The Jeweled Sky Hotel is a marvel of shape and light, a nearly perfect cube of glass, metal and stone mounted to one of the mid-level peaks of the Arctic T. mountains. Each room is bestowed a breathtaking view. To the west is the deep valley, a blanket of dazzling white in the day that deepens to a dark indigo as the sun sets, speckled with twinkling gold as the lights of the villages below flick on come the evening. Turn your gaze skyward the opposite direction, to the east, and fall under the shadows of the great titans that make up the upper level mountain range. So large are the peaks that when the air is clear, they appear deceptively close. Guests in the early days would plan casual climbing trips only to be given a harsh reality check - the nearest feasible options are an hour’s drive away. The tantalizing peaks to the east are out of the question - the closest would take over a week to summit, even at an expert’s pace.

But an indoor stay has plenty to offer. Despite the hotel’s sleek modern design, it was one of the first structures built by the Central army in what was previously enemy territory. The seemingly precarious cliff on which it is constructed, walled in by the upper range, was a ‘recommendation’ from the Northern military. Some speculate that this was an intimidation tactic, a final snub before the North front relinquished the area. However it was with cooperation with new Northern allies that allowed the hotel to be completed, and through blizzards and winds, avalanches and ice-cold rain, it safely stood the test of time. A great monument to unity against all odds.

The perfect location for another such bond to be officiated - one between human and Life Fountain. So proclaims Augustine Kir during a wedding speech.

The private, plainclothes rehearsal goes, in the words of Augustine’s father Andon Kir, ‘remarkably smoothly’. The press has caught him in a good mood - rumor has it one of the wedding guests is a renown screenwriter who took the opportunity to scout him for a role. I’m proud of my boy. You should have heard his speech - I knew it all along. He’s no fool.

Augustine’s mother Nia is effusive. She shows off the embroidered woolen shawl draped over her silk gown - authentic Northern matrimonial clothing. We want her to feel at home. Television pundits would later remark that those embroidered patterns did originate in the Northern territories, but were not popular among the Life Fountains clans. Incidentally, no Life Fountains, Northern or otherwise, were in attendance.

Nia also shows off the food, taking particular pains to plate a gravely looking slab - pale gray on the outside, with an inner texture that resembles cooked steak. It’s a local delicacy in her culture. Snow frog - it’s actually a mushroom. Very ethnic.

This rare fungus was one of the specialty exports from Roha’s hometown - after the wedding, it blossomed in popularity. Roha loves them, Nia gushes.

Ruther Kir, Augustine’s grandmother and theater maven, is the one footing the Jeweled Sky Hotel’s considerable bill. Recently widowed, she is present at the wedding but keeps to herself. (She declined to make any comment then, and has continued her vow of silence even in the present.)

—

September 200x. Noon. It’s a frantic run-up that always seems to precede any wedding ceremony. In the hall leading to the dressing rooms, Petra in mint-green chiffon and Calya in lavender are directing a storm of chefs, hairdressers, cleaners and stylists. There is plenty of screaming and the occasional impromptu burst into tears.

Emile comes out of one of the rooms and asks someone to help with his bow tie. He is ignored.

In the largest of the dressing rooms, the all-important bridal gown is rolled out on a large rack, an extravagantly low-cut garment of white sheer shrouds, laced with buds of baby’s breath and blue anemone. The trains billow out behind the rack like smoke. Five assistants unfurl the piece and pull it onto the bride who has just woken from a midday nap. Simultaneously, they flip the veil, primp the tulle, curl her hair, and do it all again, at the furious cries of Petra Kir.

Not so much makeup! He said not so much colored makeup! Remember?

At that forceful reminder, Roha asks where Augustine is. She is seemingly hoping to quell Petra’s shrieks and sobs. Indeed, the chaotic whirl of bodies around her slows at the sound of her voice. Air coming to calm in the eye of a hurricane.

Petra smooths her hair back and looks to the camera that has been set up to capture the preparatory drama. She takes a deep, sharp breath, and forces a smile.

Let’s not worry about that. It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding.

—

Present at the celebration and preserving the good luck in her own way is old AK Undercovers videographer Lis A. She had decided to forgive Augustine for his transgressions, from running away on vacation with Roha to letting her and Vira fend for themselves during the court debacle. The two share drinks and mingle. When Augustine complains that he is ‘sick of thanking [his parent’s] friends, seems like a neverending queue of them,’ they retreat to his hotel room. There, they reminisce about their school days, and the future of the channel.

‘It was my last chance,’ Lis says, ‘and I’ll have you know, after what happened that night, I don’t regret a thing.’

—

It’s four hours before the ceremony when Roha wanders out of the changing area, still in her dress. Bypassing the festivities that fill the restaurant and most of the lobby, she takes an elevator back to her room - the one she shares with Augustine. It’s not hard to guess what she has in mind - a few winks before tying the knot.

The train of her dress is bunched in one hand and the camera from the dressing room is in another. The camera is still rolling, though she does not realize it. It catches her reflection, a ghostly form wreathed in white and blue, outline further mottled in the metal of the elevator door. She hums a familiar tune as the elevator rises.

Augustine and Lis can be heard from outside the couple’s room. Roha swipes the keycard and pushes open the door. Naturally, she immediately turns to her left, and the camera takes in the full spectacle of Kir thrusting against his nude assistant over the bathroom sink.

Roha says nothing and quickly continues into the bedroom. There is a strange grunt from behind her and Lis starts a beseeching cry.

You have to stop her! Talk to her! The stupid cunt was recording! Why did she have a camera? Did you give her the camera?

Augustine can be heard stumbling from the bathroom. He approaches Roha with soft murmurs. She cuts him off with uncharacteristic pointedness.

Stay there and look away.

