The Unnamed Saga: Sisters and Song, Chapter Three: "A Celebration of Silence"

Chapter Three: A Celebration of Silence

 

Open on Zara lying in bed.  She looks tired and is staring at the ceiling despondently.  Her right arm is draped over her forehead.  Her hair fanned out on the pillow.

Someone knocks at the door and Zara’s left eyebrow twitches.

There is another timid knock but Zara stares at the ceiling.

 

Elsea, behind the door: “M’lady, are you awake?”

 

Zara doesn’t move.

 

Elsea, behind the door: “I’m sorry, Miss Mary, but I don’t think she’s awake just yet.”

 

Mary, behind the door: “Mayhap we should take the time to wake her, then.”

 

Elsea, behind the door: “But, Miss Mary…”

 

Mary, behind the door: “No time for arguments, good lady, I’ve a delivery to make!”

 

Mary bursts through the door carrying a tray.

Zara sits up irritably.  Her hair is sticking out at all odd angles.  She has bags under her eyes.

 

Zara: “Must you always be so loud?”

 

Mary: “Must you always sleep so soundly and in excess?”

 

Zara: “I wasn’t asleep.  I simply wasn’t receiving guests.”

 

Mary looks back at the door.

She looks forward and smiles.

Mary: “Well, it does seem you are now, doesn’t it?”

Mary sets up the tray over Zara’s lap.

Mary: “And we’ve brought with us breakfast, but eat quickly, for we must hurry.  You’ve a dire need of a bath, and we’ve many places to be before day’s end.”

 

Zara looks down at the tray.  A platter sits on it with a lid over it.

Show Zara’s warped reflection in the lid.

Zara lifts the lid. There is cheese and bread tucked underneath.

Zara nibbles happily at the cheese.

Zara: “And where do we need to be exactly?”

 

Mary: “My, aren’t you inquisitive in the morning?  It shall have to suffice to know that our activities will likely raise your spirits.  Nothing else may be revealed.”

 

Zara: “My spirits need no raising, nor do I plan to raise from this bed, if it is all the same to you.”

 

Mary: “It isn’t.”

 

Zara: “Excuse me?”

 

Mary: “It isn’t the same to me.  Now, hurry!  Eat, bathe, and meet me in the foyer in short order.  And none of that lethargy that would be considered working at your own leisure, please.  I want to be out before the sun is high.”

 

Mary sweeps out of the room.

Zara, mouth full of cheese, stares out the door irritably.

Show Elsea staring back bashfully.

 

Zara: “You tell that witch that should I rise from this bed, it will only be to wait by the docks.”

 

Elsea: “I would, m’lady, but I don’t think that she will listen.”

 

Cut to the Silvaran resistance base interior.  It is early morning.  Dreary light spills through the cracks in the walls.  Dawn is lying in bed with a dirty blanket draped over her.  She has her eyes closed.  Noise bleeds through the thin walls.

Dawn groans.

She rubs her eyes.

She sits up.

She yawns.

She stares at the curtain that is her doorway.

Dawn: “What in the world is that?”

She climbs from the bed.

She makes her way through the front room.

The front room is empty and dark.  Nick can be heard outside speaking with Sir Thomas.

 

Nick, outside: “If you would just let me in to see her, we could have this all sorted out.”

 

Thomas, outside: “I have no idea who you are looking for.”

 

Nick, outside: “The princess, of course.”

 

Thomas, outside: “The princess isn’t here.  She is, of course, across the channel.  Or hadn’t you heard?”

 

Nick, outside: “That’s strange.  I’ve heard rumors to the contrary for weeks now, and I have news that she would quite like to hear.”

 

Thomas, outside: “Even were she here, which she’s not, you have nothing for her.  So, I suggest you move along before you’re moved by force, boy.”

 

Nick, outside: “Now, now, all of this grandstanding isn’t necessary, guys.  I come in peace, I swear.”

 

Thomas, outside: “By the gods, if you don’t go, you’ll leave in pieces.”

 

Dawn peeks her head out of the door.

Show the outside street. The sky is dreary gray.  The royal guard is seated outside.  They are dressed like other peasants.  Sir Thomas stands in the doorway and has Nick by the shirt.  The other guards are watching in preparation.  They have their hands on their daggers.

Dawn steps out into the room.

She steps between Sir Thomas and Nick and forces them apart. Nick stumbles back. Sir Thomas looks surprised.

 

Dawn: “Okay, what in the hells is going on out here?”

 

Thomas: “M’lady, we’ll handle this.  You can…”

 

Nick: “M’lady?”

 

Dawn: “Actually, Thomas, I’ll handle it, thank you.”

 

Thomas: “But…”

 

Dawn: “No, no buts.  You’re not being nearly as inconspicuous as you like to believe, standing watch, rough-housing solicitors…”

 

Thomas: “We can’t trust anyone.”

