Magical Boys Lost on Earth

The contract

I must confess, the king's idiocy bothered me so much, that for one day I was beside myself.

Fortunately, baths serve not only to cleanse the body, but also the soul. The shame that had been eating away at me is now in the past. 

Plan A didn’t work, but deep down, I was already counting on it. Time to put Plan B into practice and if it still goes wrong, we have C.

The way back was easy since it is still early. The city could stay like this forever. Quiet, dark, and pleasant.

I was still a little confused when I got home. Completely relaxed, but still, something bothered me. It was the sight of Naukar that made me remember what had happened this morning.

The breakfast was postponed (again) the instant I remembered it. I took out my notebook and started to leaf through my notes. They were abstract, but clear enough. I packed my little bag with everything I needed and left again. I need to catch up. Soon the sun will rise and honestly, I already had enough yesterday.

 Rômulo's office was not difficult to find. Since all the commercial buildings in the capital were in the same square. It was enough to see the sign with the name Wohinger to know that it was in the right place. Yellow wall, green roof, and blue wall … I passed by yesterday without even noticing! It was still dawn and the square was as noisy as a dead bird. Even so, the red door opened with a simple push.

Oh! I've seen this before. The two-story store was like a larger version of his old Kreg office, although still different. The second floor was full of bookshelves. Taking up half the place, and ending with an internal balcony. It was an organized place, but still, books and papers piled up on the tables, neatly, of course.

The shelves were decorated with gold paint, the books were all new and well maintained.

At least, now the rays of sunlight do not come from the open windows, but it invited the cold to enter. The moonlight made the room feel refreshing, soothing, and to my surprise, aggravatingly silent!

This was probably because the tall, well-dressed man in the colors of the flag, was sitting with his head dropped back in an armchair by the window. His whole being seemed lost in the dream world.

What a déjà vu. This time is not that I'm in no mood to be ignored, but I do not have much time to waste. I simply clear my throat and wait patiently for him to wake up. A method that proved to be efficient.

The man fumbled at the sudden noise. Casting a startled look in all directions before finally finding me in the entrance of the room.

He gets up and then quickly bows in respect before declaring himself playfully.

— You're late, knight. — In my ears, this sounded very rude.

— Don't play games with me. You were drowning in the own service, not waiting for me. — I answer your Magnificence in the same tone.

— It is not a game. I just knew that one hour you would remember and come to me. Tea? Oh! It's already cold. — This guy pisses me off with his disrespectfully calm voice. 

— Good players do not lose bets unless they have something to gain from it. — I reply annoyed. After a while in his presence, you learn that he does it simply by overestimating anyone other than himself.

— Don't put me as the villain of the story. You are here for the answers whose price was to betray your nation, aren't you? — At least he gets to the point.

— In this requirement you are delayed, the complete prophecy flaps like a flag, hanging on the castle walls in plain sight. — When talking to people like him, you should always be careful. Minimal extra information can be a weapon in his hands.

— But you also know that I have more to offer, if not, I wouldn't have come.

— You said yourself that you're just waiting for me to remember. If you know something useful, start talking. — I say by throwing my notebook on your desk. Open on the page where I wrote my dream.

He picks up the notebook and starts reading, as always to my displeasure, laughing.

— I knew it reminds you already that I know the capacity of the Crown Prince's memory. But it remains impressive every time I look at it.—  

—And what exactly has to do with me? — Ask the completely lost. This guy talks a lot with himself.

— Let's start with the facts and objectives my little knight — Did I heard my little knight? Because if it weren't for his usefulness, I already would have. . .

— “Save the king with golden hair, beware of the red-eyed genius.” is written on all sides. And now all Castile fears that I will try to usurp the throne. What else should be explained? —

— There is! Hahaha! — Rômulo couldn't stop laughing, as if someone poked him with a feather. — It is true what you said, but you forgot the most important part! — He continued to explain after recovering from the fit of laughter.

— I am the Prince of Kreg son of Carl XVII and if you have something to add, which I suspect you have, it is better to tell me soon. My time is short! — Protest in fury. I hate people who are masters of the art of avoiding the crucial point. No, I hate this individual in particular. 

—Do you think the old king would reveal the whole truth to the public? — And here comes the bait.

— And what reasons would he have to hide this? You have nothing left to lose the war is over and the prophecy is fulfilled. — Biting will only hurt my pride, but after yesterday's events … one more scratch won't make a difference.

— That's where the young knight is wrong. Although there was a time when someone asked him, he would dictate all the verses without remorse now he…—

— Stop talking in riddles, it only slows you down. I already understood that the King did so to protect the little prince. Now spill out the prince's prophecy part if it has anything to do with me. — He can be talkative, but if he is pressured, he always gets to the point.

— TSC, TSC, there is no fun in talking to younger people who don't like riddles. “The one with the orange eyes will have a great gift, but he can never be king, or he will get sick and die.” The first king … also had orange eyes. Like you, he saw prophecy only as a word spoken by an influential old man.— 

— This explains the prophecy being kept secret, but it also proves its veracity, and it explains the king's decision as well. But it is not the solution to my problem. GET TO THE DAM POINT. — I can already see the first rays of sunlight illuminating the sky. If he tries to deceive me again, I swear I will leave with answers or not.

