Islana's Story
Jereh told Islana about her conversation with Erra carefully, waiting to see how she'd react. Islana had realized that from the moment the King was mentioned and kept her facial expression very, very carefully neutral.
"Interesting," was her only comment.
"What..." Cleran paused. "What did he mean by what you did in the past?" "Nothing you need to worry about," she muttered.
He looked over at Jereh, who didn't respond either. There was a long moment of silence. "Continue," Jereh ordered.
Islana shrugged. "You interrupted me."
"And now I'm finished. Continue."
Islana glared at her for a minute. Cleran wondered briefly about their history—they seemed to have something behind them. Maybe something to do with Islana's past... But I thought that between Dysis and Ocan, we knew about her past...
"Islana," Jereh snarled. "Continue. It's an order."
"An order?" Islana demanded. "You have no right to demand to know anything about this, and no right to ask me to repeat everything that they—that I—no right."
"That Warrior must have done a good job if you're still so scared," Jereh said coldly.
There was another long quiet pause, and Islana's face was unreadable. "That was out of line," she said finally.
"I don't care," Jereh answered. "I gave you an order, Islana. Deal with your fears on your own time."
"This is my own time."
"It was, but now you're reporting to your ranking officer. So get on with it!"
Cleran was just shocked. Islana narrowed her eyes. "I won't forget about this," she promised.
"I wouldn't expect you to," Jereh snarled. "Now for the love of the Goddess, would you please finish?"
"Jereh, you can't just—"
"I'll continue," Cleran interrupted. He gave Islana a nervous look. She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.
[OPENING CREDITS]
Episode 4: Galiera
Her first look at Dysis Serathi was from her hands and knees on the floor. She had only taken a few steps into the room when Cleran grabbed by the arm and shoved her forward and down, causing her to fall. She took just enough time as she righted herself to be kneeling relatively comfortably to give him a nasty glare.
Dysis was standing behind his desk, next to his chair; the sun was coming in the window behind him, leaving him looking like a silhouette with yellow glowing edges, almost like a shining image of Ocando Himself.
Islana squinted up at him for a moment and was barely able to make out his features: a sharp nose with high, defined cheekbones, brown eyes, light red hair. A smirk. She glanced around the room and caught the technique; the room showed that Dysis was rich and powerful and someone she shouldn't argue with. She was surprised to see another man sitting on the couch, watching with interest, or more precisely, she was surprised because he had two black streaks dyed into his hair.
Dysis said a few words to Cleran that Islana couldn't understand, and Cleran nodded. She glanced over at the man on the couch, who nodded very slightly but didn't react otherwise.
"So," Dysis said, placing his palms on his desk and leaning forward slightly, "you're the Knight responsible for so many deaths." Cleran provided translation, almost as Dysis spoke. Islana realized suddenly how well he spoke his second language. She opened her mouth to answer, but Cleran placed a hand firmly on her shoulder. "Watch your answer," he said.
"I am the Knight who destroyed the fleet," she said eventually. She squinted her eyes and tried again to make out Dysis' features; there was something odd about him that she couldn't quite place.
"And you're proud of it?"
She smiled grimly. "No. But I did it."
"You'd do it again?"
"Yes."
"You don't regret it, then?"
"I regret it was necessary."
Dysis smiled and finally was content to sit. As he did and the chair behind him cut off the sunlight, Islana was finally able to get a decent look at him and realize why she'd thought there was something odd about him: his features were almost the same as Cleran's. She glanced up at Cleran to be sure and confirmed it. They looked far too alike for it to be a coincidence.
The smirk on her face gave away what she'd figured out. Cleran looked away, half ashamed and half annoyed; Dysis smiled slightly. "A smart girl you are." Their voices even sounded alike. "Yes. You're wondering and you're correct; Cleran is my younger brother." He paused than amended, "Half-brother."
"Interesting."
Dysis shrugged. "Cleran is my brother," he repeated. "And I won't tolerate slights towards him."
"I'll try not to slight him while you're listening," she answered.
"I meant ever, Knight."
She nodded slightly. "You're far more polite than I'd been lead to expect, I must say. I'd like to offer you a deal for as long as you're in my office—if you can be polite and honest, so will I; no force will be used against you while you're here, or because you're here. So long as you're cooperative."
"Do what you say and you won't hurt me. Of course."
"I don't have to be civil towards you, though I understand you've been instructed to be polite to me. But I'd like to—it seems only fair, when I have something of an advantage over you. So please. I don't want any harm to come to you."
"At least, not until my trial."
"I regret that it's necessary," he answered.
She nodded slightly and gave him a hint of a smile.
