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Chapter 358 - Support
🕑 Added 2020-12-18 16:26:29 +0000 UTCInside Rapra Castle, the King’s study was left abandoned for the first time in years. After Corco’s meeting with Priest Watayi, he had left his usual office and never returned.
Instead, the king had retreated deeper into the castle’s halls, to a courtyard far removed from the usual business of the southern kingdom’s political center. This place was isolated from the rest of the castle, because it was actually intended as a prison for high-ranking ‘guests’. As a result, the multiple rooms had all the comfort he could want. Most importantly, it had the peace and quiet he needed to reflect on his recent decisions.
Despite the bravado he had shown during his confrontation with Watayi, the conflict had sapped all enthusiasm out of the king. In fact, he didn’t feel like doing any work for the first time in a decade.
All his life, Corco had believed in the Divines, in the Pacha faith. After he had received his new knowledge, his faith had been tested. But back then, he had been far away from home, on a different continent, and far away from any Pacha priests. Back then, he had been given enough time and calm to reflect on his own beliefs. Thus, he could slowly come to conclusions that he was satisfied with.
This time, things were different. Unlike before, he hadn’t just quietly questioned his own faith by himself. Instead, those who questioned him were the high priests of the Pacha faith themselves, the highest authorities on matters of religion, at least in his eyes.
Although he had talked tough towards Watayi, and had been determined to go through with his alternative plans in a moment of anger, now he had calmed down. Now, he was questioning everything again, both his past decisions and his future path.
He had grown up with stories of the Divines. His own parents had told him to always listen to the priests, and now both of them were buried in the manner of the Pacha faith. Even years later, he would visit his mother’s beacon almost every day. This sort of long-term belief wouldn’t just go away simply because he determined that the right thing to do was to resist the priests.
Even worse, he knew that his next choice would, ultimately, be a lie. As a politician, sometimes, lies were unavoidable. This time however, Corco would lie to his own people, on a deeply fundamental issue that would change their lives forever. It was also a decision that could plunge them into a long and ugly war. Yet he found no alternative path, nothing less morally reprehensible that would still lead to his ideal kingdom.
Conflicted, Corco had chosen, for the first time, to run. For now, there wasn’t much to do anyways. Since he couldn’t change the overall situation until the winter solstice, he could afford a few days of decadence.
Unlike his usual habits, these days had been spent completely sober. Isolated from almost everyone, he had tried to find it in himself to give the final orders. Yet even now, he refused to make the step that would irreversibly change the Pacha faith forever, and would plunge the Medala Empire into a civil war.
Through the windows in his lonely room, he could see the clouds in the sky, same as they had been since he had come here. This year had been particularly warm again. There was a real chance they would celebrate the winter solstice in a rainstorm. A heavy storm during the festival would influence his plans greatly. Maybe this was something he could consider working on, rather than the more abstract question of his moral responsibility towards his people.
Just as he became trapped in his thoughts again, the door opened. In came Sumaci, the only person he had seen over the past few days.
“Here’s your dinner,” she said. At the same time, she left a metal cloche on the ornate table in the room.
“Thank you, Maci.”
He offered a shallow smile, but showed no other emotion beyond that. For a second, his wife stared at him as if she wanted to say something more about his poor state, but in the end she only sighed.
“By the way,” she said instead, “Your friend, the former apprentice priest, is still waiting for you in the castle. You sent for him two days ago already, so when will you finally talk to him?”
“I don’t think there’s any rush,” a stubborn Corco said while he sat down in front of his food. “There’s still time left to prepare.”
Again, Sumaci sighed and sat down next to her husband.
“The decision’s already been made, so why delay it any longer?” she asked. “You can’t always run from this.”
“I can totally run for a few more days though. And I fully intend to do so.”
Just as Corco put his hand on the cloche and wanted to lift it, Sumaci covered his hand with hers. When he turned to look at her, he saw her as serious as he had ever seen her.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we’ve all humored you for the last three days. Can’t you at least listen for a bit?”
“Fine. Let’s talk.” Corco’s expression softened. “But I’m not sure what good that’ll do.”
“I just don’t understand it.” Now Sumaci sounded distressed. “You’ve always been so decisive, in everything you did. Why are you suddenly like this?”
