Amautu was having a bad day. Before the start of the assembly he had been sure to have won over most of the ancestors, but right from the start nothing had gone according to plan. The ancestors who had been so supportive before now stayed quiet as his own grandfathers did whatever they could to heave his bastard half-brother onto the throne. Even worse, his older brother Corco had come much better prepared than he thought, and the saint was finally ready to make his hands dirty. It had caught Amautu completely caught off. At this point, all regrets were moot. As far as the ancestors were concerned, his lack of respect for the throne had been proven.

historical

By the time Corco stepped back into the Ancestral Hall, the atmosphere in the room had completely shifted against Amautu. Since his defiant stare was ignored by his brother, the second prince turned to the people who really mattered. Where the ancestors had been in a quiet, suppressed mood before, now they deliberated over the candidates in whispers. No longer did they show any concern towards the second prince. It was obvious that their minds had been swayed. Meanwhile, Both Spuria and her father at the head of the assembly looked around the room in satisfaction.

There had been little reason for them to give Amautu the time of day before, not seeing with how vigor he had opposed his mother’s family. They must be happy to get rid of a competitor. With Amautu losing his support from within the Ancestral Hall, there would be no chance for him to gain nomination anymore. Not unless a true miracle happened.

The return of Elder Caelestis followed soon after Corco. On any other day Amautu would relish in the beast’s defeat, but this time the sorry figure spoke of another victory for his eldest brother. The old hyena’s face was as gray as the sooty snow of Arguna as his stiff, sluggish steps led him back to his seat. Once he reached his chair, he plopped down his lifeless body, something which seemed to take all of his strength. Elder Acquilinus Ichilia frowned in response. He would understand that the Pluritac elder was acting peculiar, but even the master of ceremonies couldn’t change the itinerary, so he resumed the discussion according to schedule.

"With the final witness returned, this elder will ask as before: Does Elder Caelestis believe that the second prince, Amautu Titu Secundu Pluritac, has disrespected his ancestors?"

Caelestis, distracted from his thoughts, labored his head to turn and look at his equal within the Ancestral Hall. It seemed to take him a while to register the question, but in the end he understood what had been asked. His reply came in a quiet voice.

"Yes. Prince Amautu sat on the silver throne."

The murmurs around turned louder as the elders saw their fears confirmed by one of their own, one who had shown himself to be neutral throughout the succession.

Amautu took a deep breath, prepared to risk it all. He had one final, desperate counterattack to offer. He wanted to shout out the words he had held within his heart for so many years. Wanted to tell everyone the truth about his uncle Pacha. About the barbarity which he had seen right within the palace. However, a look to his side, a look to his half-brother, brought him back to his senses.

He saw his brother Corco, first prince of Medala, with his lips pressed tight and his eyes widened, shaking his head in warning. Amautu’s thought trailed off while he attempted to decipher his brother’s actions. What was going on here? Just like Corco, Amautu had always been more of a thinker than a fighter, so as usual, his head went to work.

First, Corco knew about the elder’s actions and about Pacha’s true status, Amautu had made sure of that. Second, Corco had left the grand court later than his mother and his master. Which meant he had stayed behind to talk to their grandfather. It seemed like his brother had already arranged a nice surprise for uncle Pacha.

Even though it would feel good in the moment, there was no need to expose the truth too early and destroy his brother’s plans. Not to mention, any attempt to uncover his uncle’s dirty secret were doomed to fail without the necessary proof. Despite years of effort, any hard evidence of his uncle’s heritage still eluded him. Thus, he decided to trust his brother and bow his head for now. At least it would also ruin the beast’s chances at success.

"This youngster is deeply disconsolate about his previous transgressions. With all respect required of his standing, Junior Amautu will defer to the judgment of the ancestors."

The old men around the table slowly nodded heads, though many brows were still furrowed. It seemed like Amautu’s words had been enough to appease them for now. He could forget about nomination, but at least his fate wasn’t sealed. Blowing up in their faces, even worse in front of other outsiders, would have been more than the vain old men would have been willing to bare. His fate would have been nothing short of exile if he hadn’t managed to calm down. Amautu turned to look back at his older brother. If nothing else, he appreciated Corco’s honest and capable nature.

More than anyone else, he had been playing by the rules so far. Amautu wouldn’t even hold his current defeat against Corco. Rather than his brother’s machinations, it had been his own arrogance which had caused his downfall. Unlike the puppeteered dullard of an uncle, he could respect Corco as a worthy adversary, if nothing else. He looked over to his competitor and gave him a short nod, to signal his gratitude. In return, Corco showed a sly grin and jerked his eyes over to the seats of the ancestors. It seemed like a good show was about to start. Amautu was looking forward to it. Truly.

"Thus, with no refutation, order is spoken. The Ancestral Hall rescinds consideration for Prince Amautu Secundu. The candidates to be considered as the future emperor of Medala will be Prince Corcopaca Primu and Prince-"

Throughout Acquilinus Ichilia’s speech, Amautu could see the face of Caelestis distort more and more heavily. Amautu followed the old man’s eyes back to his brother Corco, who replied his elder with a stoic mien. Finally, Caelestis broke the tension between the two as he interrupted the old Ichilia brute. Once again the actions were out of order and defied tradition, like so many things on this day had.

"One moment!"

The old man shrieked like a woman. Amautu had always been uncomfortable in the presence of the hyena. To him, it was fun to see the cowardly Caelestis squirm. Driven by something greater than his own weakness, the adulterer continued.

"Pachacutec Tertiu cannot be considered for the throne!"

Another burst of murmurs spread throughout the room as Amautu’s eyes opened wide. This was outrageous. At last, the always neutral Caelestis had spoken out for one of the princes. Just what had it been Corco and he had talked about up in the throne room? How could he side against the bastard, his own son? While Amautu didn’t understand, he relished in the man’s discomfort as much as in the outrage of his so-called family.