 

Dawn: “This is my city, Thomas.  We should trust everyone not bearing the Fionan wolf.”

 

Thomas: “But, m’lady…”

 

Nick: “There it is again.”

 

Dawn: “Does he look like a Fionan soldier to you?”

 

Thomas: “No, but he doesn’t look harmless, either.”

 

Dawn: “Really?”

Dawn looks at Nick.

Dawn: “He looks a bit clueless to me.”

 

Nick: “Hey, now.”

 

Dawn: “Now, get back inside.  All of you.”

 

Thomas,: “No, I won’t…”

Dawn glares.

Sir Thomas huffs.

He looks at the other guards, who shy away.

He looks back at Dawn.

Thomas: “Let’s go.”

 

Dawn turns to Nick.

Dawn: “I apologize for their behavior.”

 

Nick shrugs.

Nick: “They’re just doing their jobs.”

 

Dawn nods.

 

Nick: “Anyhow, now that we’re alone, let me introduce myself.  I’m Nicholas, Nick to my friends.”

He winks.

Nick: “You can call me Nick, if you like.”

 

Dawn: “So, Nicholas, you wanted to talk to me?”

 

Nick: “Er, yeah, I do, assuming you’re princess Dawn Estein of Silvara.”

 

Dawn: “That would be me, yes.  Come on, let’s talk about this inside, because though it pains me to admit it, they are right.  The streets aren’t exactly safe with the Fionan boots stomping around.”

 

Nick: “Yeah, I’m thinking that house might be unsafe for me right now.”

 

Dawn: “On my name as an Estein, I swear to you, you’ll come to no harm.”

 

Nick: “No offense, but with what your name is worth now…”

Dawn glares.

Nick: “I’ll take you at your word, though.”

 

Cut to the Anthem mansion interior, to the foyer.  Mary is waiting at the doors.

Show Elsea and Zara come into the room.  They are dressed in light clothing that breathes.  Elsea is carrying a basket.  Zara is carrying a sour expression.

 

Zara: “This had better be worth all the trouble, Mary.”

 

Mary: “Oh, it shall be, I promise you that.  And might I say, you do look lovely with all the grease washed from your hair, princess.”

 

Zara: “I wish I could return the sentiment.”

 

Cut to Silvara, the resistance base interior.  The rain has returned and is battering the roof.  Water leaks through cracks.  The royal guard is collected in the corners of the room watching Nick.  They have their hands on their blades.

Show Sir Thomas on the edge of his seat.  He is leaned forward and has his fingers pressed together.

Show Nick pacing in the center of the room.

He stops at the far wall.

He runs his finger along the wall.

He looks at the dust that collects on his finger.

Nick: “Hey, I like the choices you’ve made with this place.  All the dust makes it look lived in.”

 

Thomas: “Don’t touch anything.  The princess will deal with you shortly.”

 

Nick: “Oh, so she is a princess now, is she?”

 

Thomas: “Keep up the attitude and you’ll soon become a dead man.”

 

Dawn enters from the curtain in the wall.  She is wearing her cloak and travel gear.

She glares at Sir Thomas.

Dawn: “Sir Thomas, mind your tongue.  That’s no way to speak to a guest.”

 

Thomas: “Of course, m’lady.  I apologize.”

 

Dawn: “Now, Nick, if you don’t like our particular brand of hospitality or our décor then you should talk fast and leave.”

 

Nick: “No, no, I’m sorry if I come across as ungrateful.  Your hospitality has been quite hospitable.  I was just making conversation with your fine men.  That’s all.”

 

Dawn: “They’d rather talk weapons to dust.”

 

She crosses the room.

She settles at the table.

 

Nick: “Ah.  See, thing is, I don’t know much about swords and all that.”

 

Dawn: “Then what do you know about?”

 

Nick: “That would you care about? Quite a bit, actually.”

 

Dawn: “Then no more games.  Get to the point, before I lose my temper and throw you out myself.”

 

Nick: “Right.”

Nick wipes the dust from his hand off on his pants.

Nick: “I have information that you, and the resistance that follows you, will find interesting.”

 

Dawn: “Yes?”

 

Nick: “I imagine by now that you’ve heard reports of resistance bases all along the border being raided and razed.”

 

Dawn looks at the guard.

Show the guard with their hands on their weapons.

She looks back.

Dawn: “Yes, we have.”

 

Nick: “Then you must be realizing that Fiona is tightening the noose.”

 

Dawn: “I think I get it, but elaborate, please.”

 

Nick: “The Fionan military has created a line across the border, all volunteers fighting for their country, mind you, and they’re closing rank.  Their intended goal is the capital.”

 

Dawn: “They’re coming for Silverthrone?”

