Another rainy day was haunting Arguna. This time it was only a light drizzle, as if someone had sifted the rain high up in the troposphere. A final goodbye from Arguna to its departing visitors. Corco drew his fur coat closed and looked away from the gray skies, down onto the proceedings around him. A crowd of people had formed up at the corners of the road, with different degrees of gravitas on their faces. Most faced towards the newly crowned southern king. Those who didn't faced the blue cloth in the middle of the road, the one which contained his uncle, Sonco Cauac Saqartu, Governor of the South. With bitterness in his face as much as in his heart, the king's eyes fell on the table to his left, filled with all the pointless trinkets his heart never desired. Turtles, so many of them.

He couldn't even look at the things. They reminded him of his uncle, of that time he had thrown his axe and faced off with the peacock prince, had given Corco a chance to calm himself, become worthy of carrying a crown. His uncle had only ever wanted the best for him, and he had given his everything to make sure the empire would be in safe hands, to make sure there wouldn't be another war like the one Sonco himself had lived through as a young man.

Again, Corco had betrayed his uncle's expectations. Despite his best efforts, he hadn't become emperor. He couldn't do it. He just wasn't good enough, determined enough, strong enough. Not even the so-called triumvirate would provide peace for long. After last night's duel, Corco knew that a conflict with Pacha and the Ichilias was inevitable. He was more than ready to meet them, but dreaded the thought that his uncle might be watching him, halfway through his journey, and judge his lack of talent, his short temper, his inexperience.

A sad smile crept onto his face as Corco did his best to fight back the tears. Soon, the congregation would leave. After all, this wasn't a funeral, just a sending off before his uncle would make his last trip south and home. Now that the succession was over and they were ready to set off south, at last Corco had time to work through all that had happened, and his uncle's death once again hit him like a hammer.

Again, like throughout that long night in the mansion's yard, he looked up into the gloomy sky, the memory of his triumphant duel as gray and unsubstantial as the clouds above his head.

“King Corcopaca. Please accept this gift as a sign of respect.”

He couldn't wallow in his pain. There were still things left to do. Thus he looked back down, towards the two foreigners who stood before him, the only outsiders he didn't consider enemies for now. The verdant Prince Wacoca Hulpatec and his sister Sumaci had come to send off the southern governor, ready to pay their respects.

“Thank you.”

He answered in a flat voice and took the present without care, but was surprised when he found not another empty trinket, but instead an axe, weighing heavy in his hand. The instrument looked rather simple, but the sharp glint and good balance spoke of its creator's impressive craftsmanship.

“May this weapon accompany the hero on his journey, until he finds his place among the stars,” the verdant prince said. Corco nodded and did his best to chase the sadness from his smile.

“Thank you, really. It's the kind of present my uncle would have liked... though I'm sure he would have liked some good wine more.”

“Ahahaha, though we never had the chance to speak, from all the stories regaled to us over the past days and months Lord Saqartu sounded like quite the character.”

The prince's frank laughter sounded out into the street and did its best to drive away the rain. It was a futile attempt, of course, but Corco was still thankful to the young man.

“You've received my present?” the king asked, just to make sure.

“Prince Corco, we have asked for your teacher, not some drab books, written in a strange script.” Sumaci spoke up with a frown. She had stood there the whole time while the prince had conversed with the king and quietly emitted an aura of impatience from beneath her wide paper umbrella.

“Sumaci, etiquette! It's 'king' now, not prince,” her brother warned in a stern voice.

“Please excuse me. King Corco, if we wanted firewood, we could have bought some at the market.”

The girl pursed her lips in annoyance. Corco looked back at the girl, with a slack expression, to communicate his best 'you're just trying to make trouble' face. In response, Sumaci raised her moderate chest and somehow managed to look arrogant, though she had no achievement to show for it. The king decided that the girl was incurable.

“You should know that I spent years overseas, so of course my teacher would be there as well. This is the best I can do on short notice. The knowledge encoded in these books is worth more than any teacher you could meet. You find the key to translate the words in the back. Read it, and if you think what I've offered lacks sincerity, you can burn the books and I'll still owe a debt. However, if what you read speaks to you, I expect a delegation to arrive in the south and pay a visit to the man who enlightened the Verdant Isles.”

As Corco's face slowly returned to life, the left corner of his mouth pulled out, further and further, into a sly, one-sided grin. Now it was Sumaci's turn to look confused. Corco thought this embarrassing view of her open mouth and tightly pulled eyebrows might have been her 'is your head okay' face. It was actually kind of cute.

“What does prince-”

“We really should be on our way, as we have already taken up far too much time.” Unlike his sister, Prince Wacoca managed to retain his calm. He understood what Corco had offered was an alliance. Such a public setting was no place for further discussions. With a short bow and a simple “We wish Lord Saqartu a safe journey,” he dragged off his sister and went away, back into the crowd, until they were swallowed by the rain.

Corco looked after the odd pair and thought about his plans for the future. The verdant isles would play a crucial role in them, so there might be much more contact with the two verdant folk over the coming months. He didn't mind the idea.

“King Corcopaca, sister offers her condolences.”

The familiar voice returned Corco to the present. He turned to find his sister Prima, clad in a night-blue veil and as proper as ever. A small paper umbrella was attached to her back and spanned over her head, to shield her physique from the rain. Unfortunately, with Prima's shoulder width, the protection from the dainty cover was nowhere near enough and rain had soaked through her shoulders and sleeves. Unfazed, the girl retained her peerless posture.

“Thank you. I'm glad you're here.”

Corco returned a smile and felt that the sadness he had chased off had already returned.

