The rhythmic groan of protesting axles accompanied Gethii's strained grunts as he heaved against the back of their battered transport.
Chinakah peered out from the driver's seat, a wry smile playing on her lips. "You know, for someone who boasts about their legendary strength, this doesn't look particularly effortless."
Gethii's face, slick with sweat, contorted in mock offense. "Effortless? Of course, it is! I'm merely… pacing myself. Admiring the scenic route at a leisurely speed." He pushed harder, his muscles bulging. "Though, I must admit, the 'scenic route' seems to be perpetually uphill."
Finally, the imposing gates of the capital's checkpoint loomed into view. Dusting themselves off as best they could, Gethii and Chinakah approached the stern-faced guards.
They presented their identification scrolls. "We are here to request an audience with the King," Chinakah announced, her voice polite but firm. "We have an important incident to report."
One of the guards let out a dry chuckle. "Good luck with that. You'll be here a while." He gestured with his halberd towards a sprawling encampment of tents and makeshift shelters stretching beyond the gate. "Ever since the new King decided to hear reports in person, the queue has been… substantial. Current wait time for an audience is approximately two weeks."
Gethii and Chinakah exchanged a weary groan. "Two weeks?" Gethii echoed, running a hand through his disheveled locs.
Chinakah, however, offered a more optimistic perspective. "Well," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "we did say we wanted to spend some quality alone time together. Think of it as an extended vacation! We could visit the Swordcrafters' Guild, perhaps even the Grand Water Temple. You might even have enough time to get a proper sword forged for Leonotis."
"Hmm," Gethii mused, the prospect of a new blade for his young student momentarily eclipsing his frustration. "Perhaps you're right."
After pushing their ailing vehicle to a nearby mechanic, they made their way to the palace and officially registered their request for an audience, receiving a small, numbered token.
The following days unfolded with a blend of mundane tasks and sightseeing. They shared simple meals at bustling street stalls, watched a surprisingly engaging street play about heroic goblins, and wandered through the capital's vibrant markets.
Chinakah spent a considerable amount of time in the serene halls of the Water Temple, lost in meditative contemplation.
Gethii, meanwhile, sought out the renowned forge masters, only to be met with apologetic shrugs and the disheartening reality of overflowing commissions. A custom-forged sword within two weeks was an impossibility.
Thinking on his feet, Gethii then approached a skilled carpenter. Explaining his need for a training replica of his own uniquely designed blade, he managed to secure an agreement for a wooden version, albeit with a week-long crafting time.
With that settled, he decided to visit an old acquaintance, Simone, who owned a well-respected armor shop.
The reunion was warm, filled with laughter and reminiscing about shared adventures from years past.
Eventually, Gethii's expression turned serious. "So, Simone," he began, leaning against a rack of gleaming breastplates, "what's the capital really like now? After the coup?"
Simone's smile faded slightly. "Bloody. It was bloody, Gethii. A lot of people in the palace… well, they died. But honestly? Most of them were terrible people anyway. Corrupt, cruel… they aren't missed by anyone honest." She sighed. "The new King… he's been implementing changes. Policies that actually make sense. He stopped the child brides, for one. And he's created a new school, opened up more opportunities for women in the workforce."
"You're saying this like he's a saint," Gethii countered, a skeptical edge to his voice. "But I've heard the rumors."
Simone shrugged. "I didn't say he was all good. Just that anyone who's honest and hardworking seems to be doing just fine under his rule. The ones who thrived on the old corruption? They're the ones whispering in the shadows."
"And these audiences with him?" Gethii pressed.
"You state your report," Simone said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Speak truthfully about what happened. Most times, he'll either tell you how to get back on track or direct you to someone who can. And if your report is positive… well, there are even rewards."
"And what happens if you disagree with his suggestions?" Gethii asked, his gaze intent.
Simone paused, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "Then… you are asking for trouble. His suggestions are… reasonable."
"What aren't you saying, Simone?" Gethii prompted gently.
She hesitated again, then sighed. "I mean… he placed a large order for armor. For the war effort. And when I inquired about payment, he said it was for the good of the kingdom. Don't get me wrong, Gethii, I want to do my part. But I still have bills to pay, raw materials to buy for my regular clients. Now… I'm stretched thin."
"And there it is," Gethii murmured, understanding dawning.
"He didn't start these wars," Simone defended, though her voice lacked conviction. "And I've even heard rumors… he's trying to find a way to end it, before more troops are sent to the battlefield."
"Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself," Gethii observed quietly. He reached into his pack and pulled out his spare warrior's toga, a sturdy, practical garment. "Simone, I was wondering… how long would it take to make some alterations to this? Reinforce the seams, maybe add some extra padding? It needs to be resized to fit a boy."
Simone looked at the toga, then back at Gethii, a wry smile returning. "Gethii, you know I'm swamped with backlog. At least two weeks."
"Perfect," Gethii said, a strange sense of grim satisfaction settling over him.
The day of their audience arrived, and Chinakah and Gethii retrieved the resized toga and the wooden training sword for Leonotis. They loaded them into their now-functional truck, with Gethii making a point of asking Simone to hold onto the truck in the back of her shop until their return.