The Unnamed Saga: Sisters and Song Script, Chapter Eight: "Uncertain Waters"

Chapter Eight: Uncertain Waters

Open to Silvara by night.  The buildings are still standing and snow litters the streets.  Green light spills into the city streets.

Show people standing out in the cold. Steam curls before their faces.  They all stare up at the sky.

Show Niva standing among the people.  She has a blanket wrapped around her body.  Green light frames her features.

Show a hand on her shoulder.

 

Umber: “Niva, let’s get back inside.  Something is wrong out here.”

 

Niva turns.

Show Niva’s back as she looks at Umber.

Show Umber with green light framing her.

Cut to Niva today. She is asleep inside of her room in the cavern.  A blanket lays halfway over her body.  She is sweating and tossing.

Niva: “Umber.”

 

Cut to the Anthem mansion stables exterior.  It is mid-morning, the sun is out and the sky is partly cloudy.  Trees blow roughly in the wind.

Show the stable.  Elsea is inside in her travel cloak.  The wind whips up her hair and her cloak.  She is closing the stable door on her horse.

Show the stable exterior.  Zara and Mary are approaching the outer gate.  Mary is struggling to keep her hair down.  Zara is running ahead of her.

Elsea locks the horse in as Zara reaches her.

 

Zara: “Elsea!”

Zara leaps onto Elsea.

They embrace.

Zara: “Oh, thank the gods you’re back! I’m not so sure I could handle another day alone with her!”

Zara glares back at Mary. Mary sulks playfully.

 

Mary: “Now, now, do be careful, else you may well break my fragile heart, little princess.”

Mary ties her unruly hair down.

She smiles at Elsea. Elsea giggles.

Mary: “Truth told, though, I was under the assumption that the princess and I had gotten on famously.  Mayhap, that was presumptuous on my part.”

 

Zara: “Quite presumptuous.”

 

Elsea: “Now, princess.”

 

Zara: “Yes, yes, be nice and so on.”

Zara turns to Elsea and takes her hands.

Zara: “So, do you have news?”

 

Elsea: “Of a sort, though it may be best to share it in privacy.”

 

Mary: “Ah, cloak-and-dagger, are we? Well, I think we should be fine out here.  I dare to assume the horses won’t be sharing our secrets any time soon.”

 

Elsea peeks around.

Elsea: “We found the wreckage.”

 

Zara: “Yes, and?”

 

Elsea: “And I’m sorry to say, but we found no survivors and no sight of Princess Dawn.”

Elsea looks at Mary.

Elsea: “Or the prince.”

Zara looks sadly at the ground.

Elsea: “But there is still hope.  We didn’t find their bodies, and we found proof of people traveling farther inland.”

 

Mary: “Mayhap there were survivors, then, but they wandered off to find a bit to eat or perhaps find a place to rest that is more accommodating than a dilapidating wreck?”

 

Elsea: “That is what we are hoping.  Sir Glenn went off to investigate.”

 

Zara: “By himself? What about the escort?”

 

Elsea: “They didn’t want to stay with him.”

 

Zara: “And you?”

 

Elsea: “I tried, princess, truly, but Sir Glenn asked that I return.”

Elsea pulls both women in.

Elsea: “He fears the situation is deteriorating more quickly than expected.  Our escort wasn’t happy to be there, and Sir Glenn thinks it may be best to go along with things and not raise too much fuss, at least until he returns.”

 

Mary nods.

She glances at the mansion.

Mary: “Yes, I imagine President Thaddeus, in all of his reflection, has come to regret this favor he made.”

Mary shrugs.

Mary: “Who’s to blame him, considering things? What, with how Fiona struts about their toys and the like. Were I a lesser woman, I may have a mind to join him in all of his wishy-washing.”

 

Zara: “Regardless of his reasons, that man is a coward.”

 

Elsea: “Be that as it may, we need his protection, princess.”

 

Zara: “Yes, I know, I know.  And I mean to stay in it, but I am not happy about it.  I loathe to smile at his face while he plots behind our backs.”

 

Mary: “Now, now, princess, the man deserves more benefit of doubt than that, does he not?  Why, we haven’t even an ounce of substantial proof, meaning things we can see and touch with our own eyes or our own hands, respectively.  Thus far, his betrayal is in inference only and little else.”

 

Zara: “I know, and I understand that it would be best if we gave him no reason to do it outright.”

 

Elsea: “Well put, m’lady.”

 

Mary: “Well, darlings, enough of our conspiring.  Why, the people of the manse may come to wrongful conclusions that we are colluding against them.  Mayhap we should retire back inside, and you two can have some tea while I brush the knots from my hair.”

