A Key that Fits Nothing You Own
@cburns8 min read
There was a boy shivering in a dungeon. He was, of course, innocent, as all criminals are. Him? Steal? It was preposterous. As the boy slowly froze, he attempted to bury himself in the hay piled in the corner of his cell. The hay was wet and mildewy but it made the boy slightly warmer. Just as the boy settled in to try to sleep, he felt something hard poking into his back. The boy went to grab the annoyance; but as his hand closed around the metal, a light began to shine above him. He stared and began to shake. Is this the end? The light to guide me to the next life? Perhaps the next one will be better.
The light began to tremble and a low moan emanated from it, slowly rising in pitch until the boy felt that his eardrums would burst. Then silence.
A woman’s chilling voice echoed through the cell, “I see you have found my key.”
Trembling, the boy pulled his hand out from under the hay. He did, in fact, hold a large key in his hand. The key was deep black and reflective like obsidian, but cool to the touch like metal. The boy proffered the key to the light. “I didn’t steal it or anything. I just found it here. I wasn’t going to take it. I just-” The boy cut off as laughter reverberated through him.
“No, no. I don’t want it back,” cooed the voice. “I just wanted to see who had found it this time.”
“Oh. So... I can keep it?” asked the boy. “What does it go to?”
“It goes to everything except for anything that’s yours.”
“But I don’t have anything anyways,” replied the boy.
“Perfect.” And the light and its voice disappeared at once.
The boy sat and stared at the key for a while before he began to glance at the lock to his cell. Anything? The boy approached his cell gate and looked between the oversized key and the lock on the door. It surely won’t fit. But still the boy went to try it, and as he reached around through the bars, he felt the key warm and watched it shrink. The key slid into the lock and the boy twisted it easily. The latch on the gate popped open and the boy pushed gently on the door. It swung open with a gentle creek. Not so bad. The boy used the key again at the entrance to the guard house that protected the dungeon and slipped out into the city.
It was dark as the boy roamed the streets, and the half-moon gleamed gently in the night sky. Though the boy was free, he had no money, no home, and no food. But he did have the key. First, the boy ducked into the doorway of a bakery. A few minutes later he emerged with his mouth stuffed full of yesterday's leftover muffins and more cramped into his pockets. Then, the boy walked past a merchant’s office, but he doubled back. He was in the building, then the lockbox, and back out with a sack of coins before the moon had moved in the sky. Full and rich, the boy headed to an inn to finally get some sleep.
Over the next week, the boy robbed enough merchants, traders, and tax collectors that he didn’t need to steal his food anymore. He would never need to steal anything again. Besides, the people he stole money from had so much that they might not even notice it was gone. What was a few coppers, and a little gold, to them?
The following months were spent relaxing in parks, bathing in noble’s enormous home bathtubs, and occasionally creating some room in overfull lockboxes. It was in one of these parks near the castle that the boy met a girl. The boy sat on a bench eating a warm bun stuffed with shredded beef when a girl came running down the path. She was beautiful and the boy enjoyed the sight of her hair bouncing as she ran. She kept looking over her shoulder and when she passed in front of the boy she tripped on his foot and tumbled into the packed dirt of the path. Wide-eyed, she looked up at the boy. “Uh oh,” she said. “They are going to be furious with you.”
“With me!” exclaimed the boy.
“Yep. It’s time to run,” the girl said calmly as she grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him along. Oh well, thought the boy and they took off together. As they ran, the girl laughed and before long the boy was laughing too even though he wasn’t exactly sure why. They ran along the path. They cut through a garden startling some old ladies and songbirds alike. They ducked under an old stone archway and then were standing in front of an ancient gnarled oak. “Up you go,” commanded the girl. Who is she to tell me what to do, thought the boy as he climbed the tree. The girl sprung up the tree in a few graceful movements and they sat next to each other on one of the enormous branches. “I am Emilia,” said the girl. “What is your name?”
The boy had no name, so he decided to give himself one. “Oak.”
Emilia looked from the boy to the tree. “I think you are a liar, Oak.”
