Key couldn't believe it; he was a sergeant now. He walked on clouds as he made his way toward where he was told his new office would be. The building they were looking for was located down a street too wide to be considered an alley but too narrow for a horse-drawn cart. The pavement was made from bricks of different sizes that fit together with a tight seam. On either side of the narrow road stood buildings decorated with precise stonework chiseled hundreds of years ago.

"Just don't forget us little people when you're all the way at the top," Trudie said, walking in step with Jory behind Lambro and Keebler.

"Does this mean you can give me the day off?" Jory asked hopefully.

"I really don't know what this means," Key said, still trying to wrap his head around the idea. "I'm pretty sure it's just going to be more of the same thing. Get the list, do what we can, go to the training ground, and hit each other with sticks. No matter what happens, it will still be better than standing watch in the castle."

"Better than cards in the armory," Lambro added. "I feel like I always used to be running late to something. Now, I casually walk into town, solve some murders, and then break for lunch."

"What murders have you solved so far?" Jory asked. "Just wondering."

"One day I will," Lambro said, determined. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of it. Every time I see a dead body lying in the snow or on the river bank, I get a glimpse into the mind of a killer."

"Lambro, if you solve a murder, I'm going to make you a cake personally," Jory said, stopping in front of a short building under the sculpture of a winged man holding a hammer. "I think this is it."

"How many flying, naked, hammer sculptures could there be on a single road?" Trudie pondered out loud, trying the door. It was unlocked.

The group entered a dusty room filled with various piles of discarded materials. Chairs sat in a pile; some were broken, and others appeared whole. A ladder stretched across the floor from one pile of random tools to another. Five desks sat in the back corner beside a pile of shields, bent and broken swords, and discarded spears.

"I think whatever we had planned for today, we can officially save it for next week," Key said, poking through a box of old flags.

"Sergeant, I have a proposition for you," Trudie said looking at the room the way an artist looks at a blank canvas or a block of marble.

"Listen up, everyone," Key's voice lifted everyone's eyes to him. "There will be no formalities when it's just us. None of this sergeant this, sergeant that, talk. If we're in public, absolutely pretend to keep up courtesies." Without waiting for acknowledgment, he faced Trudie. "What is your proposition?"

"First of all, yes, sergeant," she smiled and winked. "Secondly, I think I can do something with this. If you put me in charge, I'll have this place looking better than any office on the street."

"If you have the vision, then by all means, have a go at it," Key said, walking towards the door. "Everyone, Trudie's in charge. I have to get my uniforms tailored. I'll meet you back here soon."

Key walked towards the door while Trudie gave the orders, "Keebler, see if there isn't a broom hiding in here somewhere. Jory, Lambro, go get one of those desks and put it right… Here."

----------------------------------------

At the barracks, Key made his way upstairs and walked into his bunk room. He found Alrick sitting on his bed, reading a book. "Alrick, I have something to tell you."

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Me first, listen to this." Alrick turned back a page and then cleared his throat, "It is no wonder the warlord waited, as a child he chose to chase, at youth he yearned for the yield, fringing on fleeing, not fearing his fate.

"I think that the warlord had lived a long, happy life. Now, he sees that he can't possibly win a battle. While he waits for the enemy to kill him, he reflects on the victories he strived so hard for in the past."

"Have you run into poetry girl again?" Key asked trying to lead the conversation away from any more readings.

"Her name's Lucia, and no," Alrick shut his book. "When I see her again, I'm going to read poetry to her, propose, and as Flibbit would say, entwine in the tangles of holy matrimony."

"It's just been so long," Key said, opening his locker and digging for all of his uniform coats. "She probably doesn't even remember you."

"She will, especially if I read her this," Alrick picked up another book and started flipping through the pages.

"I made sergeant today," Key blurted out before Alrick had the chance to recite another poem.

Alrick dropped his book and stood up. "You made what?"

"Sergeant."

"I heard you the first time; I just didn't believe it! That's Incredible, but who in their right mind would promote you of all people to sergeant?" Alrick smiled, embraced him, and struck his shoulder with a hearty slap. "Congratulations! You made it!"

"Keep it down. I don't want to tell everyone until I start believing it for myself. Right now, I have to get these uniforms tailored so I can," Key tugged on a jacket at the bottom of his locker, dislodging a metal flask. "…get back to my office."

"You have an office?" Alrick picked up the flask and popped the cork off. "This calls for a celebration!"

Before Key had the opportunity to warn him where the flask had come from, Alrick took a long pull and swallowed. He offered it to Key. After a moment, he looked to see why Key glared apprehensively at it. "What?" he asked.

"I was going to tell you that was a gift from Jory," Key said, defending himself from the dangers of the flask.

"I thought you guys stopped going after each other months ago, I'm sure it's fine," Alrick smelled the contents. "It smells fine." He took another drink and swished it around. "It tastes fine," he said finally. He smiled. His teeth were black.

Realization hit Key like a falling boulder. "It wasn't that we stopped going after each other; it's just been my turn for a counterpoise this whole time! Since I never got him back, he probably thought he had won this whole time."

"A Counter-what?"

"It's something Sefulu talks about in training," Key took the flask and put the stopper in. "Go look at your teeth."

Alrick moved over to Key's armor, polished it with his sleeve a few times, and bared his teeth at his reflection. "That son of a fairy's goat got me! You have to get him back!"

"It's been too long," Key watched as Alrick tried cleaning his teeth. "Part of me wants the feud to be over, but the other part of me thinks that if I'm going to get him back, it's got to be something good."

"Aren't you his sergeant now?" Alrick's black teeth reflection asked. "You can do whatever you want. Wait. Does this mean I won't be seeing you around anymore?"

"I don't know what it means," Key said honestly. "Whatever happens, as long as you don't go all Keebler on me, we'll be friends for life."

"That means a lot to me." Alrick turned around and asked honestly, "How is Keebler anyway. I grew used to hearing about him at nearly every morning assembly."

"He's a lot better than people gave him credit for," Key said, stacking the last of his coats in a pile. "After he runs correspondences and comes right back. I swear the guy has never taken a personal hour for himself."

"Or, in our cases, a whole personal afternoon," Alrick smiled, showing his darkened teeth.

"Hey, I think it's coming off," Key pointed at Alrick's face. "Just don't run into poetry girl until your teeth are a natural yellow again. Wouldn't that be a shame?"

"Her name isn't poetry girl, it's Lucia," Alrick said, exasperated. "As soon as you get a girlfriend, we can all go out together. Wouldn't it be cool if they became best friends?"

"Oh yeah," Key laughed. "I suppose it would be nice if our fictional girlfriends became friends. Why don't we introduce them now." Key gestured to the empty space on his right, "Dorcy, this is poetry girl, or rather, Lucia," he smiled at Alrick, "Lucia, this is Dorcy. You two have so much in common that I'm going to let you talk about it while I go get my suits tailored."

"You know what I mean," Alrick suppressed both a frown and a laugh. "What about Trudie? Have you even seen the way she looks at you? It's like she's begging for your gentle caresses. She loves you, man."

"Not so," Key refuted. "She just appreciates me because I treat her with mutual respect. Not to mention, I'm her sergeant now. So that would just complicate things."

"Like rank has ever stopped a relationship before," Alrick said, folding his arms.

"There haven't been women in the guard before," Key said, picking up his pile of coats and turning to leave. "Anyway, I have to go. Let me know if you ever find your sweet Lucia." He left the barracks and walked towards Alpenrose.