 

Nick: “Silverthrone is lost.  They’re coming for the city, and no stone will be left unturned.  Or so I’m told.”

 

Thomas: “And who told you this, exactly?”

 

Nick: “I have friends in the military.”

 

Thomas: “I’m sure you do.  What are you, then, a spy?”

 

Nick: “An actor, actually, with the Dragonfly Theatre Company.”

 

Dawn: “I don’t believe I’ve heard of you.”

 

Nick: “That doesn’t surprise me, much.  We’re fairly new, started only months before the king’s assassination. All of this mess has been bad for business.”

 

Dawn: “Yeah, that’s interesting and all, but what does this have to do with us?”

 

Nick: “We do shows around here for the troops to raise moral, and we hear things.  A few soldiers told me about the noose, as they call it, and they always do it in hushed breaths.  They want to route the resistance. To kill them. To kill you, princess.”

 

Dawn: “Well, that is valuable information to have.”

 

Thomas: “Why are you telling us?”

 

Nick: “Because…”

 

Thomas: “Continue.”

 

Nick: “Because we made home here long before Fiona burnt it up.  Because war is bad for business.  Because, and here’s the best part, we may just be your way out of the city.”

 

Dawn: “What do you mean?”

 

Nick: “I mean, before the soldiers descend like ravens to pick apart this freshly killed corpse, we are traveling to the Academy to put on a show.  We’ve been hired to perform for their anniversary.  The troupe is quite large.  A few extra faces will be able to pass the check points without much notice.”

 

Dawn and Sir Thomas exchange looks.

 

Thomas: “I don’t like this.”

 

Dawn: “Noted.  Now, Nicholas, you can get us passage with your troupe?”

 

Nick: “Yes, I believe I can.”

 

Dawn: “And what do you get out of it?”

 

Nick: “What do you mean?”

 

Dawn: “I mean, I lead the resistance, but I’m not an idiot.  Fiona’s won the war.  We’re simply trying to keep the embers burning until someone can stir it up and start another fire.  You say war’s bad for your business.  So, why fan the flames?”

 

Nick: “Maybe because I don’t see saving your life as fanning the flames.”

 

Dawn: “You’re not answering my question.  Why are you helping us?”

 

Nick: “Because, Silvara is a nation of artists and scholars.”

 

Dawn: “Yeah, it is. And?”

 

Nick: “And because Fiona may favor us for now, but I’ve seen how Fiona treats those it favors.  Simply put, Metis frightens me.  More than that, he doesn’t engender trust.  The princess Zara, your sister, is across the channel.  The only royalty left on Silvaran soil may die as soon as a week from now.  It is my duty as a Silvaran son to save her.”

Nick smiles dashingly.

Nick: “Besides, I had hoped that the fair maiden might reward me with a kiss.”

 

Sir Thomas stands.

Thomas: “How dare you!”

 

Dawn: “Oh, be quiet.”

Dawn stands and crosses the room.

She stares Nick down.

Dawn: “You’ve given us a lot to talk about.  I’ll meet with my advisors and figure this out.  Return tomorrow at midday.

She takes Nick by the arm and leads him to the door.

Dawn: “Oh, and Nicholas…”

Nick steps out into the rain.

He turns and looks at her.

Dawn: “About that kiss…”

 

Nick smirks.

Nick: “Yeah?”

 

Dawn: “In your dreams.”

Dawn slams the door in his face.

 

Cut to Anthem.  Show a wide-shot of the city.  The sun is out and the buildings gleam.  The city is built on a hill-side.  The streets are narrow and winding.

Show snow melting in the shadowed areas.

Show the sea.  It is moving easily.

Show birds returning in flocks from their migration.

Show balloons rising from the streets.  The city is alive with music and laughter.

Show children playing games in shops.

Show artisans plying their crafts.

Show dancers moving through the streets.  A parade follows in their wake.

Show a palanquin being carried by four robed men.  The exterior is drafted and the interior concealed by a ceremonial shawl.  A woman can be seen in the folds.  She wears a robe with a veil over her face.  She is sitting in a meditative pose.

Zoom in to show her face.  Her eyes are open.  She stares blankly ahead.  Her eyes are dull and empty.  She has a strange shape to her irises, which glow faintly with magic.

Show Zara and Elsea being led through the busy streets by Mary.

Zara looks around in exasperated awe.

Zara: “What is all of this? It’s loud, crowded, and I think someone just squeezed my butt!”

Zara waves her fist at someone off-screen.

Zara: “That’s right, I saw you!”

 

Mary: “Consider it a compliment, princess!  The people of Anthem are passionate by their nature, and often they know not how to check their desires! On some occasions, they throw all caution to the wind and enjoy hedonism of the highest sort.  This, it would seem, is one such occasion!”

 

Zara: “It’s chaos.”

 

Mary: “Yes, but it is chaos at its best.”