Oak didn’t respond and Emilia didn’t press the issue. She asked him questions about his life and Oak made up answers and stories. Emilia laughed. Oak tried to ask her about her own life but she mostly dodged answering. Oak didn’t mind. It had been a long time since he had talked and laughed with anyone. As the sun set, they said their goodbyes, but also made a promise to meet at the tree in a couple days to see each other again.
The boy and the girl met often after that. What started as friendship became romance and eventually, Oak told Emilia about the key. Of course, Emilia didn’t believe him, so they used the key to sneak into a nearby noble’s house where they made love for the first time. That was when Emilia finally told him that she was the princess.
A few weeks later, Oak wanted to give Emilia something special, but what do you get for a princess that she cannot get herself? What could be the key to her heart? Upon hearing its name called, the key in Oak’s pocket warmed and when he reached inside he pulled out a ring.
“Oak what are you-” Emilia looked startled. “Are you serious?"
Oak looked at the engagement ring in his hand stunned. But he made up his mind and found it was an easy decision. “If you’ll have me,” he said.
“Of course,” beamed Emilia before a shadow fell across her face. “But what are we going to tell my parents?”
“We’ll figure it out. I have got quite a lot of gold these days”
The next day, the girl took the boy to an assortment of tailors and seamstresses and the boy became a lord. Not a real lord, but a lord for all appearances. Oak made his debut in court a few days after as a travelling Duke from a distant kingdom. The wealth he displayed left no doubts about his claim. No doubts except for the Prince’s. The Prince saw the way his sister looked at Duke Oak and distrusted him immediately. And when their engagement was later announced the Prince distrusted him even more. The Prince was not a protective brother, but he was a protective prince, and he believed that the throne should one day be his.
One night, the Prince tailed Oak and Emilia as they snuck around the castle and explored the parts forbidden even to them. He watched Duke Oak use the same key on many doors and when he handed the key back to Emilia it became her ring. He decided to ask his sister about it. Princess Emilia, trusting her brother, told him all about the key, but made him swear to keep it a secret. That was no problem for the Prince. I won’t have someone else chasing my prize. So the Prince watched Duke Oak’s and Princess Emilia’s movements, but he didn’t tell a soul about the key.
A year later, King Oak sat in bed with Queen Emilia laying beside him. He was fiddling with the key, turning it over and over in his hands. What a useless key you’ve become. Now that we own the castle, you don’t open its doors. What need have I to steal from merchants? Wait, why are you not a ring? King Oak set the key on his nightstand. He would give it back to Emilia in the morning. He pulled the sheets up and turned to spoon Emilia. She was cold.
The Prince strode down the hallway. The timing of the night was critical. He jogged the last few steps to the guard room and pretended to be out of breath. “Guards! The King has killed our Queen! With me at once!” The Prince immediately turned as if to go running off and hid his grin.
“Men grab your weapons! Our Queen’s killer must not slip away!” ordered the Guard’s commander. After a brief commotion, the Prince and a dozen guards stormed down the hallways toward the royal chambers. The Prince kicked the door in.
“You won’t get away with this vermin!” he roared. The guards grabbed the shocked King who still held his wife’s body and pulled him out of bed. The Prince noticed the key on the nightstand and slipped it into his pocket. “Take him to the cells. We’ll have his trial and execution tomorrow,” the Prince told the guards.
That night the Prince, now King Regent, visited King Oak in the dungeon. “Why? Why would you do all this?” demanded Oak.
“You and that brat were simply unfit to rule. I was raised for this. I will be a greater leader of our Kingdom,” the Prince replied cooly. “This key is quite interesting too though.”
“The key?” Oak gave a humorless chuckle. “It’s useless to you now. Emilia told me that you know how it works.”
“Yes, she did. I already gave it a little test and it seems she told the truth. Do you want to know what my first action as King Regent was? I granted you ownership of this cell. Here. Keep your key.” The King Regent threw the key at Oak’s head. It soared over and bounced off the back wall of the cell. Oak knew the key could do nothing for him now. He broke and he wept. He wept for his wife, for himself, for the unfairness of the world.
There was a boy shivering in a dungeon. He was, of course, innocent, as all criminals are. Him? Kill? It was preposterous. As the boy slowly froze, he attempted to bury himself in the hay piled in the corner of his cell.