The Amelia Project - Episode 74 - Prison of Glass (1593)

Episode Date: July 5, 2024

“Murano is filled with secrets…” Arthur and Kozlowski row across the Venice lagoon by torchlight, in search of secret island... Don't want to wait for the next episode? Consider becoming a patron or subscribing on Apple Podcasts to get early access, listen without ads, and get bonus episodes! The Amelia Project is created by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager and is a production of Imploding Fictions. This episode featured Alan Burgon as The Interviewer, Hemi Yeroham as Kozlowski, Alexander Ananasso as Adriano and Julia C. Thorne as Alvina.  The episode was written and edited by Philip Thorne with story editing by Oystein Brager, direction by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager, music and sound design by Adam Raymonda, production assistance by Maty Parzival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. Website: https://ameliapodcast.com/ Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/season-5 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Donations: https://ameliapodcast.com/support Merch: https://www.teepublic.com/stores/the-amelia-project?ref_id=6148 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast X: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/theameliaproject.bsky.social Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Come now, kid. Rowing across the lagoon by torchlight. Isn't it exciting? And once the torch burns down? Well, then we will have the stars to guide us. Always the romantic. You know. You know.

What? Our search for stories. Yes? Does lead us to the strangest places. Does it not? Indeed. Oh, remember that decrepit, rat-infested hellhole? What was the name

of that town again? Hamlin. Hamlin, yes. Oh, or that party in Athens where we were drenched in wine and pummeled with a dozen fake penises. You mean peni? No, penis. Look, we've had this conversation before. Penises. Arthur, it's peni.

I really don't think it is. Well, that was a long time ago. Yes. And now here we are. Here we are. Rowing across a lagoon in a gondola by torchlight. Wearing some very fetching Venetian masks, I might add. In search of some island. Oh, there.

Where? I think I see it. I don't. Where? There, look. But we only left Venice ten minutes ago. The instructions said we would have to row north for close to half an hour. Well, that's what you get for being such a strong rower. Well, thank you, but I see the island and I do not think that is it.

Look, it is dark and no signs of habitation. Well, maybe our client is using it as a hideout. Maybe. Let us see. So here we are. Yes. Oh, well, this place is as still as death. No sign of a client.

Hmm. Should we explore? Oh, no. In the morning, please. We should get some sleep. Sleep? What, on the beach? It would not be the first time. Oh yes, I miss our little spot by the sea. The crackling fire, the lapping waves, telling stories under the stars. But in Scotland we had bracken to make our beds.

It was a beach of pebbles. Here we have soft sand. A fine place to lie one's head. Look. Is it not fascinating? What? Sand. Oh, sand. Sand is time. What do you mean? Here.

Take some here. All right. Hold it tight. Yes, I am. Tighter. But I can't hold it any tighter. My hands are squeezing together as hard as they can. And yet, it escapes your grasp, slips through your fingers, finds cracks through which to flow.

Eventually, there will be nothing left. Sand and time. Arthur, they never stop flowing. Yes, all right. But we have a beach. Our sand is unlimited. Arthur. What? Arthur. What? Kid, what is it? You're scaring me.

Arthur, look at it. Look at what? The sand in your hand. I'm looking. What is it? You're scaring me. Arthur, look at it. Look at what? The sand in your hand. I'm looking. What about it? It is black. What? No, it's not. It just looks that way because it's night time. Bring your hand closer to the torch. This is ridiculous. Well, blow me like a crumhorn.

It is black. We must leave. Now. What? Why? At once. But it's... Well, blow me like a crumb horn. It is black. We must leave. Now! What? Why? At once! But, but it's... It's to the gondola now! Yes, all right, all right.

