Several minutes before the two great lightning strikes shocked all of Rapra square, the recently reclusive King Corco was standing inside his castle’s entrance, hidden by shadows, and observed the crowd. Front and center, right in front of the entrance, sat the arrogant new masters of the city.
This silly league of lords, as well as their priest allies, seemed really eager to show off. They were laughing, drinking and shouting, a loud and obnoxious bunch that disrupted the fun of everyone else around them.
Now that they had the upper hand for once, even if only for a moment, they started acting like cartoon villains. Maybe Corco had pressed them too hard over the past few years, so they were eager to vent their frustration, but it didn’t really matter. Soon, they would be quiet and docile for good. All the king had to do was give the final order.
However, at the moment he wasn’t particularly interested in them. At least for today, the nobles and priests in charge of Saniya weren’t the protagonists, and had no impact on the outcome of today’s festival. If anything, Corco only really cared how the lower-ranked warriors underneath that central tarp would react to his entrance. Though even then, other two groups beside them were far more important to him.
To the left of the nobles sat a collection of various respected Saniya citizens. Most of them were important officials from his own castle, others included the craftsmen in charge of the royal manufactories, as well as the various bankers who were working with Brym’s finance department to control the flow of money in the city.
These people were the basis of his kingdom, the foundation from which he drew his power, and the foundation for Medala’s inevitable rise in the near future. Over the past months of constant siege and bombardment from all sides, as Corco shrank back in his castle to silently prepare for his counterattack, even they had begun to waver, which had affected the mood of the entire city.
If he wanted to retain his power and go any further with his plans, he needed to regain their trust, so he had given them a key vantage point in the crowd to observe the coming spectacle. Some of them vaguely knew what Corco had planned while others were ignorant, but it didn’t matter either way.
Whether they were aware of Corco’s tricks or not, after today, they would regain their confidence in their king’s abilities, which would ripple down to their workers and employees, and inject the entire city with new vigor.
Though in regards to spreading his message, the group to the right of the lords was even more important. There sat many young faces in blue robes, priests from all over the empire, who had come here to witness this most special of solstice festivals.
However, they weren’t the same loudmouths who had been making trouble in his kingdom over the past month. Rather, they had come here quietly, without anyone’s notice, and they were still quietly watching the changes around them. Even their robes were deliberately chosen to be simple and humble, which set them apart from the ostentatious robes of the doomsayers.
All of them were people that Watachay had won over to his own cause over the past year, young priests who believed in similar things as them, those who could be turned ally to revolutionize the Pacha faith.
Like Corco and Watachay, they also believed that the priests should be more concerned with the spiritual well-being of the people, instead of the deeper and deeper involvement in politics that the high priests were aiming for. After the festival, these people would return to their hometowns all over the empire, and tell of what they would have seen today. For the king, that made them free propaganda.
However, Corco didn’t feel bad about using them. If everything went according to his plans, these outsiders within the priesthood would be Medala’s spiritual leaders in the future. In that regard, they could be considered lucky to have received their invitations to the festival.
In contrast to the king’s optimism, the one who had invited them looked worried. Next to Corco stood Watachay, who awkwardly plucked away at his new clothes.
“You look uncomfortable. Is there anything bothering you?” the king asked. In response, the priest jumped a little, as if he had forgotten that there was someone else next to him. Finally, Watachay forgot about his clothing for a second and looked up at the king.
“No, nothing,” he replied with a smile that told Corco otherwise. “Only, this strange dress is a bit unfamiliar.”
Although it was an obvious excuse, it really wasn’t a bad one. Their new clothes were pretty unusual after all. Both Corco and Watachay wore full-body chain mails, even more extreme than Corco’s usual defenses. However, while the king once again wore his on the outside of a purple robe, the priests was hidden underneath his own priest garment. It made him look bulky, and it was no doubt uncomfortable to wear. To complete the look, both also wore a thin frame of eight wires that spanned around their heads in a wide arc.
Though while their dress was strange, it clearly wasn’t the reason for the priest’s discomfort.
“You know, if you have a problem with this plan, now’s the last chance to say it,” Corco said. Again, the priest looked uncomfortable as he tucked at his robes to win some time. After some more prolonged silence, he finally spoke up.
“King Corco, is there really no other way?” he asked in the end.
“You’re not really trying to run away, right?” the king asked back in slight disbelief. “Not now?”
Again, the priest suffered through an uncomfortable silence before he replied.
“I understand that there is no more time to change the plans, and that the things we will do are things that need to be done. However, they are the head priests of the Pacha faith after all.”
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“That doesn’t make them immune from criticism,” Corco replied in a dry tone. “They riled up my people. They tried to cause a rebellion in my kingdom. They worked with outside forces and abused their influence to take us apart. We’re only fighting back. We’re in the right here.”
“However, deception cannot be the way. Otherwise we would be the same as them. Should there not be a better answer to our troubles than tricking the people of the city into believing us? Why not try to convince the people of the city through argument instead?”
About a month ago, when Corco had sat by himself in his retreat inside the castle, he had entertained similar thoughts. Now however, all the hesitation and doubt was gone. All he could feel was excitement, as well as a mild tension.
Maybe Watachay’s own worried appearance had helped Corco calm down. Now that there was someone who was even more of a mess and needed to be calmed down, the king didn’t even have time to worry about his own nerves anymore. Thus, he tried to dispel Watachay’s worries by explaining their precarious position.
