Dawmeria Installment Two

******THIS STORY IS BEING REWRITTEN. CHECK OUT FOR IT LATER********

It's dead week, and things have drastically changed since last week. Due to a tragic death in my teacher's family, that class has been canceled for the rest of the semester along with it's final. Suddenly, I find myself facing only one last paper (a three to four page paper that will take about an hour and half to do, research included), and one last final, which will be done and over with at the beginning of the week. In short, Martin's going to be coming back next week, since I'll have time to edit. The problem is that I've already planned out three editions of The Dawmeria Soul. The easiest thing, and most fair to you readers, is that I'll post the third installment on Monday, and Martin will be back Thursday.

Story #2, Dawmeria

******THIS STORY IS BEING REWRITTEN. CHECK OUT FOR IT LATER********

Oh, gosh. This spring weather has given me Cabin Fever. I WANT OUT!!!

Alright, I got that out of my system. Welcome to Thrusday's special edition. As mentioned last week, I'm not going to have any time to edit my Rebellious Spy because of finals. In its place, I present another story, the Dawmeria Soul. If you're a bit thrown off by the strange writing style at the beginning, don't worry. It will go away before too much longer.

Just a bit of background, the Dawmeria Soul is a story I started when I needed a break from Martin (I have to step back every once in a while so when I look back at what I was writing, I can say to myself "What was I thinking?" That's just how editing goes). This story is also not planned out very well, unlike Martin's where I've planned his entire life. Yes, I know the characters and their quirks, and I know the basic conflict, but this time, the characters are leading me on the journey. It's really fun to write.

Fred Chief

I'd like to welcome everyone to spring! (Since it seems that it finally decided to show up) And with spring comes finals... the next three weeks are going to hurt. Though, here is some good news: this post surpasses the half way point of my 50,000 words! (although, as I said before, it's not even close to the end)
Alright, on with the story. It's time to introduce one of the most important characters in Martin's life. Fred Chief, it's time for you to walk on the stage!
**********
“Someone’s coming.”

Martin didn’t even glance up from his paperwork to see the shared look between his friends. Thomas and Luke, newly freed from traffic duty, stood up and went for the door.

“You’ve got to teach me that trick,” Luke muttered, returning to his seat. Flipping the chair around and sitting on it the wrong way, he glared at him. “Or is it one of those ‘clues’ your wrong reflection keeps bothering you about?”

“Actually,” Martin replied, unfazed by the heated tone Luke used, “I didn’t have any nightmares last night. Who’s coming?”

“It’s Fred,” Thomas answered, who still stood by the door. Smiling, Martin left his report and went to the door. Fred reached them before he could jump out.

“Ah,” Fred Chief said, grinning. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

Martin laughed at Fred’s attempt at lying. From the profound limp, he guessed the general had just arrived and hadn’t walked around enough to ease his stiff leg. Martin did another quick glance at Fred, assuring himself the general was still in good health, limp excluded. Large in stature, with his strong face covered in a short beard, Fred looked the image of a seasoned general. Even the limp, which he claimed he got during the battle of Fort Bree, gave Chief the impression of one who had authority.

“It’s good to see you, Fred,” Martin said, returning the general’s firm handshake. “So, are you here for official business?”

Fred chuckled. “Yes and no. Actually, I came here to see you. While here I’ll get some business done. I’m glad I caught you, though.”

Martin laughed again. Fred always seemed to be able to catch him at the Tree. Taking seats around the table, the general nodded at the paperwork. “Your latest mission?”

Martin rolled his eyes as he sat back down. “You could say that.” He noticed the shared look between his friends. Thomas’s expression was uneasy and Luke’s annoyed. Chief also noticed the exchange.

“Controversy?” he asked, trying to covertly read the report.

“That about sums up what has been happening.” Martin reluctantly related the events, with his version of finding the glove in the Venter camp. This time, his friends kept blank faces as he told the lie; Martin knew he would be grilled about it later. He had his reasons for lying. Fred was a dedicated Aeternan, his rank was proof of that. Martin knew if he even suggested to him of the possibility of him being prince, the general would immediately tell the queen and he would find himself suddenly whisked away to Nacre.

