The Slokdtabina were not known to the Oksine as very romantic creatures. To be sure, they had emotions, love lives, and often cared deeply for their wards, sometimes having a physical relationship here and there, but the concept of a Slokdtaba maintaining a deep, long emotional relationship with an Okso was never one that held much water, due primarily to the incompatible lifespans in question. Since Slokdtabasa rarely lived in close quarters with one another, this avenue too was considered a moot point. However, for the girls and women fortunate enough to not live for most of their lives in relative solitude, more often than not two Slokdtabasa would fall for each other, finding much needed respite therein. Most Oksine resented the idea of a slave having loyalties other than servitude, and took punitive measures swiftly, a choice that often led to disaster.
Those amongst the survivors of the holocaust on Ksreskézo who pined for each other were a minority, in that their misery at the deaths of their masters was slightly counterbalanced by their new-found freedom. Some had been separated from their loves for decades, or even centuries, and so were quite eager to utilize whatever opportunity presented itself. It was the energy from these bonds, moreso than any other, which kindled the fires necessary to let the Lilitai gather their strength, develop an identity as a people, and escape their doomed world.
The actual marriage ritual of the Lilitai itself, called Mílitrení Alivite, or just Alivite-le, is quite modest and has been characterised by other species as a "battlefield" marriage (particularly the Lyrisclensiae, who were the first to observe many of the Lilitinaní customs in close proximity.) It requires at least one witness, but she need not speak; the initiator simply takes her lover's hands in her own, locks gazes, and asks:
"Amezrífa, ra hé sa tsutele stulitrikhe veshil kelthelekhtil kin dí?"
or, in Zeyetaní Lilitika:
"Amezría, ra hé sa tseltú stulitrús vil kelthelektil kindí?"
Which amounts to: "Lover, will you and I be a family when we grow old?"
The assent is, always in ancient Lilitic:
"Sasa kelthelektil." (We will grow old.)
or "Sa rikha zelamis." (I truly love you.)
or "Sasa stulitrikhe vis." (We are a family.)
These three phrases are extremely fossilized and are said to date back to the very start of Lilitic customs, as does the request itself. Any variation on them is considered a rejection, a task which has impeded more than a few interspecies marriages in which the /x/ sound has been difficult to pronounce. However, official (and more polite) rejections exist:
"Sasaní shúthímasa sikhasa notheluví melmekhíete ghaitil." (Our winds will carry us to different destinations.)
"Sa rikha alezifezamis." (I don't want to love you.)
"Stulitre-le alezvil." (The family won't exist.)
After agreement, the true Zelamezríasa hold their arms out to their sides, stretch out their wings, and kiss. The marriage itself is then complete.
The fídoséasa (collars) are a traditional show of affection, dating to the first Lilitic marriages. Originally, the collars were bístení fídoséasa il Oksine-le (Ksreskézaian responsibility collars; symbolic of accepting each others' burden) but Lilitai quickly developed their own and more elegant designs, replacing these as soon as they were ready to move on. Collars are generally exchanged after the wedding itself; during the wedding each Lilitu wears the one she will give to her lover. This suggests the importance of the seemingly modest ritual, in that not even a nearly-wedded lover may wear the collar that commemorates it.
There are two major ideas on how to best honour the day before the ceremony of joining. The first is the Tshentwidhildta (the story of the past) in which the couple to be married, the local matriarch, and the other Lilitai of the enclave gather to hear eulogies for the two who are about to be wedded; it is accepted that they will become something different and unified after the ceremony, and that their old lives are at an end. In fact, this ritual stems from the marriage of Reséa Sarthía and Haplenía Poaléanivía, the third Lilitai pair to be married, who were both presumed dead shortly before their scheduled matrimonial ceremony, but turned up in time.
The second marriage preface is the Tshentkoisasa, (later, Tshentoisete) in which the unmarried couple privately tours the places in which they grew up. This is not always feasible, but was the choice of the wedding of the first Matriarch, Gleméa, the Lilitu who led the exodus. The Tshentkoisasa is hence afforded huge respect amongst the Lilitai; so much so that a house's current occupants may evacuate the premises temporarily so that a prospective couple may relive their memories.
All marriage rituals hold a similar reason for their continuation—the poetic belief that adherence will somehow produce a relationship of similar successfulness. Such is the same here. Choice of pre-marriage ceremony is a very personal thing, but is not without its social semantics. When the Tshentkoisasa was first practised by Gleméa and Deztra Egrithía (a manager and an engineer, by personality), their marriage ceremony had a large audience, and the union that followed was long and prosperous, but not a major spectacle in the public eye. Sarthía and Poaléanivía (a writer and a managerial aide, respectively), on the other hand, developed a very public image, and had a passionate relationship that, while ultimately successful, had many rocky patches. These two stereotypes have lost most of their impact since the Lilitai settled on Thessia Major, but still have some bearing and memory on how Lilitic marriages are believed to evolve.