“No one else has come?” he continued.

“...third brother is still injured and Empress Mother will have to take care of him. As for second brother...”

“I don't begrudge Amautu for not coming. Everyone still thinks he's the one who killed Uncle Sonco. Even if he came, the rumors would only get worse. I begrudge the other ones. At least the elder could have shown up, to represent the family.”

Corco's face hardened at the thought of the pit of vipers that was his family, but Prima just stood aside and let him vent. She didn't try to make any more excuses for them. She had done what etiquette required and defended them, so now she wouldn't have to play devil's advocate any longer. At this point, the girl in his front was the only reason he hadn't lost all hope for his relatives. After Sonco's death, she was just about the only family he still cared about, excluding his cousin Atau of course.

“I heard you're leaving as well.”

Corco couldn't see her veiled face and her elegant bow spoke of her composure, but he was sure he could taste the hopeless feeling in her voice, like a drop of vinegar in a glass of water.

“Now that the succession has been decided, Lord Huemac has decided to agree to the wedding. I will undertake the travels to my new home before the first sowing of seeds.”

Corco looked at the girl for a while, frail despite her physique. Around them, all the snow had melted and flown into the nearby river. Winter was over and sowing would start within days. They both knew what this meant. Prima had been sold off to the highest bidder, as quickly as possible. Corco turned behind himself, to the table covered in useless offerings of sympathy. At the very corner he found a book, covered in cloth.

Fadelio, who had remained as his quiet shadow throughout the day, had been careful to keep it uncovered by presents throughout the day. Corco had been unsure whether or not to hand out the book, since there were quite a few risks involved. Unlike the one he had given to the verdant folk, this one had a content much more explosive, content to be used as a weapon. Still, if his trust payed off, the benefits would be huge. More than anything, he was indebted to his sister, and he didn't want to see her suffer. He had not forgotten the words they had shared in the back garden of the Pluritac mansion, back on the day of the banquet. He was reminded every time he looked up towards the stars.

“Fadelio. Bring me the book.”

The attendant raised his brows in question. Without a word, he asked, “Are you sure?”

In response, the prince nodded his head. He would be willing to take the risk and trust his own one last time, trust that Prima would be different. The servant brought the covered book and handed it to his master. Corco turned to face his sister.

“This is for you. There is a key for the language in the back, so you will understand the writing. You should burn it once you have memorized the characters. Make sure the book doesn't fall into the wrong hands. It will be your path to a life of fulfillment.”

Again she bowed, her voice unchanged.

“I thank brother for his consideration,” her calm voice rang like a dulled bell. She didn't believe, of course she didn't. Corco didn't mind. He knew that her mind would change once she started to read. Prima was smart enough. She would understand the importance of the words.

“I will pay you a visit once I have settled in the south. Read the book until then. We can talk more later.”

Another nod, and the girl walked off. She hadn't asked what the book was about, and had soon hidden it within the folds of her dress. Clever as always.

At this point, the prince was convinced that there wouldn't be any more guests. The princess had represented the imperial family after all. By all rights, she should have been the last, but one straggler still dared to go later.

“Aaah, King Corco, this is really sad. A shame to see the old man go like this. Here, a gift.”

The words were as rude as the toothy grin was out of place. Lord Villca stepped before Corco, ready for a fight. Even his gift was a silver turtle, identical to the one the king had received from the peacock at the banquet.

“King Corcopaca thanks Lord Villca for his gift.” Corco's voice remained calm and his features smooth, with no sign of anger. The balding lord frowned in response. Corco knew that Villca had expected to see him explode and make a scene, but the new king had learned a lot during his time in the capital. He knew when to show emotions, and how to bury them. No one could see the deep-red rage burning in his heart at the sight of his uncle's killer.

“You're leaving, are you?” the Lord continued in a rude tone.

“Correct. There is little left for me to do in Arguna. It will be more helpful to move south and establish good administration there as fast as possible.”

“Oh? Wouldn't the work within the triumvirate be more important than the work down south? King Corco's new lands are only bog, after all. Arguna is still the political center of Medala.”

“The work in the capital will be done by my attendant Fadelio, who will represent me in all political matters for the foreseeable future. Please refer to him if you have any questions.”

The lord looked over Corco's shoulder to the silent giant who still had one hand covered in bandages. His eyes narrowed and his lips flicked up as he studied the dull looking warrior. The king didn't mind the lord's reaction. If he continued to underestimate Fadelio, he would be in for a nasty surprise. Corco was counting on it.

“At least King Corco could stay another day. There will be a large celebration within the Villca mansion tomorrow night. We will drink on our success over the passing season and deliberate the future of Medala. King Corco is more than welcome to attend.”

Another provocation. A party right after a death wouldn't be good manners in any culture, but especially not in Yakuallpa. Still, the prince stayed calm, once again. He knew that the lord was too happy too soon. His revenge would come, swift and fierce.

“Unfortunately, my plans have been made. I will leave today, to accompany my uncle on his last journey through the mortal realm.”

“That is a shame. I wish the old man a safe journey.” The insincere words left behind, Villca got out of the way. He must have understood that the newly crowned king wouldn't let himself provoke into anything stupid, so there was be no reason left to stick around in the strengthening rain.

Freed from interruptions, Corco looked back over to his uncle's empty husk. The rain had really picked up, and the drizzle had turned into a heavy shower. As the drops bounced off the pavement, they sounded like a round of applause, a last hurrah for the dead hero of the south. Corco remembered all who had harmed him, and all who had harmed his uncle. He had never liked to be in debt and would always make good on a promise. Next time he would enter Arguna, he was determined to do it with an army.