Corco was lost in thought. While his fingers tapped on his upper lip, he looked after the men who had just left the command tent in the center of his army's encampment. Their reception in Puscanacra had been cold, but that had been expected. After all, it was customary that throughout the funerary rites, up until the funeral proper, the deceased would not have any contact with people outside of the family. Only the Pacha priests themselves were exempt from this custom. While Sonco had been his uncle, Corco didn't carry the name 'Saqartu' after all. In the end, he was still a member of House Pluritac. Thus, the priests had silently passed their group off to the north of Puscanacra to collect his uncle's body and the remaining Saqartu warriors. After, the king's group had been led past the city, all the way to the south. Here, under the shadow of the city walls, a camp had been erected to house their army after it had labored its way across all of Sachay. The priests' reception had been respectful enough, but he had yet to see any members of House Saqartu and the mercenaries had complained of a lack of care from the Saqartu side. Which begged the question:

“Why are our people out here? Why wouldn't your family let them into their city?” At last, Corco his contemplation to adress Atau. The captain scratched his brow in annoyance, uncomfortable by their circumstances.

“It... seems like there have been problems. While the craftsmen and merchants have been let inside, the wolf mercenaries are considered a foreign army by all accounts. Letting in foreign troops is not something a Medala Lord would do.”

“You really think the Saqartu warriors can't handle our little outpost?” While a thousand cultivators would be considered a respectable troop on Arcavia, in Medala those numbers were barely enough to be relevant on an average battlefield, even if they were elites. With better hygiene and better harvests than Arcavia, Medala had a much larger population, which meant much more room to feed warriors and levy peasants. Unlike the Arcavians, Medala lords could field large forces without starving out their country.

“Of course not... but it's still the same as seven years ago. My dear brother is afraid I'll take away his inheritance with my barbarian hordes. Mayu has convinced the old man that the foreign soldiers shouldn't be let inside. I was sent an invitation, but I will not leave our men here all by themselves.” Atau had remained calm since their arrival, but now, away from the eyes of others, the warrior's emotions exploded with a punch on the table between them. Right after, the captain began to stalk around the room as he complained in a loud voice. “Again. Again he's doing this. It wasn't enough that he sent me off into nothing, over to the Arcavian wastes. No, even now that I've changed house to Pluritac he won't let go! Just keeps making trouble for no good reason, the paranoid dimwit! What am I supposed to do, huh? It's not my fault he's so damn useless!”

In response to the outburst, a light sigh escaped from Corco's lips. Their current plight was what lay the most heavy on Atau's mind. Similar to Corco, he had been exiled away by his own father. However, at least Corco had an excuse he could tell himself: That his father had only tried to protect him from the dangers of Arguna. That he had been sent away only until the situation could be brought under control. Atau, on the other hand, had no such convenient tales of comfort. His only option was to forgive and to understand. Those had never been Atau's strong suits.

“You know what's even worse? Up until the end, the old bastard wouldn't even let go of me. Even after all this time, even from beyond the grave he keeps making trouble for me, keeps getting in my way. You know what? I'm glad-”

“Atau di Pluritac!” Finally, the silent king spoke up. Whatever the captain had wanted to say, Corco wouldn't let his friend finish. Without doubt, Atau's next words would have been something he would have regretted for the rest of his life. The tall captain stopped prowling around the room and instead stared at his seated cousin in defiance.

“Is that why you're out here, rather than inside the city, out of spite? You should be with your family and you should talk to your father.”

A sneer snuck onto Atau's lips, bitter and rancorous. “I'm not a Saqartu anyways, remember? Atau di Pluritac has no place in that city.”

“Uncle Sonco wanted to see you, you know? He... wanted to see how much you had grown, wanted to see that beard I kept telling him about... and he wanted to apologize for what he had done back then.”

“Bullshit!” At first, Atau's snide look had been unchanging, but soon his facade broke down and revealed red-hot anger underneath.

“It's the truth. Other people were there as well. You can ask Fadelio or Dedrick once you see them. You also know that I'm not really in the habit of lying. Not to my own people, at least.” His lips now firmly pressed together, Atau seemed to be in deep thought.

“I know how you feel, better than most. You should understand that. Our positions were almost identical. Both our fathers decided, together, to send us away. In both cases we came back to find our brothers in a takeover of the lands our families had left us. I know it's tough, and I know it hurts. But back when I came to Arguna, the first thing I did was still to visit the imperial tomb. Believe me, talking to my father, one last time, lifted a weight off my shoulders greater than I could have hoped. Never forget your roots, they're what grounds you in this world.”

“How is it my fault if my own always try to uproot me? I have done everything required of a Saqartu man and I will not be humiliated like this!” Another heavy fist landed, this time on the central pillar of the tent. Ignoring the shiver of the cloth around himself, Corco continued.

“But you are rooted. Maybe not here, maybe not like you used to be, but you still have a family. Unlike me in Arguna, at least you have a place to go home to. Up north, we have a territory all to ourselves, a new utopia for us to build. You'll come along and help me build it, I'll be relying on that.”

A deep breath and a short nod told Corco that his cousin had calmed down, but he still needed to give him one last push, for his own sake.

“So please, go into the city and say goodbye to your father. Only then will you be able to focus on your new family, your new home. We will change Medala's future, for good. As someone with such lofty ambitions, you should have enough magnanimity to forgive your own father after death, and accept his apology.”

“That's a good idea. I'll say goodbye to the old man today... and I'll only come back once Saniya has surpassed Puscanacra in every regard. I'll show the old man what kind of mistake he made when he threw me away!”

