Enlightened Empire

Compared to the revelry which surrounded his younger brother, the atmosphere among Prince Amautu’s entourage couldn’t have been more distinct. When Corco entered the alcove, everyone in the second prince’s camp sat in neat groups of three or four. Across each table rang conversations, yet the quiet exchanges never left the confines of their immediate surroundings. Some guests wouldn’t engage their neighbors at all and instead look outside to watch the performances on offer.

Amautu himself sat not in the center of the space, but towards the back, hidden behind his followers. With the strange way the men in his surroundings were dressed, Corco assumed that many of them would be from Chutwa rather than being Medala nobles. A table away, he spotted the green prince Wacoca and his sister, who should have been placed there by Spuria. Even so, Amautu ignored the presence of his prospective wife and brother-in-law, too immersed in the words of a small, gray-bearded Chutwa man to his side. As Corco approached his brother’s table, his presence was ignored just the same.

"Brother, thank you for attending my banquet. And thank you for your congratulations. I’ve come to repay the favor." Unperturbed by his brother’s indifference, Corco bellowed out his greetings. Amautu, his concentration broken, looked at his brother with a frown.

"In a public setting Prince Corco would be advised to adhere to proper etiquette." Corco’s less than formal greeting did not go over well with his brother, as had the interruption it had caused.

"Sorry for bursting in like that, I didn’t want to interrupt anybody, but I think that between brothers, we should be able to let loose. I hate those stiff formalities. All it does is create distance. It’s idiotic."

"Prince would do well to rethink his words. Ceremony has value inherent in itself. To abandon ceremony means to walk down the path to barbarity," the old man next to Amautu barged in on the talk between the brothers.

"Prince Corco, please meet my teacher, the great scholar Ichtaka." As Amautu’s face lit up, the scholar offered a restrained nod in greeting. Meanwhile, Corco tried to remember what eastern he had seen him in, in a different life. Ichtaka’s entire being screamed ’wise old man from the mountain’.

"Right. Hello. You’re wrong, but it’s still nice to meet you." Though the prince didn’t think much of the disagreement, the table went silent for several uncomfortable seconds, as if he had announced that the sky wasn’t blue. While Corco still tried to understand the overreaction, the third man at his brother’s table bit back.

"As expected of a man who would disrespect his mother and shame his brother. There is no respect for ceremony either. You do not deserve to call yourself prince, barbarian." Considering the middle-aged man’s accent and his long hair, he seemed to be from Medala. Before, Corco had been thrown off by the white bathrobe and beard combo which was so typical of the western scholars.

"Now, now, fellow Tacao. No need to judge too soon. Let us hear my brother out," Amautu calmed his ally. At the same time, Corco’s eyes narrowed, unwilling to take abuse from some random stranger.

"Are you saying I can’t criticize my own younger brother when he hasn’t respected his dead father in six months... and then mocks his death in public? Spuria Ichilia is not my mother either, if you haven’t realized. I have no reason to respect that woman just because she somehow sneaked a ’mother’ into her official title."

"Rather than rush ahead like a mad bull, prince should have phrased his chastisement through proper etiquette. Family relations are complex, and it is often difficult to tell which acts would be appropriate where. Only through ceremony can we determine how to take action without a loss of order. When one chides a brother, one should do so in a measured fashion. If one has been determined as one’s mother, one should serve them accordingly, with respect and love. If all follow ceremony, would it not create peace and harmony?" After he was done with his little speech, Tacao looked over to see the old teacher nod his head again. However, Corco was eager to interupt their little circle-jerk. He really couldn’t let their nonsense stand.

"Right. So your ceremony is gonna govern every aspect of everyone’s life? At that point we’re nothing more than machines. I have looked into your books, you know? Some of them at least. Your view on ethics is as disgusting as it is sneaky."

"How surprising that a man who even failed to be admitted to a barbarian school would so confidently refute the great teachings of the ancients!" When he arrived at the table, Corco had already noticed the fidgety warrior behind Amautu, just like he had noticed the little gesture his brother had given to force the man into action.

"Oh, is this not Quirinu di Pluritac? How surprising that Prince Amautu would let a simple warrior sit at his table, let alone a deserter." As soon as he saw the man, Primus went on the attack. Once he had heard about Fadelio’s run-in with his fellow warrior, the young master had insisted on a detailed description of the traitor.

Rather than let his newest followers speak again, this time Amautu stepped in himself.