“What?” Chief breathed, pushing himself half out of the chair. “The crown prince is alive?”

Martin stared at the general, surprised. He only told him about the Connection.

“Yes,” he answered, “I found the Connection in that camp. Of course, I didn’t know what it was until the queen got a look at it.”

“The queen?” Fred asked, sitting back down with a thump. “She’s here?”

“Yep,” Luke answered, his arms folded on the back of the chair. “She brought the princess with her as well. We’re supposed to protect her against kidnappers.”

Fred frowned, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his upper lip. “Seems that Abigail has been busy…” he muttered to himself. Martin wondered idly if Chief knew the queen well enough to use only her first name. The general had been known to use first names for people he never met.

“And she’s getting busier,” he interrupted. “They’ve already begun searching for the prince.”

“How?”

He explained the list of young men they were developing and the requirements to be on that list. Chief held up a hand.

“Martin,” he said, now leaning forward. “You meet those requirements.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I’ve already had an interview with Sona and the queen.”

“This is a problem,” Fred muttered. He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Has the queen announced this to anyone else?”

“No,” Thomas replied, finally sitting down at the table. “She’s only told us here. I don’t think she’s planning on telling the rest of Aeterna yet.”

“Of course she shouldn’t,” Luke argued. “Yes, news of the prince would boost our moral, but what if Terk hears this?” They all shivered as they thought of what Terk would do once news reached him.

“Then this needs to be kept quiet as long as possible.” Fred sighed, collapsing. Rubbing his stiff knee, he stared up at the ceiling. “I doubt Abigail will want to keep it quiet though. She’d figure that the more people who know about the prince, the more help she’ll get at finding him.”

Martin just stared down at his report. He should be helping the queen find her son, even if it did mean it was him. But he needed evidence. He couldn’t have worked his entire life for nothing.

“I don’t think he’ll be safer though,” he did admit to them. Fred lowered his gaze, frowning at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it,” Martin said. “Rumors of who the prince is will run wild, and Terk will chase those rumors. People will get hurt. The prince is safest now because no one knows where to find him.”

“You’ve got a point,” Luke grudgingly agreed. “It is sort of hard to be in danger when no one can find you.”

“Unless your job is already dangerous,” Fred attempted at joking. Martin and his friends could only force their laughter out. It wasn’t too far from the truth.
**********
Fred Chief bid the three spies farewell after Martin pointed out that his report needed to be done soon. He rubbed his beard as he walked through the halls of the Tree, confused. The prince alive? Could it be possible? After sixteen years, they finally discovered he was alive? What had happened?

But what was worst about the whole development was the possibility of Martin being that prince. He shook his head at the thought. No, Martin couldn’t be. He remembered back to the day he had met the young spy, a street urchin at the time. The child had dashed for the garbage shoot when he caught him stealing food from the kitchen. Chief had caught him by the back of the shirt, and was surprised to see the fight the child put up. It was that fighting spirit, the determined look in his eyes, that convinced Chief that Martin belonged in Aeterna.

But after he made the offer to Martin, he ran. Chief had given up on ever seeing him again until the next day, when Martin was sitting on the dock his ship was anchored, his belongings packed in a food sack. It was probably then when he knew that the child would become one of the most powerful men in Aeterna. He couldn’t say why he thought that, but he believed it.

It would be ironic, Fred admitted to himself, if Martin was the prince.

As troubling as the possibility of it, he did have a larger problem. He was a special general in the Aeternan Army. He was the leader of the Ghosts. The Ghosts, the elite of Aeterna’s armed forces. Under his command, he controlled the best of infantry, spies, and sailors, those tired of common duty. And once news of the prince reached the general public, his job and those of his Ghosts would get harder. No doubt Terk would tear Aeterna apart trying to find him.

“There’s a reason they call him the Mad General,” Chief thought bitterly. News of the prince would escalate the war.

“One thing at a time,” he thought, remembering the business he had mentioned to Martin. With a sigh, he reluctantly made his way to Suit’s office, hoping the queen wasn’t with him.

“Is Suit in?” he asked Robby when he arrived. Suit’s assistant nodded.