What is it? Did you see someone on the beach? What? Kid, what just happened? That was Poveglia. Poveglia? Eighteen years ago, the Black Death tore through Venice, sending over a third of its citizens to an early grave victims of the plague were sent to Poveglia and left there to die how do you notice huh you know me I fascinated by the bubonic of course how could I

forget by 1578 the island contained hundreds of unburied corpses rotting in the sun. The smell carried over to Venice, so Venetians set fire to the island, incinerating all the bodies. Today, Poveglia's soil consists mostly of cremated humans. So the sand in our hands was... You're right. That was a mistake. Let's row back to Venice. So we are abandoning the mission. Maybe it is for the best. The regulars at the Lusty Maiden will be very disappointed.

What? Every Friday, I regale the regulars with my newest stories. I'm not sure you should be telling our stories at the Lusty Maiden. Oh, come. Stories must be told. You know that, kid. I will always be a storyteller at heart.

We must not draw attention. If we don't tell our stories, what's the point? Why are we collecting them? Maybe one day we will find a worthy listener. It would be nice to tell our stories properly, from beginning to end. Or end to beginning. That would be much more amusing, don't you think? Do you even remember the beginning? Of course. You were hypnotizing chicken. Chicken day!

Look! Is that another island? Yes. Yes! Lights! Oh, an inhabited island! Good! The torch is about to go out. I will row fast. The winds have subsided. The water is as still as glass. We should reach it in no time. At last. Terra firma.

Yes, let me see here. The soil is not black as death. Thank goodness for that. Though there is a strange smell. Oh, yes. What is that? Are you the confraternity of the phoenix? Are we the... Ah, yes, what is that? Are you la confraternita della Fenice? Are we the... Ah, yes, yes, that's us. You are... Adriano, yes? Adriano Vianello, si. Why are you dressed as plague doctors?

Plague doctors? The masks, the long beaks. Oh, we thought they were carnival masks. They are so discurious to visiting merchants, but to us there is nothing jolly about them. The long beaks. Oh, we thought they were carnival masks. They are sold as curious to visiting merchants. But to us, there is nothing jolly about them. You should take them off. We will. Right. My nose is a shame.

Much better. I liked it. Anyway, Adriano, you have a story for us. I have a what for you? A story, yes. We've come all the way from London for your story. Of course. I thought you help people disappear. We do. In return for a story.

I have a story for you. Oh, goody. Well, we will attend to business in the morning. Is there anywhere on this island we can pass the night? Si, si. Seguitemi. Right. Benvenuti a Murano.

Welcome to Murano. A lot of sand. ¶¶ © transcript Emily Beynon The Amelia Project, created by Philip Thorne and Øystein Ulsbeck-Braga, with music and sound direction by Frederik Baden and sound design by Adam Raimonda. Episode 74. Prison of Glass. 1593. Good morning, Kit. Where are we? The island of Marana. No, I mean this room.

Extraordinary. I have never seen such beautiful mirrors. Mirrors? I don't know where to look. Everywhere I see my silly face. You think your face is silly? Look at it. Your face is very special to me. Oh, I didn't mean it like...

I took great care with it. I just don't like seeing myself in mirrors. Why not? Look at yourself, Arthur. Hold your gaze. You don't think I've aged? What? I've aged, haven't I?

Of course you have aged, Arthur. You are 2,340 years old. There is something on your mind. Yes. What is it? The story of the mirror and the soil. I do not think I know that story. It was told to me by a Persian poet. Will you recount it?

The soil says to the mirror, I envy you. Whoever looks at you sees himself, but the one who looks at me sees only me. The mirror responds, oh soil, do you not know that I show a person how they look today, but you, you show them their future. The soil responds, oh mirror, it is obvious you speak to calm me. But answer, do those who look at you ever look at me? The mirror responds with a bitter smile. Do not worry, Mother Soil. Those who no longer have the face to look at me will always turn to look at you. I think I understand.

You are rattled by what we saw last night. I'm sorry. Let's go find Adriano. Look at yourself a few moments more. Why? You must learn to look yourself in the eye, Arthur. Come on. Isn't that... What's the word?

