* * *
The ceremony was performed in the garden. Oma was in charge and Uncle Adam was the witness.
“I cannot understand children these days.” He shook his head. “What is there to rush about?”
“Oh, you will never understand, old man.” Oma teased. “It’s what is called innocent love.”
“Oh?”
“Uncle Adam, may I ask why you don’t have a partner?” I blurted out. Oma giggled. Uncle Adam shot her an annoyed look.
“Um…actually, I don’t have someone that I can hand over my life and my soul to yet.” He sighed. “Not that I have found one.”
“It’s because he’s too weird to get on with.” Oma said. “I remember the days how Alice’s father, totally different from him, could even draw attention from girls across the mountains. But Adam is just not that charming like his dear brother. No girls bother to go out with him.”
“Enough, Oma.” Uncle Adam said, irritated. “I hate you.”
“So do I.”
The way they talked did not quite convince me they were actually adults. With eternal youth, they looked more or less in mid-twenties, but they talked like children. I wondered if it was because of the exterior which never grew old that kept their mind so immature. Even when Demonia saw her son, she behaved like a girl. She acted more like Len’s sister than his own mother.
“But you do hang out with Sir. Grimmel, Oma.” Jim said. “Perhaps you two are meant to be together.”
“Oh, shut up, boy.” Uncle Adam and Oma shouted at the same time. We all laughed.
“Okay, are you ready?”
Len and I nodded. In front of us were three roses of different colors- white, red and black.
We were ordered to hold out one of our hands. Len held out his right hand. Standing on his right- hand side, I held out my left hand. Our hands touched. Oma took out a knife and cut our wrists. This time, the cut was so deep that I clinched at first. I was cut twice in one day but it was worthwhile.
Blood dripped from our wounds onto the first white rose.
Len and I began to speak the lines we had been requested to memorize some minutes ago.
“From the day we were born, together our fates were hooked.”
Blood spread all over the white petals, darkening them.
We moved on to the next red rose.
“In the present we stand, in this garden of love we will, care and love each other with all our heart.”
The red rose was darkened and gradually turned black.
Standing at the final rose, we took a deep breath before continuing.
“When the day it comes to an end, even in the fire of hell, our love remains.”
Now, all the three roses in front of us were black. The initially black one was blacker than ever.
A sudden chill went over my body and I trembled. Len felt the same way too because he also trembled.
“The knot of your souls will never be untied from now on.” Oma declared.
“Black is the color of death.” Oma added. “Birth has witnessed your love, so white is gone. The presence proves your passion towards each other, but the flowers never bloom forever this way. It’s death, which, in the end, can really show the best. God bless you. I hope even death cannot do you part.”