Epilogue 2: Ceremony

Epilogue 2: Ceremony
Weeks swept past in a blur of rest, work, and reorganization.
Under Isorai’s directioin, the ancient lands of the Southern Council were formally restored as the Moongrove territories. The stagnant poison of the vroth was entirely purged, replaced by a surge of vital, roaring magic that accelerated the growth of the wild wood. With the combined efforts of the resurrected covens, the rebuilding of the long-fallen home cities began in earnest.
But before the governance of a new age could fully consume them, a promise had to be kept.
Deep within a private, sun-dappled glade at the very heart of the Grove, far from the eyes of ministers and magistrates, Isorai and Ruhkaal stood opposite one another. The air was warm, smelling of wild jasmine and the clean scent of lightning.
This was their Vire and Thane ceremony, and though she had no reservations about taking his torc and tying themselves together in a witch bond, she was nervous.
Ruhkaal looked at her, his golden eyes burning with a soft, reverent heat that rivaled the sun. Reaching up to his neck, he pulled off the heavy, beautifully forged torc. Sometime during the ritual, it had turned gold and sprouted rubies. 
“I’ve carried this for a long time,” He offered it to her. “I am eternally grateful that I get the chance to finally put it where it’s always belonged.”
With steady, reverent hands, he slid the heavy metal around her neck, the elemental fire within the glass flaring to life and warming the metal against her skin.
Isorai raised her hand, her spear appearing in her grasp as she initiated the ancient witch bonding rites. She drew a thin line across her palm, and Ruhkaal did the same with his claw. When they pressed their hands together, the magic of the Moongrove line and the elemental fire of their shifter forms, reached out and twined together, bonding their souls from now into their next lives.
"You're stuck with me now, step-sibling," Ruhkaal murmured against her lips, his grin breaking through his solemnity.
"I count it as my greatest victory," Isorai whispered back, pulling him down into a deep, definitive kiss.
The private peace didn't last long, as the people who had attended, demanded a celebration.
By evening, the new Moongrove capital, built just outside the threshold of the Grove, erupted into a massive, raucous festival of lights and music. The plazas were filled with thousands of witches, shiifters, and humans dancing under a canopy of floating lanterns.
Draevir arrived late to the festivities in his grand humanoid form, laughing, bright-eyed and alone. 
“I was hoping we got to meet him.” Isorai pouted. “Your hiding us at this point.”
He laughed. "I can't linger, High Matron," Draevir rumbled as he approached Isorai and Ruhkaal’s high table, a deep, tectonic chuckle vibrating in his throat, drawing attention and shaking the earth. "I left my mate in charge of the reconstruction in Bharin, and if I stay away much longer, he’ll overtax himself. But you can look forward to being hosted in Bharin for our own Vire and Thane ceremony once he and I finally come to an agreement on the terms."
Isorai laughed, leaning against Ruhkaal’s shoulder. "We wouldn't miss it, Draevir."
“Before I go… I have a favor to ask.” Draevir grinned, his eyes locking onto a specific group of witches near the hearths. "I need to borrow a few of your newly revived witches to help fortify and explore the castle structures in Bharin. Specifically, him."
He pointed a heavy finger toward one of the resurrected Stormfire witches—a young-looking man with striking, lightning-white hair and eyes that  crackled with electrical currents. He had the exact same restless energy that defined Draevir himself.
"Consider it done," Isorai agreed, raising her chalice. "Just make sure you also have supervision."
As Draevir laughed, but he agreed. After hugs, he departed. The crowd shifted again, and Isorai’s eyes narrowed with a sudden, intense curiosity. Walking through the garden gates together were Aerun and Iolaire. They weren't holding hands, but their proximity, the subtle synchronization of their strides, and the way Iolaire’s gaze constantly drifted to the side of Aerun's face spoke volumes. They were very clearly involved.
"Look at that," Isorai nudged Ruhkaal, her voice dripping with amusement. "I turn my back and your other cousin steals my new friend.”
“They have history. If anything, you stole her.” Ruhkaal chuckled, catching her hand. “I’m looking forwrd to asking invasive questions soon, but long after we’ve danced.”
He pulled her out onto the grand stone dance floor, the music shifted into a slow, sweeping melody. Isorai rested her head against his chest, the rhythmic thumping of his heart a comforting contrast to the roar of the crowd.
But as they spun under the light of the full moon, a sudden, cold jolt shot straight through her. The future opened to her. 
The sounds of the flute and drums faded into a distant echo. Her vision doubled, the stone floor beneath her boots dissolving into a vision of blinding, pure silver light. The Elemental Palace of Elithor’s main ballroom stretched out around her. It looked to be hosting another Calling. Standing at the grand threshold was Kharthriya, her silhouette entirely wreathed in a brilliant, celestial silver aura. Beside her, the clouds parted as Thaeryn and his queen arrived. Thaeryn’s eyes snapped to Kharthriya and he stepped away from his queen without hesitation to chase Kharthriya as she turned to run.
The vision snapped shut as quickly as it had opened, leaving Isorai gasping for air against Ruhkaal’s chest.
"Isorai? What is it?" Ruhkaal asked, his hand steadying her back, his golden eyes sharp with concern.
Isorai looked up at him and smiled.
"Just a premonition of how… interesting things are going to be now that the Wretched Choir isn’t the primary threat.” She lifted on to her toes to whisper. “I believe you’re going to get another one of your wishes soon.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Which wish that?”
“You’ll have to wait and sea.” She grinned. 
“Just know that the New Dawn will be coming soon."
He narrowed his eyes but gasped as the words sank in. He glanced over to where Thaeryn was speaking with one of the revived High Matrons.
“Well… that will be interesting.” He grinned, and his eyes brightened. “Though we should really tell Draevir before it happens.”