“How’s the weather up there?” Jerith asked.

“Cloudy, with a chance of fangirls.”

Due to the incapacitated nature of my ankles, we’d decided that the most effective way to transport my person across town would be piggybacking on Kallum. Word traveled quickly through the city that major shit had just gone down, and as we proceeded through the streets we were beset by cheering crowds. I must have looked like a victorious general, riding in on the mightiest steed in the kingdom, because I definitely bore the brunt of their adoration - I was waving left and right, shooting finger pistols at the occasional qtp2t… it was a burdensome task, but I bore it with dignity. 

The only thing I was missing was a cigar, reflective aviators, and a goddamn beer.

Experimentally, I held one arm out beneath me, making a “C” with my hand. A few minutes later, that hand had a flask to call its own. I slurked contentedly.

“I love this city!” I belched out when the flask was empty.

Before long, we were in the plaza in between the cathedral and the castle, walking in through the latter’s fortified main entrance. It was always a busy place, but the crowds parted as Kallum made his way through while the guardsmen stood at attention and gave us a salute. The ground floor of the castle had a large hall for feasting, which we circumvented and made our way up a couple of grand staircases.

The throne room itself was way nicer than the ground floor, ornamented floor to ceiling with things that glittered and glinted in the sunlight, which streamed in through stained glass windows that lined the sides of the room.

King Regnus was holding court in his glitzy gold throne, with his son Quincey in a lower chair on the King’s left, and another man that I’d never seen before sitting on the King’s right. A gallery of posh-looking individuals sat on the sidelines, observing the discussion taking place between a couple of merchants who stood in the center of the room, arguing about some trade route B.S.

As I’d hoped, the key of the kingdom was once again resting on a cord around the king’s neck.

After all, what kind of King would show up to work without his crown?

As soon as the King noticed Kallum, he waved one hand to pause the proceedings, and the squabbling businessmen took their leave.

Kallum lowered me to the ground, approached the foot of the throne, and knelt before the King. Jerith gestured at me, and with careful effort, I followed their example, wincing as politely as I could.

Where the fuck is Sylvana when you need her?

“Your majesty, the great monster that threatened the city has been slain.” Kallum reported.

King Regnus nodded his approval. “Well done, Kallum! What sort of creature was it this time?”

“A Duodon, my liege.”

A tense murmur went up from the panels of nobles.

“Really?! You’re back here early, then.” the King remarked, his eyebrows raising. “The last time one of those beasts showed up it damn near breached the walls! How many casualties did we suffer?”

“A few eager adventurers suffered grievous injuries, but there was only one fatality.”

“Adventurers?! Not even a single soldier?”

“No, sire.”

At this news, a few of the nobles stood up and began clapping, and the King followed suit.

“That’s unbelievable! You’ve outdone yourself Kallum! How did you manage a feat like that?”

“I had help, your majesty. The students accompanying me felled the monster by themselves, using that large machine they’ve been constructing outside the gate. All I had to do was land a killing blow.”

“Incredible…” the King said, taken aback. “So that little side project of yours is functional, Jerith?”

“It is, your majesty. With one minor exception, the SUBAS performed as expected.” said Jerith.

“And what would that minor exception be?” said Quincey, speaking up for the first time.

Jerith fielded the question, first by providing a quick rundown of how the fight had gone, then of the jamming issue we’d experienced just before our fourth shot.

“Trebuchets are notoriously prone to mechanical failure, but I’m sure that by reviewing the circumstances of the jamming, we can come up with some solutions to reduce the likelihood of a similar failure.” Jerith concluded.

The King nodded and sat back. Quincey, however, wasn’t having any of it.

“So in other words,” he pressed, “without Kallum, your machine still would have failed.”

Two sentences in, and I already disliked this fucker.

“That’s exactly right!” Jerith said with a disarming grin. “One SUBAS alone clearly isn’t enough to handle every threat that spawns from the killing field. That’s why I’d like to build three more! Now that our first model has been successfully field tested, I’m confident enough in the design to begin duplicating it… if you think it a prudent investment, your majesty.”

“We’ll consider it.” Quincey answered, even though Jerith’s comments had been directed towards the king. “Your weapon clearly has its merits… though as I’ve said repeatedly, it’s far more costly than a normal trebuchet, which is already an incredibly expensive piece of equipment.”

“Thank you, my lord.”  Jerith said addressing Quincey. “But if you’ll allow me to say one last thing - I’m not selling you a trebuchet. I’m selling you Kallum.”

There was a collective grunt of incredulity from the nobles. Kallum looked back at Jerith in confusion.

“What does that mean?” Quincey interjected.

“As the Champion of Castella, Kallum is the strongest warrior in the entire kingdom.” Jerith answered. “Without him, we have nothing - the other great powers of Alterra would invade with their respective Champions, carving out sections of our territory for their own. Due to the danger of the killing field, we’re forced to station Kallum here, in the capital. But if we had an alternate means of handling those threats, we would be free to station Kallum anywhere we see fit - this would be an incalculable benefit to our kingdom’s defenses.”

“Well said, Jerith.” the King chuckled. “You’ve already started to build a reputation in my council as a prodigious young military strategist. We’ll consider your proposal.”