"Warrior Quirinu sits at the table on my request. This prince was interested in brother’s time on the Arcavian continent. In fact, Warrior Quirinu tells illuminating tales about brother’s studies abroad. He told us how brother would not be allowed entry into the foreigner’s academy, for they had determined his lack of knowledge. How brother would then be forced to become servant to a lowly merchant, of all things. How he abandoned the warriors under his command to save himself. These allegations are disturbing indeed. Would you not agree, brother?"

"An outright lie!" Primus shot back. "How could the word of a mere warrior weigh more heavy than the word of a prince?"

"This prince has no reason to doubt the warrior’s report. What possible reason could he have to tell lies?"

When Primus took another step forward, about to refute, Corco pulled him back. Throughout the conversation, a dark grin had sneaked onto Corco’s face, in defiance of the utter hypocrisy before him. This one, he would handle in person.

"You’re kidding me, right? You’re talking about the warrior who was sent into exile in service of the crown prince, then betrayed that crown prince, then ran back home, got that crown prince’s title and status removed by lying about the prince’s death. Now he serves the second in line of succession and lives in an enormous mansion he was gifted his new master. Yes, what possible reason could he have to make sure I would never get back into power?"

"No one can know what exactly happened abroad, so none of prince’s accusations can be confirmed."

"None? Really? So he doesn’t live in the former great general’s mansion, who happens to have been my attendant’s father? So he didn’t lie to the Ancestral Hall about my death?"

For a second, Corco’s eye began to twitch, brought to a boil by his brother’s bullshit. Now more than ever, he was determined to take everything they threw at him, and fling it right back into their faces.

"Of course these matters need to be determined, just like brother’s status and education should."

"Good, then let’s determine them right now. How about it? I debate your good teacher over there to see whether or not my education is sufficient."

"There is no need to bother teacher Ichtaka with some insignificant youngster. I will debate Prince Corco," Tacao asid as he stood from his seat.

"Sure. Let’s go with ethics and ceremony, since that’s something we have already determined to disagree on. We’ll have the other lords determine the winner. If I lose, my good brother, will get his wish and have me admit my lack of education. If I win, I’ll have you hand me the traitor, to punish appropriately."

At the mention of the stakes, Quirinu’s eyes went wide in panic. He knew Corco much better than anyone else on the table, so he would never believe that the first prince would make such a bet without ensured victory.With a whisper, he tried to get involved.

"Maybe Master Amautu should rethink-"

"This Prince agrees. Brother should use this chance and be enlightened by the wisdom of the ancients."

Even so, Quirinu’s attempts failed.

"In that case, this Lord will be in your care," Tacao said, accompanied by a proper bow.

"Lord?" Surprised by the term, Corco took a good look at his opponent for the first time. A bad feeling crept up his stomach, as if he had danced to someone else’s tune the entire time.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Corco. Lord Tacao Calvu Betucio gives his greetings."

As he looked over to his brother’s sly grin, Corco’s stomach sank. In his anger and overconfidence, he had just agreed to publicly oppose Medala’s Governor of the North.

__________________________

After the foreign invasion from the north, called the great storm, had been held off by the nobles of Medala under the leadership of the Pluritac clan one hundred years ago, the imperial court in Arguna had taken full control over the country. In order to consolidate their power, the Pluritacs installed four governor families to rule the four corners of the empire. Lord Saliena at Porcero governed the east, Lord Ichilia, Spuria’s brother, governed the west and Corco’s uncle Sonco governed the south. At the moment, the Governor of the North sat opposite of Corco.

Once the debate had been announced, the young artists had been forced to free up the stage on the central court. They had been replaced by two simple chairs, on which sat the two opponents, Corco and Tacao. All eyes of the surrounding lords and ladies rested on them in anticipation, Amautu’s more than anyone’s.

"Master, was this truly wise?" Quirinu’s voice quivered, his eyes always focused on Corco’s calm posture.

"In fact, I believe it was perfect. I had laid out quite the trap for my brother, but to think he would be so rattled as to jump into it all by himself. Now, once my brother shows his ignorance in public, your words will get the recognition they deserve. At that point, I can offer brother to keep quiet about his merchant past in return for his support. When we add my older brother’s camp to my own forces, we can overwhelm the idiot’s side with ease. Not even my uncle will be able to change that. Even if he somehow manages to look good, he will still show himself in direct opposition with a governor of the empire. With both Ichilia and Betucio as his enemies, he should realize the futility of his claim and accept my offer."

"A brilliant plan, master," the sweaty Quirinu said as he looked onto Governor Betucio who was about to finish up his opening speech. In unimpressive, but effective fashion, he had done nothing but repeat his earlier words to condemn Prince Corco’s tactless actions towards his family.