Vain? Every day I spend some time with my own reflection. It helps me stay present. Very well. Adriano! Signore. We were admiring your mirrors. Tell me, where did you purchase them?

I did not. Oh, you mean you're a thief. Is that why you need our help? I am no thief. Oh. I am a craftsman. You mean you made these mirrors yourself? We are a family of glassblowers. How fascinating.

Would you like to see the fornace? Excuse me? It is where we pour, mold, blow, and press the glass. Ah, we would be very interested to see that. Yes. Bene. Seguitemi, signore. Ah.

Right. Oh, this is exciting. And here we are. Quite the descent. Nah. La Fornace. Oh, it's very hot down here. Oh, my. Oh, look at all these tongs and pliers and I don't even know what that thing is.

This room looks more like a torture chamber than a workshop. Are you sure we're not in Dante's Inferno? What's that? My Canada Sophia. A blow crucible is filled with molten crystal I did the blowpipe inside and gather some like this here a bowl of liquid glass. Oh my. Ah, what a strange substance. Is it not? You will watch it transform from hot red to honey gold to crystal white.

So valuable, yet we know it will become so brittle. Yes, the glass must be kept in constant motion. We will hold it over the furnace to maintain the temperature, and then we breathe life into it. Incredible, how it inflates. Like a soap bubble. Watch out, signore. I will transfer the glass to the table.

Oh, my. Now we let it cool. You are an artist, Adriano. Yes, and so quick. In a matter of mere seconds, you have transformed a blob of what looked like hot syrup into... Into... What is that? Into... Do you like it?

Oh, an hourglass. Nowadays we specialize in chandeliers. But my grandfather, Edoardo Vianello, made hourglasses. Glass is sand, and... Sand is time. Exactly. Glass, sand, time. Ha! My grandfather saw great beauty in that. I have always been fascinated by our classes. The upper bulb is our past, into which we pour our stories. The lower bulb is our future, ready to be filled.

The opening is our present, through which the sand all too swiftly falls. And eventually the sands of time run out. And then we rotate the glass and start again. That would be nice. Yes. What is your dilemma, Adriano? Why do you need to disappear? Oh, who's that? Mi padre. My father. Veloci.

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With Cate Blanchett, Kevin Hart, Jack Black, Ariana Greenblatt, and Jamie Lee Curtis. Wow, you never see that. Borderlands. Have you always lived on Murano? Yes, I was born here. Oh, lovely. Well, if your workshop was Dante's Inferno, then this is paradise. Ah, indeed.

Look, what is that beautiful church? Oh, that's Santa Maria e San Donato. There is a fascinating story behind it. Oh, really? Yes. Behind the altar there are huge bones. Oh, like yours, kid. The bones of a dragon slain by Saint Donatus of Euroea. A dragon? Really?

What is that smell? Oh, yes. Is that the dragon? No, it's the smell of 63 furnaces melting down sand, soda ash and limestone. Oh, you mean you're not the only glassblower on Murano? Glass is the Venetian Republic's most valuable treasure. More precious than gold. Than saffron, even. But why so many glassblers here, on this small island? Well, in

1291, the Dodger ordered all furnaces be moved to Murano. Why? Why do you think? Um, fire hazard. That was the pretext. But the real reason was?

Other countries want to steal our techniques and break the monopoly. On an island, it is easier to keep secrets. I see. An island of glassblowers. And do you like living here? Well, the Dodger takes excellent care of us. His personal architetto visits every year for embellishments and restorations. Our houses are comfortable, our boats are solid. And here on Murano we are not bound by the public's laws. We may drink until the early hours of the morning. We may carry swords.

