The parade in time turned the second corner and walked along the northern wall towards the gate at which point it would reenter. The volume in Osmar's mind seemed to increase in this point, even if it had not physically, as the climax of this small but integral part of the ceremony neared its conclusion. Perhaps the people really were cheering with increased vigor now, eager to get in every last thing that they could before the soon to be wedded coupled retreated back into the Palace and was lost from sight.
Returning to the complex from which they had departed the sound of those folk who had lined the roadways was cut short rather abruptly as the northern gates closed behind them firmly. The Palace staff though, who had returned with them back to their natural environ, continued in earnest to disturb the peace and calm of the day, some even more so than before, uncomfortably conscious of the sudden lack of volume that the loss of the crowds entailed. The temple in which Osmar and Hanna would be finally wed was shortly visible. Osmar would have liked to think that they their marriage would be taking place in a centuries old building, firmly rooted in the tradition and strength of the Empire. But the original Ancestral Temple had been burned to ash and dust with the rest of the palace and this was only an imitation of the original, albeit a decent one. That it was the original, having stood in its place for as long as history could recall, would have been a passable falsehood to anyone who did not know otherwise. While the temple may have been young by the standards of structures and buildings, the priest who stood in waiting for the couple was quite old by the standards of human beings. The Palace staff now at last ceased their noisemaking. The old priest for his part appeared to be at a happy sort of peace, and cracked his wrinkled visage with a smile as he looked at Osmar and Hanna as the two broke from the others and stepped forward.
"
Rīgeng se," he said, bowing. Osmar and Hanna both returned the gesture. When they had risen back to standing the priest spoke again. "
Tash us vaul īn?" he said, looking with intent at Osmar.
"
So." answered Osmar with a slight nod. The priest now looked at Hanna.
"
So." she said, mimicking Osmar. The priest nodded .
"
Sem e sat dī lau sai." he said and turned about, leading the two and the others in tow behind into the temple. The interior of the temple had been reconstructed in great detail just as the exterior had, every classical element of style and design preserved. The decor strode the no man's land between austere and outright over the top, resulting in an effect which was at once impressive and slightly eery. While the others, guests, friends, family and the sort that usually showed up on these sorts of occasions, filed to either side and settled themselves upon the floor Hanna and Osmar followed the priest directly to the front of the room, which drew attention to itself with the alter positioned there. It seemed an almost impenitrable clutter of statues of various gods and spirits, candles and incense and written seals and prayers. Whether they were arranged in an attempt to achieve some occult goal or simply by chance alone was impossible to tell. It was before this altar, with the priest in front of them, that Hanna and Osmar stopped, waiting for the Priest's instructions in the well practiced and predetermined routine.
"
Jī dī goch sai," intoned the Priest in a fashion that made the number of times he had said the same words in the very same situation apparent. Osmar and Hanna complied, bowing.
"
Kang dī goch sai," intoned the Priest with the same tone and prosody, and again the couple bowed.
"
Ten dī goch sai." Another command from the Priest and a third pair of bows.
"
Kaz dī goch sai." This time the two spun around to face those assembled before bowing and then promptly turning back to face the Priest. The Priest kneeled, and Osmar and Hanna followed suit. Without hesitation the elderly man broke into a prayer of the chant variety, moving his thumb back and forth across his fingers as he counted the verses of one by one in an unnecessary habitual mnemonic, rendered vestigial by the great weight of experience. Osmar for his moved his own fingers within the copious folds of his sleeves, but for the sake of nervousness rather than memory. He was not sure how long the chanted prayer went on for. It might have been very brief, but the gravitas of the moment made it seem as if it had gone over and over for several eternities before it suddenly broke, the loss of the monotonous acoustic backdrop quickly catching everyone's attention. The trio at the front of the room rose from their knees, and the two for whose sake the ceremony was being staged faced one another.
