Chapter 195: The Rehearsal
**Avery**
The world, to one who has seen as many centuries as I, often moves in repeating circles. The sun rises, seasons turn, empires fall, and love, in all its fierce and fragile forms, sparks anew. Yet, watching them at the rehearsal, I felt the distinct, thrilling sensation of a pattern breaking, of a new legend being forged in the dying light of the sun.
The cliffside meadow was alive with a power that hummed against my old bones. The very air, thick with the scent of salt and wild thyme, crackled with the combined auras of six formidable men and the incandescent young woman who was their center. They stood on the makeshift altar of sea-worn stones Donn had arranged, a tableau of breathtaking power. James, a king in all but name, stood beside Avery, his hand a possessive and yet tender weight on the small of her back. Cassius and Clint flanked them, one a pillar of ancient earth, the other a blade of contained fire. Conner watched from a slight distance, his analytical gaze softened by an emotion he no longer bothered to hide. Donn, ever the rogue, was playfully adjusting the wildflowers woven into the altar, while Vincent stood like a statue carved from shadow and starlight, his presence a silent, potent vow of protection.
And Avery. My heart, a vessel of long-held memories and quiet regrets, ached with a profound sense of recognition. She wore a simple white sundress, her fiery hair a beacon against the deepening blue of the twilight sky. But it was not her beauty that held me captive. It was the light within her. A power, raw and untamed, yet tempered by a spirit of unyielding resilience. I had seen a similar light once before, in another woman, on a night cloaked in secrecy and fear.
“Alden?” James’s voice, a deep and respectful rumble, pulled me from my reverie. “Would you say a few words? Guide us through the vows, so we know the flow for tomorrow.”
I inclined my head, stepping forward. The breeze tugged at my robes, and as I looked at Avery and James, standing where they would be bound on the morrow, the present dissolved. The scent of salt and thyme was replaced by the cloying sweetness of night-blooming jasmine. The roar of the ocean faded into the whisper of a hidden waterfall.
The clearing was small, shrouded by ancient willows and spells of concealment. Layla’s hand in mine was trembling, her knuckles white. She was a vision in a simple gown of midnight silk, the silver threads catching the faint moonlight. She was a goddess in disguise, her power a beautiful, dangerous secret in a world that would have seen her destroyed for it. Beside her four dragon mates. The Eragon Brothers' lineage was so ancient and powerful that it was spoken of only in whispers. Their love for her was a fierce, desperate thing, a rebellion against fate itself. No friends were standing with them. There was only me as the kingdom looked on. I was their officiant. I remembered the feel of their combined magic as I bound them, a dizzying spiral of shadow and fire, of ancient earth and whispered secrets. It was a beautiful, volatile union, a star destined to burn brilliantly, and far too briefly.
A hand on my arm brought me back. It was Avery, her brow furrowed with concern. “Alden? Are you alright? You went somewhere else for a moment.”
I blinked, the image of Layla’s tear-streaked face fading, replaced by Avery’s worried eyes. The resemblance was not in feature, but in spirit. In the depth of her soul. A knot I hadn't realized I'd been carrying for two decades began to loosen.
“I am well, child,” I said, my voice softer than I intended. “Just…remembering.” I cleared my throat, guiding them through the ancient draconic vows, my words weaving a tapestry of commitment and shared destiny. But my decision was made. The past could no longer remain a secret. She deserved to know from whence she came.
After the rehearsal concluded and the mates were packing away the few items they’d brought, I approached her. “Avery,” I began, my tone gentle but firm. “The others have given you gifts of power and beauty for your wedding. I, too, have something for you. A piece of your history. It is a gift that must be given before you take your vows.”
All six of them stopped what they were doing, their attention snapping to me. Curiosity warred with suspicion on their faces.
“What is it, Alden?” James asked, stepping to Avery’s side, his protective instincts on full display.
“It is a journey,” I answered, my gaze fixed on Avery. “To a place in Talos you do not know, James. A place I have kept hidden. It is time she saw it.”
James’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He, who knew Talos like the back of his own hand, looked genuinely intrigued. He exchanged a look with the others, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, he nodded. “Lead the way, old friend.”
The men shifted under the light of the rising moon, their dragons taking to the sky with Vincent, Avery, and me on their backs. I led them across the shimmering expanse of Talos, over familiar forests and mountains, until I veered away from the known paths, towards a secluded valley nestled between three nameless peaks. The air here was different, thick with an older, wilder magic.
We landed in a small, circular clearing, carpeted in moss that glowed with a soft, internal luminescence. The trees surrounding us were ancient sentinels, their branches intertwined to form a living cathedral.
“Where are we?” Clint asked, his dragon form a magnificent bronze, his head swiveling to take in the potent magic of the place.
“A place of memory,” I said. The others followed suit, their eyes wide with wonder. I walked towards what looked like a dense wall of ivy and ancient roots clinging to the mountainside. Placing my palm against a specific, gnarled root, I murmured a word in the old tongue, a word of opening and welcome.
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