"Elder Pluritac, this is highly unusual! There is no good reason to exclude Prince Pacha from selection!"

"Elder Pluritac, how dare you!"

After Acquilinus’s interjection, Amautu’s mother got herself involved as well. She was about to launch into another of her ill-advised tirades, but Amautu could spot the warning look which was exchanged between the adulterers. His mother was nothing if not sly. He knew she would control her loud mouth, at least until her lover had finished his explanation.

"Elder Caelestis should have good reason for his actions. Otherwise, this master of ceremonies will be forced to exclude Elder from the ancestral assembly for the day."

Unlike his daughter, the old Ichilia had received no warnings and still tried to save his dear grandson’s hide. Amautu could guess well that by forcing Caelestis into a corner, the old man was playing right into Corco’s hands.

"This is not something to mention lightly, as the entire reputation of House Pluritac will be at risk. However, if this assembly wishes to avert a shameful decision today, this elder will have to bear the burden. The truth is: Shortly before his death, Emperor Titu suffered under horrible sickness and knew the end was near. Thus, he confessed his suspicion... that Prince Pacha was not his own."

The voices in the room swelled to heights rarely heard within the solemn hall. Amautu enjoyed the fluster of the fickle elders develop before his eyes. His shameless mother was once again fuming, ready to burst, but her lover’s warning was still fresh in her head. With what little self control she had, she managed to control her fury. Their son, however, was less quick on his feet and once again did his best to prove his status as the most obnoxious man in the room.

"This mighty hero refuses to accept this slander! There is no reason to believe any of this nonsense! The emperor was not in charge of his own faculties, cursed even! What would a confused old man know about anything? "

Spuria held onto her son’s sleeve, but in his self-righteous fury, he simply brushed her off and continued.

"What choice will the hall have left if this hero is excluded from succession based on slander? Will Medala sink so low as to be ruled by a southern wolf!? I demand-"

As his pompous uncle dug his own grave, Amautu’s mouth formed into a grin once again. Just a few sentences and the idiot had already vilified all the southern ancestors within the room. Amautu was sure that the hero’s incompetence wouldn’t end there, but his words were cut short by a singular sound from behind the seated ancestors.

Like the howl of an ancient dragon, from within the depths of the hall escaped a sigh which echoed throughout the chamber to silence any other noise. Even the arrogant hero stared up ahead, towards the rhythmic clacking sounds from the darkness behind the largest chair at the table, the seat for the grand ancestor. Slowly, from within the shadows, revealed itself an ancient walking stick and then the figure of a hunched, old man.

Though the length of his limbs spoke of the impressive stature of his youth, the years had folded his body and contorted him into a short, grotesque figure. The countless age spots and milky eyes did their best to confirm the man’s ancient nature, like a creature from a different time. Amautu knew that his first instinct was right, for he knew the creature well. The prince’s eyes were glued onto that old-familiar face. This should have been impossible.

"All bow for the grand ancestor. Elder Viribus Pluritac."

With the announcement of Acquilinus, all guests within the hall awoke from their stupor and kneeled on the ground. Amautu’s mind began to race again. How could this be? Before them stood Viribus Pluritac, former emperor of Medala, hero of the great storm one hundred years ago. This ancient beast should have died long ago. Back when the princes had still been together, before his and Corco’s exiles, they would visit the ancestor once a year, always on his birthday, but from one year to another, the visits had stopped. Amautu had been sure that his great-grandfather had perished, and yet before him stood a true hero of Medala, still defying death itself. With weary steps, the ancestor moved onto the grand seat and, with a heavy sigh, let himself down on top.

"All may rise."

The raspy voice of the ancestor echoed through the room. Amautu looked back up just in time to see the time-worn eyes land on his own face. The hairs on his arms stood on end. No matter how the old man’s eyes might look, he wasn’t blind yet, and his sight still had the aggressive edge of an apex predator. No one spoke. No one questioned the old man’s sudden arrival. As if it was natural, the grand ancestor began to adjudicate without explanation.

"Quite the pickle this elder finds before him. Three princes and not one proves suitable to take over the heavy burden. One lacks the manners and respect to wear the crown."

His eyes rested on Amautu a while longer, but at last left him and turned towards his left, over to Pacha.

"One who might well be a bastard, hidden by those bent on destruction of the noble Pluritac line. A small risk, but one which cannot be taken without deliberation."

Finally, the old man’s eyes fell onto Corco.

"One revoked of his status. The hall is not in the habit of giving out titles like candied fruits. Not to mention, this one has not been within Medala for years. For years he has not fulfilled his duties towards his elder and is thus just as unsuited as the others."

The elder concluded with another deep sigh. Amautu could guess just how much his older brother would be fuming by now. The ancestor’s final reasoning was complete nonsense. It was clear that the old man didn’t want Corco to succeed the throne, to Amautu’s satisfaction. It would give him another chance, even after all hope had been lost. However, the ancestors final words burst the hopes Amautu had held for a fair competition.

"With the Ancestral Hall unable to reach a conclusion, the decision will be put into the hands of their predecessor. Emperor Titu Caelestis Pluritac is to be sent on his last journey tomorrow, after nightfall. On the occasion, the Pachayawna will read the stars and divine the next emperor, so that peace may once again return to these lands. The law has been spoken. All guests shall leave the ancestral home."

With a short, hard tock of his stick onto the stone floor, Ancestor Viribus declared the end of the assembly without anyone’s consent. The nomination had been put aside until the next day, but everyone within the room knew exactly which name it was the old man would want the priests to see in the silver. Still, Amautu was not resigned. The ancient beast’s existence was the miracle he had needed. He had a fighting chance again. This time he was determined to take it.