 

They turn to leave.

 

Zara: “Do you think that this tea can include sweets?”

 

Cut to Lady Daphne’s estate just outside of Silvara.  Show the exterior, a well-kept mansion with ivy growing along it.  Fionan guards are posted out front.  A few walk the perimeter while two stand watch before the large double-doors.

Show soldiers walking the grounds and talking quietly to each other.

Show the rose bushes near the windows.  Maids attend to the flowers carefully.  Birds fly around the estate.

Cut to the estate interior, to the sizable library.  Large windows overlook an equally large garden.  The interior is well-furnished.  Shelves line the walls, all burdened by a variety of books.  Lady Daphne sits at the center beside a reading table that has an unlit lantern built into it.  A fireplace burns at one wall.  Veruca is at her side with a ledger held calmly in hand.  Sir Fredrick is near the books.  He is examining them while holding a bag at one side.

He stops at one book.

He pulls it out and flips through it.

Fredrick: “This is quite the collection you have, lady.”

 

Daphne: “Thank you, sir.  I believe that knowledge is the greatest weapon a person can have.”

 

Fredrick: “Knowledge as a weapon? Hmm.”

 

Daphne: “Would you care for a drink?”

 

Sir Fredrick replaces the book.

Fredrick: “Tea, if you would.”

 

Daphne: “Of course.  Veruca, please.”

 

Veruca: “Yes, m’lady.”

 

Veruca bows and laves.

Sir Fredrick continues along the bookcase.  Lady Daphne watches him.

Daphne: “Have you any idea as to where you will go next?”

 

Fredrick: “Next, I will return to the castle.  The King will be waiting anxiously for the flask and the contents within.”

 

Daphne: “Yes, I imagined so, but after that?”

 

Fredrick: “After that there is much work to do.  I will go to the mainland.”

 

Daphne: “The mainland?  And what will you be doing there?”

 

Sir Fredrick stops at a book and pulls it from the shelf.

He examines the cover and smiles.

Fredrick: “A complete collection of myths as recorded by the scholar Sagus the Wise.  Quite a rare find.  Even King Metis would envy you for having it.”

 

Daphne: “Yes, it is the star of my collection.”

 

Sir Fredrick flips through it.

Fredrick: “Of course it is, and it is quite the collection itself.  Twelve gods once ruling mankind from on high, their magic stronger and singularly theirs, until an act of narcissism, or perhaps thoughtless amusement, brought about their decisive end.”

 

Daphne: “The actions of Prometheus, the Fox.”

 

Show Sir Fredrick’s pack as it rests at his feet.

Show Sir Fredrick examining the book.  Over his shoulder, show an image of Angelus on its pages.

Sir Fredrick flips the page.  Show an image of Quetzalcoatl, the Sky.

Sir Fredrick closes the book.

He puts it away.

Fredrick: “Yes, it was through his trickery that mankind gained their freedom from the gods. Or at least a measure of it.”

 

Daphne: “A measure?”

 

Fredrick: “Some say the gods are sealed in the stars.  That is the story we pass down, isn’t it?  Yet, some still offer them worship, and others worship them in ways without intention.  If you truly take the time to consider it, do the gods not exist in our customs and cultures?  Prometheus is forgotten popularly, but his image was still there on the Silvaran flag when we took the castle, and the people of Red Wall worshipped flame until their city burned.”

Sir Fredrick picks up his pack.

He turns to Lady Daphne.

Fredrick: “And let us not forget the reason why our capitol is black.”

 

Daphne: “You are well versed on this subject.”

 

Fredrick: “As you say, lady, knowledge is a highly effective weapon when used properly.”

 

Daphne: “So, you believe the gods are still there? That they are still controlling us?”

 

Fredrick: “I am a soldier.  I believe nothing, and that is how it should remain.  A soldier who believes can be dangerous.  Take Sir Glenn, former captain of the Black Guard.  Once, he was charged with the protection of the crown.  Now, he is a traitor, no different than the prince he follows.  It is a sad thing, really, to see someone so promising fall as he has.”

 

Daphne: “It is sad indeed.”

 

Fredrick: “Still, I suppose you must respect a man like him who forges his own destiny.”

Sir Fredrick stares past her.

Show the window looking outside into the garden.  Show birds and bees hovering around the rose bushes.

Show Sir Fredrick again.  He nods.

Fredrick: “Yes, that I can respect.”

He turns back to Lady Daphne.