“He’s frustrated with you,” Robby said. “You never did respond to his letter.”

“I was busy,” Fred said, waving the comment off. “Best go in and see what the old man wants.” He knocked once on the door before opening it without waiting for an answer. Thankfully, Suit was the only one in his office. The Spy Master was bent over reports. He started to glare up at whoever had the gall of entering his office without permission when he recognized him.

“Oh,” he mumbled, “it’s you.”

“Really, Suit,” Chief replied, taking a seat and rubbing his aching knee. “You shouldn’t be surprised by unexpected visitors anymore. You had the queen and her daughter suddenly show up at your front step. Why should I surprise you?”

“I’m more annoyed than surprised,” Suit almost snapped. “Do you have any idea what has been happening these last few days?”

“Martin told me.”

Suit snorted. “Then you know what kind of work that’s involved in this project.” He sighed deeply. “Her Majesty has some particular ideas about how to find her son. I really wish you’d talk with her…”

“Suit,” Chief snapped. “You know why I can’t talk to her now. I’d probably get my head bitten off. Despite the good news she’s received.”

“Just wishing,” Suit grumbled. The Spy Master knew better than provoke him. He had a talent of giving ugly retribution. “What are your thoughts about this… development?”

Fred sighed. “Honestly,” he replied, moving his stiff leg to a better position, “I am not looking forward to the reactions of everyone when the news gets out.”

“It will be a pain, yes,” Suit agreed. “But we’ll have to deal with it. The queen can’t keep this quiet for much longer. The people have a right to know.”

There were no arguments from there. The people did deserve to know of their prince. He belonged to them in ways they didn’t understand. The prince probably didn’t understand it either.

“Yes,” Fred said, “we’ll deal with it when it comes. In the meantime, you wanted to talk to me about something. At least, that’s what your letter hinted.”

“It concerns Martin,” Suit said, the first hint of a smile coming to his face. “I want to make him the Alex. Officially.”

Fred sat up, shocked. He relaxed as his knee protested his sudden change of posture. What Suit proposed was immense. It was a well known spying title. The Alex of Aeterna, the top most spy in Aeterna. Suit was the current Alex; he held the title for over four decades. He was the youngest appointed Alex too, at the age seventeen.

“You waited until Martin was eighteen,” he accused. “You sneaky…”

“So what?” Suit asked, smirking. “I at least wanted to keep one title as long as I could.”

“Prideful,” Fred muttered, but started grinning himself. This was great news for the young man. “Have you told him yet?”

The Spy Master shook his head. “No, not yet. I was waiting for you to show up before I tell him.”

Fred frowned, confused. “Why?”

“When Martin swears himself to the title,” he explained, “there will have to be someone to witness the event. Someone other than the current Alex. You’re the closest Martin has to a guardian. And you were the one to find him at Loman. He would have probably asked you to witness it.”

The Ghost general chuckled softly. “I was the first to see potential in him.” Then he remembered what he had learned earlier that day. Martin was on a list, a list of those who could possibly be the prince. He decided not to mention it to the Spy Master. Martin had worked hard to get the respect the title would offer him. Chief would not ruin that chance for him.

“When’s the ceremony?” he asked.

“Once he turns in his report to me.” Suit walked from behind his desk to a shelf where he kept his brandy. Pouring two glasses, he gave one to him. “Shall we drink to Martin’s success?”

“Yes,” Fred said, raising his glass. “To Martin’s success.”
**********
Robby had waved him to Suit’s office, though grumbling about how Chief had yet to leave the office and muttering something to the effect of being glad of not being the one to disturb them. Martin rolled his eyes at the comments as he knocked on the door. Chief and Suit had been known to butt heads before, but from the normal volume of conversation on the other side, he guessed today wasn’t one of those days.

“Enter,” Suit’s barking command came.

Opening the door and stepping inside, he saw Chief and Suit sitting down, both with drinks in their hands. “Sir,” he said, handing the report over the desk to the Spy Master’s receiving hands, “my report.”

Suit quickly glanced through it. “All seems to be in order, like usual.” Martin bowed slightly and was about to turn to leave when Suit did something surprising. He laid the report down on his desk, laced his fingers together, and smiled. Martin paused, uncertain what was happening. Suit rarely smiled at being given reports to read.