“This is different,” he insisted. “My faith is important to me, you know that.”
“You always say that your family is important to you too,” she replied. “Still, back then, you fought your brother and your uncle for the throne. You even exposed your grandfather’s affair with your stepmother, aired your family’s dirty laundry out in the open, for the entire empire to see. And now, you’re fighting your cousin for power of the southern kingdom. You’ve fought your family, just like you need to fight the Pacha priests now. So what’s the difference?”
Although Corco understood that she was right on an intellectual level, he just couldn’t accept the truth in his heart. And to him, there was also a big difference between his previous actions and what he was trying to do now.
“This time, I’m prepared to cheat my own people, for my own purposes.”
“For their own good,” Sumaci insisted.
“And how would I know?” he shot back. “I can’t see into the future! I’m just some loser exile who got lucky and was handed an unfair advantage over everyone else. What right do I have to lie them into a war, and to change a key part of their lives like that?”
“You’re such a talented man, but somehow, you’re the only one who can never see it. Do you think I would marry someone just because they were lucky? Excuse my rudeness, teacher, but I have higher standards.”
Although Corco tired to laugh at her joke, he only managed a bitter smile.
“It’s just a tough decision. It feels like a step I can’t take back.”
“That goes for all steps, really. Come on, you’ve never been a wimp. Do you want to start now?” She playfully hit his shoulder, though it felt a bit forced. “You already know that the priests are corrupt. They need reform, that isn’t news to anyone. So why won’t you accept it? And the Pacha faith is changing either way, right? Isn’t that why the priests keep talking about these ‘great changes’ in their readings? The Pachayawna has tried to get involved in politics for years now. All this talk of great changes was only to prepare for this step. Seems like he has finally achieved his goal. According to our people in Arguna, your uncle Pacha has just appointed the Pachayawna as his chief advisor. It’s all the people in the capital are talking about these days.”
“Wait, is that true?”
Finally, Corco depression was replaced by another emotion. As so often for him, it was anger. Here he was, making an honest effort to reconcile with the priests, whom he had helped so much in the past. Yet none of them seemed to value his effort at all.
Instead, they once again sided with Pacha, who had betrayed them before. In the end, all it came down to for them was the expansion of their own power. Why was he so broken up about troubling their greedy organization?
“The priests have made their choice,” Sumaci continued. “There is no going back now. No matter what you want, there will be changes within the Pacha faith. Because the priests themselves want change. If we do nothing, it will only change in a direction that will harm everyone. That is, everyone except the high priests. Only if we act now can we help push them in a benign reaction that will benefit the people.”
Corco remembered the plans he had made with Watachay in the past. Back then, they had thought that they could slowly reform the Pacha priesthood from within, to turn them into a more open, more progressive organization that could tolerate the great changes that were about to hit all of Medala. By now, this was more than just an idle hope. No, if he wanted to minimize the deaths in the upcoming turmoils, it was a necessary change.
However, even though he knew all that, he still couldn’t make the final decision. In the end, he realized that what he was bound by most were not moral reservations, but his own personal feelings. There was still a trace of selfishness he just couldn’t shake.
“I just don’t wanna go down in history as the guy who destroyed our religion and lied his people into a civil war,” he frankly admitted. In response, Sumaci’s tender hand softly touched his cheek.
“Then you just have to achieve more greatness than anyone can deny. Easy, right?” She showed her usual, cheeky grin. “Not to mention, this is a burden you won’t have to carry alone. I’m here as well, and there is also still that lost priest waiting outside.”
“I understand. Thank you.” At once, Corco stood up and straightened his posture. “Please send in Watachay. I’m ready.”
However, his wife just looked at him for a second with sympathy.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to clean yourself up,” she said, before she left the room.
Confused, Corco looked over to a mirror in the corner. Only then did he realize that his days of isolation hadn’t been kind to his personal hygiene. Rather than send him the ex-priest straight away, Sumaci ended up bringing him some hot water and fresh clothes. Grateful for his wife’s thoughtfulness, Corco got himself cleaned up.
By the time Wataychay entered the room, the king was back to his old self, full of confidence and assured of his future path. As soon as the former apprentice priest had stepped inside and closed the door, he bowed deeply.
