OCIOUS EXPLODED SO ANGRILY THAT HIS ENTOURAGE thought he might have a heart attack. It was bad enough that the Young Gracious had escaped his clutches, but the fact that everyone in Edefia was talking about his failure incensed him even further. Especially as this setback brought with it bitter disappointment: the people of Edefia had never put up such strong opposition before. No one had ever dared to insult him like this and he was reeling from such a painful blow to his ego. He couldn’t remember ever feeling older or wearier. Like a maimed lion, he was looking a good deal the worse for wear, but he was still trying to maintain a certain swagger. Everything had been going downhill since the Runaways had returned. It went without saying that the presence of a New Gracious did open up new horizons for them, just when they’d thought all hope was gone. She’d saved the Heart of the Two Worlds, the rain had returned and there was a good chance they’d be able to reopen the Portal… He would at last be able to fulfil his dearest dream: to see the Outside and make the most of his overwhelming superiority over the humans, none of whom, not even the strongest, could rival his vast abilities. However, in the meantime, the Last Hope was undermining the social order he’d spent his whole life establishing.
“You were right, Father,” announced Andreas dully. “The Young Gracious was in Leafhold.”
Orthon glanced scornfully at him. How low would his hated half-brother stoop to get into their father’s good books?
“You all seem shocked by their reaction,” he said, fixing his strange aluminium-coloured gaze on Ocious. “But this rebellion was not only predictable: it was inevitable.”
He kept his eyes on his father.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said softly. “You and I are the same, we know that strength is all that matters and that fine feelings have nothing to do with the acquisition of power. Your big mistake was to treat your people with restraint, and what happened in Leafhold only proves it.”
Ocious was surrounded by about ten of his staunchest supporters. They all squirmed on their seats—the prodigal son was going too far. Everyone held their breath as the Docent glared at him with narrowed eyes.
“How dare you?” he growled through clenched teeth.
Orthon didn’t look flustered. He smoothed back his hair with one hand, then continued:
“Instead of reprimanding me, you should face facts. You took too many precautions to avoid hurting these people. And the end result is that you’ve turned them into rebels who no longer respect your authority.”
He paused for a second, before delivering his damning conclusion:
“The people of Edefia aren’t afraid of you any more, Father.”
A heavy silence ensued and everyone in the room looked down in dismay, lost for words. Everyone except for the Docent and his two sons. Orthon and Ocious were facing each other and Andreas was glowering at his half-brother with icy hatred.
“You have no idea of the difficulties we’ve endured for nearly sixty years,” thundered Ocious. “I’ve done what I could to maintain order and preserve life in a slowly dying land. Do you think it’s easy to uphold the law in these conditions? Do you think it’s simple to survive when everything is collapsing around you?”
His lower lip was trembling when he added:
“Do you think it isn’t painful coping with a nation’s ingratitude?”
Orthon interrupted with an insolent snort of laughter, shocking everyone. He sank into his armchair, placed his arms on the armrests and crossed his legs. Ocious paled with rage. His eyes flickered almost imperceptibly, but Orthon didn’t miss a thing.
“Father, you might be able to fool everyone into believing you’re acting for them and with them,” Orthon said, motioning to Ocious’s supporters. “But not me. Don’t tell me you’re convinced you’ve been magnanimous! You haven’t, and the people aren’t ungrateful, as you persist in saying: they’ve merely realized that you’ve been using them to satisfy your own personal ambitions for years. And you know it!”
“Your father is an extraordinary man!” protested a bearded man near Ocious. “Everything he’s done has been for us, the people of Edefia.”
Orthon sighed noisily.
“My words might be harsh, but I respect my father,” he said. “I respect him and I understand him. And that’s because, in many ways, we’re very much alike.”
“You’re greatly mistaken, Orthon,” snapped Andreas. “Father and you are complete opposites. Despite what you think and despite criticism by the people of Edefia, Father has always obeyed certain principles, while you have no scruples and accept no limits. You criticized him for being ambitious, but what ambition did you mean? That of wanting to leave Edefia? Few of us haven’t at least once in our lives wanted to see the Outside. That of wanting power? For your information, our land has been in such a bad way for so many years that it’s been more of a burden than a privilege.”
With a sceptical stare, Orthon clapped slowly with a mocking smile.
“You’ll reduce me to tears in a moment,” he said.
Ocious raised his hand, his large palm outward.
“Enough of this bickering!” he bellowed.
Turning to Orthon, he said:
“Well, my son, if you’re so clever, why don’t you give us the benefit of your dazzling intellect and experience and prove to us that your methods are better than mine. If I’ve been going about things in the wrong way, then show me the right way. What do you have in mind?”
It was after this fraught conversation that Ocious decided to listen to the fascinating theories put forward by the son he’d never really believed in. Speaking to an attentive audience, it took Orthon several hours to explain what he’d learnt after years of witnessing various political and ideological upheavals on the Outside. In particular, it had been his career with the CIA—the powerful American intelligence agency—that had given him an insider’s insight into the mechanisms, challenges and strategies of men in power, whether they were committed democrats or power-hungry dictators. Ocious didn’t interrupt. He listened enthralled, his mind working furiously, as Orthon revisited different times and places. Ocious’s silent attention strengthened the Felon’s credibility and earned him valuable brownie points. Occasionally Ocious frowned or gasped in surprise at his similarity to some of the Outside’s most hated leaders. He was also amazed to learn so much from the son he’d always regarded as a loser.
After this speech, aware of his own limitations, Ocious put his trust in Orthon, which would have been an unthinkable concession a few days ago. Despite the general disapproval, Orthon seized the opportunity without a second glance at his hated half-brother and the honourable Werewalls who’d blindly followed Ocious for nearly six decades.