Those amongst the survivors of the holocaust on Ksreskézo who pined for each other were a minority, in that their misery at the deaths of their masters was slightly counterbalanced by their new-found freedom. Some had been separated from their loves for decades, or even centuries, and so were quite eager to utilize whatever opportunity presented itself. It was the energy from these bonds, moreso than any other, which kindled the fires necessary to let the Lilitai gather their strength, develop an identity as a people, and escape their doomed world.
The Ritual
The actual marriage ritual of the Lilitai itself, called Mílitrení Alivite, or just Alivite-le, is quite modest and has been characterised by other species as a "battlefield" marriage (particularly the Lyrisclensiae, who were the first to observe many of the Lilitinaní customs in close proximity.) It requires at least one witness, but she need not speak; the initiator simply takes her lover's hands in her own, locks gazes, and asks:
"Amezrífa, ra hé sa tsutele stulitrikhe veshil kelthelekhtil kin dí?"
or, in Zeyetaní Lilitika:
"Amezría, ra hé sa tseltú stulitrús vil kelthelektil kindí?"
Which amounts to: "Lover, will you and I be a family when we grow old?"
The assent is, always in ancient Lilitic:
"Sasa kelthelektil." (We will grow old.)
or "Sa rikha zelamis." (I truly love you.)
or "Sasa stulitrikhe vis." (We are a family.)
These three phrases are extremely fossilized and are said to date back to the very start of Lilitic customs, as does the request itself. Any variation on them is considered a rejection, a task which has impeded more than a few interspecies marriages in which the /x/ sound has been difficult to pronounce. However, official (and more polite) rejections exist:
"Sasaní shúthímasa sikhasa notheluví melmekhíete ghaitil." (Our winds will carry us to different destinations.)
"Sa rikha alezifezamis." (I don't want to love you.)
"Stulitre-le alezvil." (The family won't exist.)
After agreement, the true Zelamezríasa hold their arms out to their sides, stretch out their wings, and kiss. The marriage itself is then complete.
The Fídoséasa
The fídoséasa (collars) are a traditional show of affection, dating to the first Lilitic marriages. Originally, the collars were bístení fídoséasa il Oksine-le (Ksreskézaian responsibility collars; symbolic of accepting each others' burden) but Lilitai quickly developed their own and more elegant designs, replacing these as soon as they were ready to move on. Collars are generally exchanged after the wedding itself; during the wedding each Lilitu wears the one she will give to her lover. This suggests the importance of the seemingly modest ritual, in that not even a nearly-wedded lover may wear the collar that commemorates it.
Preparations
There are two major ideas on how to best honour the day before the ceremony of joining. The first is the Tshentwidhildta (the story of the past) in which the couple to be married, the local matriarch, and the other Lilitai of the enclave gather to hear eulogies for the two who are about to be wedded; it is accepted that they will become something different and unified after the ceremony, and that their old lives are at an end. In fact, this ritual stems from the marriage of Reséa Sarthía and Haplenía Poaléanivía, the third Lilitai pair to be married, who were both presumed dead shortly before their scheduled matrimonial ceremony, but turned up in time.
The second marriage preface is the Tshentkoisasa, (later, Tshentoisete) in which the unmarried couple privately tours the places in which they grew up. This is not always feasible, but was the choice of the wedding of the first Matriarch, Gleméa, the Lilitu who led the exodus. The Tshentkoisasa is hence afforded huge respect amongst the Lilitai; so much so that a house's current occupants may evacuate the premises temporarily so that a prospective couple may relive their memories.
Significance
All marriage rituals hold a similar reason for their continuation—the poetic belief that adherence will somehow produce a relationship of similar successfulness. Such is the same here. Choice of pre-marriage ceremony is a very personal thing, but is not without its social semantics. When the Tshentkoisasa was first practised by Gleméa and Deztra Egrithía (a manager and an engineer, by personality), their marriage ceremony had a large audience, and the union that followed was long and prosperous, but not a major spectacle in the public eye. Sarthía and Poaléanivía (a writer and a managerial aide, respectively), on the other hand, developed a very public image, and had a passionate relationship that, while ultimately successful, had many rocky patches. These two stereotypes have lost most of their impact since the Lilitai settled on Thessia Major, but still have some bearing and memory on how Lilitic marriages are believed to evolve.
