Bridal Gift

It was common knowledge that the Smiths and the Wardens hated each other. This was what Elisha Warden reflected on as he picked his way over the ancient debris. Despite being surrounded by relics of a bygone age, rife with risk and reward, his family’s feud was what occupied Eli’s head.

Beside Elisha was Job, his Hound, its soft footsteps following its ghostly footfalls barely a fraction of a second too late, disturbing its poor illusion of life. Occasionally it would walk through an overgrown wreckage, or through the air above a sunken crevasse. It did this much more in the City than it did in the Rurals, where Eli normally lived.

The only people who came to the City were either desperate or fools, and Eli was both. He needed a bridal gift.

In the distance, a bird sang its own eulogy as it was torn to shreds by beasts. Eli stopped where he was, halfway down the slanted slope of a collapsed advertisement.

In a voice that was almost loud enough to be called a whisper, he spoke. “Wait a moment Job.” The Hound immediately stopped, its eyeless face turned towards Elisha, head tilted. “Let the beasts enjoy their meal. They’ll be full and we can continue on our way.”

As he waited, Elisha continued to think about his family, and Sarai’s. It was true that the Smiths and Wardens hated each other, yes, but there was more to the story. They continued to live in the same Rural, despite the existence of other options either could flee to. They were members of the same chapel, read the same Fracture Testament, contributed to the same society. Elisha had never heard his father speak positively of the Smiths, but nothing had ever escalated beyond words. Never.

All around Elisha where he now stood with frozen breath were monuments to what humanity had once been. Rocks, bricks, metal, piled on top of each other to form limbs reaching towards the sky, all in various forms of decay, some still mostly intact, others completely fallen. They all hid secrets, but this far from the center, many had been searched, and Elisha couldn’t afford to look through each one, especially with the danger they caused. To find a bridal gift worthy of Sarai, able to bridge the gap separating him from his love, he’d have to find something precious. He’d have to journey to the center.

Judging enough time to have passed, Elisha continued his route. On a delay, Job followed him, pursuing his recreator as was his nature.

Elisha’s footsteps were light, and he deftly avoided any ground that looked as ready to give as it was to take. As dangerous as the City was, the tunnels beneath were far worse. Very few people had come back after travelling deeply into the city. Absolutely no one had ever returned from falling under the City.

Whenever he heard the slightest sound, Elisha would completely stop. As much as he wanted to rush to his goal, he had a stronger desire to not die. Even a recreator of his family’s skill wouldn’t be able to bring him back in a meaningful way, especially if he died in the City. He’d be lost, forever.

Through painstaking process and deliberate travel, Elisha and Job reached the central area of the city. The ancient buildings here had barely been touched by human hands. Elisha could even see some crystal shards still littering the ground. In one area he saw a large, though still broken, piece of crystal standing vertically in one of the windows. Elisha’s grandmother had told Elisha that when her own grandmother was young, the crystal was so common that everyone used it in their windows, even the impoverished. Elisha wasn’t sure he could believe that, but this area certainly lent credence to those tales.

Elisha spotted the tell-tale glimmer of a derelict jeweler’s building. And despite the warnings drummed into him by his older sister, despite his years of wariness from tending the flocks, despite his heightened sense of caution, Elisha lost track of his surroundings as he eagerly stalked towards his quarry.

Elisha stepped on a pane of crystal.

The pane of crystal shattered.

The sound of the shatter echoed around the ancient civilization.

Creatures awoke.

From the tops of buildings birds startled and flew. In the waterlogged tunnels underneath the cities, great reptilian beasts languidly swished their tails. In the upper rooms of the towers, great, morbid primates opened their eyes. In the distance, great packs of Canids and Felids flicked their ears towards the noise.

However, none of these beasts made their way towards Elisha; he was in the lair of something even they feared.

Great, magnificent, beautiful coils of serpentine scales shifted and slithered, allowing an oversized head to rise high into the air, rivalling the buildings around it. The creature licked its eyes, cleaning the hibernation away from its mind. Prey had wandered into its home.

Elisha stared at this obstacle to his bridal gift, and he swallowed. His hand pulled the machete off his belt, but he was not a fighter. The serpentine creature swayed back and forth, eyes fixated on Elisha.

Physically unable to speak while face to face with the Serpent, Elisha gasped at Job, inaudibly, “Distract it.” The recreated Hound understood regardless, and it instantly rushed at the Serpent. It chose to ignore gravity and ran across the air itself. Of course, because of its nature, it could do nothing directly, but at least it could distract.