"I think perhaps we understand each other better than any one would expect. We're both driven by necessity. So we have an agreement?" Dysis continued.
She nodded again, and he smiled kindly and motioned to Cleran, who released her shoulder. "Good. I have a few questions for you now." He shuffled through a few papers on his desk, found one, and pushed it across towards her. Cleran motioned for her to keep still and handed it to her. She accepted the paper, glanced at it, and then back at Dysis.
"You recognize the symbol?" he asked.
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
She looked at it again, but didn't have to. The symbol drawn on the paper was done in blue and silver; it showed a blue crescent moon inside a silver crown. She couldn't remember a time before she knew what that represented.
"Yes."
"What's it mean?"
"It's the symbol of the Kelanister family," she said flatly.
"Who are the Kelanisters?"
"The royal family of Kalatsu."
"Family?" he asked. "Describe them."
"Him," she corrected. "Erra Kelanister, the King. He's an old man with no Heir. A pain in the ass, but people love him."
"If he's such a pain, why is he liked at all?"
"He..." she paused. "He's spent the last ten years building up enough forces to defend Kalatsu from raiders. The number of slave raids dropped. People feel safer, and thank him for it."
"And you," Dysis noted. "They thank him, and you; while he helps defend their homes, you help defeat us."
"I do what I can."
"Believe me, I'd noticed." He opened a drawer in his desk, pulled out an envelope, handed it to Cleran to give to Islana. She accepted it and opened it, and retrieved its contents: two necklaces, silver chains with matching pendants. The pendants matched the drawing he'd shown her, with the crown made of a cut diamond and the moon a sapphire. She carefully turned them over and saw initials carved on both of them: I.K. and A.K.
"Do those look familiar?"
She bit her lip. "I know of them," she said.
"Explain them to me," he said.
"The Kelanisters all wore them. All the immediate members of their family. Their initials are in the back..."
"Do you know whose initials they are?"
"Yes."
"Please," he prompted.
"Ilyan and Alira Kelanister," she said somberly.
"You sound upset," he commented.
"They were murdered seventeen years ago."
"Another act of necessity, on the part of my late mentor. I believe his death was, actually, your fault." For the first time, Dysis' voice had an edge to it. He was going to be civil and restrain himself, but he was bitter. She could tell that even without understanding the words he said.
She closed her hand over the pendants, refusing to look at them. Cleran held his hand out for them, and she relinquished them.
"I'm missing one, you know. Rallan—my predecessor—left orders than all of the Royal family's necklaces should be brought to him, proof of their deaths. They missed one, though. The youngest. Only a child."
She nodded. "Galiera."
"What?"
"Galiera Kelanister. She was Ilyan and Alira's daughter," Islana explained.
"I understand there were stories about her. Folk tales, if you will." Islana nodded. "Please, explain them."
She gave him a suspicious look. "There were people who claimed that Galiera wasn't killed, that she survived and King Erra sent her into hiding for her safety. Theoretically, she's going to reemerge someday and lead our people to victory."
"Really. And tell me, Islana Ylonna—that is your full name, correct?" he asked. She nodded. "Tell me, Islana Ylonna, do you believe in this... Galiera?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Islana shrugged slightly. "Galiera died with her parents. Her body was found; apparently, the Warriors responsible for her death must have forgotten to find your predecessor the necklace."
"You do realize why I'm asking you all of this, Islana?" he asked, smirking slightly.
"I have an idea."
"You're probably correct. I have some interesting evidence that suggests Galiera Kelanister is not as dead as you claim. In fact, my evidence very nearly suggests that you are the missing Kelanister daughter."
Islana laughed a little bit at that. "I assure you, I am not."
"Oh?" Dysis asked, clearly not convinced. She glanced over at Cleran, who was standing as if dazed or in a trance as he translated, which struck her as odd. Finally, she glanced over at the man on the couch, who was watching with obvious interest. "Then explain: you were orphaned in the destruction of Kal'Hara; were you not?"
"Lots of children were orphaned when the city was destroyed," she said. "I was one of many."
"You are approximately the same age as Galiera."
"I am," she admitted.
"And here's one of the oddest parts: there's no record of you from more than nine years ago, that any of my sources have been able to find."
"Why would there be?" she asked.
"You are from a Noble family, I'd assumed," he answered carefully.
"You assumed I was a Kelanister. Which I'm not," she pointed out.
"So tell me about your family. Where were they from? What were they doing in Kal'Hara?"
She sighed. "My family lived in Kal'Hara. Not Nobility," she said, and glanced over at Cleran again, but he seemed to be in a trance still and didn't enjoy her admitting she wasn't Nobility as much as she should have. "...but friends with the King, nonetheless."
