Let is never be said that Asleif was one who did not like to make an entrance.
It started suddenly, with the cawing of birds, growing louder and louder, followed by the sound of beating wings, growing louder and louder still.
And then it began to grow dark, as countless ravens in the air threatened to blot out the sun itself. They swooped down, darting amongst guests and attendees, raising an awful din.
As one, they began to fly toward the center of the aisle, in front of Iona, cawing and fluttering at they formed a virtual tornado of feathers, becoming an indistinct, inky blackness that formed itself into a humanoid figure, blackness giving way to emerald and gold clothing, pale, hauntingly beautiful features, and hair as black as night.
She threw back her arms, her cloak sweeping open in a suitably dramatic gesture.
"I doth object!"
...She had always wanted to say that.
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