Irannika Yasin

They asked of the Toyogarov Satrap: what was his downfall? Where did he go? Why did he take off into the Taiga one night, with torn clothes and incoherent screeches?

The forest sang, in reply, the song of the hill country: the Mesogriadines, where a new Amatodate over the ashes of the old was rising, as through the centuries —

Young Veronica stared down the prince's cannons
Then on a flaming chariot to heaven she soared
A rough-woven sash became her wedding garment
But her palace-rags she leaves for Jaromil

With his army and cannons perched on the hilltops overlooking the monastery, Jaromil Toyogarov had pleaded with Sister Irannika to leave the people of Abbé Musa and to return to the palace, once again, as queen. He might even forgive her defection to the Sultan — everyone, as a matter of course, believed that the religious of Amatodate secretly favored the Muslims — and to guide her return to the true faith. He wept, he cried out, he let the tears course down his face. "My love, my betrothed!"

Irannika, who watched him from the ramparts, did not respond. For the onlooker it did not seem apparent that she was moved by the prince's emotional affect, or if she heard at all what he had said. We found out later from Sister Olivia, who had served her in the courts of Toyogarov, that Sister Irannika was likely to be in a state of panic. Fear dominated the couple's betrothal, for Jaromil was a vile man, cursed to an irascible temper, who lashed his subjects with the slightest provocation. The bride herself had no shortage of anger directed at her from the prince.

"Leave this evil man, he will be your death," the servant Olivia had suggested, one day.

"Where can we go? Who will protect us in this lawless land?" Irannika was uncertain.

"Do you remember your aunt, Ershebet? She was close to death, and given one month to live. She gave the month in service to the poor and the sick taking sanctuary in Amatodate, and passed away five years after. Whoever was watching over her will watch over us as well!" Then, putting on her snowshoes, she said, "He may only have hurt you with words now, but he will do to you all that he has done to me before, now that I am gone."

And so, Princess Irannika Yasin and her servant Olivia Hutanonoyong went out, plowing into the snow, and made for Amatodate. For young Irannika was fond of her late aunt, and longed to follow in her footsteps.

Prince Toyogarov was dismayed by the lack of response from his bride. A wave of rage hit him like a wall, and he tasted blood in his breath. Irannika could see the tenderness in his eyes disappear, turning into resentment, shame, and then rage. Then suddenly, raising his left hand, he ordered the cannons to fire.

The last thoughts of Irannika Sikanderovna Yasin were filled with fear. Curiously, and contrary to her own expectations at the time, the fearfulness was not at the thought of Jaromil, nor was it the prospect of her own imminent death. A random seed of a thought had just taken from in her mind about the elderly Anita, who had stayed behind in the building, and refused to evacuate. Anita-neni will die, far from everyone, alone, if I do not go now.

The thought of it filled Irannika with dread. She broke free of her panic-induced torpor, tore her gaze away from the cannons, and made a dash towards the stairwell, heading straight for the dormitory where Old Anita stayed.

We could see all this happening from across the lake. We watched as the buildings of the monastery collapsed into a cloud of chipped wood and ash. With it went our Sister Irannika, Old Anita Kachituvan, and Brother Arkadius Wijaya. May they rest in peace.

The rumors came out of the Christian army that the Toyogarov Satrap's true motivations of finding his bride at Amatodate was no secret, despite a carefully-crafted pretext by his general that the monastery had housed injured soldiers in service to the Sultan. The prince reacted to his own decision with immediate regret, and rallied his men to a search for Irannika's body as soon as the dust had settled on the rubble. They searched for one week, they searched for two — they turned over every stone and wooden beam, but all it turned out was a blue robe of softest silk, finely embroidered; the one she wore on the day of their betrothal.

"Our daughter Irannika has gone the way of Elias Nabi," rejoiced the survivors of Amatodate upon hearing the news.

Ainu Robe. Collection of: Los Angeles County Museum of Art [source]