I’m sorry, babe. I-I’ll leave you alone now. I’ll explain things to everyone.

No, you don’t have to go. Just wait for me to switch clothes. It’s bad luck to see…

A pause, then a laugh. Petra told you that, didn’t she? Bad luck to see the dress, or some nonsense? There’s no need to be so superstitious.

I’ll turn off the lights first.

What higher power do you have to fear? Come here - I want to see that dress - gorgeous. Am I dreaming? You’re a real life angel. You know, this is the first time I’ve seen you in a super-fancy dress, but talk about worth it. Ah, and more than anything now - his voice lowers - I can’t wait to see you out of it.

The camera has been deposited on the bed facing the wrong way, but a familiar, hazy blue light begins to coat the scene. There is a mewling from near the doorway, and Augustine turns to give his assistant her final dismissal.

Lis, get your clothes on and get out. It’s been fun, but I don’t want to see you again for a long, long time.

In my interview with her, over 20 years later, Lis repeats his line word-for-word. She punctuates it all with a vicious sigh. ‘The god-forsaken idiot. And her - she didn’t care. If only she was normal, had thrown him out and called it off like a sane woman, everything could have been avoided… but no, she had those those dead eyes, that la-de-da talk and not giving a shit, she wouldn't care even if the groom was fucking someone else on wedding night right in front of her - and all those were exactly the reasons he fell for her.’

I notice, when the story reaches this point, her face is no longer red. ‘Whatever. His funeral.’

—

The ceremony proceeds without a hitch.

There is a slight panic during the half-hour where the Kir sisters are unable to locate the bride and groom, but before chaos can be unleashed, Augustine and Roha descend back into the lobby by the main elevator. Petra scolds Roha and claps one of the massive itinerary pamphlets over Augustine’s face, saying it’ll be his fault if the wedding is jinxed just because he felt compelled to sneak a look at the dress. Laughs all around.

The wedding is undertaken in the repurposed cathedral - now open for the press - which is set in a large cutout in the rocky cliff. The inner sanctuary is grey stone draped with gleaming white banners, soft and hard all at once; 200m in height and conical in shape; beams of brutalist concrete radiating from a single point at the uppermost tip of the atrium. There are seats for up to 1000 revelers to pay tribute to what takes the central podium, or bask in the views of the sky. The enormous outward-facing wall of the cutout is made up of a vast, triangular window. From outside, from down in the valley, it resembles a glassy diamond, half-mined from the mountain face.

The sun sets early this far north, and snow falls almost every evening. So it is against a backdrop of stars and snow on an inky blue night, adorned in fine silk and leather, lace and ice-blue flowers, the couple come together in front of the military officiate.

The rehearsal appears to have done its job. Roha answers to all of the vows promptly and sweetly. Augustine replies with the assurance of a true gentleman.

Calya, Petra and Emilie have all been allocated cameras and front row seats, and (the three confirmed later) some very thorough training. The kiss is captured from three spectacular angles.

—

So-o-o where’s the lucky lady?

From one of the cream-colored lounge chairs, Augustine pauses to glance at the camera, then back at the flute of champagne in his hand, the reflection of the milling crowd. He smiles, sheepishly.

Wait. Don’t tell me - she turned in early.

Untwist those panties, Petra. I think we can excuse a bit of fatigue today, of all days.

She’s an immortal creature, centuries old and shit, the least she can do is grace us with her presence, after all the time and money Grandma put into this.

As far as I can tell, Grandma Rue’s turned in early herself. I might be heading up soon too - first night after a wedding, got some consummation–

Not this again. I’m not one of your basement-dwelling little cronies, I’ve seen you and her in real life. How are you going to do anything when she’s asleep?

Augustine’s placid smile in the moment resembles that of his wife.

You’re still jealous, huh, Pet? That little brother’s pulled ahead…

Don’t try to turn this into my problem. What are you so proud of, anyway? This isn’t what you wanted, is it? Your wife won’t even sit with you after the wedding. You’re already regretting everything.

Like you’re bound to regret Mr. Kelbi?

Petra thrusts the camera at his lap and he whines in mock-protest. Don’t just throw these things around, Pet. I need them…

Are you seriously going to keep going with those videos of yours?

I didn’t say that.

Augustine uprights the camera one-handed and points it at Petra’s face, zooming in on her reddening nose, her smeared eyeliner. She scowls.

How about a smile, Pet?

You’re planning something.

I’m planning my long and happy life, that I’ll be spending with my new forever-young wife.

You’re lying. God, you are transparent. But - no, I’m done here. I’m done wiping up your messes. I hope you get it. That long, happy life.

—

It’s right there, on the tape, Petra bleats, just days later. I knew he was up to something. Just find the tape. The card. The camera. Please!

In front of the plentiful press, Petra is in tears. Despite their last argument - or perhaps, because of it - she is overcome with guilt and fear for her brother.

After retiring to his room, he does not resurface the following day, or the day after. On the first day, the family expects that he’s sleeping in. The second day, they expect he’s at the afterparty he arranged with his online following. It is not until the third day that the family attempts to call him, they’re supposed to be coordinating their departure from the hotel. Augustine is unreachable, and his online profiles have been silent. No indication of having attended any party.

The Kirs begin to suspect something is wrong.

The seniors readily convince the hotel staff to open his room, but he is not inside. The bedding is only minimally disturbed, and his pajamas remain in their suitcase. Of slight suspicion is the wine bottle he shared with Lis during their pre-matrimonial tryst (this and dyed-yellow hairs in the bathroom force her to come clean, though she too lost track of him after the ceremony). Conspicuously, his thick down jacket, snow boots, and camera have gone missing with him.

It becomes known that Petra was the last person to see Augustine Kir alive and well.

The last person aside from Roha that is - who in the following days is also nowhere to be found.