"How so?"
"My grandfather was a Knight; he fought alongside King Erra before he left the Goddess' service," she said bitterly. He raised an eyebrow.
"I thought you said people loved King Erra...? And that he was a friend of your grandfather?"
"People do. And my grandfather used to be, but not in years."
"Why not?"
"Because King Erra turned his back on the Goddess, on everything he believed and everything he swore to do. He..." she clenched a fist in anger. "He did unforgivable things."
"Such as?"
Islana was silent for a long time, long enough for Cleran to shake his head clear of the fog that had descended over him. He wasn't sure why that happened, but every time he provided nearly synchronized translations, he found himself having an almost out of body experience. He saw that Islana wasn't answering and laid his hand on her shoulder again, and the other one meaningfully on the poker still tucked into his belt.
She took a deep breath. "If one of your Warriors was to publicly declare you to be wrong, a hypocrite, an idiot and renounce Ocando&151;not any Warrior, but perhaps your most trusted, highest ranking and a Nobleman to boot—how would other Warriors react?"
"I imagine they'd be a bit offended."
They both looked over at Cleran, who nodded grimly. "We'd be after his blood," he admitted.
"So that's what's caused the riff between your seemingly nameless High Priest and King Erra?" Dysis asked.
"It was sort of like that."
"What happened, exactly?"
"I don't know, exactly. I was only a few years old at the time; it was right after the Warriors destroyed Kal'Hara. And the Knights never speak of it."
"I see." Dysis paused. "What did your parents do? Who were they?"
"I don't remember them," she said. "But I've been told that my father was a mason, one of the higher ranking in the Guild, and my mother was staying at home to raise me."
"So that's why you lived in Kal'Hara? The Guilds?"
"Yes."
"So who raised you, after your parents died?"
She grinned. "My grandfather."
"Raised by a Knight. That explains a good deal, yes," Dysis mused. "Between that and your parents' deaths."
"You say that as if my cause wasn't just, without my parents' having died."
He gave her a dark look. "That is a subject we shouldn't even bother debating. We've been having such a nice conversation, but that is one area about which I would not be polite."
She shrugged. "Have I satisfied you yet?"
"Yes," he said, almost sadly. "You aren't her. Disappointing. But one last question about it; what is your grandfather's name?"
"Jall. He didn't take a last name when he escaped—probably why you hadn't heard of me; I chose the name Ylonna by myself when I joined the Goddess."
"Escaped? Your grandfather—you're the granddaughter of a Knight who is an escaped slave." She nodded. "Somehow, I'm not surprised by that, either. I have a few more questions, though. About King Erra, to be specific."
She waited, while he reflected. "I understand he left your Goddess' service years before the incident you spoke of a minute ago. Please explain."
"Knights can't hold rank as Nobility or Royalty. He was raised as Heir to the Throne, but ended up in the Goddess' service; his younger brother became the Heir. However, only two years after he married and his son was born, was the first attack—Kal'Halath, not Kal'Hara. You've probably heard about it."
"Yes; Rallan—my mentor—ordered the first one to destroy the Kelanisters; the second one was years later, but designed to finish what he'd started."
She nodded. "Erra's wife was with his brother and parents when Kal'Halath was attacked. She was killed along with them; it was only through sheer luck that his son—Ilyan—was saved. However, the country would have turned to chaos without someone to rule, so Erra left the Knights to reclaim his original title.
"He was crowned, but had close ties with Kaleal's church for quite a while afterwards. It wasn't until the second attack, the one that destroyed Kal'Hara, that he denounced Kaleal. His son, daughter—in—law, and Galiera were all murdered in cold blood. Very brutally. And Erra... He declared that She had left him, not the other way around; that She had taken everyone he loved."
"I see." He nodded and stood, then paced for a minute. "Islana, I'm sorry I have to do this, but you do understand you murdered the High Priest, and that means... It means I can't be merciful."
She smiled, unperturbed. "And you understand that your High Priest essentially signed my parents' death warrants?"
Dysis almost smiled. "Necessity drives me, and you, as it drove him. May he rest in peace."
May he and you rot in hell, she thought, but said nothing. He walked forward, in front of his desk, and stopped in front of her.
"But, like you, I regret what is necessary. I asked you for details about King Erra because I'm planning to have him assassinated; I wanted to make sure my information about him was correct. As you say, the people love him. I'll finish what Rallan started."
Islana nodded. "Of course."
"...But you won't have to worry about that," he concluded grimly. "Though I'd like to thank you for being so cooperative."
