Emancipation

Kyr couldn't believe what he just heard. 

Him? Save the world?

The warden turned to the inquisitors in protest, but Kyr didn't hear a single syllable.

Instead, his eyes blurred and his mind whisked away to a distant memory.

Kyr remembered how King Rewald looked so much like the charlatan selling junk at the market. He wasn’t terribly old, but the years weren’t kind to him either. Sunken eyes, wisps of hair, a sense of frailty despite his weight. Maybe that's why he wore vibrant clothes and jewelry. The charlatan wore similar things. 

The difference was the promise they sold.

“The seers have decided,” the king declared as he stood in front of his glittering throne. “The man kneeling before me is the one fated to save this world! The Hero... of the Creed!”

The ceremony at the royal court of Esmerand was extravagant and needlessly droll, but if their legends and myths were true, the prophecy they celebrated was an answer to the threat that loomed over the continent.

The king ordered the hero to rise, then handed him a sword with glass on its blunt side and a feathery hilt. The weapon looked impractical, but Kyr could sense mana swirling about it.

Aven Naswalt stood in the resplendent silver-and-gold armor they put him in. They tried to tame his wild hair and even taught him how to stand properly, but the hero with the boyish face and emerald eyes still raised his sword with a slouch. He beamed a smile too honest and lowborn.

Still, the royal court erupted in applause. It was mostly the nobility in attendance, but the magistrates, the sacred order, and foreign delegates were there too, each with their veiled opinions.

Kyr had yet to know Aven then, but he could sense the man was destined for greatness. They all wanted him to save the world.

And now, seven years later, the inquisitor Leatrix Ryhart asked him the same thing. 

The same damned promise.

Kyr blinked and he was back in the room of sanctuary, hung in a cage like some animal. In front of him, the two inquisitors nodded to each other. The red one handed the warden a piece of paper.

“This is a royal pardon from Princess Irenea Vastillia,” the male inquisitor said. “And if you read the rest of the documents attached here and here, it orders this prison to release Kyr Solian before the day ends. We are, as you know dear warden, pressed for time.”

“The princess?” the warden said in disbelief. He looked between the papers he was holding and Kyr. “The king is dead and you want us to release this man?”

“You can check the legitimacy of the royal seal as much as you like,” Leatrix said. “But you will need to do it soon.”

Does my opinion not matter? Kyr thought, but he kept his mouth shut. Truth or lie, he'd take any reason to get out of his chains.

The warden eventually stormed out of the room to confer with the other guards.

“I was expecting you to be all skin and bones,” Leatrix said to Kyr. “But aside from how pale you appear… you still have muscle in you.”

“They fed me well,” Kyr replied.

It wasn’t true, of course, but Kyr kept himself alive. Sane. He didn’t have the ability to practice magic, so instead he trained himself physically. Not that it did him much good in this place.

“The better question is, why did they let you live at all?” Leatrix mused. “There was more than enough reason to have you executed.”

Kyr stared at the woman. “If you’re seriously asking me, then I don’t have a clue. What are you playing here, inquisitor?”

“I meant everything I told you,” Leatrix said. “The world has become much more dangerous in the time you’ve been locked away. Beasts have grown more savage. Crops are withering. The citizens are afraid and prone to violence. And then there’s the issue with our neighbors. Most countries found it dubious that the solution to this world-ending crisis lay within our borders. Their leaders think we are behind the numbers. It’s a miracle nobody has invaded yet, though the merchant republics already amassed an army south of Tristen. Many believe it's a matter of time before they take matters into their own hands.”

That was a lot to take in, but it made sense given their closeness to the end of the countdown.

Barely a few months left… Kyr wondered. I need to see it with my own eyes.

“Has anyone learned of why the sky shattered?” Kyr asked. “It’s been more than seven years since it happened.”

“No,” the red inquisitor answered. “Some suggest the answer lay within the Spire of Knowledge. But we all know what happened there.”

Kyr glared at the man.

“I don’t mean to suggest you did it, Mister Solian. Only that the spire’s desecration may be the reason for it.”

Along with so much more information about the apocalypse itself.

Whoever it was that framed Kyr and killed Aven had everything planned carefully.

After some time, the warden returned with his men. He exchanged a few words with the inquisitors, then handed the letter of royal pardon back to Leatrix. After another, more heated exchange, the warden ordered his guards to lower Kyr from his cage. It stung when they unwound the chains from his body.

After they were done, Kyr was left sitting naked on the floor; wearing only a set of tattered shirt and trousers, along with the magic-sealing manacles around his wrists.

Kyr couldn’t believe how far they were taking this farce.

Dared he hope it was real?

Leatrix offered him her hand. He took it.

“Forgive us if we don’t undo the manacles, inquisitor,” the warden said with his nose upturned, as if he was in the presence of something putrid. “Even if the letter from the princess ordered us to let this man go, it said nothing about his magical restraints. You’ll have to figure out how to get them off yourselves.”

“We understand,” Leatrix replied.

The warden gave Kyr one last look of spite, then turned his heel instead of saying anything. All the other guards followed suit until Kyr and the inquisitors were the only ones left in the room.

No nasty remark? Kyr thought as he rubbed his neck. Not even a spit to my face?

He’s not done with me yet.

“So… you’re really doing this,” Kyr said to the inquisitors. “You’re letting me go. After all the hate and discrimination that put me here.”

“It’s not just us,” Leatrix said. “There were two magistrates and many more supporters that spoke in your favor over the years.”

“Funny I never once saw them.”

“Most of your supporters had been silenced.” Leatrix turned to her partner. “I don’t like how the guards left us, Cinza. We need to leave this place as fast as we can.”

Cinza?

Wasn't he... Talos-something?

“That wasn’t the name you gave me earlier,” Kyr said. 

“That’s because I’m not actually an inquisitor, Master Solian,” the man in red said, tipping his peaked cap. “I only played the role so we appeared more legitimate. But I assure you, Lady Leatrix here is most certainly an inquisitor. She spent a great deal of her life training to be one.”

What?

“What’s going on here?” Kyr demanded. “Who are you two really?”

Leatrix grimaced. “Like I said, most of your supporters have been silenced. It took for the king to die to afford us this opportunity.” She made for the door of the sanctuary room, then looked warily outside.

“My lady is probably the only one in the inquisitor’s office who believes in your innocence,” Cinza said with a somber smile. “You should’ve seen her present her case to the magistrates. It’s what caught the eye of the princess.”

The princess.

The mischievous grin of a madwoman flashed in Kyr’s mind, the depths of her cerulean eyes holding a wealth of intrigue.

Princess Irenea briefly joined Aven’s quest seven years ago disguised as a traveling scholar. But she left after they cleared the Spire of Strength when she was outed. Had she been with them in the second spire, things might have gone differently.

Still, the princess was never there for Kyr during his many trials. Not as a witness nor as a friend. Nothing. And now she was behind his emancipation?

“We need to go now,” Leatrix said from near the doorway. “Cinza, carry the sorcerer if you must. I don’t think we’re as welcome in this prison as we were before.”

Cinza gestured to help Kyr, but he refused it.

“I can walk,” Kyr said. “And you can bet the warden isn’t done with me."

“You think they’ll kill us on our way out?” Cinza asked.

“For as long as I can’t use magic they’ll try,” Kyr replied with a snort. “They’re probably wary of you two. And the space in this prison is tight. My best guess is they’ll hit us from behind as soon as we step outside the building.”

“Good thing we studied the layout of this prison then,” Cinza said, then made the glass dagger on his hip glow bright for a second. “There are other exits we could take. Our friends outside should be ready to spot us.”