"Would these actions not call into question one’s character? For as the ancients teach: ’Among those who are filial toward their parents and fraternal toward their brothers, those who are inclined to offend against their superiors are few indeed. Among those who are disinclined to offend against their superiors, there have never been any who are yet inclined to create disorder. The gentleman concerns himself with the root. When the root is established, the Way is born. Being filial and fraternal - is this not the root of humaneness?’"

While the governor had gone on his ad hominem attack, Prince Corco was still seated, legs crossed and healthy arm in his lap.

"I didn’t know I stood on trial here. Even if you question my ability to rule, subservience to others has nothing to do with being a ruler," he replied calmly.

"If one wishes to rule, one should first understand submission. Even the mightiest emperor was once but a simple prince. With parents, elders and siblings he was beholden to obey and honor. Without the ability to follow, how would he have the chance to rule?"

"So you keep saying." Corco raised an eyebrow. "Though after careful consideration, here is my elaborate refutation: Why though? You say that a ruler needs to learn how it feels to be ruled first? Wars for the noble seating furniture of your choice are a bloody struggle. Every single time. Wouldn’t the ones who follow rules have an inherent disadvantage? So going by that logic, wouldn’t the ones who do not follow the rules come out ahead more ofteh than not? You say that being filial and fraternal is, what, the ’root of humaneness’? Are you saying someone without parents or siblings can’t be a good person? That humaneness is born only and exclusively through education? So humans are born evil? That’s a bold claim to make, just like that and out of the blue. Why would I believe that? Or anyone for that matter?"

"The wisdom of the ancients are not to be questioned. If one does not understand the ancient truths behind their words, one would simply show oneself to lack proper study." Throughout his lightning response, Governor Betucio smiled like a benevolent teacher, ready to educate a stubborn student. Amautu smiled with him. Things had developed just as hoped.

Although Corco had retained his calm so far, his opponent didn’t make it easy for him. He really didn’t want to deal with Betucio’s cultist nonsense. The old governor was right just because he was old? What a ludicrous claim! As he breathed in, ready to curse up a storm again, his eyes met with the collection of lords in the alcoves around. Within the central group, Spuria laughed at her brother’s comments, while both of them gave Corco a smile of pure mockery. However, hidden in the back, he found his sister’s worried face as well. As Corco glanced around to the different lords in the yard, their expectant faces proved that an explosion was just what they wanted.

"A place of calm, huh?" Corco mumbled to himself as he recounted his sister’s words from before. Thus he ignored the crowd around him and looked up into the sky. Night had already set over the courtyard, and yet not a single star could. Somehow, he could feel himself look beyond lights of the banquet, the smog of the capital and the clouds in the sky, until he saw them again: The stars he had played music with back on Mount Urquna. For a while he just paused and breathed there, in his place of calm. When he looked back down to the Governor of the North, only seconds had passed, but he had found his peace. With a deep voice and a worried face, the prince spoke up at last.

"I understand what you’re trying to say. The writings of your scholars have survived millennia, so they have to contain some... profound truths, that’s the argument. But I never found that to be self-evident, or even true. Things don’t stick around for long because they’re true. Things stick around because someone values them. Like a family keepsake." Corco looked over to Betucio who had begun to think over his words. Happy to see his opponent follow along, he put down the next claim. "The ones who value those scriptures are the scholars. Because with these texts, they can shape the rules of society however they see fit."

"The Teachers do not shape any rules. They simply interpret the ancient writings left by the great scholars of the past," Betucio replied.

"You should’ve read those ancient writings yourself, right? From what I can gather, they’re nebulous at best. The whole thing is full of obvious contradictions. I suspect they’ve been set up like that on purpose. That way, the scholars can just make the scriptures mean whatever they want."

"How dare you slander the great Way!" This time, it was Betucio’s turn to lose control. Under clatter, his chair fell over backwards as he stood and pointed at Corco with trembling hands. Even then, the prince remained seated, remained calm.

"According to the Teachings, you can’t change the status you are born with, is that right?" he probed,.

"That is correct. Everything has its proper place from birth." Although he still frowned, at least Betucio seemed receptive to arguments. It would be Corco’s chance to uncover the incongruent teachings of the Way.

"But anyone can become a scholar if he passes an examination, you’re not born a scholar. How is that not a contradiction? All relationships are always reciprocal, built on a give and take, but fathers have complete, unchecked power over their sons. You should treat your ruler like you treat your father, but you should also lie for your father if he has committed a crime against his lord. As a good person, you should forgive faults and pardon crimes, and yet scholars are obligated to point out any faults and crimes they can find in their superiors. Don’t those sound like contradictions to you?"

Although he seemed flustered, Betucio clenched his jaws and stuck to his script.