Atau turned as he spoke, ready to leave the tent. Corco pushed himself off of the comfortable chair and followed his cousin out into the sunshine. Despite the attempt at persuasion, the captain's goal still wasn't what Corco would call healthy, but at least he looked ahead again, no longer focused on the past. For now, it had to be enough.

Out in the sunlight, Corco first found the retreating back of his cousin, before he turned to the side. Tamaya and the other ghost warriors had been waiting outside of the command tent, ready to take his orders. While the Saqartu warriors had already returned home and Dedrick's mercenaries had simply been reintegrated into the camp, the emperor's ghost warriors were harder to place. For now, they would move together with their king. In the first place, it would be better to enter Puscanacra accompanied by proper Yaku warriors. With tension between Atau and his family more than apparent, it seemed wise to avoid any reason for pointless conflict, so the arcavians would stay here for now.

Thus, Corco motioned for Tama and the half a dozen ghost warriors to follow along before he went after his cousin. As they walked, Corco was greeted by the clanging of pots and pans. The mercenaries around him all greeted the merchant prince with nods and friendly calls of “Welcome back, Boss”. He really felt more at home here. By the time they had left the camp and the smell of cheap broth behind them, they had caught up with the long strides of Atau. Corco walked with him shoulder to shoulder, to show his support.

“There's no need to come along. I can handle this myself.” Atau said, his eyes still transfixed by the view on his home town. The city of Puscanacra was considerably larger than Saniya, a true city rather than a fortified town. Strangely, the city walls had the height of only two men and were built from simple wood. Not only did it show the lack of good quarries in Sachay's south-west, in also showed the supreme confidence the lords of the south had in their central city and the prowess of its warriors. Never, not even during the War of the Isles, had an army sieged Puscanacra. Despite Atau's insistence that their group wasn't welcome, they had been allowed to set up their camp a mere three hundred meters away from the walls, showing that House Saqartu was at least not completely hostile to them.

Soon, they reached the heavy, ornate oaken gate of southern Puscanacra. In its front stood four well-equipped warriors who spoke to small crowd of ordinary looking commoners, possibly farmers. Just as Corco was about to send a warrior for questioning, Tamaya, once again, did the work for him.

“Go ask the commoners what's going on,” the girl addressed a short, muscular man in brown rags. Most of the emperor's ghosts were dressed simple outside of combat. It had helped them blend into the crowds of Arguna's inner streets. Here again, their common appearance would prove useful in getting honest answers out of the ordinary folk. Despite his experiences over the last few weeks, it was important for Corco to remember that most Yaku people weren't lords or warriors. As he watched the warrior hasten ahead to ask the peasants with the wood-laden oxen at the end of the queue, the king warned himself to remember that. After a bit of thought, he decided to take off his crown and handed it to Tamaya.

“No point in the thing. I'm here as Atau's cousin and Sonco's nephew,” he answered Tama's confused look. By the time the warrior was done with his questioning, their group had reached the end of the queue.

“King Corco, it seems like the city is closed off due to Lord Saqartu's arrival. No one is to be let in,” the warrior said while he kept pace with the group.

“What's your name?” Corco asked in a casual manner.

“Replying to King Corco, this servant is named Quato.” Quato's eyes went large in surprise, before he bowed his head deeply, aware of his rudeness. Corco only smiled in response, something he hoped would make him look lordly.

“It's fine, Quato. Let's see what the warriors at the front have to say on the matter.”

As they passed by the peasants and merchants, they received a few curious, and many suspicious, stares. However, in the end, no one deemed it necessary to talk to them. With the simple cloth most people in their group were sporting, the commoners would have considered them rich merchants at best. No one noticed as their rightful king walked right past them. Once they had reached right in front of the gate, they found the four Saqartu warriors built up with broad stances, scanning over the crowd.

One of the men, wearing a red robe with long sleeves down over his hands, spotted them first and walked towards them, away from his colleagues.

“My apologies, dear visitors. The city will remain closed on this day of mourning. The dead need to be respected.”

“Do you even know who stands before you?!” Tama called with an impish smile on her face. She really seemed to enjoy her role more and more, but Corco would rather avoid the commotion when the commoners found out his identity, so he appeased Tama before he turned to the warrior.

“It's fine. Your loyalty becomes you well. However, this man here is the son of Sonco Cauca Saqartu, and I am Lord Sonco's nephew. As family of the governor, we only wish for entry to pay our respects.”

The warrior seemed not surprised by Corco's identity. Uncomfortable, he looked back to his colleagues, who ignored the crowd and stared at them from a distance.

“This warrior is inconsolable, but that will not be possible. King Corco does not carry the Saqartu name and thus cannot be let inside.”

“Then what about my cousin?” Corco frowned. In response, the warrior pressed his lips together, before he glanced back one more time and gave his shocking answer in a whisper.

“...King Corco, we are under strict, specific instruction to not let Master Atau into the walls. We cannot defy our orders. Please understand our plight.”

“Ahaha, I knew it!” Atau shouted over the crowd, hand already on his axe as his face displayed a dark grin. “The little one won't even let me see my own father, is that how petty he has grown in seven years? You sure you won't let me through?”

Even under threat of his life, the warrior only took a step back and raised his hands, unarmed.

“Master Atau, please. This warrior has no intention to-”

“Stand aside and let the men pass, these are instructions from my own person.”

Without anyone's notice, the gate had been opened. From the inside had come the graceful figure of a woman. Covered in blue cloth to mourn the death of the governor, she still held onto her posture and the strength in her voice. Though her face was veiled, the gray streaks within the pitch-black hair which escaped from the cloth showed her age. Even with her face hidden, Corco immediately recognized the alto sound, smooth as silk.

“Mother!” Atau called. Sonco's wife, Governess Guanca Ogulno had arrived to prevent a catastrophe, just in time.