Scenario:Percival - From the Ground Up

From the Ground Up

Percival officially succeeds the east district. Aglovale explains that he dispatched his brother to the small province—largely populated by working-class families—so the young lord could turn his compassion for the underprivileged into action.

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After receiving a letter from his eldest brother, Percival journeys back to his hometown of Wales.

Beneath the fine vaulted ceilings of Wales Castle, Aglovale explains that, between state governance and dealing with the cabal, his attentions have been stretched to breaking point.

Percival agrees to take over management of the east district, at least until Aglovale has managed to pick through the tangled spider's web left by the cabal's workings.

The two brothers travel to the east district to officiate the succession.

Noble: What an honor it is to host not only my lord Percival, but also your most excellent highness. I hope the journey was not too tiresome?

Aglovale: Not as tiresome as the writs of succession I'd have needed to pen, had I not come in person. In any case, I have business at a family villa which stands nearby.

Noble: Well, I am honored nonetheless. And my lord Percival—all of Wales rejoices at your safe...

Noble: ...!
Forgive me. I was so taken by your magnificence, words escaped me. I see you've acquired a new suit of armor.

Percival: Yes. By a strange circumstance.

He explains.

Days earlier, Percival had been in pursuit of a fleet-footed Harvin, when he fell into a large hole behind the castle.

There, he met Cath Palug—a silver-haired beast also known as "the demoncat of Wales."

This creature had formed a pact with Percival's forefathers generations ago. Now, to execute its terms, it proposed a test for the young lord...

Cath Palug: How do you wish to build your country?

Percival: I wish to build up a country where the lives of all citizens are equal. A peaceful place where even the weak can live securely.

Percival: I understand that this will not be an easy task. By attempting to save everyone at once, I could end up endangering others.

Percival: That is why I have vassals whom I can trust will help me reach my ideal. We swore to work together to make it a reality.

Cath Palug felt deep into Percival's mind, seeking like a surgeon for any infirmities in his will or thinking.

Finding none, it declared the trial conquered, rendering unto Percival a new sword and suit of armor.

Cath Palug: This is a special sword that will enhance your flames. Without proper control its fire will consume even its wielder—however, that should not be a problem for you.

Cath Palug: May you always keep the noble flame in your heart alight, Percival, Lord of Flames.

Percival: This armor is forged proof of my will. One day, my ideals will be as solid as the cloth and metal you see before you.

Aglovale: (Still on his ideals...)

Noble: I do not doubt it. And it is only right that so fine a raiment should bedeck so grand a lord.

Niceties over with, the men set about formalizing Percival's inheritance of the east district. The noble wraps up with a quick rundown of the jurisdiction.

Noble: And so concludes my briefing. Are there any other points you'd like to discuss?

Percival: No, but many I should like to see. A journey to the district will tell me what a library of words cannot.

Noble: Lord Percival, pardon my boldness, but... You may not find the east district to your liking.

Percival: What do you mean by that?

Noble: Well, it really isn't the most affluent of communities...

Aglovale: Enough. You waste your breath, speaking to Percival of this matter. It was I who gave him the post.

Aglovale: My lord, I can see your mind. You wonder why, of all our territories, I dispatched him to the east district—poor in land, in treasure, and in influence.

Aglovale: "Is this not a mark of the king's displeasure?" you postulate. Have I not banished him to the marches of Wales because I do not trust him?

Noble: Y-your Highness, I do confess...

Percival: Brother. There is no need to speak daggers—

Aglovale: Hold your tongue and listen.

Aglovale: First, we must consider prudence. The larger the province, the longer it takes to ensure a smooth succession. Mistakes become more costly.

Aglovale: But I did not send my brother here to avoid cost.

Aglovale: Percival has aspirations. Ideals that stand in contrast to mine. He believes nations are raised from the ground up—not through great power, but through the small efforts of ordinary people.

Aglovale: Do you see now? My brother is not here because I despaired of him. He is here because I have faith in him.

Percival: ...!

Noble: Forgive me, your highness. I was too blind to see the grace and wisdom that lay behind your—

Aglovale: There is no need for apologies. Your thoughts only went where logic led them.

Aglovale: But Percival is the sort of man who would wade through mud to save a pair of drowning sisters.

Aglovale: Unlike you and I, he is not ruled by logic. Obstinance, yes. Compassion as well—perhaps too much of it. And virtue above all.