Oh, drinking swords. Well, that sounds like a dangerous combination. Don't people get stabbed? Yes, but we are also immune to prosecution. Well, you have many privileges. The greatest privilege is that our daughters can marry into the noblest of Venetian families. Adriano, I applaud your doge. Adriano, I applaud your doge. Craftspeople are the lifeblood of any nation, yet so often they are treated like dirt. I am glad here in the Republic of Venice that is different. Are you really immune to all Venetian laws? There is only one law that applies to us. That law, however, is enforced by penalty of death. Oh.

And what is that? We may not leave the island. What? What? We are allowed to go to Venice on business, allowed to go fishing, but we may not venture further than Pellestrina or the Lido. And if you do? The Council of Ten.

Chispia. They have their eyes on us. The Council of Ten? What is that? Yes, the state's spy chiefs. If a glassblower is caught escaping Murano, they are publicly executed on the Piazzetta. And if they are not caught on the Piazzetta. And if they are not caught,

their entire family is killed as a warning. So you're telling us that this charming island with its bright-colored houses and sparkling canals, this paradise, is in fact a... A prison. It is a beautiful prison.

A prison without bars. But an invisible barrier separates us from the world beyond the lagoon. We live in a prison of glass. A prison of glass? Oh, I like that. A secret island hidden from the world. Murano is filled with secrets. Secrets? What do you mean? Every glassblower has their secrets.

You mean secret ingredients? Ingredients, recipes, techniques. So every glassblower here on Murano makes a different kind of glass. Yes. Cristallo, lattimo, millefiori, aventurina. Aventurina? Doesn't that mean coincidence? Allaventura means by chance, yes.

Right. The discovery of this technique, like so many of the best glass recipes, happened by chance. Giovanni d'Arduin accidentally dropped some metallo, metal shavings, into the glass mixture. It created a sublime effect, like a translucent stone filled with guild stars. And what is your secret? Prego. What makes your glass special? Oh, kid, come on. He won't just tell us.

It's a secret. I will. What? You will? There you are. Yes. It is why I need your help. Oh, how very curious. Adriano, you seem nervous. Let us walk to the end of the pier.

But there's nobody here. Ve l'ho detto. The council has ears everywhere. Bene. Non c'è nessuno qui. Va bene. Allora. Kelp. Excuse So... Kelp.

Excuse me? Kelp. Gesundheit. Beg your pardon? The secret ingredient. Kelp. What is kelp? It is a type of algae, is it not?

Oh, that's right. My brothers and I take out the boat, dive, and return with sackfuls of kelp. We lay it on the beach, and when it's dry, set fire to it. Ha! Kelp ash! Most glassmakers use the ash of terrestrial plants, but my great-grandfather experimented with seaweed and found that kelp ash brings down melting temperatures. This makes our glass highly malleable.

It has been the Vianello secret for three generations. This is very fascinating. But how does it warrant the desire to disappear? Ah, ahora te arrivo. I'm getting there. We used to be a small business. We made hourglasses. Specifically marine sunglasses. About 80 a year.

Then came the craze for mirrors. Everyone wanted Venetian mirrors. And while Venini and Toso mirrors were the most popular, business trickled down to every glassblower on Murano. But it was with candelabri, chandeliers, that our fortunes really changed.

Our moulding techniques, twisting the chandeliers' arms into arabesques of leaves, flowers and fruits, became known as chocca. Chocca, yes. Philip II of Spain bought a chocca chandelier, and soon nobles throughout the world wanted one. We were in demand. Our furnaces burned through the night, and still we could not keep up.

We used to dry our kelp in a secluded cove on the south side of the island, you see, and this was fine while our business was small. But now we needed more space. Kelp needs to be dried in the air, you see, to give the ashes the right texture. But where in Murano could we dry large amounts of kelp without revealing our secret to other glassblowers? So what did you do? Do you see that island over there? You mean...

Poveglia? You know it? We went there last night. Yes. Really? Venetians avoid it like the plague. Like the plague. Yes.

