An Excerpt from the Diary of Val IV, 64th Caecus of the Jingoistic States of Stingoistic Jates

Date: [rendered illegible from saltwater stains]
My mother was officially declared dead six hours ago. Her name was Ena II; she was the sixty-third Caecus, and her death has made me the sixty-fourth—Val IV, they told me at the funeral-turned-coronation "ceremony", that is my name now, what it was always going to be, and what it always would have been.

Much of my nation's history escapes me. Despite being primed all my life for the inevitable role of leading us to a brighter future, most were careful to not allow me knowledge of our past before a certain point. What I do know is that it once was a prosperous, flourishing bloom of wonder and freedom (it is not now, it is not now), where the leaders were elevated by their subjects and where the people were happy (we are not now, they are not now). In what ways they were happy, I know not, and I don't wish to know if they could be ruined so easily. But they were happy. They are not happy anymore, but surely they must have been happy.

I do not know the name of my ancestor, but what his name became was Lan I, the zeroth Caecus. Before he was the zeroth Caecus, he was the last president; the worst president. He waged tireless wars, playing "games" of bombs and destruction with his peers, games in which they were hapless victims to the other players' moves. Missiles were as commonplace as fireworks, and laughter was an omen of death; for the only one happy enough to laugh was Lan I, whose amusement was the suffering of his fellow countrymen. With his death, the wars ceased, but the scars upon the nation and the people remained. And they were not happy.

For his blindness, Lan I was declared the zeroth Caecus, and his death made his son, Ken I, the first. The purpose of the Caecus is to atone for Lan I's sins, and the sins of all Caeci after him, and to make the people happy. When the people are happy, the Caecus who made them happy will be made the last, and the subjects will once again elevate proper leaders. They must be happy, Ken I was told; but he did not make the people happy, and his death made his daughter, Sam I, the second Caecus. They must be happy, she was told; but she did not make the people happy. There have been sixty-three Caeci, and the death of Ena II, the sixty-third, has made me the sixty-fourth.

At her funeral, the people listed what she had done, what she had not done, and what they felt. She did not make the people happy, but they must be happy. They gave me to the crown for it to wear, and its gilded horns sprouted from my skull like thorns upon a stem, and it became a part of me. I was told my mission, and the people commanded me to fulfill it, and they became a part of me. They brought my mother's portrait to the end of the hall, and they hung her with the sixty-two Caeci before her beneath the looming Lan I, and she became a part of him. I was not allowed to grieve for my mother; Ena II was a sin I must now atone for. My son followed me as I was escorted to the office, the people having already created an issue for me to resolve. I realized I did not know if he knew how one day, his name would be Ura III; I did not know if he knew that is what it was always going to be, and what it always would have been.

They must be happy, I am told.