“Martin,” he said, his smile becoming wide. “I have some good news for you. I’ve decided it’s time you become the Alex of Aeterna.”

Martin froze, certain he had heard the Spy Master wrong. The last few days had been one shock after another, most of the shocks he still didn’t believe. He quickly looked at Chief, to assure himself of the reality of the moment. The Ghost general’s smile matched the Spy Master’s. He found himself beginning to grin.

“Speechless I see,” Chief chuckled. He stood, careful of his stiff leg, took his arm and gave it a firm shake. “Congratulations, Martin. You’ve earned this.”

“Yes,” Suit agreed, coming from behind his desk and giving him a similar firm shake. “You’ve earned the right to be the Alex. If you accept the title, I would like to swear you to it now.”

His answer was immediate. “Tell me what to say.”

“Kneel down,” Suit told him. Martin dropped to his knees at once. Suit also knelt and produced a smooth stone from his pocket. Holding it out, he ordered him to place his hands on top of it. Martin did so, unsurprised to feel how cold the stone was, but it did feel unnaturally smooth.

“Fred Chief will witness this event,” Suit said in a deliberate official tone. He and Martin faced each other, neither breaking eye contact. “Martin of Aeterna, do you swear upon your honor to uphold the title of Alex and everything the title implies?”

“I swear to do so, upon my honor,” Martin answered, feeling the stone grow warm.

“Do you swear upon your honor to do whatever is necessary for the good of Aeterna, even to disobey orders and to end your life?”

“I swear to do so, upon my honor.” He felt as if his fingers were burning.

“Then, Martin of Aeterna,” Suit said, a corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, “I place upon you the title Spy Alex.” The stone flashed hot then suddenly became cold once again. “Your oaths are binding to Aeterna now. You only answer to the magic of this nation. Should you break your oaths, the magic will kill you. Your life now belongs to Aeterna.”

Suit took the stone again and placed it back in his pocket. Martin glanced at his hands, still feeling a slight tingle. He had known what the ceremony entailed, about being bound to Aeterna. There were many similar oaths others took to become servants of Aeterna. Generals, public officials, and even regular citizens. But the bound wasn’t nearly as strong as what the Santers had, no oath could ever become that strong, but he was now bound. No one could ever claim he wasn’t Aeternan.

“Now then,” Suit said, standing up, “we’ll have to sign the papers so we’ll have a record of it.” Martin chuckled, but also stood and signed the paper after Suit did. He handed the feather pen to Chief to sign it.

“Well,” Chief said, picking the contract up, “it’s official. Martin is the Alex.” He grinned. “How do you plan to celebrate your new title?”

Martin thought, considering. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Take a nap?”

The two older men laughed at the unexpected response. “I’d take that nap,” Suit suggested, still chuckling. “You’re going to spend the rest of your life being busy. Take the naps when they come.”

“I think you should,” Fred agreed. “Naps come rarely when you get older.”

After another round of congratulations and remarks about what would be in store for him, he finally left the office an hour after entering. Robby tried to ask him what had happened, but Martin just smiled and walked away. He was going to follow their advice and take that nap. Especially considering how little sleep he had during the last week. However, on his way to his room, his two friends caught up with him.

“What did Suit want this time?” Luke asked. “Did it have to do something with the prince?”

“He’s smiling,” Thomas pointed out. “I don’t think so.”

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Martin said, reaching the door of his room. He opened the door and almost closing it on them when he smirked at them. “I’ve been made the Alex. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some studying to do.” The look of surprise on their faces was worth the sudden door slam. He laughed as he fell on top of his bed. Grinning, he knew he had finally overcome the reputation of being a street orphan. Stretching, he fell asleep with a smile.
********
“Of course,” Martin thought as he stood before the strange mirror again. “I was wondering why I wasn’t here last night.”

The mirror-man sat at a fine carved table with silver candle sticks. From the faint fragrance in the air, Martin guessed the candles were scented as well. The other side of the mirror screamed wealth, something he was never comfortable with. The man was writing something, though he seemed half-hearted about it.

