by Iaz Grant
By the time she sang the last words of the epic, The Queen was already asleep and silent tears coursed down Zanna’s cheeks. She didn’t know who she was trying to gear up with the song of their history; she or The Queen? Maybe she wanted to remind them of the duties they both owe to Sheelah and to the Crown. She angrily dashed at the tears with the back of her hand and stood to leave the room.
She was at the door when she heard it.
“Dana.” The Queen whispered softly in her sleep.
Zanna could not hold the tears any longer, she opened the door and fled.
And cursed her mother all the way.
The Death
Zanna wiped the sweat off her face and looked into the night from her window. She kept on staring till her eyes watered. When the tears rolled down her cheeks, she didn't know. When she did, she just let them be; she didn't find out if it was a lack of sleep for three days straight or her unblinking stare into the night since the twilight came.
The day after tomorrow, she would be crowned Queen.
With an acute sense of trepidation and foreboding, she acknowledged that nothing could ever be done about her coronation, not if she wanted to disobey her grandmother and in the process, destroy Sheelah.
She almost smiled at that. She already disobeyed Queen Alora. The deed was not done yet but to her, it was as good as done. She knew she would pay for this dearly but she just couldn’t help the situation. An oath of blood from one such as her cannot be reversed. The House of Priya didn’t need any other curse. The Curse of the crown was more than enough.
Sighing for the umpteenth time that night, Zanna remembered that night in the Silver room.
The night when she knew her life would never be the same again.
She was sitting on the chair to the right of The Queen. Since the strange sickness that overtook The Queen, she was unusually gay and well today. On that day, she was sitting upright on her bed and even took a little portion of the soup she was given. The servants and nurses tending her were full of smiles and hopeful of her recovery. But Zanna knew better.
The stench of death was so strong and potent that day that Zanna feared even blinking her eyes. She watched over The Queen like a hawk as if she could take a hold of the menace and stop her Queen from dying. The thought of it sent her reeling in pain and she winced.
She caught the Queen looking at her and forced a smile. Not that the old bird would not know. She, however, kept the smile fixed on her face. It wouldn't do to cut short the mood of all just because she knew what really was going on.
Queen Alora was accepting death with a grand smile and buoyant spirit.
It wasn’t Zanna’s fault that she could not share the same feelings. She silently cursed her mother for her thoughtlessness again. If she were here, at least, Zanna would not have to handle everything as she was, she wouldn't have to be queen, she wouldn't have to grow up, she wouldn't have to despair so much of what the nearest future can bring. At the very least, The Queen would depart this world with her own daughter nearby.
Zanna loved and respected The Queen so much even though she didn’t know of her for the first few years of her life. The Queen was perfection and as far as she was concerned, her only fault was in her love for her daughter and her own mother, Dana. Zanna knew of The Queen’s love for her daughter and could only wonder yet again why her mother couldn’t return the affection.
Soon, the servants and attendees left the room, leaving The Queen and her granddaughter alone. The two sat for a while, only looking at each other. Zanna thought The Queen had never looked so beautiful. She smiled at her sadly and her smile was returned equally sadly.
“The song you sang to me three days ago”, she said out of the blue. “You left out a part.” She declared.
Zanna couldn’t think of what part she omitted. More so, The Queen herself had taught her the song during her first week at The Crystal Palace. She knew she sang it as she was taught.
"No, Gran. I sang it just as you thought me, remember?" she asked gently.
Queen Alora shook her head, a rueful smile on her face. How Zanna missed those smiles. She could almost believe Queen Alora was indeed getting better.
“No, it isn’t. I omitted a part while teaching you.”
Raising her brows impishly, she looked at The Queen, a question in her eyes.
“I am telling you now, aren’t I?” she huffed. She was always irritated by the mole that raised along with her eyebrows.
The pain of Zanna’s nostalgia was so great; this was how it used to be before that illness overtook The Queen.
“Do tell, then. Tell why you deliberately omitted from our precious lineage lines.” She said.
Just as suddenly, The Queen looked serious again. She sighed and moved to the edge of the bed so she could be closer to Zanna.
“No one else knows this, no one except your mother and me- When the Sidhes came from their realm, tired and battle worn, they had nothing to them. They were just a few and they feared that their race would soon perish. They found this land and called it Sheelah, meaning ‘sanctuary’ and even though it was empty and deserted, they thanked the Fates that they found it to do with as they pleased.” She started abruptly.
