Re-Education

By: Sylvance Posted on: August 31, 2012

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- RE-EDUCATION -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- (a play by Sylvance deFleur) -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A NOTE, TO READER AND AUDIENCE:

Re-Education is a sequel to 'Education', a previous Bardic Runner-Up written by Sylvance deFleur, yet it can be enjoyed as a free-standing piece. Those who wish to fully enjoy these plays may wish to Education before the current piece.

This piece is dedicated to all those who have taken the difficult step of re-awakening and reintegration after long slumber.

-_-_-_-_-_-_- PERSONAE DRAMATIS -_-_-_-_-_-_-

The Academie of Fine Arts:

SEELYA

A siren, awakening from centuries-long slumber

YEMI

A horkval, Defender of the Arts, and head of the Bladesingers Path

Old Friends:

GORMAN

A dwarf, master crafter, and Order Head of Lord Phaestus

GIANNA

A tsol'aa, the Minister of Cultural Affairs of Eleusis

ZHADE

A human, fallen from grace, now guildless and citiless

EAMONN

A satyr, the Caliph of Shallam

Personae Non Gratis:

FINGERS

A mhun, a charming and infamous thief

NUNE

A mischievous xoran twin, and known prankster

DORN

A mischievous xoran twin, and known prankster

Extra:

CITIZEN ONE

A Cyrenian townsperson

CITIZEN TWO

A Cyrenian townsperson

CITIZEN THREE

A Cyrenian townsperson

TOWNCRIER

The news-caller of Cyrene

TROUBADOUR

A bard-cum-guardsman of the Cyrene City Guard

GUARD ONE

A member of the Royal Shallamese Guard

GUARD TWO

A member of the Royal Shallamese Guard

-_-_-_-_-_-_- PROLOGUE -_-_-_-_-_-_-

TOWNCRIER:

Love, Envy and Ambition scarce agree,

And when so little as in youth's flushed haze?

Once, friends in Art fell foul of these grand three

And reap the fruit of folly in present days.

Seelya, who sought to tame Zhade's flair-ful heart,

Was blind to Eamonn's love, thus unrequited.

Slowly, the boys' friendship was torn apart,

And each sought redress when the other slighted.

A climax: Eamonn weaved a foul deceit

And Zhade was ousted from the Bardic Guild.

Seelya, heart crushed turned, torn, to fitful sleep

And thus the curtain closed. Thus fates were sealed.

Good audience, behold! a new sensation;

Re-visited redress: Re-Education!

-_-_-_-_-_-_- ACT I -_-_-_-_-_-_-

ACT I, SCENE 1

A PLUSH, PINK BEDROOM, YET CLEARLY IN A STATE OF DISUSE AND SLIGHT DISREPAIR. A HAZE OF DUST FILLS THE AIR, ILLUMINATED BY A FINGER OF LIGHT THAT PROTRUDES FROM 'TWIXT PINK COW-PRINT CURTAINS. CENTRAL, A FOUR-POSTER BED SWATHED IN ONCE-ALLURING SILKS.

THE DOOR TO THE EAST SLAMS LOUDLY SHUT, THOUGH THE PERSON CLOSING IT IS NOT VISIBLE TO THE AUDIENCE.

SEELYA:

(SLEEPILY, UNSEEN FROM WITHIN THE BED)

How long since weeping eyes have viewed this place...?

Yet at which moment do I cry it true?

For snow or rain might fall at any moment

Or ghosts of decades past return to haunt.

(APPREHENSIVELY)

Yet... somehow solid, somehow real this seems.

Wherefore have I been cast out from my dreams,

(PANICKED)

My Lady, Valnurana? Take me back!

Please swallow down what You have vomited

And hide me from the wicked things I fled!

I beg You, drag me down again and-

SEELYA SIGHS, THEN TAKES A LONG MOMENT TO CALM HER HARRIED BREATHS. SLOWLY, SHE EMERGES NAKED FROM THE BED, STANDING TALL.

SEELYA:

(RESOLVED)

The same fool weakness that once marked a lass

Of siren blood as 'Victim' must be lanced.

If this the tune You've chosen, Ma'am, I'll dance.

Who can forever hide? My sleep has past.

EXIT SEELYA

CURTAIN

ACT I, SCENE 2

CYRENE'S CENTRAL CROSSING AT DAY. THE SOUND OF TOWNSFOLK GOING ABOUT THEIR BUSINESS PERVADES THE SCENE. THE SET IS DOMINATED BY THE CYRENIAN CLOCK TOWER AT CENTRE STAGE, AND A STONE BENCH AND STONE PEDESTAL ARE ALSO VISIBLE.

TOWNCRIER STANDS BY THE PEDESTAL, RINGING OUT THE NEWS, AS CITIZEN ONE AND CITIZEN TWO SIT ON THE STONE BENCH IN QUIET CONVERSATION. CITIZEN THREE MILLS HITHER AND YON ON HIS BUSINESS.

TOWNCRIER: Hear ye! Hear ye! Just five months until the Y600 celebrations begin! Stock up on salves and such at Cyrenian Sundries; do us proud as we Capture the Flag! The Ministry of Cultural Affairs is seeking Aides! Please remember to keep an eye out for Insanity, that most insiduous of foes! Oh, and stay safe on the Highway because Fingers is about. Hear ye! Hear ye!

ENTER NUNE

NUNE:Murder! Murder! Oh, by the Garden, it's murder. But murder never tasted this sweet. Guard your gullets! Murder in macaroons; death by pastry!

CITIZEN ONE: What is this? An assault of some kind?

CITIZEN TWO: A raid? Has Mhaldor come?

NUNE: Please, somebody help him or he is dead.

CITIZEN THREE: Call an adventurer! Somebody help!

ENTER TROUBADOUR

TROUBADOUR: What are you all shouting about? What murder?

NUNE: My brother has fallen ill. He took one bite of it and then blood began to pour from his nose.

TROUBADOUR: One bite of what? Speak plain, man.

NUNE: We don't know. One minute he was eating a bag of sweets, the next he was bleeding.

CITIZEN ONE, CITIZEN TWO AND CITIZEN THREE ALL BEGIN TO MOAN AND WAIL AT ONCE.

TROUBADOUR: Will you folks calm down? Right, where is your br-

ENTER DORN, TRACES OF BLOOD UPON HIS FACE

TROUBADOUR DIAGNOSES DORN, THEN WITH A POWERFUL FANFARE, BEGINS A RESOUNDING HALLELUJAH.

DORN: A thousand thanks, and a thousand more, my saviour in song. I am cured, but I'm a Babelite's bitch if that wasn't close.

TROUBADOUR: Mind your language; this isn't Ashtan and there will be no swears, no practical joking. Aye, I know who you two are. Now somebody explain what is going on, or there will be arrests for disorder.

DORN HOLDS UP HIS HANDS PLACATINGLY, THEN HANDS A COOKIE TO CONSTABLE.

DORN: Here is the offender, good man of the law. I bit into this, next thing I knew I was peering into the Mother's Halls.

TROUBADOUR PEERS UNSCRUPULOUSLY AT THE COOKIE, THEN AT THE XORANI TWINS. HE TAKES AN EXPERIMENTAL BITE OF THE COOKIE. BLOOD BEGINS TO DRIP SLOWLY FROM TROUBADOUR'S NOSE. TROUBADOUR TAKES A SIP FROM A SIMPLE OAKEN VIAL, AND WINCES AS THE VOYRIA IS BURNED FROM HIS SYSTEM.

TROUBADOUR: Voyria... Somebody poisoned this cookie. (to TOWNCRIER) Get the word out.

ENTER SEELYA, BRANDISHING A RAPIER.

TOWNCRIER: (SHRUGS) Hear ye, hear ye! Take a care, for there are suspicious snacks abroad! This very day an attempt has been made on a visitor's life, by the heinous medium of criminal culinarity! A guest near falls foul to a killer cookie... (ASIDE) Hmm, that sounded pretty good, actually. (ALOUD) Hear ye, hear ye! A Cookie Killer is abroad!

EXIT TOWNCRIER, STILL RINGING THE NEWS

TROUBADOUR: This must be reported to the Senate. Go with song.

EXIT TROUBADOUR

SEELYA: What is this murmuring and unease, I wonder? (FROWNS) And still they refuse to respond. Seems my sins are not forgotten... Ah well, by dreams and sleep, poverty is my most pressing concern, alongside my groaning belly. Here goes.

SEELYA'S EYES ARE DRAWN TO A BABY RAT THAT DARTS SUDDENLY INTO VIEW. SHE FROWNS, THEN YELPS AS THE RAPIER FALLS FROM HER FUMBLING HANDS.

