Today should have been a happy day for the first prince of Medala. Finally, the members of the ancestral hall would meet to decide on their candidate for next emperor. Not only that, after weeks of inconvenience, Corco could take off that damn sling. The regenerative powers of his cultivation technique were truly amazing. And yet, he couldn't muster a single positive thought. Like so many days in Arguna, it had started to rain again. The light drizzle had soaked Corco throughout the night, just like it had washed away all the blood. All that remained from the drama of the banquet was the prince himself, still sitting there in front of the table, though his uncle's corpse was long gone. He heard footsteps in his back, yet he still just stared at that table, the silhouette of his uncle burned into his retina.

“You have to get ready. It'll be time soon.”

He heard Fadelio's voice from behind. Corco looked up at the gray sky and let the rain drip down on his face. The sky mirrored his own feelings and replaced the tears he had lost the moment Sonco had died. He looked up there for what seemed like an eternity, lost in thought. All night he had contemplated, about where he had gone wrong. About why his uncle had to die. He still didn't have all the answers, but for now, he would follow Sonco Saqartu's last wishes. Stay calm, get his uncle back home and most importantly, don't hold back. Still weary, he turned to his friend and answered in a hoarse voice.

“Got it.” He got up and stretched his body to shake off the fatigue of the night. “What about uncle?”

“Lord Saqartu has been under the care of his warriors. I have ensured them that after the succession, we will help them make their way home, so they will be staying here for now and hold vigil.”

“...and what about yourself?”

By now his friend's entire right arm was bound to his body with bandage. His thick eastern armor had shielded the worst of the bullets, but the impacts had still covered his body in bruises. There was a good chance that his arm had been broken at some point during their escape and an especially nasty hit had penetrated the thin armor between the fingers. As of now there was no telling whether or not the warrior could save his weapon arm.

“I'll be fine. But you have to get it together. Seeing you like this would be the last thing Lord Saqartu would have wanted. Let's go out there and fuck 'em up.”

Finally, some light returned to Corco's eyes, but it was changed, different from before.

“Yeah, we will,” he replied with confidence before he made his way inside.

He needed some fresh clothes; and he needed to prepare his new strategy. Today would be a good show. One his uncle would have surely enjoyed.

Corco looked back towards Fadelio. After being stuck with Primus for so long, it felt good to have his old assistant back by his side, even if he had been injured. He had thought about replacing Fadelio again, but today was too important. During the ancestral assembly, the ancestors would determine the next emperor candidate. The potential candidates were allowed to observe the final deliberation and even appeal to the ancestors one final time, but they could only bring one of their warriors as support. Bringing in the member of a different house like Primus would be seen as unusual and Dedrick was a problem... just in general, as a person. He didn't have much else left in the way of warriors, so they would have to do their best with the hand they had been dealt.

Today would be his victory, no matter what. He would no longer believe in his own invincibility and he would no longer hold back. They were a bit late, but the ancestors would usually take their time whenever they made an announcement. Nothing would change that for today. Plus, he was sure that another one of the candidates wouldn't be waiting in the guest hall yet.

As they reached the top of the stairs, the entrance into the Moonlight Ziggurat was finally ahead. They were, however, blocked by the guards outside.

“Are you serious? You don't know who I am. Really?”

The guard in question, an elite sipyi warrior, replied with a light shrug, uncomfortable that he had to stop the prince who had been under constant attack since his arrival in Arguna.

“Prince Corcopaca, this servant does not intend to deny your status, but weapons are not allowed inside.”

With that, he gestured towards Corco's attendant.

“Does that look like a weapon to you?” Corco replied with a look back to the large metal cone Fadelio was carrying. “How would you even kill someone with this? If you can explain that to me I'll leave it outside. You can have it.”

“...then may this servant be so bold to ask what the object may be used for instead?”

“It's a gift. For my grandfather. We're allowed to bring gifts, aren't we?”

“Of course. Please enter, Prince Corcopaca.”

The guard didn't seem convinced, but he wouldn't want to deny an ancestor his bribes. That would only be trouble. Thus, the warrior decided to back off and waved them through.

Wherever Corco looked, the interior design of the Moonlight Ziggurat screamed wastefulness. The green stones of all the walls and floors were hidden under expensive carpets, held together with silver clamps. Only the three meter high ceiling was uncovered, but even there any traces of the stones had disappeared behind the soot of the beds of coal which lined the halls and rooms every few steps and covered everything in a warm, comfortable glow. The warriors placed near the coals were there to make sure no visitors would go astray. Plus, they could prevent a fiery inferno once the impractically placed flames crossed over to the carpets.

Corco didn't have to walk for long to reach his goal. Soon, he came to a stairway which would lead down into the waiting room and then even further to the ancestral hall and the living quarters for the ancestors. However, Corco's focus was not on the stairs. What he found far more interesting was the light up ahead, because up ahead would be the grand court of Medala and the silver throne. Up ahead should be empty. With no emperor elected and no court in session, no one should be allowed to enter the court at all. However, Corco wasn't surprised in the least. He went over to one of the coal warriors and asked, just in case.

“Hey, who is in the throne room? Shouldn't that place be off limits?”

The guard didn't turn his head, but only used his eyes to glance to the side.

“This servant does not understand Prince's meaning.”

Then, the coal man's eyes left the prince and returned to his front. It was obvious the warrior was feeling guilty.

“You sure? Maybe I should go take a look myself?”, Corco asked back.

“Prince should be aware that the grand court cannot be entered without permission.”

This time, the coal warrior wouldn't even move his eyes. Corco got angry. The warrior was clearly fishing for a bribe, but the prince was not willing to oblige. He had arranged this meeting himself, so he would rather die than pay for entry. Not to mention, the blatant culture of corruption in the courts was something he had always despised anyways. So instead, he had to think about the stars again to calm himself down before he tried to talk his way inside.