“Please, submit your designs to the council for review.” Quincey added.

“Thank you, your majesty. I will.” Jerith said, grinning like a mad man as he knelt back down.

After a bit more back and forth, the council settled on a reward of ten gold coins for each student involved in the “field test”, and three for the other students who had helped construct the SUBAS. We were unpaid interns no more!

With all of the business concluded, our group stood to file out. Once the others had cleared the floor, I doubled back, and knelt before the king alone. Every step along the slate gray stones was its own circle of hell, but I grit my teeth and got through it. This whole setup couldn’t have been more ideal. I was in front of the King, and in his good graces.

If there was a time to ask, it was now.

“Your majesty!” I spoke for the first time. “My name is Bradley Razzetti. I’m a Calderan from the planet Earth. Instead of gold coins, there’s another reward that I would like instead.”

The muttering started up again. A quick glance behind me showed the shock on Jerith’s face.

“Oh?” the King responded. “And what would that be?”

Your key, sir.

Yeah, that wouldn’t go well. Time to add another chapter to my book of lies.

“Your majesty, when I joined the Castellan school for the year of study, they asked me how I got these shackles.” I began, holding up my wrists. “I told them that I was originally the slave of a Sunhome noble. This was the truth, but not the complete truth. The real answer is… I was locked in these shackles by King Quasar himself! Using the key to his kingdom!”

“Preposterous!” Quincey exclaimed. “That’s overkill! Why would he do that for a mere slave?!”

“He was quite taken by me.” I answered straight-faced. “By my interplanetary origin… and my slender boyish thighs.”

A couple of snorts were heard from among the nobles.

“How were you ever able to escape such a high profile confinement?” Quincey interrogated.

“It sounds hard to believe, but King Quasar kept many slaves in similar restraints. On his occasional command, the slaves of the palace were released from our chains and ordered to cavort about the garden in the nude, where we-”

“-that’s all, thank you.” Quincey cut me off, blushing.

“Of course.” I said. My mouth was a bottomless oil well that would never stop spewing. “My request is this: I would like to attempt to remove my shackles using the key of the Castellan kingdom.”

“That’s absurd!” Quincey kneejerkoffed, turning to the King. “Father, you know the Solians are training children as covert operatives!”

“Jerith.” the King said. “Do you vouch for this boy’s character?”

“I do, your majesty. Bradley contributed significantly to the design of the SUBAS. He kneels before you on legs that were injured during the battle against the Duodon - he was the only one of us who was hurt.”

Count on Jerith to support a friend!

The man who had been standing to the King’s right suddenly stepped forward and whispered something in the King’s ear.

King Regnus frowned uncomfortably. “Yes, well… I’m sorry to disappoint you, child. But handing off possession of the key of the kingdom is an incredibly risky thing. I’m sorry. I sympathize with your predicament, but… it’s not something I can do. I don’t know what kind of magic could reside in those mythril shackles of yours.”

This was fine. In fact, it was exactly what John had anticipated, all the way back in Apis. But this negotiation wasn’t over yet.

“Your majesty… I need this.” I said, continuing to kneel. “In exchange for the temporary use of your key, there’s something else I can offer: A knife with the power to conjure ice. I’ve been told it was stolen from this Kingdom long ago.”

“And just how did you happen upon our kingdom’s knife?!” Quincey snarled angrily.

“I took it from Quasar’s palace as I fled.”

“Well, that’s highly convenient!” he continued. “Are you saying you’ve been keeping it from the King while you stayed, free of charge, at his schools?!”

“That’s correct.”

“Where are you hiding it now?”

“Allow me to use the key, and I’ll return it to you.”

“Where are you hiding it?!?”

“Quincey, mind your tongue!” the King interjected angrily. “This boy helped save the city today!”

“Very well…” the King said, turning back towards me stonily. “In exchange for the knife, we’ll grant your wish. Kallum, you will attempt to unlock the shackles yourself. The boy is not to touch the key.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Kallum said. He approached the throne and accepted the key from the King.

“Start with this one, please.” I said, pulling down part of my pants to expose the keyhole of the worst offender.

Say goodbye, fucker.

Kallum inserted the key into the lock with an encouraging click. But when he tried to turn it… it wouldn’t go!

Say hello, fucker. the love belt whispered back, tickling my waist with its delicate embrace.

DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One after another, Kallum visited the shackles on my feet, then on my neck, failing every time. Until finally, there was only one left to try: my left wrist.

I gulped. I had no game plan for what would happen if this failed. Even up close, the key that Kallum was using looked exactly like the one that I had! This had to work.

Kallum put the key into the final shackle and turned.

With a gentle, smooth click, the key turned, and the shackle popped open.

I closed my eyes and heaved a massive sigh of relief. I must have been holding a lot of pent up stress, because when I opened my eyes back up, my vision seemed a bit clearer than it had before, the lights a bit sharper, the whispers from the nobles a bit more pronounced. I stood back up. My ankles were still shot to shit, but the pain was just a bit more manageable than it had been before.

I could already tell: One trip to Dr. Pink Hair, and I was gonna be unstoppable.