NUNE AND DORN NOTICE SEELYA AND EXCHANGE A GLANCE.

NUNE: A damsel in distress, methinks.

DORN: Uh oh, my scales are twitching. That can only mean one thing...

NUNE: Mischief ahoy! Let's prank her; she looks prankable.

DORN: Positively prankable. (LOUD) Hey, look, Nune! It's a woman in need of goldenseal! No, wait; stand down. It's a siren.

NUNE: And sadly lacking in the Hourglass department.

SEELYA BLUSHES FURIOUSLY.

SEELYA: Well, yes, I may have put on a few pounds, but there is no need to be rude.

NUNE: And doesn't know how to hold a blade.

SEELYA: I'll have you know I am an Expert Swashbuckler!

NUNE: Looked like it.

SEELYA: I- well, that is, my DoubleJab does not seem to be working.

NUNE RAISES AN EYEBROW.

DORN: Ignore my bro. He's rude and ill-raised. Some swear he's a bastard. Hang on, we're twins...

SEELYA: Yes, rude he is. Said I was fat.

DORN: Heh, not that rude. He meant you don't have an Hourglass. Which explains why you're trying to DoubleJab.

SEELYA: One needs an hourglass to DoubleJab? What?

DORN: No, no, no. Shh. Listen. You're old.

NUNE: Yep! Two-hundred-and-

DORN CUFFS NUNE UPSIDE THE HEAD.

DORN: So old that you clearly don't know that the DoubleJab no longer exists. Try Tunesmithing it instead.

SEELYA: What? By dreams and sleep, what is Tunesmithing?

DORN: Err... Might be easier to ask another Bard?

SEELYA: Yes, well... my Guild seems to be ignoring me. They aren't responding to my pleas.

DORN ROLLS ON THE FLOOR, LAUGHING.

NUNE ATTEMPTS TO STIFLE HIS AMUSEMENT BUT CANNOT HELP LAUGHING ALOUD.

NUNE: Her Guild-

DORN: -isn't answering her!

NUNE: Try messaging the Logos; perhaps you'll have more luck with Him!

DORN SWINGS HIS ARM UP AND HIGH-FIVES NUNE ENTHUSIASTICALLY.

SEELYA: What's so funny?

NUNE: You've... been asleep awhile, eh?

SEELYA: Aye, decades. What year is it?

NUNE: 599 AF, or what's left of it.

SEELYA: What!?

DORN: 599 AF; touch your Mindseye, eh? No more Guilds; you're in a House now.

SEELYA: A House?

DORN: Yup. What class?

SEELYA: Bard.

NUNE: You're likely in Ty Beirdd.

NUNE POKES SEELYA.

SEELYA: Ooowwwww!

NUNE: And not Specialised either, let alone a Guardian.

DORN: Likely Traitless too.

NUNE: And no instrument or armour.

DORN: I won't lie to you, lass. You've got a lot to learn. But lucky for you, you've met two great guys. Come with us; we'll get you kitted out.

SEELYA: You- I- really?

DORN: Yep, and we won't even prank you like we were gonna. This way, this way.

EXIT DORN

SEELYA: Wait, what did he mean about pranking?

NUNE: We're pranksters. We do funny things to people. Usually involving panties, but we like to mix it up a little.

SEELYA: Yes, well thanks for the offer, but I think I'll-

NUNE: You know what the worst thing about being a prankster is?

SEELYA: No. What?

NUNE: People expect that you're incapable of acts of kindness. You offer to help somebody, and they assume it's a prank.

SEELYA: No, I-

NUNE: You see somebody clueless and alone and offer to help, and they'd rather be alone and clueless.

SEELYA: No, look, I just-

NUNE: They think that all a prankster does is prank. Twenty-five days a month.

SEELYA: Please, by dreams and sleep, just li-

NUNE: Rain or shine.

SEELYA: I'm sorry. Yes. I need help. Please help me.

NUNE: There you go. Lemon-squeezy. Now where were we? Ah yes: This way, this way.

SEELYA BEGINS TO FOLLOW NUNE.

EXEUNT

CURTAIN

ACT I, SCENE 3

A TIDY AND EFFICIENT OFFICE, HOUSING FIVE ELEGANT DESKS, WITH COMFORTABLE ARMCHAIRS PLACED AT EACH. THE OFFICE SEEMS VERY INFORMAL BUT IS CLEARLY A WORKSPACE. A RUG LAID AT CENTRE STAGE BEARS THE HOUSE SEAL OF TY BEIRDD.

YEMI SITS AT A DESK WRITING IN AN ORNATE MANUSCRIPT.

YEMI: Finally, my treatise is complete, from the three-limb break to the five-step FuneralMass! Not a moment too soon either, we can now bolster up the CCG during the celebrations; none shall say that all Ty Beirdd contributed was the closing Chorale!

A COUPLE SHARP RAPS EMANATE FROM THE DOOR TO THE OUT.

YEMI: (aside) Who's this? Assassins and Bardlets are too rude to knock. (ALOUD) Come, come!

ENTER SEELYA

SEELYA CURTSEYS RESPECTFULLY BEFORE YEMI.

SEELYA: Hail, Defender of the Arts; do you have a spare moment, please?

YEMI: Of course; what can I do for you?

SEELYA: Well, in a nutshell, I was hoping to auditon to become a Bladesi-

YEMI: (shouts) Seelya? By Song!, Seelya?

SEELYA: Yes, indeed, si- (shouts) Yemi?

YEMI: Where have you been?

SEELYA: I... went to sleep. So much has changed!

YEMI: Much and more, but it's great to see you back with us! We've been so worried about you.

SEELYA: Truly? Not... not angry?

YEMI: Angry? By the Garden, no!

SEELYA: But... it was all my fault.

YEMI: Never say that again! The entire blame for what happened rests upon Eamonn's shoulders. Aye, Eamonn, that holier-than-thou, patronising thrice-damned whorespawn!

SEELYA: We don't know that he-

YEMI: I know. And this is not up for discussion. Even now that fell satyr sits in his ivory tower, shunning the light of day whilst he has the foozling cheek to decide which denizens are Innocent and under the Church's protection. Imagine it: Eamonn Goodchild, the most slippery, treacherous creature ever to stumble forth from Flame, having the gall to judge Innocence!

SEELYA: Yemi, I mean, sir, please, calm down. What... what about Zhade?

YEMI: Outguilded, back when there was Guilds. He fled Cyrene before his trial, leaving the City just one step ahead of the Guard, then slew every Champion that was sent to bring him to justice. He was judged guilty in absentia, and with a Gleam conviction hanging over his head, his days in good company were numbered. Some say he's moved to Ashtan, some to Mhaldor. Some (PAUSE) say he chose to shrug off the mortal coil.

SEELYA GIVES A HORRIFIED GASP.

YEMI: Just rumours. We've seen neither hide nor hair of him in centuries, truth be told.

AN UNEASY SILENCE FALLS BETWIXT THEM.

SEELYA: Gormon?

YEMI: Oh! Alive and well! Gorman is the Order Head for Lord Phaestus, though he's in the Runewardens now. A master craftsman, that one, and some reckon he'll make Senator before long. And Gianna left Cyrene altogether shortly after you went to sleep, though she's now the Eleusian Minister of Cultural Affairs, so she's also doing well for herself.

SEELYA: So much change.

YEMI: Aye. But stick with it, Seelya. Before long you'll find yourself again.

SEELYA: Yes. Well, Nune and Dorn are being very helpful; they outfitted me and showed me around the City and-

YEMI: Nune and Dorn? Those lizard Serpent twins?

SEELYA: Yes, aren't they just the sweetest little-

YEMI SIGHS DEEPLY

YEMI: Seelya, take a serious care around those two. In fact, it might be best if you stayed away from them altogether.

SEELYA: Why ever would I do that? They are my friends.

YEMI: Really, Seelya? Are you really still so trusting after all that happened? They're Miscuri, for crying out loud!

SEELYA: Misc-what?

YEMI: Pranksters. Followers of Pandora. They really upset Martina some years back; they ended up being enemied.

SEELYA: Followers of Who?

YEMI: Pranksters. Followers of Pandora, Mischief Makers. And not just for Martina either, they almost put Jorj into an early grave with their antics, and harrassed Raphella so badly she quit the theatre. All three of them were nervous wrecks by the time they gave evidence at the twins' trial.

SEELYA: Wait, slow down, sir. Followers of Whom?

YEMI: Pandora, Seelya. The Goddess of Mischief.

SEELYA: There is a Goddess of Mischief?

YEMI: (impatiently) Yes, and those twins are part of Her Order. I'm surprised they've been unenemied to Cyrene. So, you want to be a Bladesinger?