Wondering where this would end, but sensing the urgency in her queen’s tone, Zanna sat still and listened for all she was worth.
“The flag bearer was the sidhe that got all the survivors out of their world to find asylum here on earth. Her name was Zanna too.” She paused meaningfully.
Zanna’s curiosity was doubly aroused.
“Sheelah was barren and deserted but the Sidhes survived for a few months. Seeing her people dying, the warrior Zanna called on the Fates with all her might. And they answered. They spoke directly to her, asking her to state her request. Zanna wasted no time in telling them that she wanted Sheelah to prosper beyond measure, that she wanted the lands to be fertile and that she wanted her people to be saved. The Fates saw no harm in granting her wish but they despaired of who would rule. Prosperity, they said, needed a guide and custodian. Thinking only to save her people, Zanna volunteered herself to rule. The Fates granted all her requests with a warning.”
The Queen paused here and Zanna was afraid she wouldn’t continue, she wondered what happened next.
The Queen looked around for a while as if searching for something. She then sighed again and continued.
“Zanna promised to do all they asked and heed to their warning. And she did.”
"But Gran, you didn't say what the warnings were," She complained.
The Queen just smiled as if she expected the question already.
“They wanted only Zanna’s female line to continue ruling. They, therefore, decreed that the future queens would only give birth to girls, that is if their family continued to be pure. The sex of the female might change if their blood becomes tainted which was bound to spell doom for Sheelah if a male was born as no man can rule. Also, they placed a curse on the crown- all queens shall have their daughter with them or at least, nearby, while ruling else they both fall ill and eventually die.”
Zanna sat shock still. Now, she knew the source of the strange illness that wanted to snatch her Queen from her. She cursed her mother again. Why would she do this knowing all this? Did she just not care? Remembering that she would die too, she went sober, worrying what was happening to her right now.
“Your mother did not want to be queen; she wished to be a nun. She was always the scholarly type and took off 40 years ago in the middle of the night. I am surprised the curse took this long before it got to me, and I am sure." she continued.
“When she showed up ten years ago with you, I almost fainted with joy. I had despaired of the future of Sheelah with her gone. She told me that she met a sidhe but didn’t love him. She claimed she‘did’ it with him because she didn’t want Sheelah to perish because of her. She was going back to the monks and nuns and said both our lives were in the hand of The Fates but Sheelah would be saved because of you.
That was why she named you Zanna, after the first saviour of Sheelah. You were just twenty-five, so young and full of wisdom of the monks. You were a blessing to this old heart.”
The last part was said wistfully as if this compensated for the loss of her daughter and her imminent death. Zanna didn't know what to say to this. She wished she had heard this before it all started with Brent. How could she go on now?
“Now you know it all”, she said. “Now you know why.”
Zanna could only nod her head. This changes everything. She was right; her life would never remain the same.
Hours later, Zanna came back to The Queen. She had quietly walked out of the Silver Room when the Queen finished her story. She had roamed the grounds of the place for hours trying to clear her head.
Suddenly, she remembered that The Queen was dying and rushed back.
“I thought you left me to die alone.” The Queen accused as soon as she came in.
“How could I?” She shot back
She took the seat she vacated earlier and looked The Queen straight in the eye.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
The Queen sighed aloud. “Because I still hoped my daughter would come back one day. Then as the days passed, I wanted to leave you with your options a little longer. They were the only thing you seemed interested in, so I didn't want to send you off with such tremendous responsibility."
Zanna nodded solemnly. When she came to The Crystal Palace, she had thought she was in heaven. Everything she loved could be provided within a twinkle of an eye, so she delighted in making so many potions and concoctions that she learnt from the nunnery. In ignorance, she had even proceeded to start brewing a new potion from an entirely new experiment of hers for The Queen when her illness started. Little did she know.
“What do we do now, Gran?" she asked tears in her eyes again. "I am so confused."
Queen Alora looked at her granddaughter, this one whom she loved beyond measure. She regretted having to upheave her life this way but this was her destiny. She was born for this purpose.
“You will have to leave him, Z”, The Queen replied, deliberately using the short form she calls Zanna. She knew she was bright and would catch on.
“But I don’t know anything about ruling Sheelah. What would I do?” she cried out desperately.