Fredrick: “To answer your question more directly: perhaps.  It is not unimaginable that the gods still insinuate themselves in some ways, though I fear the truth of the matter may be even more complicated.  It is through our traditions, our customs, that they continue to glean our worship.  Without exertion from their end or effort of any sort, they control us through ritual, and we perpetuate the cycle through generations without even a thought.”

 

Daphne: “I see.”

 

Fredrick: “It is hard to break chains one does not even notice, isn’t it?  But then, civilization itself is a chain, is it not?  We follow the crown in the very same way, through ritual and worship.  In a way, the King is nothing more than the next god.  I wonder, what will someday replace him?”

 

Daphne: “Sir, you speak treason!”

 

Fredrick: “I apologize, I do.  Please, do me the consideration of accepting this as nothing but conjecture, lady.”

Sir Fredrick bows.

Fredrick: “Now, I shall take my leave before I overstay.  Before I go, I assure you of one thing: I know my place, and I follow King Metis to his every word.”

 

Daphne: “But, Veruca has yet to return with your tea.”

 

Friedrich: “Yes, and while I do love fresh tea, I am afraid I must be off.  It seems I cannot predict what madness might come from my mouth.  Farewell, lady.”

 

Daphne: “Yes, farewell.”

 

Cut to black.

Open on the Resistance Base exterior.  Two guards stand out front.  It is raining.  They are staring resolutely ahead into the forest.

Show the base interior.  In the commons, bodies are lined up and covered with blankets.  Soldiers are gathered around them.  Some are crying over them.  Others are holding a vigil.  Candles burn in the corner for each body.

Show one soldier standing in the corner with tears in his eyes.

Show another soldier crying over a body and screaming.  Others are trying to console him.

Show Niva watching from the wall in shock.

Remi appears beside her and puts his hand on her shoulder.

She looks at him.

She cries into his chest.  He pats her back.

Remi: “I know, darling.  I know.”

 

Show the war room interior.  A map of the area is unrolled and pinned to a long wooden table.  Black marks are scribbled in various areas around the Silvaran and Fionan countryside.  Sir Thomas stands hunched over the table.  Diando is in the corner with his arms crossed.  He is leaning in his chair.

Dawn enters the room through the curtain.  She has blood on her hands.

She goes to a water basin and washes her hands.

She dries them and wipes her forehead with the back of her hand.

She slumps into her seat and sighs.

 

Dawn: “We couldn’t save them, any of them.”

 

Thomas: “Just like the others.”

 

Diando: “Worse.  The attacks are becoming more frequent.  No matter how we maneuver, no matter where we go, it knows.  I’m starting to think that leaving the capital wasn’t for the best.”

 

Thomas: “If we had stayed then they wouldn’t even have to round us up.”

 

Diando: “Because they’re having a hard time murdering us squad-by-squad?”

 

Thomas: “We’re still free.”

 

Diando: “They’re just bleeding us slowly!”

 

Dawn: “Enough, you two, just, enough.  I understand your frustration, Diando, but leaving was for the best. If we stayed, then it would have gotten civilians involved in this, whatever this is.”

 

Diando: “It’s a massacre.”

 

Dawn: “Exactly, and that’s why we had to leave.”

 

Diando: “Maybe, but hiding isn’t getting us anywhere, either.”

 

Thomas: “So, what, you think we should march out there in force? Engage the enemy head on?”

 

Diando: “I think we should march on the Black Castle and make it burn like Silverthrone did!”

 

Thomas: “No, there’s no way we’re going there.  All that will do is get us all killed.”

 

Diando: “I’m not talking to you, coward.  Princess?”

 

Dawn looks between them.

She sighs.

Dawn: “Diando, that’s no plan. Whatever it is that’s killing us, it’s hunting us.  I don’t think destroying the Black Castle will do much for it.”

 

Diando: “Then what do you say? What do you say to everyone out there who has lost a brother, a father, a friend?”

 

Dawn: “I point out to them that, as unfortunate as it is, we don’t know anything about this new enemy.  I point out to them that it’s not just hitting us, it’s hitting everything, hunters, lumber workers, civilians.  I point out to them that it doesn’t care what it kills, so long as it kills.”

Remi enters.

Dawn: “I understand how you feel.  Trust me, I want to go and knock Metis’ head for whatever he’s unleashed on us all, but these are my soldier, my people, and I—I should be protecting them.”

 

Diando: “And instead you’re leading them to slaughter.”

 

Dawn glares.

She throws the bloody rag across the room at him.

Dawn: “I’m saving them from your stupidity!  Right now we’re losing some, but…”

She sits back.

She wipes her eyes.

Dawn: “But we shouldn’t be fighting.  Not each other, at least.”

 

Diando: “You’re right.”

He stands, flipping his chair.