“Why did you swear to have a bond you already have?” the image asked, not even looking up from his paper.

Martin groaned. The tone he used promised another argument. “I’ve worked hard to become the Alex,” he answered, wishing he could sit too. “It’s what I’ve been working for since I found out about the title.”

“You did work hard,” the man agreed, still focused on his writings. “However, the vow was pointless. You already belong to Aeterna.” He finally lifted his head and gave him a barely suffered look. “There’s a reason why you work hard for this nation.”

Rolling his eyes, Martin shook his head. “Is it another ‘clue’ that everyone overlooked?”

The image nearly smiled. “There are many clues, though they were subtle. Now that you’re no longer suppressed, your power will become more obvious. It’s only a matter of time before they recognize it.” Looking back down at the paper, the image snorted softly. “You should probably get back to your nap. Suit was right; you’re going to be busy.”
***********
Speaking of being busy... As I mentioned, the next three weeks are going to hurt: projects due, papers to write, and studying for finals. I won't be able to do any revising on this story until after the semester is done. So, instead of posting unedited versions of this story, I'm thinking that the next three week's posts will be the Dawmeria Soul, a story I've done some editing on already. And just so there is no confusion, it is a another storyline, in a different time and world. If anyone has a problem with this, please let me know. Otherwise, over the next three weeks The Dawmeria Soul will take the stage!

The Beginning of Plans

I didn't get any third option opinions! Yeah for me! But now, I feel obligated to mention something. Jenny gave me a wonderful complement, and said she's dying to know how it ends. For those who don't know, 50,000 words translate into (single space, 12 point font) about a hundred pages. And the story isn't even a third done yet. *cough* Sorry Jenny, you're in for a long run.

Review from last week. Martin confronts the idea that he might actually be the prince. I introduced Sona, who explains to Sara what had happened sixteen years before, and Sara gives a brief of Aeternan history and the Seven Founders. Now, it's time to plan plans, and foil a few of them too.
********
“Thanks for your help, Martin,” the instructor said after the class had been dismissed. Don Ander, Luke’s father, splashed water on his face and dried it with a towel. He gave the young spy a piercing stare. “Though you were pushing it a bit. Is something wrong?”

Martin snorted softly, wishing the spying teacher hadn’t been that observant. But he usually did beat Ander in a fist fight; yet another gift from his childhood spent on the streets. He bent over the barrel to splash water on his own face.

He froze. For a moment, it wasn’t his reflection in the water, but of the same mirror-man he had been arguing with the night before. Though the image only stayed a moment and his own reflection staring back at him with wide eyes, there was no doubt of what he saw.

“Great,” he thought, grasping the sides of the barrel. “Now, even when I’m awake…”

“Martin?” Ander asked, frowning. “Are you alright? You just got really pale.”

The spy shook his head. This was not the place to worry about the wrong reflection. The noise and heat of the weapon field crashed on him, making his forming headache hurt even more. If he was going to worry, it would be where no one else could see.

“I think I might be coming down with something,” he told the concerned teacher. A partial truth. The more these strange things had been happening, the more he felt sick. He quickly brought a handful of water to his face and washed the sweat off. Taking the offered towel, he wiped his face. “Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go lie down.”

“My next class will be fine without you,” Ander assured. “Go. Get feeling better.” Martin tried to smile appreciatively, but it felt forced. The teacher saw it. “Get going,” he laughed, shoving him for the door. Martin took the not-so-subtle hint and left. However, after he changed quickly out of his sweaty clothes into his regular ones, he did not make his way to his room.

Wandering around the halls of the Tree, he was careful to use the less trafficked ones. At the moment, he did not want to talk to people. The internal conflicts of his dreams were complicated enough; no doubt the involvement of other people would make it worse. Especially if they knew exactly why he was so troubled.

“Hey,” Thomas’s voice called out from behind and broke his concentration. “Martin! Where have you been all morning?”

Martin paused long enough to look back at his friend, who quickly caught up with him. As usual, Thomas didn’t bother to make himself look presentable.

“I was helping Luke’s dad with his hand combat class,” he replied. Thomas frowned.