“...you know, if I insist on investigating the room, this isn't gonna end well for you. You'll probably end up dead once your superiors find out your involvement in whatever this is, while the culprits will end up with a slap on the wrist. Just because I have a higher status than you. So maybe you should try and scam an easier target next time, huh? Now, I'm just gonna go in there and do my job. So you just keep doing yours and bravely stare at the fire.”

With practiced ease, Corco ignored the warrior's disapproving frown and made his way past the stairs and towards the grand court. The heavy doors were opened a bit, a clear sign of the visitors inside. Using both hands, Corco pushed open the door.

The first thing he saw were the wooden benches to the side, reserved for officials, and the massive stone pillars which held up the ceiling. Small windows high up on the walls would let in some measure of daylight, but the coals and bronze mirrors were responsible for the true illumination within the court. Finally, in the center of the room stood what Corco and the other princes had been striving for all these weeks and months.

A long, intricately woven red and blue carpet led up to the dais with the backless silver throne on top, the original to the small court's much less impressive replica. On top of it, pride oozing out of every pore of his body, sat his younger brother Amautu, with his Chutwa teacher by his side.

“Brother! How nice of you to join us.”

Of course Amautu wouldn't be surprised by the visitors. After all, it had been Corco who had arranged their meeting last second. 'Negotiations on neutral ground', Corco had called it. For the two of them, what place could be more neutral than the Moonlight Ziggurat?

“What exactly do you think you're doing?”

Corco did his best to sound upset at his brother's boldness. In truth, things were going much better than planned.

“It's practice, dear brother,” Amautu replied as he straightened his spine further and stretched his arms over the armrests, in perfect imitation of their father.

“So not only do you sit on the throne to spit on our traditions, you also take an outsider into the Moonlight Ziggurat.”

Corco looked over to the man at Amautu's side. The ever-smiling great scholar Ichtaka.

“My teacher is more than qualified to attend the meeting. This prince won't even break any rules. Great teacher Ichtaka has been officially declared my warrior, haven't you heard?”

Amautu gave his brother a bemused look.

“Okay, whatever. I'm not here to fight, I want to offer peace.”

“Peace? That's surprising, coming from you. After all...”

Amautu weighed his next words with care.

“Say it.”

Corco knew that the second prince would be worried about worsening relations between them with his next accusation, but at this point, none of it mattered to the elder brother.

“...I did not kill Sonco Cauac Saqartu.”

“...that wasn't my plan. Sorry.”

Corco was quick to apologize. He knew it was unfair of him to ruin his brother's name like this, but he had made a promise. He wouldn't hold back any longer. Not even for family.

“Since you are sorry, maybe you should help me make things right with the lords. Don't you think so, brother?”

Amautu knitted his brows as his fingers began to tap a rhythm on the armrest.

“You know that won't make a difference. The rumor has spread and the damage has been done. I didn't find out the truth until after the lords were gone and haven't seen them since last night's banquet. And now we're already here.”

In response, Corco's brother grasped both armrests of the throne, forceful enough to create a bang. Yet even now, his voice was still calm.

“Your transgression is regrettable, but it won't make a difference. You did well to get into the ghost yard so timely. I thought I might have to tell you myself. But what fun would that have been? It's good that you made your commoner dogs spread word so quickly. Like this you've taken out my harshest competitor. However, you really should have spread the full truth. It would have been far more effective.”

He gave Corco a confident smile. His plan had succeeded and he held all the players in the palm of his hand, that was probably what he thought. Corco however was determined to flip the game board.

“We're still family. All of us. That hasn't changed,” Corco lied. Without remorse.

“And yet you still released those rumors. I doubt anyone will support our uncle Pachacutec today. Well, maybe his father will. And the old Ichilia might. But it is not enough to rock the boat. After his failure and shame, nomination will be decided between the two of us. Do you really think the ancestors will admit to having made a mistake? Those old men are used to getting their will. They are never wrong. Even if they are wrong, it must be the world that is lying to them.”

“Remind you of someone?”

Amautu ignored his brother's jab and continued his victory speech.

“What about me then? Educated, driven... cultured. The only cultured man on this damned barbarian island. And remember, dear brother, that others know how to spend their time as well. While you were busy trying to win over lords, I have been meeting with elders. You can have the support from forty-two or however many lords you want, if you cannot win the nomination you will never be emperor. You'll see. The only one to succeed today will be me.”

“We'll see about that,” Corco replied back with faked defiance.

“Are you sure about antagonizing me, brother? You called me here for a reason, have you not? You are a smart man. For a barbarian at least. I am sure you would make a useful advisor at my court. All you have to do is rescind your claim before we go down the stairs out front.”

The second prince gestured towards the exit with a lazy move of his head. His hands still hadn't moved from the throne. Corco had observed his brother from the second they had entered. His self-confident stance. How he filled out the throne, as if it was natural. Whatever illusions Corco had had about his younger brother until now, whatever reservations about fighting dirty, they were all long gone, washed away by the morning rain.

“...I've said this at the banquet that night, but just as a reminder: Your arrogance is your biggest weakness. Of all the people who could be emperor today, your chances are the lowest.”

“Nonsense!”

Amautu finally got up from his claimed seat, enraged by the bold prediction.

“You'll see, brother. Today you'll learn about karmic justice. Really shouldn't have sat in that chair. Let's go Fadelio. We shouldn't associate with these kinds of people.”

With those final words, Corco turned around to leave Amautu in his back, fuming and confused. His second brother wouldn't be a threat any more. Just one left.