SEELYA: Yes.

YEMI: Why?

SEELYA: (PAUSE) Because I won't be a victim any more.

YEMI: Then forget the audition. What you need is knowledge. Go out and gain a few levels. Find out Who is in the Garden these days, and which Cities are at war. Come back and tell me the difference between an Acciaccatura and an Accentato, and why kuzu is the bane of the Forestrals. Find out why the youngest Priest in the House is over thirty years old, but the youngest Bard is eighteen. Heck, whilst you're at it, find out why Blademasters all have a name for their little friends, and scarce take their hand off of him.

SEELYA: Yemi!

YEMI: You've more to learn than how to swing a blade right now.

SEELYA: The House scrolls clearly state that in order to become a Bladesinger I need only-

YEMI: I wrote the scroll. I know what it says, and that doesn't change my answer.

SEELYA: How dare you speak to me like that! You were barely a pupa when I last saw you.

YEMI: And now I am the Defender of the Arts. And my duties includes defending Housemates from themselves. This conversation is over, Seelya.

SEELYA: As it pleases you, sir.

SEELYA TURNS TO LEAVE.

YEMI: And, Seelya.

SEELYA: Yes?

YEMI: It really is great to see you back. Welcome home.

EXIT SEELYA

CURTAIN

Act I, Scene 4

WITHIN A LARGE AND GLOOMY WELLWAY, WITH ROUGH-HEWN STEPS SPIRALING AROUND THE WALL. THE STEPS ARE SMALL, SCARCE WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO TO CROSS UPON THEM, AND AIR WHIPS THREATENINGLY THROUGH THE VERTICAL SHAFT. LIGHT BEAMS DOWN FROM ABOVE.

SEELYA STANDS AT THE MIDPOINT, APPARENTLY PAUSING FOR BREATH.

SEELYA: Enshrined to Stellar in five months, and you to thank for it, my beauty! (KISSING A FIRE PENDANT) And a bulging purse, courtesy of Simmons at the lighthouse. Time to call it a month, I think.

ENTER FINGERS, FROM THE UP

SEELYA TURNS TO LEAVE, AND JUMPS AT THE UNEXPECTED SIGHT OF THE MHUN BEHIND HER.

SEELYA: Excuse me, good neighbour; I didn't notice your entrance.

FINGERS: (WINKS) Oh, you're not the first woman to say such to me.

SEELYA: Are you being rude?

FINGERS REMOVES HIS TOP HAT AND BOWS FLORIDLY BEFORE SEELYA.

FINGERS: Now there's two types o' folks in the world: them as love Ol' Fingers, an' them as tell lies. And none amongst them would say I'm rude.

SEELYA: (LAUGHS) Oh, and what words do they throw at Ol' Fingers, then?

FINGERS: So many I can scarce count them on my... you know where that one's going. But I'm off topic; what's brought a Bardic beauty into a stinky place like this? Shouldn't you be surrounded by clay and inks, and frilly drinks rather than... dungeon? This here's a dangerous place for a Bard, ya know, and doubly so for a squishy siren.

SEELYA: A siren Guardian, actually. We are not merely eye-candy any more, I'll have you know. Things have moved on; sounds like you're stuck in the past, Mister Mhun.

FINGERS: Truth! Truth! Ol' Fingers prefers ta dwell in the past, but that's a story for different times. Sorry, could ya hold this just a sec?

FINGERS HANDS HIS TOP HAT TO SEELYA.

FINGERS: Ta, lass. But as I was saying, strange how folks like to dwell so much on things gone away, eh? And equally, strange how time passes just like that!

FINGERS SNAPS HIS FINGERS BEFORE SEELYA'S EYES. INSTANTLY, SEELYA REMOVES A PLAIN JOURNAL FROM A SAILOR'S KITBAG AND PUTS IT INSIDE THE TOP HAT, SEEMINGLY WITHOUT EVEN REALISING SHE HAS DONE SO.

SEELYA: You read my mind! But change and progress are oft times bed fellows.

FINGERS: Our first meeting and quite by chance, and already we are speaking of beds? Seems less has changed about sirens than you'd lead Ol' Fingers to believe.

SEELYA: Aye, and of course you could count the number of young women you've engaged in such conversations on your...

FINGERS: That's right! But as fun as tongue-fencing is with such a feisty femme, you're right about one thing, lass: The past is a wonderful place, but the future far moreso. The things we wish, the things we want, the things on which we wait... all such things lie ahead. And thus I shan't stop you from moving forwards any longer! Go with song, Miss Seelya.

SEELYA: Go with song!

SEELYA AND FINGERS EACH MOVE TO GO ABOUT THEIR WAY, SEELYA TO THE UP, FINGERS TO THE DOWN. THEY STOP AND GIGGLE AS THEY NEGOTIATE A WAY TO PASS ONE ANOTHER.

SEELYA: Oh, wait a moment; I still have your hat!

SEELYA GIVES THE TOP HAT TO FINGERS.

FINGERS: Such honesty. I hope it isn't contagious!

EXIT SEELYA

FINGERS' EYES TWINKLE ENCHANTINGLY AS HE REPLACES THE TOP HAT UPON HIS HEAD.

FINGERS: And thus it begins... Soon... I'll 'ave 'im.

CURTAIN

Act I, Scene 5

A POST OFFICE. A PLETHORA OF BLUE-GREY FEATHERS ARE STREWN ACROSS THE TILED FLOOR. AT THE FAR WALL, AN INTRICATELY ORGANISED ARRAY OF SHELVES HOLDS ALL MANNER OF LETTERS, PARCELS AND PACKETS, AND LARGE BIRDS ARE VISIBLE WITHIN A PARADE OF WIRE CAGES. A COUNTER OF WHITE MARBLE RUNS THE FULL LENGTH OF THE ROOM, WITH STOOLS IN PLENTY FOR ANY WHO WISH TO SIT AND WRITE.

SEELYA STANDS AT CENTRE STAGE, WITH CITIZEN TWO AND CITIZEN THREE AT THE COUNTER IN COMPOSITION.

SEELYA: And posted! Now for my audition, I think! But first a quick glance over my notes.

SEELYA RUMMAGES IN A SAILOR'S KITBAG.

SEELYA: My... my journal...

COMPREHENSION FLASHES ACROSS SEELYA'S FACE.

SEELYA: Fingers... We'll see about that! Okay, breathe, girl. Just send him a nice, polite tell; perhaps there's a reasonable explanation. (CLEARS THROAT) Fingers, give me back my journal, you thieving git!

SEELYA COCKS HER HEAD, HEARING SOMETHING.

SEELYA: No, I don't need to say 'please'; you don't even have the decency to be ashamed and deny it! Perhaps I shall say 'Ivory Mark' instead!

SEELYA COCKS HER HEAD, HEARING SOMETHING.

SEELYA: You wouldn't dare! Mushroom it and I'll-

SEELYA COCKS HER HEAD, HEARING SOMETHING.

SEELYA: Okay, okay! How much?

SEELYA COCKS HER HEAD, HEARING SOMETHING.

SEELYA: (ASIDE) Hah! Is he bloody insane? That's three full clears of the Orc encampment, IF nobody has killed Adalgar! But you're not the only person who can outwit... (ALOUD) Tell you what, mail it to me now and I'll send you a hundred-thousand in seven days. No, six; at the turn of the new century. (ASIDE) Hmm, best not look too keen; I'll haggle. (ALOUD) And you can never rob me again!

SEELYA COCKS HER HEAD, HEARING SOMETHING.

SEELYA: Aha! Hook, line and sinker!

ENTER YEMI

YEMI: Ah, Seelya! An excellent letter; seems you've done a great deal of learning since we last spoke.

SEELYA: More than you'd imagine, sir.

A BLUE-GREY MOUNTAIN SWIFT SWOOPS INTO THE POST-OFFICE, BRISKLY RELINQUISHES A LETTER INTO SEELYA'S OUTSTRETCHED HANDS, AND FLIES STRAIGHT INTO AN OPEN CAGE.

SEELYA: Such as outwitting foolish thieves.

SEELYA TAKES A PLAIN JOURNAL FROM A WHITE LETTER.

YEMI: Eh?

SEELYA: Ever heard of a mhun named Fingers?

YEMI: Err... yes. The most notorious thief in all Sapience these days, though nobody had even heard of him until a few months ago. Why do you ask?

SEELYA: He stole my journal in Azdun, but I tricked him into giving it back.

YEMI BLINKS.

YEMI: Tricked him how, Seelya?

SEELYA: I told him if he mailed it to me I'd give him one-hundred-kay by the new year.