“That was over an hour ago.” He gave him a confused look, one Martin knew well enough. Thomas knew something was wrong. “You’ve been wandering around since?”

He shrugged. “Suit doesn’t need me at the moment. I’ve nothing better to do other than write out my report. But until my Order of Silence is lifted, I can’t even do that.”

“Then you haven’t heard?” his friend asked, his expression stunned. “Suit’s called for a meeting of the entire Tree. It’s going to happen at noon. Supposedly to tell us why he’s been in closed conference with the queen, why the princess has been snapping at everyone, and why Sona suddenly has a new project that’s large enough for her to pull at least ten people to it.”

“Sona’s on the…” He gulped. This was not good. The pretty research spy was very good at her job. And considering his own mysterious past, it would only be a matter of time before she would track him down. It was not a comforting thought of having Sona delving into his past when he rather it be kept quiet.

“What’s this all about?” Thomas asked, absently picking at a hole in the cuff of his shirt. “Luke’s bet is that King Jonathan’s still alive. I think it’s all about those kidnappers after the princess. Are you going to clear things up for us?”

Martin shook his head. “No,” he said, “I’d rather let Suit do that ugly business. Come on, we don’t want to miss the announcement.” Even as he started walking for the amp theater, he wished this was all just a big mistake.
*************
When they arrived at the amp theater, nearly all the seats were taken. Thomas glanced over the crowd to find seats for him and Martin. His friend, however, stopped just inside the door and leaned against the frame, his arms folded across his chest. Thomas knew that pose from his friend. He was upset about something. Knowing Suit’s apprentice wouldn’t elaborate on it, he resigned himself to stay at the door for the announcement without an explanation.

Taking another glance down the theater, he saw the stage and named the people sitting on a row of chairs. Suit sat next to Queen Abigail and the two were talking quietly to each other. Princess Sara sat on the other side of the queen, her attention split from throwing annoyed glares at her mother and the questions she was asking Sona, who sat next to her. After Sona sat several of her helpers, including Luke’s twin sister Kriste. He caught Kriste’s eye and waved at her. Her own silent reply was a smirk.

“When are you going to tell Luke about you and his sister?” Martin asked, noticing the exchange.

“When we know it’s not a fling,” he answered promptly. “We’ve only been together for about a month.” Martin snorted softly then returned his intent gaze back at the stage. Not for the first time that day did Thomas wonder what really bothered his friend. It took a lot to upset him; Thomas guessed that was because he had learned to live with death threats that turned into being numb at anything.

A last few people filed into the theater and took seats, though others stood at the back like them. Martin frowned as he scanned the crowd.

“Where is Luke, anyway?”

Thomas snickered. “He’s still on Traffic Duty. People who are working essential jobs are still at their posts. We’ll have to tell him about this later. Then I can collect my prize from him.”

“Neither of you won,” Martin muttered, almost darkly. Thomas was a bit surprised by the tone. He rarely used it; mostly when he grudgingly talked of his life at Loman.

He was about to ask the question he knew he wasn’t going to get answered when Suit stood up and walked to the podium. He tapped the magic on the podium and his voice carried throughout the theater.

“Silence,” he called out. Of course, the entire theater hushed at the command. Satisfied by the full attention he had, Suit placed both hands on the podium edge and scanned the audience before him.

“As several of you may have noticed, our queen and princess are here. The reason is that we will be housing Princess Sara for the time being. Until such time the kidnap threat has pasted. So, I ask all you to be as helpful as you can to the princess to make her time here more tolerable. But that is not why I called this meeting.” Every ear waited for what the Spy Master had to say next. Suit took in a deep breath.

“The Crown Prince of Aeterna is alive,” he announced. Gasped filled the hall. “Quiet!” Suit snapped. Everyone stopped their chatter. Suit glared at them, almost daring them in his stare to speak again. “The Connection of Prince Henry, the proof of his heritage, has been found. Unfortunately, the glove was found in a Venter camp without the prince. The queen has given us charge to find him, whatever it takes. Sona, the one who will be heading this search, will tell you of the details she needs you to fulfill. Sona.”