We know its history. You went to Poveglia to dry your kelp? A large, empty space with no prying eyes. Just a short boat ride away from Murano. Please, continue your story. Yes. When the bells of Santa Maria e San Donato struck midnight, my father, brothers and I rowed to Poveglia and strewed

the kelp over the large empty beach. Two weeks later we returned, rowing through the night by torchlight. The kelp was now brittle and crisp. My father threw his torch into the kelp and it caught fire. When the flames had extinguished, we gathered the ashes and rode back home. The Barbaros, an ancient Venetian family, had just ordered a giant chandelier for Palazzo Dario. A chandelier that can hold 150 candles. I set to work. I mixed the kelp ash with sand and limestone, melted it down, then took my blowpipe and dipped it into the molten crystal.

Only this time, the glass did not behave. What do you mean? It did not respond to my breath. How so? The liquid glass inflated, stretched, curved and twisted, but I was not the one guiding it what? I watched in amazement I couldn't believe

what I was seeing the shapes materialized at the end of my blowpipe the glass it seemed to have a will of its own it was contorting itself into the strangest of forms. What kind of forms?

Beautiful. Terrifying. Heartbreaking. Heartbreaking? It is hard to describe. Try, please. Usually, the molten glass hardens

into a state of lifeless solidity. But here, even after it cooled and hardened, it retained a fiery passion. It did not feel like looking at cold matter. So what did it feel like? Like emotions set in glass. Laughter, tears, anger, all set in glass. How strange. And the same thing happened the day after, and the day after that.

And my father and brothers had the same experience. This was no ordinary glass. Something had possessed it. And what's that? What had possessed it? What had possessed it? What had possessed it? Poviglia, you know what happened there. It is where plague victims were isolated and left to die. After the plague ended, Venetians set fire to the island. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. You think...

Esatto. Along with the kelp ash, we gathered another type of ash. Human ash. Good Lord. You trapped their ashes inside the glass. It is the ash of people who were deported and shunned. They were not given a burial, not laid to rest. So your glass is haunted.

Haunted? We have done something terrible. We have imprisoned their souls. Adriano, maybe there is a different way of looking at it. What do you mean? The tragic souls of Poveglia, you have given them a voice.

A voice? But... You have found a way for the spiritual world to become physical. The souls inside the glass, you have not trapped them, you have liberated them. You have given them the gift of expression. Through your glass, they can laugh, cry, sing, scream. Yes. The spirits are using the glass to express themselves. Is that not

a wonderful thing? Well, no. Why not? Because... Because... What? Because... Because... What? Because they want revenge. Revenge? They were banished and burned, and now they want revenge.

How do you know this? This is where my story becomes unpleasant. Thanks for supporting the Fable & Folly Network. Here's another show we know you'll love. All right, get ready. We're going to try and describe our whole show in 60 seconds. Sean, are you ready? Well, I have some questions, I think.

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A podcast for best friends by best friends. Where am I? Welcome to Desert Skies, traveler. Your journey through the physical plane has come to an end. I am the attendant. My colleague here is the mechanic. Yo. This is your last stop on your way to the great beyond.

It's our job to make sure you're prepared for the ride. Now, before hitting the road, we have an impressive selection of over 34 varieties of microwavable burritos. Um, what's going on? There's gotta be a better afterlife than this. I mean, come on! Uh, that's offensive. Something seems to be wrong with me. You left something major undone.

I have a life outside of this gas station, you know. You quite literally do not. Any hobbies? Nope. Ever travel? Nope. Love interests? Are you kidding? Oh my god.

You're like the human version of a plain bagel. Cash register. How can I help you, attendant? Play some music? You got it. It's kind of funny, though. What I needed wasn't back there. It was here, waiting for me.

I wonder what it feels like, Mac, to miss the physical plane, the people you left behind. You know, I had a wife who died three years ago. Wish I could go back. No, you don't need to go back. You just need to be here. And a new traveler approaches.

