Episode 57 – Albion Transcript

PRAGMA NARRATION: 

From the moment I open my eyes, I know it is going to be a rough day. Another one of my down days. One of the really down days, when I just need to get away from everyone for a while. My mother, even though she is the queen of the realm, and technically I am a subject of Namaste and therefore a subject of hers, understands what I’ve gone through. She gave birth to me. She knows me; she understands my moods, even at her advanced age. She may be frail and need help going from room to room, but her mind is still there in its entirety. Not a single one of her advisers can sneak anything by her. Not that they try, but every once in a while they will make an attempt. And fail. It can be quite amusing if you are in attendance and get to watch. 

But back to me and my current not so good mental state. I have my duties as the daughter of the queen; everyday duties as I am in training and preparation to take the throne once she passes or perhaps abdicates. ThoughI am almost fully convinced she will simply stop breathing one day, as she sits on her throne, dealing with her subjects and controlling the law and order within her realm. Her heart will just stop and that will be that. 

It only takes a single message via my favorite attendee, Nessie, to my mother, and I am free to do as I please for the day. She knows. I know. I believe everyone in the palace must know by now.

[SHORT PAUSE] 

They know my heart is broken. Torn asunder. When I lost her. When . . . I lost my Thyra. The full moon of Gammá is almost upon us once more, and it was right before the full moon of Etá when Thýra left Albion. For good? For ever? I know not. I surely hope not. No! I have to believe it not to be so. She will return to me one day. And we will be reunited. Finally. Oh, how my heart will sing and my eyes will run when that day comes. 

Thýra was taken. That is what I have been told and what I now believe. It is what the one witness who saw it happen told me. Thýra was taken through a portal; an opening in reality. I read the truth in the witness’s eyes as she told me. She didn’t see who it was, but she saw what happened. Saw that Thýra was taken and then the rupture closed up like it had never been. I immediately began to research, once again with the invaluable help of Nessie, and we found a few instances of something like this occurring, but they took place three hundred, and over a thousand years ago, respectively. I cannot put my complete and full belief in those ancient entries. But it is better than knowing nothing. It . . . it gives me hope. It has happened before; it has happened recently; and eventually it will happen again. 

I have hope. But that does not mean that these days where I feel I will remain alone for the rest of my life get any easier. 

So today I am spending my time alone. To think and wonder. 

[SOUNDS OF A BOAT, WATER, ROPES, A SAIL BEING RAISED] PRAGMA NARRATION: 

The waters have always been a refuge for me. My place of escape, but also of rest and relaxation. A place that always brings me calm. I have had this wee sailing vessel since I was a child. My father taught me to sail and nowI feel just as at home on the waters as I do walking the marbled floors of the palace. And on a day like today, I need escape more than ever. 

I head out into the open waters, away from my home, with no particular direction in mind. Naturally, when you are sailing, there are only so many directions one can go as the prevailing wind allows. But after a short while, I pull on the tiller and alter course, heading for a small island I have visited on occasion. It is uninhabited by Albions, but lush with flora and fauna. In many ways it is an extension of the quiet, calm waters: a place of dry land and solitude where one can reflect and contemplate. 

Except today things are different. 

I can see someone standing on the shore of the island looking right at me. She is dressed in most unique clothing; I’ve never seen material like this before. The colors are all different. Wrong in some way. One might even say alien. 

But I am not about to let this intruder significantly alter my day. I am also as curious as the proverbial seabat. 

[CRUNCH OF BOAT HULL BEING PULLED UP ON A GRAVEL BEACH] MONICA: 

I’m sorry, is this your island? 

PRAGMA: 

In a way . . . I suppose. It belongs to the realm of Namaste, and my mother is queen of this realm. 

MONICA: 

Dang! I’m in the presence of royalty. Talking with a real life princess. I’m honored, your majesty. 

PRAGMA: 

I am unfamiliar with that last word, and detest the word princess. My role in serving as the daughter of the queen is far greater than that. MONICA: 

Shit, I’m sorry. I should really watch what I say, since I’m in a whole new place again and all that. 

PRAGMA: 

You are a visitor here? I have traveled the many ends of the realmin my years and seen many. But not you. I have also frequented this island on a number of occasions. You are new here. 

MONICA: 

You got me. I’m . . . from another place. Far, far away. Really fucking far. Different time too.

PRAGMA: 

And how did you reach Albion, and by turn, Namaste, if you are from somewhere so distant? 

