THE END OF BEGINNINGS

SIXTEEN (Part 1)

Silver moonlight stretched across the holy plaza as the rocky satellite rose above the hills and trees.  Moros watched it from behind the altar.  He was hypnotized by its ascent into the night sky and the ceremonial music accompanying its movement.  The loud, rhythmic chanting and harmonized drum play captivated Moros' ears.  The melodies were simple while the meanings of the sounds were complex.  Every mallet hit against the tight drum heads, every inflection of the voices booming the long chant through the night had a specific purpose, a unique importance, and a spiritual significance.  Moros didn't really understand it.  That didn't change how impressive he found it all.
He couldn't quite see what was going on at the front of the alter and shrine.  He had been able to watch the bride and groom enter the plaza in the midst of a procession of family members and spiritual envoys.  They had marched with slow and rehearsed movements between the gathered crowd.  Moros admired how beautiful the couple looked.  Their hair had been washed and styled expertly.  Their smooth skin glowed in the bright light of the smoldering crystals.  Even their outfits looked radiant to the awe-struck teenager.
They both were wearing gowns dyed the whitest hue possible.  The groom's long tunic was similar in style to the darker-dyed cloth Moros was wearing.  The bride's dress was long and flowing.  Two ends were tied loosely behind her neck while the ivory bodice hugged the front of her chest and wrapped low around her sides.  The long skirt came to just above her calves, its hemline adorned with a thin garland of soft, pale ivy.
Now the couple was standing at the head of the plaza, obscured by the oblong, vine and flower-wrapped arbor that had been built for the occasion.  The high priest of the Aganni stood between them, leading them through each important step of the ceremony.  Moros began to think back to what he remembered seeing at a wedding his family had been invited to watch a year earlier.  Just then, a noise from over his shoulder quickly pulled the seventeen-year-old out of his thoughts.
The others Moros was standing with were already moving.  He joined them at the long, wide cart that had been parked near the plaza.  It was rectangular in shape, open on each side, and sat upon six heavy, stone wheels connected by three thick, wooden axels which stretched the width of the mobile platform.  Moros set to work helping to untie the binds holding down a large, animal-skin tarp.  He could just barely hear the slow breathing of the sedated beast underneath the heavy covering.  He still couldn't believe the plan had worked, or that he'd been able to help in capturing the powerful predator.
Moros leaned closer as he untied another set of bindings at the front corner of the cart.  A strange and heavy sensation washed over him.  It felt like a kind of desperate sadness he couldn't define.  But, there was something else: longing, maybe?  Moros felt like a voice was almost calling out, sending a wordless, soundless cry that went pulsing through him.  Free from its bindings, the tarp fluttered in a passing breeze.  It was lifted away by the other villagers working at the cart.  Moonlight bathed the prone form of the captured dea'esh.  The flickering light from the burning crystals glinted off the matted ends of the creature's long, fibrous hair.
Moros felt himself inhale sharply.  A chill coursed through his body as he felt the cool breeze brush past him again.  He sensed something else around him, something strong and powerful.  Anger buzzed like electricity in the air.  Glancing around, it didn't seem like any of the other Aganni nearby could sense it.  It was only strong for a moment.  Then, it suddenly retreated to almost nothing.  He could just barely feel it hovering faintly at the edge of his mind's reach.
One of the older men in the group tapped Moros on his shoulder as he walked past the boy.  Everyone was lining up along the sides of the large cart.  Thick handles were unfolded from slots in the dense wood beams above each wheel.  Moros locked his into place.  He had been granted a spot at the front-right side.  Behind him was the leader of the group, the groom's uncle.  The older man with dark, sun-red skin blotched with a patchwork of pale-pink blotches leaned forward then gave a quick, quiet signal.
All at once, everyone at the cart braced against the handles and pushed.  The big, stone wheels cranked over once.  Everyone leaned harder into the grips in front of them.  The cart moved again, a little farther this time.  Another strong, simultaneous push and the platform was rolling steadily toward the plaza.  With each step, Moros couldn't get rid of that raging presence pacing in and out of his thoughts and senses.  The closer the cart moved toward the ceremony, the more it felt to Moros like they were being watched by something furious and hungry.

*         *         *

Moros wasn't the only one beginning to detect the powerful sensations.  Sidonia Aurallia turned her head slightly, looking away from the altar.  She furrowed her brow as she glanced around the open, audience gallery where she and her daughter were standing.  The air was practically vibrating with the dark, anxious energy.  She couldn't understand what the feeling was or where, exactly, it was coming from.  It blended and bounced against the faint, pulsing despair reverberating from someplace beyond the altar.  The gathering storm of bizarre sensations grabbing at her thoughts was truly concerning her.  Even more so was the fact that Geras had yet to arrive.
Sidonia looked down at Gerania beside her.  The thirteen-year-old hadn't seemed to take any notice of the psychic turbulence rumbling through the plaza.  By all appearances she wasn't even paying attention to the wedding.  The young girl's attention was focused, solely, on the tall boy named Shero standing a few rows away.
Sidonia shook her head then looked up, craning her neck to see over the gathered crowd of Aganni.  Something bad was coming and her husband was nowhere to be seen.