Muza Abara was the wealthiest man in the world, and he wanted everyone to know it. 

He had essentially built the economy of Timbu, the largest city in Musila, through somewhat shady investments in salt, gold, and elephant ivory. He practically swam in luxury, intoxicated by the gold that forever kissed his fingertips. Muza was smart about one thing, and one thing only: making money.

His brother Rhana, however, possessed a rare gift for politics, governance, and big-picture economics. He had never really tried to get rich as an individual, but then, he never needed to. He was perfectly comfortable riding his brother's coattails, and Muza needed Rhana's political acumen, anyway. 

With Rhana as acting governor of Timbu and practically the entire city on Muza's payroll in one way or another, the Abara brothers were unstoppable. No one minded the corruption too much; Timbu was prosperous, well-managed, and dealt with far less crime than the average city. People came from hundreds of miles to trade at the financial mecca of the world. 

The Vistilian occupation of the city fifteen years ago had initially caused terrible chaos. Rhana had been twenty-one when they arrived. 

Musila possessed the most fertile lands in the world, and Vistile had the most powerful military in the world. Musila was being ruled by a weak and deformed orphan queen in her early teens, and Vistile was being led by one of the most powerful emperors in its history. In retrospect, no one should have been surprised. 

If it's one thing Vistilians were good at, though, it was roads. Back then, Rhana was serving his first term as governor. He had been appointed by the young queen, but his role was as inherited as hers. Unlike her, though, he turned out to be a natural leader. He managed to broker a deal with his own colonizers and had every road in Musila redirected to lead to Timbu, just as every road in Vistile led to Istrodrid. Thus Timbu became the richest city on Earth, and his brother the richest man. 

Rhana looked at his younger brother contemplatively as Muza absentmindedly tried to skin a grape with his fingernails. Two servants stood on either side of him, fanning their master with palm leaves taller than themselves. Both brothers were dressed extravagantly, with jewels dripping from their bodies and gold hanging from their ears. Turbans of printed fabric of remarkable detail protected their eyes and scalps in style. Their silken robes were even more vibrant than their rocks, and glistened in the affronting Musilan sun. 

"I think it's time that we make our pilgrimage," Rhana said.

Muza scoffed distractedly. "We have our whole lives to do that. I know you're a religious man, but--"

"It's not just that. We could reap serious benefits from you showing off your wealth. Think of it: You could have a whole procession that throws gold to thousands of admirers along the road. You'd become a divine being in their eyes."

Muza smiled slightly. "Money is power. But who would govern the city in our absence?"

"Muza, you are literally the main source of income for half the city. We can find someone of reasonable rank who is smart in all the right ways and dumb in all the others."

"Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being worshipped like a god. But I also enjoy lazing around my gigantic mansion while I eat, sleep, and fuck."

"Not a god. A divine being."

"Same thing."

"No, it isn't, idiot. Don't compare yourself to the Gods."

Muza rolled his eyes. "So I take it you've been hearing voices again?"

"Yes." Rhana searched his brother's face. "You don't believe me."

"It's not that I don't believe you, Rhana. It's that I don't believe the voices."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that... I don't know. What's the difference between you and every other sonuvabitch who claims to hear voices that aren't there?"

"The difference is that my voices are Gods."

Muza looked out across the vast yellow cityscape. Thick palm trees swayed in the subtle wind as they tickled the pointed tops of the steep pyramidal buildings. The heat of the sun beat down on him, making his deep brown skin look lighter than it really was. His tuft of a beard curled in little golden circles of refracted light. He sighed, looking unusually pensive.

"I believe you, Rhana. I really do. But you have to tell me what they're saying. I need to know at least that much."

Rhana looked pointedly at the servants, and Muza shooed them away. Rhana only spoke once he was sure he would not be heard by anyone other than his brother."

"I am needed in Caiparta."

"But why?"

"Mother Moon needs me to fulfill my destiny."

"And what is your destiny?"

Rhana sighed reluctantly. 

"Well?"

Rhana lowered his voice to just above a whisper. 

"To sieze the crown."