Ready, team? Ready. Good. Let's do this. Find Desert Skies wherever you listen to podcasts. Go on. Vincenzo Barbaro came to see how his chandelier was progressing. He brought his young daughter. She was entranced by the glass. My father took a blob of molten crystal and formed a little star for her.

She clutched it in her tiny fist, kept it there all day, went to bed with it. The next morning, Vincenzo and Marietta Barbaro found their daughter's bed soaked in blood. Oh, she had cut herself. Oh no. The parents were too late. She had bled to death. Oh, what a terrible story. Indeed, yes, but what makes you think the glass had malign intent? I mean, surely it could have been an accident. No, no, no, no. A few days later, Agustin Gradenigo, commander of the Venetian navy, commissioned us to make a glass dagger for him. He proceeded to stab 15 men in the tavern and then plunged it deep into his heart. Oh, another terrible story.

I mean, drunken brawls are very common. Gradenigo led our navy to Constantinopoli. He kept his wits when our fleet was besieged by the Mughals. He is a level-headed man. This was not Gradenigo's doing. So you believe the glass is intentionally killing people? Si, and I believe this is only the beginning. Then you must stop offering these spirits shelter. You must stop using Poveglia ashes.

I have tried to explain this to my father, but he is hypnotized by the glass. And your brothers? They are equally enthralled. You said you believe this is just the beginning. What do you mean? We finish the chandelier for the barbaros next week

and install it in Palazzo Dario. And what do you think will happen then? I don't know, but the star and dagger are mere trinkets. If they can cause such distraction, just imagine what a giant chandelier with 150 candles can do. Hmm, I see your point. And it won't stop there.

We have orders from every wealthy household in Venice. Poveglia's curse will spread through the city and my family will be responsible for death and destruction everywhere. I want no part in this. I want to leave Murano. But no glassblower leaves Murano. At least not alive. Which is why I need you to help me break out

of my prison. Can you do that? For the confraternita della Fenice, nothing is impossible. Yes. Okay. I have an idea. Si? Davvero? I think we should use your death as a last attempt to change your father's mind.

My death? How? How do we do that? Death by glass. When the glass claims his own son, maybe he will reconsider. I understand. You may be right. Yes, well done, kid. It's a very good idea. Thank you.

Adriano, do you have any glass that is uncontaminated by pavelia's ashes uh yes poco the glass i used in my demonstration this morning enough to make a glass coffin uh a coffin yes i mean you are a small man if we were dealing with kid over here, I dare say we would require all the glass on Murano, eh? No, no, no. I, um, scusi. I will make a coffin for myself. Yes. Oh, no need to look scared. Ma per quanto tempo? How long will I be inside the coffin? Will I be buried? No, no, no. Don't worry. It will be your replacement corpse in the coffin, not you. I assume

you can secure a replacement corpse here, kid? I have a contact at the hospital. Wonderful. This doesn't seem right. What? Taking a corpse from a hospital. You wanted a

fake death, did you not? Yes. Then let us fake death. But by using the corpse of someone else? Well, if it was your corpse, it would defeat the point, wouldn't it? Do not fret, Adriano. I have committed your features to memory. I will be able to craft a possible likeness. Um, but Benny, but, Komet, how do I die?

Nobody knows. Uh, excuse me? This is the Island of Secrets, is it not? Yes. Well, your father will find you on Murano's beach, trapped inside a glass coffin. How did you get there? Nobody knows. We will give Murano another mystery.

Oh. But even if he cannot explain it, your father will believe that the glass has unleashed its deadly magic yet again. Your father will believe that the glass has unleashed its deadly magic yet again. Hopefully it will convince him once and for all that the glass brings only tragedy in its wake. He will push the coffin out to sea. Every glassblower on Murano will watch you drift out into the lagoon. A glassblower trapped in a glass coffin. A death that will go down in folklore. Fantastico. E poi, you will take me back with you? A Londra? Well, that depends on what you want to do

in your new life. Yes, I mean, with your skill set, you can settle anywhere in the world. Kings, emperors, and sultans all will welcome you with open arms. Take your pick. No, no, no. If I continue to make glass, the council of ten will hear about it. They will hunt me down. I must give them no reason to doubt that I am dead. But glass is your life. It was my life. I would like to reinvent myself. Oh, well, all right. What do you have in mind?