YEMI: You did what?

SEELYA: Clever, eh? Greed beats sense any day.

YEMI: Of course, the law changed after you fell asleep.

YEMI CRINGES AND DROPS HIS FACE INTO HIS PALMS WITH A SHAKE OF HIS HEAD.

SEELYA: What law?

YEMI: The Garden has banned Scams, Seelya. If you say you'll do something in return for gold, you're bound by Divine law to do it.

SEELYA: Oh... And the penalty?

YEMI: A free fitting for a new set of leaves. He's given you the journal, so if you don't pay up you'll be shrubbed.

SEELYA: I... guess I'll get ratting...

EXIT SEELYA

YEMI: Alas! for, with the best intention

Did I cause harm beyond all mention?

CURTAIN

END OF ACT I

-_-_-_-_-_-_- ACT II -_-_-_-_-_-_-

ACT II, Scene 1

AN OFFICE WITH ROUGH WOODEN WALLS, SEEMINGLY HOLLOWED OUT FROM WITHIN A TREE. A LARGE WINDOW SHOWS, IN VISTA, ELEUSIS IN THE EVENING. SAWDUST IS STREWN LIBERALLY ON THE FLOOR. A LARGE DESK CENTRE STAGE, NEAR GROANING BENEATH A WEALTH OF TOMES.

GIANNA SITS BEHIND THE DESK.

ENTER SEELYA

GIANNA PUTS ASIDE THE SCROLL SHE IS READING AND SIGHS DEEPLY.

GIANNA: (ASIDE) Ugh, provincial Achaean, thou art my nemesis! (ALOUD) Yes, prithee just leave it on yon pile.

SEELYA: Now that's simply no way to greet an old friend.

GIANNA: (RISING, WALKING AROUND THE DESK) Seelya? Have mine eyes turned mountebank, or has sanity finally fled?

SEELYA RUNS UP TO GIANNA AND ENVELOPES HER IN A MASSIVE BEARHUG

SEELYA: It's me, it's really me. Damn, but the years have treated you well, Gianna; you're all grown up.

GIANNA: And thou lookst as if life is being kind to thee forsooth, my friend. I trust thou art appraised on what's what and who's where?

SEELYA: Indeed. So sad to hear about Zhade.

GIANNA: Enow, enow. The past is behind us, and thou didst not come to mine office rather than my house in order to bemoan the things of yesteryear.

SEELYA: In truth. You see, I got Fingered.

GIANNA: Excuse me?

SEELYA: Nevermind, long story. I was hoping to show you a scroll.

SEELYA HANDS A SCROLL TO GIANNA, WHO UNFURLS IT AND BEGINS READING

GIANNA: Wow. Coverage of the founding of Eleusis, impartially written, excellently researched and, blessedly! writ in Achaean, pure and sweet! Whither didst thou find this, child? And how hath mine eyes ne'er held sight of this text?

SEELYA: Because I wrote it. And it is just a draft. Actually, Gianna, I am in trouble, and I was hoping that Eleusis might commission an extensive historie.

GIANNA: If this be a mere taster, then without further ado I vouchsafe thy commission. How does one-hundred-thousand sovereigns sound.

SEELYA: Amazing!

GIANNA: We will give thee ten percent up front. No, twenty.

SEELYA: Ah. Well, certainly a great start.

GIANNA GIVES SEELYA 20000 GOLDEN SOVEREIGNS. GIANNA RUBS HER HANDS TOGETHER GREEDILY.

SEELYA: Wow, you really have grown big and strong.

GIANNA: No need to tease.

SEELYA: I'm not teasing; you've learned up to Selfishness!

GIANNA: (LAUGHS) No, down to't. The Garden deemed't necessary that all young Achaeans could reach the skill; thou canst do it thyself in all likelihood.

COMPREHENSION FLASHES ACROSS SEELYA'S FACE. SEELYA RUBS HER HANDS TOGETHER GREEDILY.

SEELYA: I... knew Selfishness all along? Gods rot it!

GIANNA: Seelya! Come, calm thy heart. Is screaming and swearing going to improve thy predicament?

SEELYA: No. But it felt good.

GIANNA: Enow, child. How is the Academie these days?

SEELYA: Smaller. Yemi's on the Bardic Council but I hardly know anybody else, other than two new friends I've made, but I'll say no more on that.

GIANNA: And why not?

SEELYA: They're Miscuri.

GIANNA: And?

SEELYA: Well, everyone seems to think that that means they can't be trusted.

GIANNA: Pfft. A man's allegiance says little about his character, and the Miscuri ought be hight the Misunderstood, methinks. E'en they neglected to ensure that thou wert abroad with Selfishness active. Still, trust those who treat thee well, Seelya, and mistrust those who do not. Do not let the wounds of thy past be the scars upon thy present. We must move forth, all of us.

SEELYA: This has nothing to do with my past.

GIANNA: The anger in thy every feature and stance? That is new anger, is't? The fact that we have not spoken until now, that has nothing to do with the pains of yesteryear?

SEELYA: (SIGHS) Sage counsel as ever, my friend; you're right. I'm just still trying to make sense of it all. But I'd best be gone; I've much to do. By dreams and sleep, we should definitely catch up properly once things have calmed down for me.

GIANNA: Hath plans for the New Year celebrations?

SEELYA: Oh, no. It looks like it's going to be a lot of excitement and such but... maybe you could come to Cyrene and we'll do something?

GIANNA: Nay; I'll venture not into the City of So-Called Respect. But we've agreed not to discuss the bad old days. Come to mine estate for the celebrations; 'twill be a meet time for me to show it to thee.

SEELYA: That would be wonderful - thank you, Gianna.

GIANNA: Certes. Let we old girls look to new years

To put to bed at last your pre-sleep tears.

For in four days Y600 hundred falls, e'en

A climax of the grand and unforseen.

CURTAIN

ACT II, Scene 2

CYRENE'S CENTRAL CROSSING AT DAY. THE SOUND OF TOWNSFOLK GOING ABOUT THEIR BUSINESS PERVADES THE SCENE. THE SET IS DOMINATED BY THE CYRENIAN CLOCK TOWER AT CENTRE STAGE, AND A STONE BENCH AND STONE PEDESTAL ARE ALSO VISIBLE.

TOWNCRIER STANDS BY THE PEDESTAL, RINGING THE NEWS. NUNE AND DORN STAND SIDE BY SIDE ON THE STONE BENCH.

TOWNCRIER: Hear ye! Hear ye! I say once, twice and again that the voyria scare is done! There is no sign of the Cookie Killer; no doubt he has moved on to plague another City. Please go back to stuffing your faces with sweets and treats to your heart's content, or Melinda will soon be out of business! Also mind all ye with contracts upon ye take a care, for it is whispered that the Blade Unsung is accepting hirings once more! None have crossed steel with this one and lived to tell of it; I say again, if you have a contract upon your head do not leave Cyrene! Hear ye, hear ye!

EXIT TOWNCRIER

NUNE: Hah, that'll learn her, brother.

DORN: Who?

NUNE: Melinda.

DORN: Melinda has a brother?

NUNE: No, that'll learn her, (PAUSE) brother.

DORN: Then whose brother?

NUNE: Oh, shut up. But seriously, I can't believe it worked so well.

DORN: Well, that's Cyrene for you. Give them a reason to panic and they panic. A wee bit of voyria and they're all ducking for cover at the sight of cookies. (MOCKINGLY) Save me, save me!

NUNE: No, not that, I can't believe Seelya didn't got robbed by Fingers. He said it'd work; I wasn't so sure.

DORN: Ah, the siren. Not going soft on me are you, brother mine? He said he needed her robbed, so she got robbed. Strolled into it, that one. Plus, it's not our fault; we only told him where she'd be hunting.

NUNE: Yep. Pranked, perfectly.

DORN: Perfectly prankable!

NUNE: And without panties!

DORN HIGHFIVES NUNE ENTHUSIASTICALLY. THE TWINS BOUNCE UP AND DOWN EXCITEDLY, THEN ROMP AROUND ONE ANOTHER.

DORN: Just one more phase and our debt is paid.

NUNE: And our service to Her is fulfilled.

DORN: Just two letters, and it is paid!

NUNE: To the post office!

EXEUNT

CURTAIN

ACT II, Scene 3

WITHIN AN EXQUISITE FORGE, DOMINATED BY THE LARGE GRANITE FORGE PROPER AND IRON ANVIL AT CENTRE STAGE. A MASSIVE HOODED CHIMNEY LOOMS OVER THE FORGE, WHICH IS FULLY ABLAZE. TWO RACKS OF GLEAMING WEAPONS FRAME THE SET, RESPECTIVELY AT STAGE RIGHT AND STAGE LEFT.