 

Elsea: “Is this a festival, Miss Mary?”

 

Mary: “What an astute handmaiden you are, good Lady Elsea.  Yes, this is a festival.  In fact, it is called the Festival of Silence.”

 

Zara: “There’s an awful lot of noise for a celebration of silence.”

 

Mary: “Yes, the name is quite misleading, isn’t it? In point of fact, the celebration is meant to remember the binding of the god Angelus, whose song, while indescribably beautiful, was so terribly loud that it could unravel existence if it were allowed to finish.  And so, the festival celebrates the silencing of a god, as it were.”

 

Zara: “Seems like a sad thing to celebrate.”

 

Mary: “Mayhap, but many celebrations have sorrow at their roots.  People celebrate specifically because the suffering has ended.”

 

Zara: “And that seems like a sad way to spend the day.”

 

Elsea: “Princess, I’m sure Miss Mary didn’t mean to upset you.”

 

Mary: “Oh, no, quite the opposite, actually.  I am here to raise your spirits, if I recall correctly.”

 

Zara: “And my spirits have been raised.  Now, may I return to the mansion? I’m afraid that if my spirits were raised anymore they would lift me up and fly away with me.”

 

Mary: “Well, if you do insist on sour I may just have to make you fly away myself.”

 

Zara and Mary stop in the street.

Zara stares at Mary.

Mary stares back.

Zara: “Elsea would never allow it.”

 

Mary: “Now, now, princess, you’re assuming she would even have time to stop me.”

 

Elsea: “Miss Mary, princess, please, do get along.”

 

Zara sighs.

Zara: “Fine, Elsea, if you insist on indulging her lunacy then I hold you directly accountable for my mood at the end of the day.”

 

Elsea: “I understand, m’lady.”

 

The three stand still in the street as people rush by them.  Music grows louder around the corner.

Zara turns and looks down the street.

Show people gathering at the end of the street and dancers sauntering by. 

Floats follow the dancers.

 

Zara: “And what’s all the commotion about now?”

 

Mary: “That would be the March of the Maiden.  According to Anthem mythic tradition, Angelus was lured down by the beautiful singing voice of an equally beautiful maiden.  While on land, a group of mages used their light to seal the god inside of the maiden, who was then forbidden to ever sing again.  Since then, the god has been passed down the line, to whatever babe has the most melodic cry.  As I understand the tradition, each year a young woman is chosen to represent the maiden and is carried through the streets like a queen on high.”

 

Zara: “And the noise?”

 

Mary: “Musicians, of course.  Anthem is famous for its works of music and art, even more so than those works of your nation, young princess.”

 

Zara: “So I had heard, though I had never had the chance to, um, enjoy them myself.  Many critics in my land are quite fond of the compositions of Anthem.”

 

Elsea: “M’lady, Miss Mary, I think it would be best if we stepped away from the street for a time.”

 

Zara: “Agreed.  This is an awful lot of fuss.”

The crowd parts.

The parade turns down the street.

First, there are riders of Anthem.  They are dressed in embroidered armor.  It gleams in the sunlight.  They wave as they pass.

Next, there are dancers.  They twist and move in perfect rows.

Third are the musicians, who march and play in harmony.

Fourth is the palanquin.  The men in robes carry it with their heads down.

A breeze lifts the curtains slightly, giving a glimpse of Aria.

Show Zara staring.

Show Aria.

They make eye contact briefly.

The parade marches on.

Zara leans toward Mary.

Zara: “I saw a girl in there.”

 

Mary: “Yes, well, I told you there would be one, didn’t I?”

 

Zara: “Yeah, but she didn’t seem happy about it.”

 

Mary: “You said yourself how sad the celebration was at heart.  Mayhap she agrees.  Or, mayhap, and this seems more reasonable, I would say, she is upset that she cannot take part in the festivities.  Though, according to national custom, she is playing the most important part, as it were.”

 

Elsea: “I would be sad to hear all of the fun and be kept away from it.”

 

Zara: “Maybe.”

She stares down the street.

Show the back of the palanquin.

Zara: “Now then, Mary, would you say I have indulged you thus far?”

 

Mary: “No, not in truth.”

 

Zara: “Could we please make our way to the port soon?”

 

Mary: “Oh, of course, princess, we can go there immediately and see the sights on the way, if it will make you happy.”

 

Zara: “Happy might be a bit ambitious.  You should settle for less irritated.”

 

Mary: “Were only the prince here.  We would settle for nothing more than to see sights.”

 

Zara: “If that were the case, then my sister would be here with me, and my temperament would be greatly improved.”

 

Mary: “Would a snack cheer you, princess?”

 

Zara looks down the street at a number of vendors providing sweets.

She smiles back at Mary.

 

Zara: “It wouldn’t hurt.”