Diando: “But we should be fighting them.”

He storms out of the room.

Dawn stands, shaking. 

She screams.

She turns and leans over the basin.  Tears fall down her cheeks.

Remi offers her a rag.

She takes it.

 

Dawn: “Thanks.

 

She dries her eyes.

 

Remi: “M’lady, while I am reluctant to admit it, Diando may be right on one account.  Not even including the beast that is hunting us, our men have been routed with increasing accuracy.”

 

Dawn stares at the water.

Show her reflection in the cloudy liquid.

She sets the rag beside the basin and looks at Remi.

Dawn: “So, you’re saying?”

 

Remi: “The unthinkable, really.”

 

Dawn: “Yes?”

 

Remi: “Perhaps they have an informant?”

 

Dawn: “You really think that’s possible?

 

Remi shrugs.

Remi: “It is suspicious, that’s all.”

 

Dawn turns to Sir Thomas.

Dawn: “And what do you think?”

 

Sir Thomas looks over the map.

She sighs and slumps into his chair.

Thomas: “Well, I can’t deny the facts.  Fionan movements have been preemptive.”

 

Dawn: “But a traitor amongst us? Who would stand to gain from that?”

 

Thomas: “Any and all of them.  Sorry to say princess, but we’re losing.  Some even think we’ve lost, and the more they think that way, the less it takes to make them turn, to make them start wanting to appease their oppressors.”

 

Remi: “Better to change with the world than to try and fight it.”

 

Thomas: “Exactly.  If only they knew what they were giving up.”

 

Dawn: “Well, we have no hard proof as of now.  It’s just a theory, and one we’ll have to shelve for later.  Right now, we have graves to dig.”

 

Sir Thomas stands.

Thomas: “I’m getting too damn good at burying my friends.”

 

Remi: “Aren’t we all.”

 

Cut to black.

Open on the Anthem Mansion interior, in Zara’s room.  Zara and Elsea are having tea while Mary sits by the window and brushes her hair.  A storm has moved in and outside rain can be heard.

Mary flips her hair and sighs.

Mary: “My, how the rain does exhaust.  Mayhap a nap is in order.”

 

Zara: “And here I thought you never slept.”

 

Mary: “Dear princess, a nap is decidedly different from the act of sleep, as you should well know.  Why, you’ve been napping frequently since our arrival in this land, but I wouldn’t say you’ve slept considerably more.”

 

Zara: “I am fatigued.”

 

Mary: “You’re bored, and I for one cannot blame you for it.  The days are long and dull here, considering our safety in the not entirely welcoming arms of Anthem.  Why, what I wouldn’t give to trek alongside the good knight as he searches for the prince among the wilds of the wilderness.”

 

Zara: “It’s never too late to join him.”

 

Elsea: “Actually, princess, I doubt any of us could find him considering the time that has passed.”

Zara gives Elsea a look.

Elsea: “Sarcasm?”

 

Zara: “Yes.”

 

Elsea: “I see.  I apologize, then.”

 

Mary: “Princess, can you say in all honesty that you enjoy all of this sitting and waiting what has occupied us as of late.”

 

Zara: “The sitting, yes.  The waiting, not as much.”

 

Mary sighs wistfully.

Mary: “Mayhap I am just nostalgic for the days of old, what when we traveled as a group.  Our tribulations.  Our triumphs.  And all of our lovely banter.”

 

Zara: “You mean when we were hunted like animals?”

 

Mary: “Oh, dear, we’re still hunted like animals, the only difference between then and now is that we are in a cage.  Why, if we were ever caught, I fear we wouldn’t even know how to properly escape.”

 

Zara: “You’re mad.”

 

Mary: “Most-like.  Still, I cannot help but feel as if the story has escaped us somehow.  Why, once we were center stage.”

 

Elsea: “All things considered, Miss Mary, I do think things will become more hectic upon Sir Glenn’s return, whatever he may find.”

 

Mary: “I sincerely do hope so.”

She looks out the window.  Show her face as if she is looking out at the audience.

Mary: “I’ve done quite enough waiting in my lifetime, and I am ready once again to take up the lead.”

 

Zara sips her tea.

She scoffs.

Zara: “Please, as soon as Zelos is back he’ll find a way to steal it from you, probably by doing something foolishly heroic and dragging us into the whole mess.  It’s what he always does.”

 

Mary smiles.

Mary: “It is, isn’t it?  And it will be nice to see him, don’t you think?”

 

Beat.

Zara looks up at Mary’s expectant eyes.

Zara: “What? You aren’t expecting me to agree with you, are you?  If so, then you have a long wait ahead of you.”