GORMON STANDS AT THE ANVIL, SWEAT FLYING RHYTHMICALLY FROM HIS BROW AS HE METHODICALLY RAISES AND LOWERS THE FORGING HAMMER.

SEELYA: Hello, Gormon. You are looking very well.

GORMON: (STILL FORGING) Seelya... so the rumours are true. Come 'ere, lass, lemme see ya. Then ya can tell me 'ow me old friend awakens after two-'undred years an' I'm lef' ta hear about't on tha grapevine.

SEELYA: Well, I've been waiting to catch you away from the forge, but it seems you are in here night and day. Here, let me help you.

SEELYA ENTERS INTO THE REALMS OF THE DIVINE AS SHE PLAYS THE OPENING STRAINS OF A SACRED CANTICLE.

GORMON: Oh, that's blessed fer sure. Still puttin' others firs', e'en when yer in trouble up ta tha neck.

SEELYA: You know about it?

GORMON: About y'an' Fingers? Aye, fer sure, fer sure. Ain't much slips past these big ears.

SEELYA: You must think I'm stupid.

GORMON: Stupid not ta've 'ad Selfishness up, or stupid ta not 'ave come ta see me tha moment ya realised ya'd been robbed? Well, actually neither. As I said, I'm delighted that tha firs' thing ya do when ya walk inta tha forge is think about 'ow ya could 'elp an' old friend. In short, jus' like I'm short, I'm thrilled that ya'ven't changed none.

SEELYA: I have changed, Gormon. I'm stronger than I once was. I don't need others to tell me who I am and what I'm worth, and I'm not a victim any more. I've left the old me behind. And so have you; when did you become such a diligent worker?

GORMON: Hah! The Dwarf Father walks wi' me now, lass. If'n He noticed me standing idle, He'd find me summat really challengin' ta do. So, ya see, I'm not being dilligent at all... I'm jus' too lazy ta be caught doin' nuffin'!

SEELYA LAUGHS MELODICALLY.

SEELYA: You... you seem even happier than I remember you before the... you know.

GORMON: Aye, happier than then, yet not as happy as yestermonth.

SEELYA: Oh? Is something wrong?

GORMON: Well, Father's feeling a little glum, is all. I mean, He's not as bad as when they broke up Nurazar, not that ya know nuffin' 'bout that, but nor is He wearin' bright clothes an' bangin' a tamborine, if'n ya get ma drift.

SEELYA: That is terrible!

GORMON: Aye, fer sure, fer sure. But 'ere's a question for ya, lass: Wha's tha most important thing that a Phaestean can do?

SEELYA: Work hard!

GORMON: Nawp. It's important, aye, but not tha most important.

SEELYA: Hmmm. Perservering? You know, always moving forward.

GORMON: Again, we do that, but it ain't tha most important. Lemme tell ya. Tha most important thing we Phaesteans do is look after our family.

SEELYA: Aww, that is lovely.

GORMON: Aye, 'tis, and all can learn much from Lord Phaestus' example of familial love. Take yerself, lass. Have ya been in touch wi' yer Sisters since ya woke up?

SEELYA: You mean the Siren Clan?

GORMON: Now a High Clan, in fact, but don' worry yaself over tha distinction there.

SWEAT FLIES FROM GORMON'S BROW AS HE WORKS AT REFINING THE QUALITY OF AN ORNATE STEEL RAPIER.

SEELYA: I tried to get in contact with Gwynne but, by dreams and sleep, there is no sign of her.

GORMON: That Maldaathi lass? No, I've not noticed her about lately neither, though she did definitely come back from the Mother's Halls. Not that she's likely ta return ta Cyrene anytime soon after tha greetin' tha Bard Lord gave 'er back when. But ya really ought ta see yer Sisters. Nothing is more important than-

GORMON HOLDS UP HIS WORK APPRAISINGLY. THE PREVIOUS MASS OF COMMODITIES IS NOW IN THE FORM OF AN ORNATE STEEL RAPIER.

SEELYA: Family. But I don't want to rely on people anymore, Gormon. I'm not-

GORMON: (HAMMERING ONCE MORE) A victim. So ya keep sayin', lass. But why not? I'm a victim. I'm a victim ta ma family. A victim ta Lord Phaestus. And whilst you're not a victim your 'eart's safe, fer sure, fer sure. Safe from betrayal. Safe from breakin'. Safe from lovin'. If'n ya don't wanna connect wi' folks, Seelya, then why did ya choose ta wake up?

A PENSIVE SILENCE, THOUGH PUNCTUATED BY THE RINGING OF GORMON'S HAMMER.

SEELYA: So you are going to help Him cheer up?

GORMON: Nawp. You are.

SEELYA: I'm sorry?

GORMON: M'Lord likes a good drink, an' a good song both. So, it seems ya've got a sharp quill but a lean purse, whereas I've more gold'n I need but less verse. On behalf o' tha Order of tha Great Smith, I'd like ta commission ya ta write a drinkin' song.

SWEAT FLIES FROM GORMON'S BROW AS HE WORKS AT REFINING THE QUALITY OF AN ORNATE STEEL RAPIER.

SEELYA: Oh, Gormon, I couldn't-

GORMON: Help an' old friend out? Are we still bein' silly, lass? Remember, if'n ya say 'no', yer not jus' refusing ma help, yer also refusin' ta help me. An' I know ya won't do that. So are ya gonna turn yer back on me, Seelya, or gimme a hug?

GORMON TAKES AN ORNATE STEEL RAPIER FROM A STURDY IRON FORGE.

GORMON: And before y'answer me, lass, I'd like ya ta accept this rapier; it'll help ya ta bash up tha rest o' tha gold, because, pardon me, that thing yer usin' at tha moment must've been forged by a drunken, blind orc. So, here ya go. Which I think means y'owe me a li'l favour, fer sure.

GORMON GIVES AN ORNATE STEEL RAPIER TO SEELYA

SEELYA: Oh, Gormon, you incorrigible fool; of course I will help you!

SEELYA RUNS UP TO GORMON AND ENVELOPS HIM IN A MASSIVE BEARHUG.

GORMON: Tha's more like't. Now, tell me what's what in th'Academie these days.

CURTAIN

ACT II, SCENE 4

CYRENE'S CENTRAL CROSSING AT DAY. THE SOUND OF TOWNSFOLK GOING ABOUT THEIR BUSINESS PERVADES THE SCENE. THE SET IS DOMINATED BY THE CYRENIAN CLOCK TOWER AT CENTRE STAGE, AND A STONE BENCH AND STONE PEDESTAL ARE ALSO VISIBLE. A HEAP IS VISIBLE AT STAGE LEFT.

CITIZEN ONE AND CITIZEN TWO STAND IN CONVERSATION.

CITIZEN ONE: Just three months 'til the year six-hundred turns.

CITIZEN TWO: Aye, and when did victory ever seem so sure? From treasure hunts to riddles, and crafting contests in betwixt. All Cyrene is prepared to sweep the riches, and folks are whispering that the Imperiate himself is favourite to take the Staff.

ENTER CITIZEN THREE

CITIZEN THREE WALKS UNHURRIEDLY THROUGH THE SQUARE, HEEDLESS OF THE CONVERSATION.

CITIZEN ONE: And high time Cyrene lifted it. High time indeed. The City of Respect and true Freedom. Never knew the Imperiate was entering; he'll win... unless the Blade Unsung should enter.

CITIZEN THREE STOPS AND INSPECTS THE HEAP ON THE FLOOR.

CITIZEN TWO: Pfft, a fancy name and a silly mask, and the element of surprise. But none of that'll help him in the contests.

CITIZEN THREE: Murder! Murder! Murder!

ENTER TROUBADOUR

TROUBADOUR: (ASIDE) By Song, not again. (ALOUD) Cease your yelling, citizen; if you have charges I'll hear them.

CITIZEN THREE POINTS AT THE HEAP.

CITIZEN THREE: She's dead!

CITIZEN ONE: By the Garden! That's Raphella!

TROUBADOUR: Who?

CITIZEN TWO: Ah, the diva. Used to work at the theatre.

TROUBADOUR: And now dead... but what is this in her hand?

TROUBADOUR REACHES DOWN AND INSPECTS THE BODY, THEN SIGHS.

TROUBADOUR: A cookie. More thrice-damned deadly delicacies. But what is this? A trail of crumbs! You three, get the word out that the Cookie Killer is still at work. I shall see whither this finger of accusation points.

