Aptera Rehu

I stood before a door to a room in an inn on the other side of the Republican capital – the number of people I was set to report to was starting to get out of hand.

“Let’s see… Maybe this will get his attention.” I snickered.

I knocked on the door in quite the irritating manner; neither loudly nor quickly, but simply for as long as it took for the door to open. Sure enough, the door swung open, revealing my brother’s irritated face.

“Aptera.” He said with a frown.

“I didn’t take you for a woodpecker. Are you trying to drill a hole through my door?”

“I just figured you’d appreciate the message since you like being straightforward so much. Surely that got the message in?” I smirked.

His frown deepened.

“Stop being a gods-damned smartass. We don’t have time to waste. I swear, only half the crap that comes out of your mouth is worth listening to. At best.”

I held a hand to my heart in mock shock.

“Your words wound me. At least a quarter of my words aren’t total garbage!”

My brother just glared at me in irritation.

“So, Ati, are you going to invite me in or what? I can always walk away and do my job at collecting more intel rather than waste time telling you what I found out.”

Ati took a deep breath to avoid cursing me out before wordlessly turning around to walk inside and gesturing for me to follow.

“This should be fun.” I chuckled as I stepped in and closed the door behind me.

***

“So, what’s the situation here?” Ati asked.

“Depends on who’s asking.” I said, combing my hair with the help of my hand mirror.

The two of us sat on the simple wooden chairs that were so common in these cheap inns.

Ati rolled his eyes.

“I am here to report your findings to the Medjay. It’s ridiculous that the delegation sent here only included members of the military – intelligence was never your job. It’s ours.”

Hmm. My gorgeous, silky-smooth hair was starting to get a little dry.

What a travesty.

I have to go and look for anyone selling beauty products in this country, though I am not sure a nation of warmongering barbarians would appreciate the finer arts anyway.

“Aptera! I am talking to you!” Ati yelled.

I sighed.

“Why don’t you yell a little louder next time? Maybe I’ll hear it a little better.”

Ati grit his teeth but ultimately kept his mouth shut, settling for glaring at me instead. When I was done grooming my hair, I turned to answer his question.

“You Medjay types should stick to keeping your heel on the throats of commoners with funny Ionian ideas. Collecting information on an opponent that can actually bite back is the military’s job. But to answer your question,” I said putting down my hand mirror to meet my brother’s gaze, “we’re getting conflicting reports. The Republic’s legions are secretly mobilizing, though not even the officers seem to know why. They all just think it’s a training exercise.” I said, pulling out my nail file.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Ati’s eyes widened.

“The Republic is going to start a war?” He gaped.

I momentarily stared back at him with a smirk.

“Hold your horses – I said we got conflicting reports.”

I turned back to look at my nails, which were starting to chip because of all the excitement I’ve been up to lately.

“The senate and the consul’s actions were the opposite of antagonizing. They showed seemingly genuine attempts at reconciliation, and we don’t see that the few talented youths present in the tournament justifies starting a war – especially with both the gods and the dragons on the opposite side. More importantly than that, however, is that we don’t see evidence of them believing that the lives of these youth being valuable enough to start a war over.”

Ati put a hand to his chin as he thought over my words, while I continued filing my nails to perfection.

“…Just what are they up to?” he asked.

“That’s the million platinum question, isn’t it? We’re working on finding that out. Your welcome to sit pretty and enjoy the tournament in the meantime, but don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong. Foreign intelligence is the army’s jurisdiction, not yours.”

Ati looked to me for a moment then sighed and switched topics.

“Why did you decide to reveal Kiara’s origins as a dragon now?”

Hmm. A better question.

“Well, you’ll have to ask the people from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs with us. They’re the ones who came up with the strategy. The military isn’t the only government organization on this diplomatic mission.” I smiled.

“And yet, all final decisions belong to you anyway. The diplomats can only advise you on what to do. Just spit it out.” He retorted.

“From what I heard from Major Amset, the fear and hatred of dragons runs deep in the Republic – even more so than in the four nations. It gets complicated by the presence of underground sympathies to descendants of Dragon Cult worshipers in many of the provinces, which makes both the Republic’s authorities and peoples feel threatened.” I answered.

“The best strategy for now was to introduce the presence of a single contestant as a dragon, preferably at the end of the tournament, to both test the waters and minimize the amount of time things could go wrong in. With enough exposure, especially in a friendly tournament like this one, the road to more serious higher-level diplomatic talks between the Republic and the Isles will be more feasible and palatable to the public.”

“Hmm…”

Ati thought over the things I said, but this time, I was the one to interrupt him.

“In any case, dear brother, I’ve got a job to do. Bye-bye for now!” I said, standing up to leave.

“Don’t you dare call me your ‘brother.’” Ati growled, spitting out the last word with particular venom.

I wasn’t fazed.

“I’ll be happy to stop calling you that if you pay a visit to the Rehu family estate. Head Butler Sennofre and Cook Menhit raised you just as they did me, and they miss you dearly. The other staff of our household keep asking me about your wellbeing and whereabouts as well. They deserve to see you, even if you have good reason to hate House Rehu.” I said, a hint of anger finally revealing itself in my voice.

That took out the wind from Ati’s angry sails.

“I can’t do that. I am not setting foot on that blasted place ever again.” He said, though his words didn’t carry the same bite they had over the rest of our conversation.

“Well, brother dearest, that’s none of my gods-damned business. Until you go and assuage their concerns, I am not going to give yours the time of day. Toodelo!” I said, waving theatrically before turning around and heading for the door.

Ati Amasis, my brother, stared at the wall as I took my leave.

***

“The Tameryian Suns have won the match!” the referee announced.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have our champions! The first Iron Fist team tournament has now come to its conclusion, and it wasn’t even close!” the commentator yelled at the jubilant crowd.

The finals between the Suns and the Hoplites went about as well as I expected, though Nisos did come up with some interesting, desperate countermeasures. If it was just Asten on our team, he may have had a chance of winning. Unfortunately for him, this wasn’t some story book, and a team of mundane humans like the Hoplites couldn’t hope to defeat a team with elementals and dragons in their ranks.

“The crowning of the Suns as the team tournament’s champions will commence alongside that of the individuals’ tournament during the closing ceremony – including the bestowal of the rewards!” he announced.

As we stepped out of the arena, I nudged Nico for a moment.

“Do you know what the runners-up get as a prize? Also, do you know what this ‘Vulcan’ blacksmith is capable of?” I asked.

It was Asty who answered my question, though.

“‘Vulcan’ is by far the most talented human blacksmith in generations, and his works are of such high quality that they only come second to those made by Hephaistos, the Ionian god of the Forge. I can’t wait to see what he can make for me!” She said enthusiastically, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

Seeing the question forming in my lips, she interjected early to answer it.

“I am not familiar with Draconic craftsmen, so I can’t comment on how it relates to what you can get from them. Still, this isn’t an opportunity you should miss. While your armor seems to be self-repairing, I have doubts about its ability to hold up at the level we’re fighting at, considering the base materials it’s made of. Since we’re far from the Isles, why not try and get something from Vulcan now?” she suggested.

Hmm.

“While I don’t want to throw away this armor, especially with what I had to go through to get the materials for it and with my mom’s work on it, I guess you still have a point. I can just keep both. We each get to ask for one item, right?”