MONICA: 

Good question. Let’s just say I come from a place where there are many doors that take you to anywhere and anywhen. Well, I’ve been traveling through those doors, from one to another, looking for someone. And nowI’ve ended up here. In Albion I believe you said? 

PRAGMA: 

Yes. The world of Albion. 

MONICA: 

And I can see you have two moons. That’s pretty dope. Tatooine style, only lunar and not solar. 

PRAGMA: 

So far I have yet to comprehend any of your references. 

MONICA: 

That’s okay. Don’t feel bad. I get that a lot. 

PRAGMA: 

The person you are looking for? You must care deeply for him. To travel so far. Do you feel you are getting closer? 

MONICA: 

To be honest, I don’t have a fucking clue. But yes. He is . . . my love. My heart. And I very much want to find him. 

PRAGMA: 

I too know of the pain you speak. The pain of loss. I too lost my heart. When she was taken from this world. Not too long ago. And each day is agony for me. 

MONICA: 

Damn. I’m so sorry. I’d say it gets easier, but it hasn’t yet for me. PRAGMA: 

Nor I. However, I do find it interesting, perhaps even serendipitous, that you appear to have a similar mode of travel as that through which my Thýra was taken. 

MONICA: 

Thýra? That’s a beautiful name. She could open doors like I can? PRAGMA: 

I know not. But she was taken through a door. Against her will. And she is one of the Circe. 

MONICA: 

The Circe? 

PRAGMA: 

They are the sorceresses of this world, who wield much power, but always for good. 

MONICA:

[SAID SLOWLY:] 

Sorceress? 

[NORMAL PACE, SERIOUS:] 

What color are her eyes? 

PRAGMA: 

What a strange question to ask . . . 

MONICA: 

It’s important. 

PRAGMA: 

A dark violet. 

MONICA: 

Just violet? What about the left eye? 

PRAGMA: 

[ALSO SERIOUS:] 

Her left eye . . . her left eye possesses a speck of silver; a sparkle. MONICA: 

[EXCITED:] 

Yes! It does. You’re fucking right. That’s her! 

PRAGMA: 

[VERY EXCITED;} 

What on Albion do you mean? 

MONICA:

She is the one we rescued. We didn’t know who she was. She was weak and broken and frail, but alive. 

PRAGMA: 

Forsooth?! 

MONICA: 

She’d been trapped for a really long fucking time. Her power almost spent. But I asked . . . no, [SADLY] I made her open a door for me to get through. To find Jake. 

PRAGMA: 

To find your love. I . . . as much as it pains me, I understand. But she is well and alive? 

MONICA: 

I don’t know how well she is, but she is very much alive. 

PRAGMA: 

[RELIEF:] 

Oh, thank you. This brings me such joy. My hope is now everlasting. One day she will return to Albion. To my arms. 

MONICA: 

And if . . . no, when I find Jake, and when I make it back to the OstiumNetwork, I will do everything within my power to get her back to you. I promise. PRAGMA: 

[EMOTIONAL , SOMEWHAT GIDDY:]

Oh, you are too kind and wonderful. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Would . . . would it be possible to give you something? A trinket to take with you? To give to her when you meet again? 

MONICA: 

Hell yes! Of course. Actually, I need to bring something back with me fromAlbion. 

PRAGMA: 

Then I give you this. 

[SOUNDS OF HANDING OVER ITEM] 

MONICA: 

A ring? It’s beautiful. Special. Must mean a lot of you. 

PRAGMA: 

Thýra gave it to me on our first anniversary. 

MONICA: 

You guys are married? That’s wonderful! 

PRAGMA: 

We are wedded, yes. But this was for a . . . different kind of anniversary. But just as meaningful. 

MONICA: 

Okay. Gotcha. Thank you. I will keep it safe and give it to her as soon as we meet again. I vow it. 

PRAGMA:

Thank you. Thank you so much. She will know where it came from and it will give her hope, just as you have given me the same. 

MONICA: 

Looks like I came to just the right place. It was . . . wonderful meeting you and maybe, hopefully we will meet again one day? With you and Thýra. PRAGMA: 

I would like that very much. Safe travels. 

MONICA: 

Thank you. And . . . stay safe. So when she comes back to Albion you’ll be right here waiting for her. 

PRAGMA: 

Oh, I most certainly will. 

[DOOR OPENING, CLOSING] 

[BREAK] 

PRAGMA NARRATION: 

When she is gone I feel a momentary loss, but this is soon overcome by the bursting sense of hope within me. What a fortuitous meeting to have happen to me on this day of all days. I will eagerly now return to the palace and my duties, my faith restored in what will one day come to pass. In time.