EXEUNT

CURTAIN

ACT II, Scene 5

A PLUSH, PINK BEDROOM, NEAT AND TIDY, AND IN A STATE OF FINE REPAIR. THE PINK COW-PRINT CURTAINS ARE THROWN OPEN, ALLOWING THE ROOM TO BE LIT WITH MOONLIGHT. THE MOON, NEAR FULL, IS VISIBLE THROUGH THE WINDOW. CENTRAL, A FOUR-POSTER BED SWATHED IN NEW, ALLURING SILKS.

ENTER SEELYA

SEELYA: Without doubt my hardest task yet, but Gormon had the full of it. A Clan of proud women, fierce in love and loyalty, inconstant in mood and manner, as different as the phases of the-

SEELYA PAUSES, SEEING THE MOON THROUGH HER WINDOW. HER RAPIER RINGS OUT BRIGHTLY AS SHE DRAWS IT FROM A LEATHER SHOULDER SCABBARD. POINTING THE BLADE RESPECTFULLY AT THE MOON, SEELYA CURTSEYS SOLEMNLY, THEN CRISPLY RE-SHEATHES THE WEAPON.

SEELYA:

How long since weeping eyes have viewed this space!

A victim died, and I stand in her place!

For robbery and breaches of the Law

Did strike me low, yet trouble me no more.

Yes, swift I was to cast aside in trade

A sharp quill for a larger, sharper blade

But now I see where I am best and strong;

This siren's strength rests in writ siren song.

Ashes to wood! Darkness to light, and soon!

I'll wax where once I waned, much like the Moon.

Ourania, please grant me, unafraid,

To rise and fall upon life's roiling waves.

I am complete. At last, I've found my peace;

In Sapience I've found my place and niche.

CURTAIN

ACT II, Scene 6

A SECTION OF THE HIGHWAY, WHICH CONTINUES NORTH INTO THE BACKGROUND. THE BLACK FOREST AND, FURTHER, THE SAVANNAH, THE DAKHOTAS AND THE MHOJAVE ARE ALL VISIBLE IN THE DISTANCE. THE GRASSY FLOOR IS TRAMPLED FLAT BY THE MYRIADS OF FEET THAT GATHER HERE EACH MONTH.

ENTER SEELYA

SEELYA: Salutations and celebrations to you, Lady Sol. You have chased away my Lady, yet all things are good with your faithful promise of rebirth and renewal! Within the hour my debt is paid and all things are good.

ENTER DORN AND NUNE

NUNE: (to DORN) ...and at that precise moment, in walks his wife!

DORN: Hah! What did he say? "She said she was a doctor!" Hah, that'll learn him.

NUNE: (SPYING SEELYA) Hush, brother!

SEELYA: Out pranking are we, boys?

NUNE and DORN: Who? Us?

SEELYA: (LAUGHS) Well Miscuri or not, you're still my friends.

DORN: Who told you we're Miscuri?

SEELYA: It doesn't matter. I've been reading about Mischief, and it isn't malicious.

DORN: You know what the worst thing about being a prankster is?

SEELYAl: What?

DORN: The working conditions. Did you ever once hear about a prankster retiring? Or, better yet, a prankster retiring rich?

SEELYA: Would you believe, I don't think I have.

NUNE: So, what are you up to?

SEELYA: I'm meeting with Fingers; I owe him a ton of cash.

NUNE and DORN: Fingers!? Here!?

SEELYA: Yes, calm down. What is wrong?

DORN: Err, he's a thief!

NUNE: Yeah, a thief. He'll rob us.

SEELYA: He's just coming to pick up the gold I owe him.

DORN: You've got it all already?

NUNE: All one-hundred-kay?

SEELYA: Yes, every last penny, at last. Hang on, how do you kn-

DORN: Well that's great, but, you see, we've got history with Fingers, so best be on our way. Hugs!

DORN HUGS SEELYA AFFECTIONATELY.

DORN: Gotta dash!

NUNE: Gotta run!

EXIT DORN AND NUNE

SEELYA: Madder than a net full of butterflies, those two. Ah, here he comes.

ENTER FINGERS

FINGERS DOFFS HIS TOP HAT, AND BOW THEATRICALLY TO SEELYA.

FINGERS: I've met many customers, more than I can count on my... you know. But there's two kinds o' customers, ya see: them's aren't easy on the eyes, and them're like you.

SEELYA: You knave!

FINGERS:

How sweet.

SEELYA:

Drop dead!

FINGERS:

Aww, bless.

BOTH:

Enough!

SEELYA AND FINGERS GLARE AT ONE ANOTHER FOR A LONG MOMENT.

FINGERS: Got the gold?

SEELYA: Yes. And a month early. It was nothing. Now, you take the gold and we are done, and you can never rob me again. Or is this another trick?

FINGERS: Of course not. We made an agreement involving gold. If I didn't hold up my end I'd be spending the next months soaking up the sun and feeding on dung. But I'm sure you know that...

SEELYA: Bastard.

FINGERS: Careful. Beautiful as you are, Ol' Fingers doesn't much like name-calling. Don't get mad, little girl, get strong then get even. You gonna look back at the past, at how you lost your journal and Ol' Fingers was kind enough to find it, for a modest fee? Or are you gonna look forward to how you'll repay this rogue the rogue's coin? And speaking o' coin... the gold, if you'd be so kind.

SEELYA RUMMAGES IN HER KITBAG.

SEELYA: No! It was in here! I had it; I swear it! By sleep and dreams, and the moon as well, I swear it!

FINGERS: Tut, tut, tut. Such trickery is unbecoming. Do I really have to conclude that you're reneging on our accord? That would upset the Pentad.

SEELYA: I had it!

FINGERS: So have I.

SEELYA: I'll get it. I still have over a month.

FINGERS: Then best get ratting. I'd love to see ya bush... but I'd hate to see ya bushy.

SEELYA SPITS ON THE GROUND IN DISGUST.

EXIT SEELYA

FINGERS WIPES THE BACK OF HIS HAND ACROSS HIS HEAD IN RELIEF.

FINGERS: Whew. Too close... I almost lost him there...

CURTAIN

END OF ACT II

-_-_-_-_-_-_- ACT III -_-_-_-_-_-_-

ACT III, Scene 1

A MOUNTAIN SETTLEMENT, DOMINATED BY A PIT OF FIRE AT CENTRE STAGE. TOOLS ARE SCATTERED HERE AND THERE, AND A SPIT STRETCHES OVER THE COALS. A RING OF TENTS SURROUNDS THE PLACE. DESPITE THE BUSYNESS SUGGESTED BY THE SCENE, NARY A SOUL IS IN EVIDENCE.

ENTER SEELYA

SEELYA: Ack, my arms ache, my back aches, and so does its side. But, by the Moon I'm still on track. Hmm, this place is quiet indeed; I hope Adalgar is at home.

SEELYA STEPS INTO A CHIEFTAIN'S TENT, HIDDEN FROM VIEW FROM WITHOUT.

A SHIMMERING FILLS THE AIR, AND THE IMAGE OF MYRIAD DEAD DWARVES IS SUDDENLY VISIBLE, THEIR BODIES STREWN HERE AND THERE IN A TABLEAU OF UNSPEAKABLE VIOLENCE.

ENTER SEELYA, FROM WITHIN A CHIEFTAIN'S TENT

SEELYA: What madness is this? Adalgar nowhere to be seen, and a sudden massacre in minutes? I... I don't understand.

ENTER GUARD ONE AND GUARD TWO

GUARD ONE: (TO SEELYA) By the authority of the Church, I am hereby arresting you for the slaying of Innocents.

SEELYA: No, it was not me. I just came toturn in some orcs; I was helping the dwarves out. None of this was here when I arrived.

GUARD TWO: So... when you arrived there were no dead dwarves, and now there are?

SEELYA: Yes! I mean, no, not like that. I didn't-

GUARD ONE: Save it for the courts, miss. We were tipped off that somebody was up here killing dwarves. You can come with us quietly if you wish. But you will be coming.

SEELYA SLUMPS DOWN DEJECTEDLY. GUARD ONE AND GUARD TWO EACH TAKE HER BY AN ARM AND MARCH HER FROM THE STAGE.

EXEUNT

IN A SHOWY FLASH, THE DEAD DWARVES ALL VANISH. THE DISTINCT SOUND OF WHISPERING IN XORANI FILLS THE STAGE, FOLLOWED BY GIGGLING.

CURTAIN

ACT III, Scene 2

CYRENE'S CENTRAL CROSSING AT DAY. THE SOUND OF TOWNSFOLK GOING ABOUT THEIR BUSINESS PERVADES THE SCENE. THE SET IS DOMINATED BY THE CYRENIAN CLOCK TOWER AT CENTRE STAGE, AND A STONE BENCH AND STONE PEDESTAL ARE ALSO VISIBLE.