“King, please excuse this mortal’s intrusion,” he said.
“It’s alright,” Corco replied. “Please get up and have a seat. I’m glad to see that you’re fine.”
When Watachay raised his head again, Corco could see the bitter look on his face. It was the kind of expression the king had sported himself not too long ago.
“Okay, maybe not that fine,” he commented as the ex-priest sat down opposite the king.
“How could I be fine?” Watachay asked. “How could anyone be under the circumstances? When master threw me out, there were tears in my eyes. Yet now that I have walked the streets of Saniya, my own plight seems to matter little compared to the suffering of all Yaku. I thought, even if I lost all hope for myself, at least so long as Saniya stood strong, there was still hope for all true adherents of the Pacha faith. Yet now I see that all hope is lost.”
“Well, that’s a bit melodramatic.” Corco grinned. For once, he wasn’t the one being theatrical. “I’d say that this thing isn’t quite over yet.”
“But…” The priest tried to refute him, but caught himself. Over the next few seconds, understanding dawned on his face, until he finally said, “King Corcopaca, you have a plan!”
In response, the king’s grin got wider.
“I tend to, yes. Several in fact. But with you here, I’ll only use the best of the best. Fresh off the presses. You’ll like it, I can tell already.”
Although he had only just sat down, Watachay jumped up again. Light returned to his eyes as he rattled on like a waterfall, clearly excited.
“In that case, King, the people of the city need to be assured of their safety first!” he said, almost shouting in Corco’s face. “At the moment, they are rudderless, out at sea and without direction! They need the guidance of their king, to return them to the right shore! Or the snakes of the priesthood will continue to lead them into the reefs!”
“Again, there’s no need for the melodrama, not quite yet,” Corco said. He was glad to see that his ally was so enthusiastic again. They would need his enthusiasm soon. “It’s good that the priests are flinging mud at me, and it’s good that all the lords are acting out against the people of the city. Let them rampage for a few days, that’ll only play into our hands. The more they press me now, the more violent the reversal will be.”
“And when will that reversal be, King Corcopaca? And what can I do?” an excited Watachay asked, but then his enthusiasm visibly cooled. “Though as I am, I cannot provide much help, I am afraid. I am a mere private person now, no longer a man who can speak on behalf of the heavens.”
“I wouldn’t sell myself that short, if I were you,” Corco said. “And you won’t have to wait that long to be important again. The winter solstice festival is when it will all kick off, though we still need to add some tinder to make the fire burn nice and bright. Say, did you talk with other like-minded priests since our last conversation like you wanted?”
“Indeed I did,” Watachay replied. Though he still looked confused, he sat back down and gathered his thoughts for a second. “There are many who abhor the Pachayawna’s current course, stained by worldly greed. However, many of them are young and lack influence within the priesthood. They cannot oppose the high priests, not without just cause. Though If there was a just cause, they could speak out in righteousness, and gain the sympathy of the people. Only then could a reversal be possible.”
“Just cause? That much, we can provide for them. Give me a list of the priests, I’ll send them invitations to our festival. Until then, you should stay in the castle. We’ll meed to have some talks… and I guess I will have to invite a few more people to join us as well. I’ve wasted too much time already, and we still need to prepare a good speech for you. I’ll give you a large enough platform, a stage where the entirety of Medala will listen. All you need to do is provide them with your vision for the future of the Pacha faith. That’s all. Just some honest reflection and clear diction, that’ll be enough to return to the right path.”
The priest didn’t comment, despite Corco’s own melodrama. Instead, he nodded earnestly.
“I will do as asked,” he said. “However… who would truly listen to the words of an ordinary mortal like myself?”
As he had done before, Corco looked at the clouded sky again, though now his mood was much different from earlier. In fact, he could feel the faint excitement of anticipation. Once again, he was planning something big. This time, it would solve more than just a few of his problems.
“That, you don’t need to worry about,” he said. “I had a little diy project planned for a while now. If everything goes well, and we get it done until the festival, no one will have the choice to ignore you any more.”
Hermit's Notes: Yeah, so this way delayed a bit. All the chapters ended up sorta stuck together as I wrote them, so it took me a while to finish it all and to untangle them.
So I'll be posting them all at once now. Three more to follow.
