and their daughters seem happy with them. Indeed, Master Hewg actually damn near faints on the spot when Queen Marika of all people reaches out and places a hand upon his brow.
“Thank you, Hewg, for your ever-exemplary service.”
That seems like a Big Deal, judging by the reactions from many, but Miriel is just here to oversee the wedding, really. With the rings all on their proper fingers, and Marika and Ranni working to put a second wedding ring, much more ostentatious than the first, on their Elden Lord’s finger, everything is as it should be.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wives!”
There’s a raucous cheer from the audience, as the newly married Goddesses, Demigods and… Others, go about getting their kisses from their new husband. Miriel watches all of this with a sense of bewildered pride. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same… but also, damn if these weren’t some massive changes, at the end of the day.
Still, his part in the event was done, and like last time, everyone in the cramped, overcrowded Church filed out onto the beautiful grassy plain outside for… well, it wasn’t quite a picnic, so much as it was a massive party more akin to an impromptu celebratory festival than anything else. Miriel was all too happy to stay inside, even as he was approached once more by Boc the Seamster.
“I must thank you, Pastor Miriel, for your assistance. Without those tools you gave me… why, I don’t know what I would have done.”
Chuckling, Miriel just shakes his head.
“You would have found a way, even without my help, young Boc. Or if not you, then that Lord of yours. Certainly, if he found a way to bed twelve women well enough for them all to deign to wed him collectively, he could have managed this much.”
Boc grins hesitantly at that and bobs his head. After a moment of companionable silence, Miriel looks around his rebuilt Church with a happy sigh.
“I must thank you, my friend. None of this reconstruction would have been possible without you. And those dresses you made with the golden set of tools I gave you… were truly inspired. You yourself are the Master now. The tools help, but you are every bit as worthy of the title of Royal Seamster as anyone else… nay, more so than anyone else I would argue.”
His piece said, Miriel looks over to Boc for a response, only to see the demi-human monkey frozen in wide-eyed shock. Finally, Boc speaks.
“You… consider me your friend?”
Blinking, the large turtle snorts irreverently.
“THAT’S what you focus on, little seamster? Hah, of course we are friends! Tis the easiest thing in the world, to make friends with such a capable being as you! Why-!”
Miriel’s words are cut off by a sudden happy wail from the little demi-human, followed by Boc throwing himself at the Pastor of Vows and hugging his shell as he sobs into it. Miriel blinks at this, a little bewildered… but also pleased.
“There, there. Let it all out.”
The future, it would seem, looked quite bright indeed. Miriel couldn’t wait to see what came next for the Lands Between.
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