Meanwhile, Elisha sprinted towards an open building. In his mad scramble he lost his grip on the machete, but that was the absolute last worry on his mind at the moment. He ducked to avoid a flicked tail, and dashed through the dark portal, running all the way into the back of the room. Not a moment too soon as well, because the Serpent had grown tired of the insubstantial Hound and struck its head in through the empty window. It was just a bit too large though, and Elisha was saved by mere feet.

As the Serpent withdrew its head, Elisha could have almost sworn baleful intelligence was visible in its eyes. He shuddered in the dust. That creature would wait for him outside for who knows how long, and Elisha would die the moment he stepped foot outside. He knew that, as true as he knew his love for Sarai.

He hadn’t managed to flee into the Jeweler’s, so, to add despair to his disappointment, he wasn’t even able to find a bridal gift that he’d never be able to give. Elisha sat in the dust, in the dirt, in the debris, and he allowed a tear to trace its way down his cheek. He would die here on this vital, foolish mission, and he would never hold Sarai in the dark, whisper his wedding vows to her.

Elisha accepted his death, as all people eventually do, but he still wept for it.

His fists clenched in the debris, and his hand grabbed something. Something discarded. Something metallic with a chain. Something beautiful. With shocked, shuddering breaths, he drew the object up to his eyes, and resolve rushed into his heart with no regard for reality. He would survive. He would, no matter what it took.

----

Everyone knew that the Smiths and the Wardens hated each other, but when beasts ravaged the Wardens’ flock, leaving them nothing, the Smiths quietly gave a small herd of sheep to the Wardens. And when the Smiths’ house was destroyed in a great fire, the Smiths anonymously donated lumber for the construction of their new house. They hated each other, but they aided each other, because they were part of the same community.

----

Sarai was not crying, and in fact Sarai had not cried. She had wanted to, but she had made the decision not to weep. No one knew about her connection to Elisha, and she intended to keep it that way, no matter how much it pained her. Elisha had been gone for a week and a half, and everyone, even the Wardens, had accepted him as either dead or a community deserter. No one knew which was worse.

As the entire community gathered in the solemn Chapel, few faces were not more grim than usual. Losing anyone in the community was hard, even your enemy. The Minister read a passage from the Fractured Testament, a pieced-together collection of ancient texts. He spoke, and no one listened, but many mourned.

Sarai spared a side glance across the room. As always, the Wardens and the Smiths were situated on opposite sides of the aisle, as far from each other as they could be, the way it had always been.

The mishmash droning of the priest was suddenly cut off as the doors to the chapel slammed open, and a specter stumbled in.

He was covered in dust and grime, the dark coloring interrupted only by blood, both dried and fresh. He was emaciated, clearly starved. His leg was bound in a tourniquet, he leaned on a makeshift crutch. His left arm hung limply at his side, and the skin visible beneath the dust was purple and wasted. A half-visible Hound followed him into the chapel, defying holy convention.

Sarai gasped quietly as she recognized her love, Elisha. He croaked soundlessly, his mouth visibly dry.

The room was silent in awe as he laboriously made his way to the front of the chapel. No one commented as he trailed blood and dust onto the pristine floor. No sounds were made as he turned towards the Smiths’ seating. Wide eyes watched him, even the Wardens with their odd relationship with death were shocked by the sight before them, someone holding onto life through pure determination.

Elisha half fell, half kneeled in front of Sarai. His fist was clenched around something, and Sarai could see marks in his hand where his nails had dug into his palm. He struggled to open his fingers, staring at them in consternation, as if he had forgotten how to. Like the yawn of a great beast, eventually his hand opened, and he revealed a golden chain connected to a golden heart shaped piece of metal. Odd symbols were engraved on the front of it. An antique from the age when men were gods. It was the most beautiful thing Sarai had ever seen, and it meant nothing compared to her compared to battered, alive Elisha in front of her.

He opened his mouth to speak, and no words came out. He frowned and swallowed, in pain and delirium. Finally, he found his words, and they were broken, rasping and beautiful.

“The Devil tried… tried to stop me Sarai. I waited… wait for a week for her… to leave. She didn’t leave Sarai…” His eyes glazed for a moment as he relived horrors. “I made… I made my way back… back to you Sarai. Sarai… will you,” he coughed deeply, from his chest, “will you… be my bride.”

The room erupted into chaos as Sarai stared into the eyes of her true bridal gift and his relic of an age before time.