TOWNCRIER STANDS BY THE PEDESTAL, RINGING OUT THE NEWS, AS CITIZEN ONE, CITIZEN TWO AND CITIZEN THREE SIT ON THE STONE BENCH IN QUIET CONVERSATION.

TOWNCRIER: Hear ye, hear ye! Know ye that in this final month of the year 599 after the fall of the Seleucarian Empire, our ratman Jorj has been found guilty of murder most foul! Aye, our lawmen have found irrefutable evidence that Jorj is none other than the Cookie Killer, being guilty of the murder in the first degree of Raphella, and more than one count of serious assault with intent to kill on a number of other guests and citizens. Hear ye, hear ye! The Cookie Killer has been caught!

EXIT TOWNCRIER

CITIZEN ONE: So it was Jorj what did it?

CITIZEN TWO: Aye, seems so. He always did seem a little strange, that one. Some say he might even be the Blade Unsung.

CITIZEN THREE: A sad day for Cyrene, that one of ours should commit so ill a crime. But justice is done.

CITIZEN ONE: Aye, but, this close to a new year we can put it all behind us. The worst of the century is past. Right?

CURTAIN

ACT III, Scene 3

THE COUNCIL CHAMBER OF THE CALIPH, IN THE CITADEL OF SHALLAM. A LARGE CHAMBER OF CRYSTAL, LIT FROM THREE MASSIVE, ARCHED WINDOWS FACING NORTH, EAST AND SOUTH. THE LIGHTING OF THE SET SUGGESTS ANOTHER, UNSEEN WINDOW AT THE FORTH WALL. A LARGE DESK OF CRYSTAL RISES MAJESTICALLY FROM THE FLOOR, WITH NARY A SEAM TO SUGGEST THAT THEY WERE WROUGHT SEPARATELY. ABOVE THE DESK A SILVER CANDELABRUM ADDS TO THE PEACEFUL LIGHT OF THIS ROOM. THE SOUND OF FERVENT PRAYER AND THE BUSTLE OF THE CITY BELOW FUSE INTO A UNIQUE MURMUR THAT PERVADES THE SCENE.

EAMONN STANDS BEHIND HIS DESK, HEAD BOWED IN PRAYER. HE IS BEARING THE PERSONAL ARMS OF THE FAMILY GOODCHILD, BUT IS OTHERWISE BEDECKED IN THE REGALIA OF THE OFFICE OF CALIPH.

ENTER SEELYA, FLANKED BY GUARD ONE AND GUARD TWO

SEELYA: Eamonn... It's you; you're the Caliph? I didn't kill those dwarves.

EAMONN RAISES HIS HEAD AND CEASES HIS PRAYERS.

EAMONN: Peace, child. I am not your judge; none may judge but the Te'Serra. (TO THE GUARDSMEN) Leave us.

EXIT GUARD ONE AND GUARD TWO

EAMONN: Seelya, my love. How I've longed to see you all these years. The centuries have been good to you; you're every bit as beautiful as I remember. I'd heard tell that you were awake again, but such rumours are ten-a-sovereign these days. Every other word is a legend, each whisper and flickering shadow a new conspiracy. But you are here now; all is good.

SEELYA: I didn't kill, them, I swear. I have always been leal before Cyrene, and now to Lord Phaestus, our Patron.

EAMONN WAVES HIS HAND DISMISSIVELY.

EAMONN: Am I not Caliph, Seelya? Does not the guilt in men's hearts cry out to me for absolution? I can see your innocence as clearly as your face.

SEELYA: Oh, thank you, Eamonn! Thank you!

EAMONN: Of course. But give me news of the outside world. Matters of state have kept me within the Bascillica walls for too long.

SEELYA: Well, all is hale, on the whole. There are theives and assassins abroad, but the folk are bouyant in the run-up to next month's celebrations.

EAMONN: Yes, in with the new year. I shall watch it from my balcony and hope that he hasn't turned atavian, nor learned the darkbow.

SEELYA: Who?

EAMONN: Never mind. He can't hurt us now, Seelya, never again. Now nothing can tear us apart.

SEELYA: Zhade... You're hiding from Zhade?

EAMONN: A puffed up man, and proud! Self-important and treating all Sapience as his playground. But he was struck low for his sinfulness. Yes, the Te'Serra, even They! were aware of the darkness in his heart, and so he was struck low. He was struck low.

SEELYA: Tell me you didn't do it, Eamonn. Tell me you didn't set him up like he said.

EAMONN: I'll not be tried by that braggart. I am a man righteous and true, a guardian of the Light. But for me, the armies of hell would be running across our sacred lands, and you would ask me if I behaved treacherously? Which of us stands accused here?

SEELYA: Just say you didn't do it, please, Eamonn.

EAMONN: He was judged for a lifetime of sin and found wanting.

SEELYA: By whom, Eamonn? Was it you, yes or no?

EAMONN: I have only ever been a servant of the Light. It is the Light that wields me, Seelya; or should I ask your rapier if it is guilty of the slaughter in the mountains? But enough of this. You have more pressing concerns than that disgusting human, child. Have you raised the gold you need to prevent your doom before the Garden?

SEELYA: How do you even know about that?

EAMONN: You sent me a letter... explaining it all. Come, don't be coy; you wanted my help and now you have it. I will pay this lay thief, and then when this is settled the entire might of Shallam shall crush him for his wickedness.

SEELYA: Eamonn, I'm grateful that you want to help, I really am, but I couldn't ask you for so much gold, nor could I ask Shallam to defend a single woman.

EAMONN: What better wedding gift could I give than that of life and freedom? And Shallam would take heart in protecting her Queen.

SEELYA: Wedding gift..? Shallam's Queen..? Oh! You mean...

EAMONN: Indeed. Take my hand, Seelya, and be my wife, and this will all go away.

SEELYA: Eamonn, I... I would have to think about it.

EAMONN: Then think, Seelya. You have a month to think about it. But remember what's at stake here.

SEELYA: How dare you! You would hold this travesty before me to bribe me into the marriage bed?

EAMONN: Hold your tongue. Remember to whom you speak.

SEELYA: Stop this pretentiousness; we are old friends, Eamonn.

EAMONN: No, the time for friendship has passed. I have waited for too long; either we are man and wife... or we are Caliph and sinner.

SEELYA SLAPS EAMONN ON THE CHEEK.

SEELYA: You monster. Nothing has changed at all, has it? We each have pretended that we have left it behind us, but every soul of us is a prisoner of the past, and none moreso than you. I'll go to soil before I take to your bed, Eamonn. I will not-

EAMONN: (SHOUTS) Silence! I have heard enough of your prattle. Guards!

ENTER GUARD ONE AND GUARD TWO

EAMONN: Escort this one to the city gates. She is bailed pending further investigation of the atrocities in Siroccian, which you both witnessed. I believe we'll have all the information we need by the new year.

CURTAIN

ACT III, Scene 4

THE GARDEN OF THE ARTS. A RIOT OF GREEN LEAVES AND VIBRANT RED FLOWERS IS DIZZYING ON THE EYE YET BRILLIANTLY UNIFIED, WITH THE SUGGESTION OF OTHER HUES BEGINNING AT THE STAGE'S PERIPHERIES. A FENCE, WHOSE PALES ARE SHAPED AS QUILLS, RUNS THE LENGTH OF STAGE LEFT, AND OFF INTO THE BACKGROUND. INCONSTANT SLIVERS OF MOONLIGHT ILLUMINATE THE SCENE TWIXTS DRIFTING CLOUDS.

SEELYA:

Such red... such passion. Just as in my breast.

Yet hold my rage I must, or fail this test!

I do not want to die.

And, yes!, he holds before me golden life:

If only I'll consent to be his wife

I shall not die.

But which is worse: a shrubbery or whore

(For such I'll be if bought, and never more)?

Am I prepared to die?

Folks celebrate, as new beginnings loom.

And now, this way or that, I face my doom...

(PAUSE)

For either way, I die.

THE CLOUDS PART, AND THE SCENE BURSTS FULLY INTO CRIMSON LIFE BENEATH THE LIGHT OF THE FULL MOON.

SEELYA:

(TO THE MOON)

My Waxing, Waning Lady, full and bright.

Your silver eye is strength to me this night.

Yes, surely for an artist, leafy plight

Within this garden's bearable, no, right!

So, as the Moon, I'll face sleep and not cry.

Tonight I'll waver not. I choose to die.

SEELYA BOWS HER HEAD TO THE MOON IN SILENT COMMUNE FOR A MOMENT BEFORE TURNING FROM IT.