Well, il vetro è etereo. Glass is ethereal. I would like to turn to something solid and earthy. The soil? I have heard that England has the most wonderful gardens. You would like to become a gardener? Instead of making glass chocker, I will make bouquets that smell.

I have a friend at the Oxford Botanic Garden. We can set you up with an apprenticeship there. Perfetto. How can set you up with an apprenticeship there. Perfetto. How can I ever repay you? Well, we have no use for chandeliers. Our rooms in London are modest and we move frequently.

But mirrors... Uno specchio. You would like a mirror? Yes. I work with faces. A true Venetian mirror would help with that work. They have inspired Venetian Sì, sì, è corretto. I shall use flesh and cartilage. Look in thy class, and tell the face thou viewest, now is the time to form another, whose fresh repair,

if now thou not renewest... Right, so we have a plan. Well, almost. There's still one very important thing missing. Oh? Um, choy? What's good to drink around here? Of course.

Prego? New beginnings deserve a toast. Oh. And I'm parched. And brindisi. Yes, clinkies. Yes. Valpolicella. It is a heavenly vino. Oh. Lovely. And, uh, where may we sample this divine beverage? I

will take you to the best cantina on Murano. Excellent. Oh, marvelous, yes. Adriano, lead the way. Clear. Andiamo, andiamo. Da questa parte. I think this might be a two-bottle deal if I'm being very honest. Too much.

You're gonna love it. I can't wait. and that's how we faked the death of adriano vianello and brought him back as jacob bobart oxford botanic gardens first permanent keeper. Hmm. What? I mean, it's a great story. Really. Gave me goosebumps. But? But it hasn't occurred to you that he could have made it all up?

Everything I told you about Murano was true. They really did keep glassblowers cloistered there. I saw them. Look it up. Yes, but the rest? You can look up Pavellia too. Yes, but the rest? What are you saying, Alvina? He wanted to get off that island. You wanted a story. Yes. So he knew you wouldn't help him without a great story, so... You think he made it all up so we would take on his case mm-hmm hasn't crossed your mind well i haven't told you what happened next well what happened next the plan didn't work oh no what went wrong kozlovsky didn't get a corpse the council of Ten caught wind of your scheme. No, no. The death went without a hitch. Adriano's glass casket was pushed out into the lagoon,

floated past Pellestrina, into the open sea, never to be seen again. So what went wrong? It didn't dissuade Adriano's father to abandon the glass. Really? Even though it had claimed his own son? He was completely under its spell. So the chandelier for that wealthy family was finished? Yes, and it was brought to Palazzo Dario. Wait, why do I know that name?

The Vianellos installed the mighty chandelier in the palazzo Dario. Wait, why do I know that name? The Vianellos installed the mighty chandelier in the palazzo's grand dining hall while the Barbaros attended an opera. The Vianellos never left that room. What? Why? On their return home from the opera, the Barbaros saw blood seeping out from under the dining hall doors. They opened the doors on a scene of carnage. Alessandro's head was sliced clean off.

Leonardo's face was shredded to ribbons. Shards were protruding from Francesco's eyes. Luca's entire body was cleaved in half. Sheesh! In a way it was lucky. Lucky? Pavelia glass died with the Vianellos. They took their secret to the grave. Pavelia ashes have never been used in glassmaking ever again. Kozlovsky and I are the only people who know about this. Well, and now you. Thank you.

