Accompanied by a long sigh, the tall man with the sparse gray hair sank into his well-worn seat next to the hearth. For a few precious seconds, Elder Cauac looked into the fire, into the flickering flames which would dispel the freezing air of the outside world, before his view returned to the arrangements of seats around the fireplace within the main salon. He really didn't like how the seats had been arranged as two opposing rows, but that was an issue he would take up with the servants later. For now, he would deal with his own, who had reunited in his home, for the first time in seven years.

First, his focus was on his daughter-in-law and her firstborn, who had taken seat to his side. Opposite to them sat his remaining two grandsons, one of them the newly crowned king of the south, who sat with his female attendant. The other youngster, so similar to Sonco in looks, was the one he had such a heavy debt towards, they all did. Atau, the grandson who had been punished for all of his excellence. He would have loved to speak to the boy who had been sent away seven years ago through no fault of his own, but he couldn't avoid the proper etiquette. In the end, the king of the south was as much family as anyone else in the room, so greeting him would have to take priority.

“King Corco, this elder would like to welcome you to the Saqartu estate,” Cauac said as he leaned forward in his comfortable, upholstered chair to imitate a bow.

“Thanks. By the way, no need to play kings and lords when no one else is around. I wouldn't feel comfortable being talked up to by a man I've always admired.” A frank smile and a humble mind. Corco was as likable as the old man had remembered, a good kid.

“Corco it is then. This old man hopes your time overseas has been fruitful.”

“It wasn't bad,” the youngster said, with a look over to Atau, “Over there we've done pretty well for ourselves, all things considered. In Arcavia, my cousin has been a great help, just like he will be back home.”

A snort from the elder's side introduced a frown to Corco's face. Still too easy to read, but according to his son's last letters it was something he had improved on in the company of strangers. However, the disturbance was no stranger, but Corco's other cousin, Cauac's eldest heir Mayu.

“Why does all of this sound so hard to believe? As far as I understand, my brother, in his great competence, has been stuck inland for days and weeks. He has command over a thousand men and couldn't even make the journey through Sachay.”

“Mayu!” A slap onto the elder's armrest should shut the youngster up right quick. Though Mayu was the new Lord after Sonco's death, the elder's words still carried high weight within the house.

“What? It's true.” Contrary to Cauac's expectations, the brat raised his chin in defiance to Cauac's narrowed eyes, arrogant and self-assured. It seemed like he had treated the brat with far too much lenience for far too long.

“Don't believe your title of patriarch will let you do whatever strikes your fancy. Only once Corco had been crowned king did I hear about Atau's plight near Mayura. Don't tell me it was his fault, or his incompetence. There was ample time for reports to reach us and for us to confirm his identity. Never would the Ogulno folk have withheld information about an army commanded by a Saqartu.”

“How is he a Saqartu! He lost that noble name the moment he left Medala under the command of a prince. Now he's just a common warrior.”

Another hit made the solid wood of the armrest crack.

“Beast! How dare you slander your brother in such a manner! Have you no propriety? I know you hid the reports from me and your mother! You have acted against one of our own, and against the ruler of our kingdom! This is unacceptable! I ought to-”

“Ought to what!?!” Mayu said as he jumped up. Even now, the brat wouldn't back down. “I am the lord of Puscanacra. I am governor of the south. We don't need some northern prince to come down here and make our work for us. House Saqartu is more than capable of governing the south by itself. How dare he claim control with this made-up title?”

As Cauac's most worthless of grandsons berated the other two in his presence, the young man stretched his short head towards the ceiling, to make his meager stature appear more imposing. It was a posture he was quite used to. Cauac had seen Mayu do the practice in front of a mirror, far more than he had ever seen him with a training axe in hand. The elder was angry enough to explode, but the words were stuck in his throat as he could feel the vein on his forehead starting to throb. He could feel the heat rise to his face, from shame and anger upon the outrageous words.

“As for my younger brother, you should have done what all youngsters of Saqartu would do and become a warrior of the family. Maybe go into exile on one of the Theater Islands. Instead, you chose to become a traitor to Sachay, and join the oppressors of the imperial clan.”

The new lord of Puscanacra stood, ready for a fight, a challenge his brother was more than willing to accept. In imitation of his grandfather, Atau gripped his armrest with splintering force and pushed himself up, but the mild hand of Corco held him back, together with a short shake of the king's head. Right away, the warrior returned to his seat, and gave his brother a grin like a chained dog ready to pounce. Yet still, Mayu seemed oblivious to the danger.

“Look at them, thick as thieves, as they sit here pretending to be part of the family. You have sold your spirit to the north, brother, and for that you deserve to suffer. I will make sure that the south will remain as the land of the Sachay. I will-”

“Mayu Sonco Saqartu!” Finally, after the exchange had gone on for a while, the elder managed to catch his breath and regain enough strength to react. Thus, he did what Atau had been unable to. He jumped up and forced himself in between Mayu and the objects of his ire. Tall as he was, the elder looked down on his miscreant grandson, so talented, so smart, so unselfish in family matters. So full of virtue, and yet so flawed and ill at ease.

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“This will stop, now! Corco is your cousin, your aunt's son. Have you forgotten the summers he has spent here, together with you? Have you forgotten the marks he carries on his arms? So long as I remain in these halls, I will not hear words like these again, do you understand?”

For a second, only for a moment, the youngster dared to return his gaze, but soon he had turned back into the boy who had made gone wrong and was rightfully scolded by his elders for his mistake. Audible frustration in his voice, he answered, “I understand, grandfather.”