[EYECATCH]
Islana smiled a little. I can be cooperative. Bastard. "I can be reasonable when I choose to," she agreed. He smiled back and actually reached down to offer her a hand up—
—her eyes flashed—
—Cleran started to move, to object—
—Islana grasped Dysis' hand, and sprang to her feet before anyone could say a word; she pulled him forward, off balance, and stepped behind him, wrapping the chain that connected her wrists around his neck.
"...but then again, maybe I'm just fucking with your head," she said, tightening the chain. Dysis froze, his eyes wide and his face a mask of terror. Cleran started to move, to draw his sword, but she shook her head. "Drop your sword, and the poker, or I'll strangle him."
"Islana, you can't..."
"Yes, I can." She smiled, just as grimly as Dysis had moments before. "It's nothing personal, though."
Cleran stood, frozen, his sword half-drawn. She pulled the chain a little bit tighter and Dysis made a slight gagging noise. Cleran looked away, nodded slightly, and finished drawing his sword slowly. He dropped it, then the poker. She nodded in satisfaction.
Dysis stared frantically around the room, at the door, his brother and the man on the couch. He was trying to remain still but was very nearly trembling. "Islana," Cleran said pleadingly. "Please, you can't—he was nice to you."
"And I answered all of his questions," she said. "You really shouldn't be so surprised. I told you I was going to escape."
Cleran was still staring at his brother in horror. "I... Dysis," he whispered, then looked up at Islana. "Please," he pleaded.
"Give me a good reason, Cleran. One worth my dying for."
He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again but was still unable to come up with anything to say. She waited expectantly, smirking as he seemed to give up and stare down at the floor.
"Islana." The man on the couch spoke for the first time. She turned her attention to him, and Dysis' face became, if anything, more panicked. "I not... I do not speak good," he said in her language. "I... Cleran..?"
Cleran gave him a suspicious look, and he said something in his own language that Islana didn't understand. When he began speaking again, Cleran began translating. "Islana. Please, before you do anything permanent, before you actually hurt Dysis, let me introduce myself.
"My name is Erolis; I've foregone a surname—not by choice, you understand. About five months ago, Dysis decided to declare me a traitor. I was a bit too vocally sympathetic to your cause, but it was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.
"It meant I was able to freely fall in love with a woman who had formerly been a slave. She is now... Her name is Nirra. And she's worth a thousand times what I had before... Which was quite a lot, honestly. I was the son of a High Lord—I think that's about the same as, say, a Prince on your Island.
"Personally, I don't care if you kill Dysis. But when everyone urged him to have my Nirra executed, he decided to punish me instead and leave her alone." He shrugged. "That in itself means your people are better off with him in charge than the man who'll follow him. His name is Arot, and he's awful. Absolutely awful. Even I prefer Dysis."
She gave him a long, hard look. "Though trust me, I'll treasure the look on his face right now forever."
Islana chuckled at that. "Interesting. But if I can murder two High Priests, why shouldn't I be able to destroy a third?"
"Your luck has to run out eventually." He shrugged. "But if you won't be compelled, will you bargain?"
"Bargain how?"
"What do you want?—aside from your freedom. I don't think I can promise that for you, but..." he trailed of, trying to figure out a way of explaining what he meant. "But perhaps a bargain of another sort? Perhaps, for his life, he'll keep you out of the torture chamber."
"No, he won't," she said. "For one thing, I just broke my bargain with him, obviously. Why should he bargain faithfully with me?"
"Because Dysis couldn't lie if his life depended on it," Erolis said. "Because he's a man of principles, who would never give his word if he didn't mean it. Not even to you."
"Give me more proof," she said. Erolis shrugged. He still hadn't even stood up.
"Islana, I'm a traitor to his causes. All of them. I did declare that he's a moron and that Ocando, if He exists, is cruel and I won't worship Him. I deserted Ocando and Dysis with Him, in the same way that your King left Kaleal. But I'm still allowed to live a happy life and to even speak with Dysis when necessary. He kept away the Warriors who wanted to see me hanged for everything I said.
"I love a woman who worships Kaleal, and Dysis, like no other High Priest before him, lets the two of us stay together. I don't care for him. In fact, I honestly wouldn't mind if you strangled him. But I promise you, if he says he'll do something, he will. Make a deal with me—with him."
She gave him a long look. "Your wife's name is Nirra?" she asked.
He smiled. "Yes, yes it is."
"Do you like him or not?" she demanded. "You keep telling me both."
His smile didn't even waver. "I hate him."
"If he's as wonderful as you said, letting you and Nirra stay together, why?"