SEELYA: I know you're there. You can come out, Fingers.

ENTER FINGERS, YON ENTRANCE PRECEDED BY SLOW MOCKING APPLAUSE.

FINGERS: Seems I sold you short when I put that mouth to use in my dreams last night... A pretty song, siren. Only here's the thing: Which of your friends will cry the loudest when you pass? I mean, sure, it'll break Gormon's heart. He may even go to sleep himself and never wake up, because I'm telling you he barely made it through last time. But, ya see, Gianna ran even further, didn't she? And now, she cannot even bear the thought of what happened way back when; she's spent the last two hundred years refusing to think about it. How will she fare now, to lose her old friend a second time?

SEELYA: Fingers, I know you want your gold. But this isn't about you any more. Or me, if truth be told. This is about moving forward.

FINGERS: Moving forward by dying? I've heard some silly things spouted by artists, lass, more than I can count on my you-know-whats, but that's a new one. Wanna know what They don't tell you about being shrubbed? It's that you feel it when They shrub you. You feel your bones changing, your skin turning to bark, and the sting of sap coursing through yer veins. And you're not even really a bush, no! You're a thinking bush. Ya can rustle and that's it. It's torment beyond compare, lass.

SEELYA: I... this is not just about the gold, is it? What is it that you really want, Fingers? What is your stake in all of this?

FINGERS: There's only two types o' thief in the world, lass: Them as'll do anything for the payday, and them's aren't really thieves.

SEELYA: No. There is more to it than that. It's... almost as if you want me to want to pay but not to be able to, because I know you had something to do with me being robbed the second time only... no...

ENTER NUNE AND DORN

DORN: Yes.

SEELYA: No... not you two.

NUNE: You know what the worst thing about being a prankster is? That folks always assume you're Miscuri, even though they're wrong. And that folks always expect the worst of you... and they're usually right.

DORN: Sorry, Seelya. We really do love you, but we were in pretty deep.

NUNE: We needed to do it, to get back what we lost.

FINGERS: You did well, kids. I'm even tempted not to tie the pair of ya together with yer guts as I threatened when last we parted. Is he coming?

NUNE: Aye, in seconds. Is the Blade in place?

FINGERS: Aye. Begone.

NUNE AND DORN TOSS A SPARKLING CLOUD OF DUST OVER THEMSELVES, AND VANISH LITTLE BY LITTLE INTO INVISIBILITY.

SEELYA: What is this, Fingers? Please just tell me what is going on.

FINGERS DRAWS A BLACK STILLETO, AND ADVANCES THREATENINGLY ON SEELYA.

FINGERS: Please just give me my damned money, you dim-witted fool! And... try and look distressed?

ENTER EAMONN

EAMONN: Stand down! Put up your steel, or, by the Light!, I will call down the very might of Heaven upon you! You oaf, you bastard, you craven bottom-feeding parasite, a scourge on good society! Stand down, Fingers, I say again or you will face the wrath of Goodness itself.

FINGERS: Ah, and here's the hero. Or is it the villain? Eamonn Goodchild, down from his ivory tower.

EAMONN: Yes, you recognise me? That is good, for you then know that I am Caliph. Know then that my word is as good as my heart, and I have brought the gold that Seelya owes you.

SEELYA: No.

EAMONN: Aye, I have.

SEELYA: No, I will not allow you to pay my debt, Eamonn. I am a victim to love, and naught else. The past is behind me. I embrace what comes next.

EAMONN: No, hush, my love, it is doom and madness you speak. (TO FINGERS) Come, call off the Garden, boy. It is as good as paid; my men have surrounded this place; you may either take this purse and depart, or stay and die. Have you nothing to say, mhun?

FINGERS: Aye, actually, I have.

EAMONN: Then say it.

FINGERS GRINS WICKEDLY.

FINGERS: I think the dish is cold enough now.

ENTER ZHADE, AT FULL CHARGE, SWORD FLASHING AT THE READY.

EAMONN WRITHES AND SCREAMS AS ZHADE SKEWERS HIM UPON HIS CRUEL BLADE. EAMONN'S COINPURSE FLIES FROM HIS HAND AS HE IS STRUCK, AND IT IS NIMBLY CAUGHT BY FINGERS JUST AS A MASSIVE BURST OF FIREWORKS IN THE BACKGROUND HERALDS THE BEGINNING OF THE YEAR 600 AF.

ZHADE: It is paid! With your blood, it is paid. Two hundreds years in hiding, skulking from contract to contract, my blade unsung, my name scarce known, my face unseen, my deeds unnoted, just another nobody in the crowd as I watched you rise to the top like the scum of a privvy-cleaning bucket. But it is paid!

EAMONN: (FALLING) Zhade! My nemisis... But I was so careful...

ZHADE WIPES HIS BLADE CLEAN ON THE GROANING EAMONN.

SEELYA: Zhade!

ZHADE: Seelya... thank you.

SEELYA: For what?

FINGERS: Do you still not get it? You were bait, woman. And now, vengeance is paid, and coin too. (TO ZHADE) Are you ready? The guard will be here in minutes.

ZHADE: Yes. Please... let me just have a moment with her?

FINGERS: You have sixty seconds.

SEELYA: Sixty seconds to what? (TO FINGERS) Wait, why did you help him?

ZHADE: That was Her price, Seelya. A lifetime of service to Her, in exchange for my vengeance upon Goodchild. I'm sorry I had to use you, honestly I am. I am sorry I woke you in the first place and departed without a word, that I had Ker- I mean, Fingers rob you. But nothing else would have drawn him out.

SEELYA: You used me... You used me!

FINGERS: Ah... such pain. Would you have vengeance, lass?

SEELYA: Who are you?

FINGERS: I think you know.

ENTER NUNE AND DORN

NUNE: They're here. Now. (KNEELING BEFORE FINGERS) Please take us back, Our Lady.

DORN: (KNEELING BEFORE FINGERS) Please, Our Lady.

FINGERS: Yes, it was well done; you are both forgiven and re-welcomed into My peace. Have you had your vengeance?

DORN: Aye, we have. Jorj will never see daylight again, Raphella is dead, and the losses that Martina took will leave her in poverty for decades to come.

NUNE: They come!

FINGERS DRAWS A GLEAMING SWORD, WITH A LARGE PYTHON TWISTING ENDLESSLY AROUND THE BLADE. UPON THE POMMEL, A LARGE CROW IS PERCHED WITH WINGS FLARED. FINGERS SWINGS THE SWORD, TEARING A RIFT IN THE FABRIC OF THE GARDEN ITSELF, THROUGH WHICH A SWIRLING MIASMA IS VISIBLE.

EXIT NUNE AND DORN, THROUGH THE RIFT

ZHADE: (TO FINGERS) Please, let her come as well. If she's found here by the corpse of the Caliph, after being accused of slaying Innocents...

FINGERS: Indeed. And she will forever know that it was you that put her in that position, My servant. (TO SEELYA) If they ever do release you, and you wish to have -your- vengeance... come and find Me.

ZHADE: I'll... I'll let Goodchild live! He's not yet dead; I'll let him live if You let her come with us. He'll hate me more than she ever could.

FINGERS: Hmmm... an interesting proposition. He will spend the rest of his life attempting to repay you for this coup. I accept.

SEELYA: But perhaps I don't.

FINGERS: (SHRUGS) Perhaps you don't. Either way... I win. Come, Zhade, the Blade Unsung. The finest swordsman in Sapience... we have much work to do.

EXIT FINGERS, THROUGH THE PORTAL.

ZHADE LOOKS LONGINGLY AT SEELYA, WHO STARES HATEFULLY BACK AT HIM. ZHADE SIGHS.

EXIT ZHADE, THROUGH THE PORTAL

SEELYA:

The sound of boots approaches. Here my choice:

Remain and heal the Caliph with Bardic voice,

And then be forced to wed or rot in jail.

Or... flee abroad, and start a darker tale.

He bleeds and dies. No more than is deserved

But I will face the music if judgment's served.

Damn you, D'Splay, for placing me herein!

Once more I am a victim of others' sin...

I could remain and leave him to his fate,

But likely, then, the hangman's noose awaits.

Married or dead or fugitive. All pains.

It seems a tripartite woman remains.

The world is ill and villainy in turns.

It seems that is the truth we each must learn.

SEELYA LOOKS BETWEEN THE GROANING FORM OF EAMONN AND THE PORTAL AS THE SOUND OF RUNNING BOOTS CRESCENDOS. AS THE NOISE REACHES A PEAK, ALL LIGHTS EXTINGUISH.

CURTAIN

END OF ACT III

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