"The Teachings contain no contradictions for a true scholar! Only decades of careful study will reveal the truth in its entirety!"

"If A equals one and A equals three, then A equals nothing. If you have two opposing statements, you can never reconcile them, even if you spend a million years in contemplation. That’s how contradictions work. Which is convenient, because like this, scholars can interpret anything they want from within that confusing mess. If they need a ’one’ they can say it’s one, and if they need a ’three’ they can say it’s three."

"Why, then, would so many greats devote their lives to spread the Teachings of The Way? Is Prince’s implication that he has more wisdom than all the greats combined?" Betucio’s lips raised in a sneer of derision.

"As a lord of Medala, you should already know the answer. As with so many things, the scholars don’t want to educate the people. It’s a power grab."

"No scholar would ever be interested in worldly matters like power."

"Is that so? Then answer me this: Who gets to interpret the emperor’s actions according to the Way and tell him what is just and what is not?"

"...of course the most qualified would." As his mouth sank again, a frown spread on the lord’s face.

"So who is the most qualified then?"

"..."

"The Scholars are." Corco looked around the yard to let his answer sink in before he continued. "In an ideal society according to The Way, who is the highest social class, according to the Teachings?"

"That’s..." again, the lord’s frown deepened. It appeared that despite his poor convictions, the governor was no fool, ready to see his own faults.

"Right, it’s the scholars again. Now you might ask: This sounds great, but how do I become a scholar? That’s easy. You just pass the imperial examination. Who is in charge of the imperial examination?"

"The scholars are," Betucio’s deep voice rang over the yard.

"What do they test?" For once, Corco decided to answer the more difficult question by himself. "They test the students on the Teachings. On whether or not they interpret them the same way as everyone else does."

"Even if this were true, what could be wrong about the most knowledgeable of the empire assisting the rulers in their duty?"

"It’s wrong because they don’t lose anything when the country fails. If I become emperor and drive the country into the ground, I die. My whole family dies. That’s the deal. So I best make sure to rule well and guarantee stability and progress. If the so-called scholars screw up, they can just blame the former emperor’s lack of virtue and any new ruler will be happy to use them again to confirm his own legitimacy.

"Look at Chutwa. That place has not seen any progress in hundreds of years, because the scholars have cryogenically frozen that country of theirs, to make sure they can stay in charge forever... but time stops for no one. Complete standstill in a constantly moving world is a recipe for disaster. At one point, not far from now, they will be left behind by the future, and their once great empire will collapse, to make place for the next dynasty under full control of the scholars."

With the governor stunned, Corco stood and moved towards the front of the stage. He would address the listeners directly. This part was for them.

"Earlier tonight, when I talked to Lord Villca, I said that the empire is threatened. I don’t think he believed me and I don’t think most in here would. After what you have heard just now, maybe you will be more inclined to believe. A great change is coming to these parts. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing. We should embrace this chance to take the best from both corners of the world. That’s how I see it, and that was how my father saw it as well. One hundred years ago, my great grandfather Viribus Pluritac united the estates to fight back the foreign invaders from the north. Only united and under great sacrifice, our ancestors managed to beat back the invaders and return peace to our lands. But it came at a price. While the rest of the world has been moving, we have been holed up in our fortress, too afraid to change our ways. Now, after one hundred years, others have once again come to these shores, both from the east and the west, and with them they have brought new ideas, technologies, innovations. They can be a great boon for the Medala Empire. It is up to us to decide which of these ideas we want to adopt and which we want to repel.

"Yet here we sit, too busy fighting among ourselves while the greediest men from the outside have come first to take from us what they desire, be it wealth or power! While we sit, neatly split into our seperate corners, they’ve divided up the spoils in their heads already. Now we can band together, like we once did, to oppose this conquest no less violent than the one in those days. Or we can give in to our greed, and leave our children in chains. As you ignore the plight of the country in favor your family’s interests, consider this: If a hunter only looks at his own game to protect it, he might one day look up and find the entire forest burnt to the ground."

The courtyard was dead quiet. Prince Corco’s counterattack had finally begun. Only a frightened squeal from the left brought life back to the proceedings. When Corco followed the sound, he saw his old servant Quirinu, as he stared at him in shock. Both men knew that Corco had won the debate, and both men knew what that meant for the warrior. With a grin, Corco stepped down the stage to march towards his former follower, under an ever-growing flood of claps around him.

Before he could close in on Quirinu, he was passed off by multiple lords, ready to congratulate him. All he could do was smile through their obstruction, while he watched Quirinu stumble back and flee into the depths of the mansion, followed by Amautu’s men. He just hoped Amautu would prove more honorable than Pacha.