Erolis leant back in the couch and stared out the window for a beat. "Nirra and I were going to have a child. That was how... That was how my father found out about us, and how the whole thing... How it ended up on trial, how Dysis got to have me disowned and disgraced.
"I didn't care. I had Nirra, I was going to be a father. I loved her, I loved our child, I—a little more than a month after I was put on trial, we found out that... That we weren't going to have a child after all, that we might not ever be able to, and I..." He had to pause and catch his breath.
"Dysis had assumed that I—that I had been trying to be honorable for her, but that was all it was, and when we weren't going to have our child, I'd realize I didn't love her, that I'd regret all that had happened. He offered to open up communications with my father, if I'd take back everything I had said and leave Nirra.
"He thought I wasn't in love, Islana." He shook his head. "That's what I can't forgive him for. It was... It would be like someone suggesting that just because you've been captured, Kaleal didn't exist. That... Well, I can't forgive that. But he did save her life."
Islana pulled the chains tight for a second and Dysis gagged. She let them loosen a bit and he sucked in air, and now he was shaking. "Your wife must be an extraordinary woman."
Erolis nodded, still smiling despite the situation. "She's amazing. She's beautiful, and so smart, and... She's the best thing that ever happened to me."
Islana nodded. "He'll keep his word?"
"He will."
She looked at Cleran, who could only nod. "Two things. One—I don't care about how I die, but I want his word that he won't harm Erra Kelanister."
Erolis looked at Dysis, who managed to mouth the word "Yes."
"Very well. He says yes. Which leaves me curious; I thought you hated Erra Kelanister."
"I do. But the people love him. We need him for morale," she said.
"I suppose that makes sense. The second part?"
She leveled a long gaze at Cleran. "Beg for it." She smiled.
"Excuse me?" Erolis asked.
"Not you." She nodded towards Cleran. "Him."
Erolis glanced over at Cleran, who took a deep breath. "Please," he said. "Please, Islana. He's my brother, he means... He means everything to me."
"Funny, when Ocan made me beg, I had to kneel."
He didn't even pause before sinking to his knees. "Please. I'll—I know what you had to do, I know what Ocan made you say. I'll... If your Goddess does exist, I... I'll ask Her if you want. Anything." She shook her head no. "All right. Islana, please. Dysis is the only one who has ever given a damn if I'm alive or dead, he's a good man. Please let him go."
"You're pathetic," she said, smirking. "Remind him, he gave his word. Erra Kelanister's life."
Cleran mumbled a few words in his own language and Dysis mouthed "Yes," again. She paused, took a deep breath, unwrapped the chain from his neck and thrust him forward. He stumbled, gasping for breath and still shaking. As he started to gasp in breaths and collapse, Erolis and Cleran sprang to their feet. Erolis caught Dysis and helped him to the couch, while yelling at the top of his lungs for guards and Healers. Cleran grabbed his sword and advanced on Islana, but she didn't attempt to escape, merely stood and leant back against Dysis' desk.
The room flooded with people and Islana found herself at the center of a massive group of Warriors and guardsmen, and spirited roughly from the room. A few remained with Dysis and Erolis, a Healer, a guardsman and two Warriors. Dysis had caught his breath but was still pale and shaking as the Healer began to tend to him, but he waved the Healer away.
"I'm fine, I'm—Ocando bless, I'm fine. Just... startled," he said, looking around for Erolis but not seeing him.
"Holiness, please let me—"
"Erolis!" he yelled, managing to elude the Healer's grasp and stand. He could see Erolis now, on his way out the door. "Wait!"
Erolis pause and glanced back over his shoulder.
"Erolis, you... You saved my life."
Erolis nodded. "You could have had Nirra killed. Now we're even and I can hate you in peace."
"Did you mean everything you said? About... About being insulted?"
"I love Nirra, and nothing you could have done would have been more insulting. Now if you'll excuse me..."
"Wait, Erolis, I—you know that wasn't how I meant it. You were my friend, I wanted to help you, I... I didn't realize. I'm sorry."
"You should be."
"You saved my life," Dysis repeated.
"You made a promise to her. Keep your word. Don't make me a liar."
"I don't know if I can. I... Erolis, some things are too important. I have to do what's best for this Island."
Erolis gave him a look of disgust. "She was willing to trade her life for his, Dysis. She's willing to go through the torture chamber, to be publicly humiliated and brutally killed to save his life. You made a promise."
"I have to do what's right for this Island," he repeated.
"I hope Lady Alayrin will see it that way," Erolis said. "If you'll excuse me. Your Healer is going to have a fit if you don't let him examine you." He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
[CLOSING CREDITS]