The Accademia Imperiale, Celano,
Federal Republic of Seccera
September 8th, 2020
Reneo Fuscone gazed out of his office window at the city of Celano, its ancient walls bathed in faint rays of gold as the sun peered down through an otherwise overcast sky. He took solace in moments like this, brief periods of respite in which he could set aside the quotidian duties of his station. Now, however, he found himself quite unable to focus on anything but the present. Seccera was free. It had been in the news for days, the subject of every other passing conversation, and the source of much celebration. Reneo couldn’t bring himself to feel anything more than indifference for the change in government. He’d come into this world as a Volscine, entered adulthood under Tretridian occupation, and now reached the height of his career in a sovereign Seccera. It had meant nothing to him, for what is a state compared to the light of truth? The Accademia Imperiale, the organization that he had dedicated his life to, was hundreds of years older than even the earliest mention of a Secceran realm. It had persisted for nearly a thousand years, the glory of its station maintained by the unique degree of autonomy it was afforded by the Celanoran Empire and its successors alike.
He turned away from the window, too deep in thought to realize he was aimlessly pacing across his office floor. Ten centuries of unmatched brilliance, and what was their reward? The Secceran Republic wished to see the Accademia nationalized, to be stripped of the near sovereignty that was its defining quality. Though Reneo could find room in his heart to respect the bold new leaders of his nation, their choice on this matter was one he simply could not abide.
“Lord Helias,” he muttered, turning to stare at a portrait hanging on the far wall, “Were you in my place, what course of action would you take?”
The painted visage of Ingelmaro dei Helias, founder and first rector of the Accademia, did not deign him with a response. Chuckling bitterly under his breath, Reneo turned and took a seat at his desk. If only it were that easy. Alas, this was not a time to took to the wisdom of ages past. Seccera was changing in a way it had never changed before, and he found himself standing as the sole guardian of the Accademia’s legacy. Already he had made multiple appeals to the fledgling Secceran government, but it seemed as if they were simply uninterested in giving him proper consideration. While a certain degree of difficulty was not unexpected, especially considering the reorganization of the Secceran state, it just ended up leaving a bad taste in his mouth.
Staring off into the near distance, he began to run through possible approaches in his head. Though the internal politics of the Accademia’s Board of Governors could often be as complex as any national parliament, he suspected that its members would at least be on his side in demanding a fairer hand from the Secceran government. Even so, there was no guarantee that even a majority would agree with his position on the Accademia’s proposed nationalization. Still, the board would be forced to discuss this topic at some point in the near future. Better to get it out of the way now and see if he could make some actual progress for a change. He checked his calendar. The earliest they’d realistically be able to meet was the twelfth, and that meant three more days of fruitless appeals in his future. He sighed, reached for his laptop, and began drafting a memo.