“You're excused. Go get yourself together,” the elder said in his sternest tone. With a short bow to his elder and then to his guests, the youngster turned and left the room behind in an awkward atmosphere.

With another sigh, Cauac turned to the three of his who were still seated. As he was standing, he fixed some damage which had been done before. He moved his chair, over from one side of the hearth, to the middle. At the same time, Corco's young attendant stood as well and helped him by doing the same to her own seat. Rather than a confrontation between two sides, now everyone sat together in a semi-circle, as it should have been. At last, the disturbance had been removed and the seats had been fixed, so the elder could try again to welcome to his own back to his hearth.

“Please excuse the brat. He has been very upset over the past few weeks.”

“Over what? He's got everything he's ever wanted. How is that still not enough?” Atau asked with wide eyes, his jaw protruding forth, ready for a fight of his own.

“...in the end, the appointment of three kings to rule the regions of Medala makes the title of governor worthless. You should have understood this as you suggested the compromise,” The elder replied in a saddened voice. He knew that Mayu's fight for power was unnecessary, and Corco was very much of the same opinion.

“But that's something we've considered. In the north it's no problem. There's still two major territories, split up between the Sallqatta Mountains, so the governors of the east and north can continue to rule as always. The western governor of Ichilia is under King Pacha's command, so he'd lose his power, but Pacha's just a puppet of the Ichilia clan anyways, so no one would complain about that. As for here...” Corco looked past the elder with a sad look on his face, towards the darkness Mayu had disappeared into. “...I thought it would be the same. We're allies anyways I thought. We could just work together and administer the south in unison. After all these years, it seems like there's many things I don't understand.”

With a sigh, the elder studied the grandson he had held the lowest expectations for. Even though he had always liked Corco for his kind and clever nature, the prince had been far too weak. Not only his physique but his spirit as well, as he kept running away from his troubles in the capital to the safe haven he had found here and in Saniya. However, his time away from Medala, in charge of his own, had truly made him a man. Corco's assessment was calm and fair, while he expressed a strong wish to work together, despite the brat's earlier rudeness. After so much leniency, Cauac owed his new king an answer, at the very least.

“I will control the brat, not to worry,” Cauac said. “He is still young, and has much to learn. Once he calms down and understands the dangers we will soon face together, I guarantee that he will be your firmest ally. And forget about that nonsense he has said before. Mayu is just being petty, as always. You are family, as much as anyone.”

“Bullshit.” Another interruption, again from Atau, made the elder's eyes shoot over to his seat. Tense and ready to leave at a moment's notice, the younger of Sonco's sons still had his hands clawed into his armrests. “Mayu's right. I gave up on this family as soon as I lost the name Saqartu. Make no mistake, I'm not one of yours. Not anymore.”

The youngster managed to resist his stern look, much better than Mayu ever had. Defiant, he stared at him, challenging him to contradict the words, to start a fight.

“Then what is it that brings you here?” the elder asked instead. At his age, he had learned to pick his battles. Putting the headstrong Mayu in his place was part of his duties, but the debt they all carried towards Atau was far too big. Direct opposition would only have the opposite effect.

“It's not for a chat, that's for damn sure. I'm here to see my father, one last time. Is that possible, as a member of the family?”

“Of course,” Cauac ignored the bitterness in his grandson's voice. “Guanca, would you be so dear and lead your son?”

“As father wishes.” With the same composure as always, Sonco's strong wife stood and accompanied her son out of the hall, over to the family tomb where Sonco was being readied for his final journey. Throughout the entire exchange, Corco moved not one inch, beyond giving a meaningful nod to his cousin as the latter stood to leave.

“You won't go along with them, Corco?” the elder asked.

“You know anything about what's been happening up in northern Sachay?” Rather than answer the question, the new king of the south asked his own, a good way to avoid further awkwardness. Cauac was more than willing to play along with the youngsters game.

“It seems like the Villca brood is about to take itself apart in expert fashion. There are at least three strong claimants to the title. In addition to them there is the bandit who commands his own fleet and army.”

Corco nodded, knowingly. Still, the king was more interested in his own lands.

“Yeah, I saw that when we shipped through there. I'm talking about Saniya in particular though.”

With a frown, the elder tried to organize his thoughts on the matter. “We have not heard much from Saniya in recent months. Not since the new administrator was appointed.

“By the Ichilias,” Corco added.

“...yes, by the Ichilias. To our misfortune, it was not something we could prevent without risking a second War of the Isles. Saniya is imperial land, after all. Still, you should be careful when you deal with the new administrator. My men tell me that he has increased the number of warriors within Saniya by unreasonable measure. To top it all off, our merchants along the Mayura have suffered from frequent bandit attacks out of Chawir, with no action from Saniya.”

“...enemies in my own court. Pacha and Amautu in the north, Villca in the east. Not to mention, the cahlian and bornish merchants won't give up so easily, not now that they're so close to their precious trade route.”

“Not to forget, the Chutwa have made repeated troubles for our people. The so-called pirate plague is nothing but an excuse to exert their power and turn us into a tributary. No matter how much they wish for it, the empire will not bow to anyone!”

To answer the elder's spirited words, Corco leaned back in his seat and stared into the flames. Soon, a smile formed on his lips.

“As the great poet Harvey Dent once said: The night is darkest just before the dawn.”

Though he did not know who the great poet was, his meaning was clear as a mountain lake. Following his king's gaze, the elder looked into the hearth, where the fire of Puscanacra had begun to lose in strength already. The cold was closing in around them.

“In this case, I hope to see such a dawn, King Corco.”