Aglovale: As for the east district, he shall polish this lump of coal into a diamond. I swear it upon my honor as king.

Noble: Well then. I swallow my words and wait with bated breath.

Percival: ...

The noble's smile widens so the apples of his cheeks rise, nearly consuming his eyes. But Percival, feeling the weight of his responsibilities, only tightens his lips.

After this interlude, Percival and Aglovale journey by carriage to a family villa within a cannon's shot of the east district.

Percival looks at his brother, who sits facing him, and opens his mouth.

Percival: Brother. Something you said earlier has lodged in my mind...

Aglovale: You were surprised to hear that I have faith in you.

Percival: Yes. Did you not think me green?

Aglovale: So I did and still do. As green as a newly planted sapling—its boughs bearing promise, but no fruit.

Aglovale: I spoke to pressure you. If you fail here, you shall render your king and brother a liar.

Percival: ...

Aglovale: I hope you are not cracking already. There are many other lands and responsibilities I mean to lay on you—once you have proven yourself.

Percival: When I received this gear, I swore to build a kingdom out of dreams. All toils seem small next to that.

Percival contemplates the sword beside him, which has the shape, light, and life of fire, all without burning.

Aglovale turns from his brother toward the window, where the east district scrolls by like images on a film reel.

Aglovale: You surveyed these lands before our conference. Did you form any new impressions, walking amongst the people?

Percival: ...

Percival: This is a good town. Its folk seem industrious and content in their labors.

Percival: But forgive me if I say it is not in line with my ideals.

Aglovale: Oh? In what way?

Percival: I have found that the living conditions on either side of a river, or even a street, are as different as fire and ice.

Percival: It is a testament to your strong leadership that peace may reign alongside this inequality.

Percival: But do the lower classes not deserve better? Why should any hard-working man sleep on a pallet of straw, while his neighbor couches on a bed of silk?

Aglovale: I see.

Aglovale: Then how do you propose to alter this town, so that it comes closer to your ideals?

Percival withdraws into himself, questing for the right words. Then he says...

Percival: Servants are created, not born. I will find the fetters binding the lower classes to their station—and sever them.

Percival: In time, I intend to make Wales a country where all live free of want, regardless of birth or profession.

Aglovale: Do you deny my philosophy, then? My way of ruling?

Percival: No. The same mountain may be climbed by many paths, and one nation may be raised by many minds. You have laid a strong foundation for me, Brother.

Percival: Wales is a mighty kingdom. Ask any of my vassals, and they will say as much.

Aglovale: Why mention your vassals? Can you not form your own views without borrowing the eyes of others?

Percival: One man does not make a country. And how can a king expect to win the approval of his subjects, if he cannot even win the approval of his friends?

Percival: My vassals have freely given me their service. I must repay their trust by making this world a better home for us all.

This time, Aglovale falls silent.

Aglovale: (He does not think it the duty of vassals to obey their king without question. In that, as in many other things, my brother and I differ.)

Aglovale: You have made clear your thoughts.

Aglovale: Now turn them into action. Show the people of Wales that you are more than a silver tongue.

Percival: I shall.

Aglovale: (I fear this issue Percival combats is too large for mortal minds.)

Aglovale: (Yet he looks the giant in the eye and does not shrink. From what well does he draw this willpower? Through his actions here, I mean to discover the answer.)

Percival: Hm? Brother, look!

Percival surges toward the window, as excited as a child.

Percival: The sisters from the river. They must be well. See how the younger one has grown.

Aglovale: ...

Aglovale: Stop the carriage.

The coachman obeys.

Percival: What is the matter?

Aglovale: I cannot doze while being jostled about like old luggage.

Aglovale: It is time I took some rest. If you do not mean to sleep yourself, I suggest you walk about town.

Percival: Are you not in haste? Your afternoon appointments...

Aglovale: Not so much haste that I cannot stay for the winking of an eye. Would you deprive me of that, Brother?

Percival: No, I... I am in your debt.

Percival disembarks from the carriage.

Seeing him, the sisters dash over, joy twinkling in their eyes.

Aglovale: (I have conferred this plot wholly unto him. Now it is his part to garden it as he will.)

Aglovale watches from the window, mulling over his brother's valor? Hubris? Foolhardiness? He cannot yet decide.

But, at last, seeing the garden of smiles blooming around Percival, he thinks, "No ignorance could spark so much light."