“My child, look at me.” The Queen said firmly.
Zanna was drawn by the compelling face which was so much like hers. It was difficult to imagine that this powerful ruler would soon be gone. She had been on the throne for a thousand years and in her rule, Sheelah had thrived and boomed. Her people were happy. How on earth could she hope to achieve such success?
"There is nothing you cannot do if you set your mind to it. I have watched you make potions that our doctors here still wonder at. I have watched you nurse a wounded bear back to life. I have watched you fall in love with a mortal. You do the most incredible things, my dear. Now, all you need to do is one more- to wear the crown of Sheelah. And I must say, it would fit you mightily.”
Zanna smiled through her tears. Trust The Queen to have the right words. She suddenly felt an immense gratitude to her; for everything and now. In her she had found a mother; her own mother was too busy in the nunnery to notice the likes and penchants of her young daughter. Bringing her to the Crystal Palace was the best thing she did for her.
Remembering when The Queen started getting ill, she had written several letters to her mother to come home. All had gone unanswered. She soon took to cursing her, thinking her unfeeling and ungrateful to the woman who gave her life, especially hearing from the servants how The Queen had doted on her before she left. How immersed she was in her blissful ignorance.
Looking at the Queen now, she knew better. She only hoped she could bear this mantle.
“How would I know? How did you know that your subjects are happy? How would I know if my tenure is progressing? How did you know?”
As The Queen made to open her mouth, her body became as stiff as a stone. She couldn’t move and her eyes were dilating vigorously. Zanna immediately noticed that the stench that had persisted for the days The Queen was bedridden had increased a thousand fold.
Panicking for the first time, she knew it was time. She quickly moved over to the bed and rested her on the bed, ensuring to make her most comfortable. She drew the soft blanket to her cheeks and held her hand under the sheets. She hoped death went easy on her. She prayed that there would be no pain.
The Queen was still looking into Zanna’s eyes with all her love for granddaughter expressed in them. Suddenly, her mouth moved.
“The success of a ruler can easily be gleaned on the faces of her subjects.”
She closed her eyes gently and breathed her last. It was as if she didn’t want that particular question to go unanswered and had answered with her very last words. If Zanna did not know better, she would have thought her queen slept. She was so serene in her death that Zanna felt an immediate tranquility wash over her. Now, The Queen was in a better place; her rule was over in Sheelah.
And hers was about to begin.
Zanna slumped on the bed and cried silently.
It was later that same night that Zanna sat at her window, staring into the night. She had been working for hours, calling on the servants to prepare The Queen for the funeral rites tomorrow. Sending messages to members of The Queen's court to inform them of their queen's demise; and finally, when she found herself alone, she had taken a long walk in the more quiet part of the palace. She hadn't realized how far she walked until she turned to go back when twilight fell. When she returned, she realized she was sweating slightly.
She wished with all her heart that she could obey her queen but she couldn’t; she loved Brent too much. He had often expressed his doubt over her faithfulness to him; she was royalty and immortal, he was neither, she had sworn the irreversible oath to make the doubts stop. The oath would only be neutralized if the betrayer died. And she couldn’t afford to die, Sheelah needed her. So, she had no choice. She only hoped her love for Brent and his for her would see them through.
Making up her mind, she stood abruptly and gathered her shawl. She had a place to visit before the funeral rites tomorrow. She took something from the shelf and left the room. She should take someone with her, she thought tiredly. The palace guards had been watching her like a mother hen after The Queen died, maybe they were afraid she would slump and die too. She knew the whole land would not rest easy until she was crowned queen for them all to see.
Whatever the case, the coronation is not until two days. Tonight, however, cannot wait.
The Mortal
Brent Sanders blew off the candle in his room. He wondered why the fireflies were not out tonight. Come to think of it, the whole of Sheelah was a little bit too silent for comfort tonight. Though he had not gone out all day, he knew the sounds of Sheelah like he knew his own name. He had after all been born and bred here.
Today, he didn’t know how he knew, felt like it held the key to something important. He hadn’t even stepped out his door for fear of what would happen if he did. He smiled mockingly at himself for that now. Maybe associating with a sidhe was starting to rub off on him. He was now starting to be as superstitious as his love. So he had spent all day indoors worrying about Zanna and The Queen. He wondered if The Queen was getting better and fretted about Zanna; was she eating well, has she lost weight, how fare she?
