I put my pencil down, just in time for the proctor to announce that the testing period had ended.

What a boring fucking morning.

The first day of classes was a dull necessity. The kingdom wanted to be sure that each of its subjects could read, write, and do basic math - that was the primary objective of the year of study. They offered subjects in each, but if you were lucky enough to come from a family that knew two from four, you could test out of the rudimentary classes, opening yourself up to take more of the advanced ones.

This was that test.

Overall, nothing to complain about. The math was a little more advanced than I’d expected from a medieval knights and magic world, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. There was no ambiguous writing section for some snarky glasses-wearing cunt to mark me down on because she “didn’t like my tone”. The reading and vocabulary stuff was reasonably bullshit-free - I’ve done some tests where it’s like English as a Second Language - for Native Speakers. Who the fuck knows that “tyro” means “beginner, or novice.”? Nobody. It’s a made up word for hoity-toities to identify themselves to each other so they can form a clot at the corner of the party.

My biggest problem with these kinds of tests is that they spawn nerds. Nerds are attracted to standardized tests like flies are attracted to shit. Flies eat shit, by the way. And they use it as a breeding ground. Imagine how attractive porn would be if it tasted like steak. That’s how attractive standardized tests are to nerds. They’re psychotic, I don’t know what made them this way. It’s like their moms decided to eat nothing but unflavored tofu while they were pregnant or something. Jesus, at least drop the fucking baby or something - the world has too many calculator zombies already. The oceans are filling up with plastic wrap from trading cards. Sea turtles are choking on condoms. Sorry, that one was my bad - if a chick was crazy enough to sleep with me, I just assumed I would have to flush the thing afterwards. Not gonna leave that volatile genetic material laying around in a wastebasket, waiting for her to come up with some god-awful get-rich-quick scheme. Anyway.

My morning had gone surprisingly smoothly - I’d woken up hangover-free, 360 noscoped out of bed, and landed without a splash - though there was still a damp spot on the ground from where Ursa had slept the previous night. I don’t know what kind of demons that girl had to fight, but she must have sweated off at least ten pounds. I’d be disgusted if I wasn’t so impressed.

Ninety more to go babe… I believe in you.

Today was my first day wearing the school uniform - normally only the wealthier students have uniforms provided to them by the school, but for a VVIP such as myself, Wylie had gone out of her way to have a few sets delivered to me. It was pretty much the same for guys and girls, just a shirt and jacket with light blue accents, along with some fabricy, leathery pants. Sorry for the technical jargon, it’s just that I don’t really give a fuck about fashion.

The only reason I’m bringing all this up is because it’s critical to understanding the nightmare that unfolded next.

After the test, I had a few hours to kill before my first magic class, and I couldn’t think of a better way to do so than to lay around in my bed and sleep off the post-test fatigue.

It had rained last night, so I was stepping carefully down the muddy roads that separated the school buildings. There were tests scheduled throughout the day, so the streets were constantly busy with students rushing this way and that.

As I watched, one of the less careful students tried to brush past a cart that was rolling down the street, only to get caught in a muddy splash from the wheels. She squealed in horror - and I realized that the girl was Arrabella. Before I could avert my gaze, our eyes met. She recognized me, and she could tell that I could recognize her. Normally, I wouldn’t intervene in a situation like this. Chivalry is dead, and rotting in the sun. However… Jerith seemed like a fantastic person to know, so I’d jump at any chance to do him a favor.

“Hey…. Arrabella?” I opened.

She spent a moment weeping over her filthy uniform, then finally acknowledged me.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Oh, hey…” she said weakly. “Burt? No, that was the huge guy…”

My eyelid twitched.

“Bradley. But you can call me Brad.” I corrected. “You alright?”

“Does it look like it!? My uniform is ruined, and my stupid test is about to start! Everyone’s going to laugh at me and think I’m nasty and that I don’t wash myself or care about my appearance! Ohhhh…..” she moaned.

“Wanna swap uniforms?”

She stared at me, disgusted. “No! I don’t want to look like a filthy-” she stopped herself. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine.” I said, waving my hands soothingly to nullify her bitch chakras. “You’re pretty filthy as-is, though. My uniform might be an improvement. I don’t have class till later, so I can go back and change, but if you’re in a rush…” I trailed off, letting the offer hang there.

“We’re basically wearing the same thing, you know.” I added.

She thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay, let’s swap. Just the outer stuff though - nothing else!” she added, blushing.

“If I try something, you can have Jerith send his people after me.” I replied evenly.

“Jerith wouldn’t do that!” Arrabella scoffed. “He’s a nice guy - he doesn’t like conflict.”

We found a small back alley and ducked behind some piles of scrapped building materials. I checked my corners to make sure we had complete privacy.

Pretty sure I saw some people pissing here yesterday, don’t think anyone will care if we -

My train of thought suddenly exploded when I turned around to discover that Arrabella had already taken off her dirty clothes. She held them out to me, wearing nothing but a white lace bralette and matching panties.

“Here, put these on. Quickly, I’m in a- hey!”

Shit, guess I forgot to use my periphery.

“Sorry!” I blushed, turning around. I handed my clothes to her as I took them off. The advantage of being such a scrawny wimp is that our uniforms were about the same size - unfortunately, the leggings on the girls’ uniform were a bit tighter than the guys’.

Fuck, why didn’t I see this coming…

As I bent over, wrestling the leggings around my feet, Arrabella shrieked. I whipped around, to find her staring, horrified, at my… you know… sanctity-of-marriage belt.

“What is that thing! Are you some kind of… sex slave!?”

“Whoa, whoa!” I started, struggling to come up with a perfectly reasonable explanation for why I would be wearing such a ridiculous article of bondage gear.

“It’s… the thing is…”

I tried to take a step, but stumbled - the pants still weren’t pulled up all the way. As luck would have it, that stumble took me into Arrabella, who fell back against the wall and let out another ear-splitting scream. I groaned and held my ears.

Damn, this chick and Stella should start a band - The Banshees

“WHO GOES THERE!!!!”

…

I’d go into the rest of the incident, but I have this thing called pride, so…

All I’ll say is that it’s difficult to explain the intricacies of a situation while you’re being dragged through the streets by a couple of guards - with your metal underwear winking in the sun.

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

I stood up grudgingly from my seat in the back corner of the classroom.

Of course, the elderly magic instructor wanted to begin the year by having us all introduce ourselves. Of fucking course.

On the bright side, there were only thirty or so students present. Still, they would know. And word would spread. Oh well.

I gathered myself, and greeted the class the way I’d been instructed by the enforcement officer.

“Hi, my name is Bradley Razzetti…”

A pen dropped. I winced.

“...and I am required by Castellan edict to inform you that I am a registered sex offender.”

A hushed silence greeted my words. People stared at me, then at my weird purple shackles, then back at me again.

“Oh, that makes sense.” came a voice from the corner finally.

I whirled around, ready to pound the asshole who would say something like that.

It was the pink-haired elf girl, sitting innocently at her desk, eyes wide open. Of course it was her. Why, though? If you know that I’m such a terrible scumfuck, why would you antagonize me like that? I sought the answer in her eyes. And because I’m a genius, I found it.

She was hiding it well… from everyone but me.

This girl was a bitch.