— That's not all. Sit down at once, the story is long. — I involuntarily sit down, this nobleman's voice is very convincing. — 

As you may know, Castela's royal line is a bit different. The first crowned King made a promise to train his heirs in all arts since they learned to speak and walk. But by no means does the heir have to be his true son or daughter. But someone who would live for the Kingdom until the last second of their lives.

Our King is an exception. He was just the love of our Queen. She was strong and fearlessly beautiful.

 Do you know what happened to the Queen? — What a silly question, certainly has a trap to show how ignorant I am. But what can I do against this hypocritical adult? Better just accept it and respond at once.

— She got pregnant but shortly after the actual heir was born her carriage was attacked by foreign bandits while heading to Kreg. She was murdered. — As soon as I gave my answer, Rômulo's eyes shone because I finally agreed to fall into one of his little word games.

— A small misinterpretation that happens a lot in badly told stories or stories that were not meant to be told. If your majesty was at its peak, no bandit would be able to kill her. She was fragile, about to give birth, and both the baby and the mother were killed.

And this is the moment when your dream and I come into play. One of our spies has lost his head with such tragedy. He thought the killer was not a foreigner, but a Kreg nobleman. He ended up killing the only son of the king of Kreg.

War was imminent. But without heirs, only two countries were in crisis.

 At least until a certain orphan from near the border, who had just lost his parents in a fire, brought your salvation into his arms.

I was just in charge of giving the gift formally to the Kreg King. I have always been good at this kind of job. For this reason, I gained the trust of both sides of the island of Kreg. The agreement of two kings is known by few, a forgotten day that was marked in our history. It should be forgotten since human trade is prohibited by Castela's code.

— An orphan market … — Completed unconsciously.

— The memory of you two is equally extraordinary. It must be something in your eyes because I swear you were just babies in my arms at the time. Much more pleasant than today … Anyway… The King of Kreg naturally accepted you In his son's place. Thinking that by raising you as his son he could influence you to choose his side. 

Our King, on the other hand, believed in the justice of the prophet's words. He adopted a baby who knew he would never become king, but at that time …

— Hurry, I don't want to know why the orange eyes were adopted. Where did I come from? — 

— Well, as the prophecy itself says, your origin was unknown. You will have to ask this directly to the orphan who found you. You were found with the little prince as he is called today… — Found along with the heir? Terrible. To marry the princess, impossible. A peaceful life, unlikely. But remember, where the lemon is, there is lemonade too.

— Interesting, name?— It took, but I finally understood how far that demon calculated my actions, I must learn something from it.

Rômulo smiles and looks at me as if he has an internal joke.

— Before names, I demand an agreement.

— The old agreement, yes?

— The prophecy? Are the facts true or just strange coincidences? Currently, with the popularization of prophecy among the people, I intend to write a book about it. And you will help me. “He must set out on a  journey to find his place” I intend to use part of the prophecy to finance you on a journey after the newest prophet's heir… . — I just can't believe he intended to use me this way all again. 

—And why should I? I have now my place to live, a good amount of war medals, and a maid. I no longer require your help.— This should do. . . Or not, there it goes the trick smile again. I officially hate smiles!

—Oh, you do require my help. If I know the knight as I think I know, you won't survive a day without my help. — It is just me that hear his voice as that of a demon offering a contract in exchange for my soul?

—Sun is rising you got three minutes to convince me.—The most important thing about these times is not to lose your composure.

—Challenge accepted.—He responds excitedly as he takes a document from the pile of papers on his desk and starts reading aloud. — Alamex Zadkiel of Kreg is here being officially a nobleman of Castela. Your duties include: First, attend Castela nobleman schools... —Yep, he is certainly a demon offering a contract.

—Unnecessary. — I reply short and sharp.

—But mandatory. —He says taking his eyes off the paper for a moment. But soon goes back to reading. — Furthermore, we have. . . Nobleman's mandatory fight training. . .

—You know I am not physically able. — I answer a little more desperate this time. The devil's offer is looking tempting.

—Say it to the King my boy. Going on, after you reach adulthood you will be released from the king protection. That means, to either attend the academy in Castile or start working on your own.— He finishes reading the document, placing it on the table, which exposes his smile once more.

—And you, as my formal teacher, can prevent all of this from happening by taking care of my guardianship. That also means being able to make decisions in my place is what my studies refer to. Am I wrong, your magnificence?— I say without being frustrated, just a little defeated.

He bends over his desk and extends his hand to me.

—Your Knight this exactly right. With no more to add, does my little infant prodigy accept the proposal?— I sigh, which he seems to have found cute by the shape of his smile, and without further ado, I clasp the outstretched hand that was about five times bigger than mine.

—With nothing more to add, you can take over my guard. Now get to the point, who is him? Who has my answers? — I let go of his hand and step back, waiting for his answer. 

He goes back to his chair and states.

— Of course, my little angry knight. He participated in the market too, he was adopted by a general from Castile. His current title is Ronald, the godfather of the princess.