“That’s not a viable solution. As a priest, you should know that better than me.”
There was no need for Corco to explain any more, since both of them knew the influence the Pacha priesthood had among the Yaku. Still, Corco kept talking to take Watachay’s mind off his worries.
“The people in the city are scared because of all the propaganda from the priests. That’s the truth. We can fight their bullshit with reason, and explain calmly why they’re wrong and we’re right. But we’re not gonna win. They’ve been an authority on bullshit for centuries. Most people trust them more than us, especially the older folks. So at best, we end up convincing the younger people, that’s all.”
“That would be a start, at least. Why not try this method, and first win over some young people to our cause? Then we can slowly expand the influence of our views through them, until we have convinced everyone in the city.”
Confronted with the priest’s idealism, Corco just shook his head. Watachay was really thinking too simply.
“But that way, we’re splitting the city in two,” the king explained. “And then things get ugly. The main problem is that we don’t have time to slowly convince people. We’re not operating in a vacuum. There’s plenty of enemies around us, and at least two of them are working with the priests to create chaos in the city. Meanwhile, all of them are only waiting for our civil strive to start up so they can pounce on us. That’s the entire point of priests’ operations, right? So if we fight back with conventional methods, we’re playing right into their hands, and can only lose.”
This time Watachay had nothing to say in reply.
“Worst of all, the priests have those damn lightning strikes that keep hitting the castle,” Corco continued. “For them, it’s the perfect proof of our guilt. Even if we argue that we’ve not been cursed by the heavens, what do we do if people simply ask why we are getting hit by lightning all the time? Before arguing against that, we may as well be fighting windmills.”
In anticipation, Corco looked over for a response to his joke, but only received a blank stare.
Right, no Don Quixote, he just thought, before he continued.
“So there’s only one clean solution to our problem: We need a complete reversal, all at once. In front of a massive audience representing the entire empire, we twist the evidence of the high priests around to show them up as the frauds they are. We make it so obvious that even the priests in the city can’t argue against it without seeming disingenuous and losing support within the populace. That’s our only way out of this mess. Because only in this way can we resolve our internal problems all at once, before any of our enemies get any chance to take advantage of our division. Plus, there’s some unpleasant traditions that I wanted to clear out anyways, before we start to reorganize the country. Otherwise that stuff will always be part of our culture, and it’ll always hold us back as a society.”
Even though Corco felt his mouth dry out from all the talking, Watachay still didn’t look convinced.
“However, these traditions have been upheld for generations, ever since the days of our ancestors,” he said. “Will the people simply change their beliefs like that, from one day to the next?”
“Seeing is believing, as they say… as I say, I guess.” Corco shrugged. “When they see it with their own eyes, they’ll draw their own conclusions. And in the face of a miracle, there won’t be many different conclusions to draw. In the face of all that end times talk, many are hoping for a reversal anyways, for a positive sign from the heavens. So let’s give them one. Plus, the people are already expecting miracles from me anyways, after everything else that’s happened these years. So this is actually something many might be expecting, deep down. In the end, they’ll convince themselves. We won’t have to do a thing.”
“Yet there should still be a better way than to simply lie to the people, should there not? Lies cannot, and should not, be the foundation of belief.”
One by one, the priest was simply voicing out concerns that Corco himself had held only a few days prior. Now however, strangely, the king didn’t feel any apprehension anymore. The more he talked to the priest, the more he was forced to reflect on his plans. And the more he did so, the calmer he got. When faced with the biggest lie he would ever tell, he had thought that there would be at least some amount of stage fright, but he was completely calm.
“Worst case, we’ll just go down in history as criminals and cheats,” he said. That was a real option, but after some thought over the past months, he no longer cared about personal glory. “So long as the people believe our lie in the moment, so long that lie brings them on a good path, brings our kingdom into the future, and brings us farther on the path of progress, I can live with a little bit of infamy. Now, the question is, can you? I honestly don’t mind if you drop out, even now. I can just go out there by myself. Though I’d still prefer if you spoke for me at first, like we prepared. After what happened this time, I’d really prefer to keep religion and state separate, if you know what I mean.”
At this moment, Corco could tell what would be going on in the priest’s head. For a few seconds, Corco could feel the priest struggle as he would weigh his belief in the traditions that had been part of his earlier education – and had even encompassed his entire life as an apprentice priest – against the necessity for change. Weighed the comfort of an easy path against the difficulties of a rocky road. Finally, Watachay came to a decision, and his face firmed up.
“No, I understand. King has already sacrificed too much. At least for once, let this mortal carry part of the burden.”
Although Corco wanted to slap the priest’s shoulder and thank him for his support, there were two things that prevented him from doing so. First, the strange suits both of them were stuck in were extremely stiff. With all the metal on his body, it was hard to even raise his arm properly. Second, before he could say or do anything, a lightning strike illuminated Rapra Square, before it disappeared in Rapra Castle’s lightning rod, like all the ones before it.
Although it came unexpected, Corco wasn’t as shocked as the people in the crowd outside. Rather, his previous tranquility grew into excitement again. The lightning had come as a surprise, but this time, it was finally a pleasant one. For once, he really felt like the heavens were on his side. With this lightning as a backdrop, their message would be even stronger. They would never get a better chance to perform than this.
Now or never, he thought, before he gave the orders that would change his country forever.
“Turn on the tesla coils,” he shouted to his helpers in the castle. “We’re going out!”