So, the curse didn't spread through Venice as Adriano feared? Fortunately not. It was contained within Palazzo Dario. Contained, you say? Yes. A few years later, Vincenzo Barbaro was stabbed to death in the very same dining room. Marietta Barbaro committed suicide by jumping off the balcony into the Grand Canal. Since then, every owner of the house has died in mysterious fashion. The house that kills, that's why I've heard of it. It is one of the most famous haunted houses in the world. Didn't a member of the Who die there? Yes, in 2002. Now it stands empty. So that is the reason the house is haunted. It houses the souls of Pavelia.

You won't read that anywhere, but yes. If you ever go to Venice, Alvina, promise me you'll give Palazzo Dario a wide berth. I promise. Now, how about a lighter story? Yeah, that would be nice. What do you have in mind? Let me take you to 1587. We were based in the Tower of London. Kozlovsky was a yeoman and I was the Ravenmaster. I had just performed the Tower of London. Kozlovsky was a yeoman and I was the raven master.

I had just performed the most majestic disappearance. But a certain someone didn't appreciate it. In fact, she was royally ticked off. Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first, the credits. The Amelia Project is a production of Imploding Fictions. This episode featured Alan Bergen as the interviewer, Hemi Yeroham as Kozlowski, Alexander Ananasso as Adriano, and Julia C. Thorne as Alvina.

The episode was written and edited by Philip Thorne, with story editing by Einstein Braga, direction by Philip Thorne and Einstein Braga, music and sound design by Adam Raimonda, production assistance by Mati Patsival, and graphic design by Andas Pedersen. Thank you so much to all our supporters, and a shout out to our super patrons.

That's Celeste Joes, Heat312, Gemphidic, Albina Sant, Amelian Allison, Stephanie Weidniller-Raphael, Eduardo Vifas-Verrastecki, Alison Throe, Patricia Bornwagner, Bryce Godmer, Cliff Heisinger, Michael West, Diana Birchenbreiter, Tim McMakin, Blythe Varney, Parker Percy, Nitali, Aurora, Lee and V. Huardine, Mr. Squiggles, Tony Fisher, Tibby, Florian Byers, Kirtney Mays, Renson Boo, Mark Skrobinek, Astra Kim, Olivia Dodson, Philip Hansen, Michael David Smith, Alicia Hall, LG, Heldon Inkheart, Ryan Burnett, Robert Acker, Supercali, Fragilistic, XB,, Alex Nickel, Timotheos and Rhys Toaster. And now, the epilogue.

Kid. Now what do I? Kid. I am busy, Arthur. Busy? You call that busy? It's vain, that's what that is. Arthur. Ever since we returned from Murano, you're obsessed with this stupid mirror.

It is a work of great craftsmanship. I wish we'd never taken it. This mirror is extraordinary. Are you really so obsessed with your own reflection? Some mirrors allow you to see beyond your own reflection. They let you see... What? They let you see what?

I do not know. I do not know. I do not understand. Good Lord. You're moving me. Live and move. ¿Quién es? ¿Hola? ¿Hola?

¿Hola? ¿Quién es uno? ¿Quién es uno? हेलो जेने सुनो हाँ हाँ युखारदान बेके हम Fyodor Lobedykovich? Um...

I apologize. I did not wish to disturb you. Please, keep playing. The Fable and Falling Network. Where fiction producers flourish. The Fable and Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish. Hello! Contact Day is in but a few short months, which means it is time to begin preparations for the bi-decennial festival.

This year, we are celebrating every single one of you living in my beloved windfall. It is not our business to question the Queen's will. It is not our business to question the Queen's will. It is not our business to do anything but follow it. It is you and your loyalty that has laid the groundwork for this incredible utopian society that we seek for. Do you have any idea what's going on with us? The world should grow. It is the duty of each and every one of you

to do everything you can to make the festival a success this year. Are you ready to speak kindly with me now, child? I have no doubt that this year will be one for the history books. And that will be due in no small part to the dedication of my adoring self. Windfall, a dystopian science fiction podcast from Rogue Dialogue.