Stepping away from the podium, the research spy stood and took their attention. She smiled at them. “Thank you, Sir. Now, there is not much I will be requiring from all of you, except those who I have already pulled in to help with my research. However, there will be times when I will have someone go out and search out other information. And also, those of you who meet my wide criteria for the prince will be interviewed.” She glanced to the back of the theater where they were standing and smirked.

“Be prepared for it,” she warned. Thomas had the sneaking suspicion she was directing the comment at Martin. Glancing at his friend, his only response was a snort. “In the mean time, do not try to come to help me unless I call for you. I don’t need troublemakers under my feet. Thank you. Now, I believe Her Majesty has something more to say?” She turned to the queen. The Aeternan ruler nodded and stood.

“Come on,” Martin suddenly said, turning his back on the stage. “Let’s go get some lunch and tell Luke about this.”

Thomas frowned. “Don’t you want to hear what our queen has to say about this?”

Martin glanced back at him over his shoulder. “Do you really want to hear it?”

Thomas stared down at the queen for a moment before agreeing. In his experience, most nobles tended to make speeches just to fill time. Besides, they heard the big announcement. Grabbing a quick lunch for themselves and Luke, they made their way back up to the stables where Luke sat by the door. He looked up from the ledger as they approached.

“Oh, good!” he exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing the roll filled with meat and cheese from Martin’s out stretched hand. “Lunch!” He tore a bite out of it, savoring it.

“Skipped breakfast again?” Martin asked, sitting down in his customary chair by the wall, taking a bite of his own sandwich. “You know you shouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t,” Luke said after he gulped down his bite. “I just get hungry when I’m bored.”

“You’re always hungry,” Thomas teased, sitting down next to his friends. “I’m surprised we haven’t gone through a shortage because of you.”

“Funny,” Luke sneered. After swallowing yet another large mouth full of food, he asked the question they all had that morning. “So, what was the announcement about? Am I right? King Jonathan is alive?”

“Close, but not quite,” Martin said causally. “The crown prince is alive.”

Luke coughed, spewing half chewed food on them. He and Martin ducked to avoid getting hit in the face. “The crown prince?” Luke finally choked. “I thought the Venterans killed him.”

“Apparently not,” Thomas said, flicking a bit of roll of his knee. “They found his Connection in a Venter army.” He turned to Suit’s apprentice. “That is what you found in that camp, right?”

“Something like that,” Martin muttered. Thomas wondered about what he meant when Luke sat back in his chair, thinking.

“Where do you suppose he could be though?” he asked. “I mean, where can a prince hide?” He retuned his chair back to all fours, his eyes wide. “You don’t suppose our prince is in the Venter army, do you?”

“He couldn’t possibly be,” Thomas argued. “You know the story. The Seven Founders attached the Santers to the land. He couldn’t fight against Aeterna if he tried.” Back and forth they argued about where the prince could be, though Martin stayed out of it. Neither he nor Luke tried to include him though. They both knew how he hated talking about family affairs.

“Maybe,” Luke suggested sarcastically, “he grew up on the streets. Like our friend here.” Thomas glanced at Martin, wondering what his reaction to that statement would be. He had been sitting quietly staring off, his elbow on his knee and his face on his hand.

Martin grimaced painfully.

Thomas and Luke exchanged confused looks. This was the first time they ever saw their friend react like that when it came to family matters.

“Martin?” Luke ventured to ask.

“Hum?” Their friend came out of his far distance stare, frowning at them. “What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, sinking lower into his chair. “Not really. I just now know what big event was coming.” He stared back off into the distance. “Though, really, I didn’t want it coming.”

“Liar,” Luke accused. “You’ve been acting a bit off since you came back from the Venter camp.”

“Today you were looking for something to do,” Thomas pointed out. “You usually do that when you don’t want to think about something. What is it? Tell us. Does it have to do with this prince business? Or is it something else entirely?”

Martin glanced at them, his eyes narrowing slightly. He seemed to consider something. Finally, he sighed, thudding his head back against the wall. “I won’t get any rest until I tell you, right?”

“You know us,” Luke snorted. “We’re worried. This is not who you are.”

Martin suddenly laughed, though the sound came out bitter. “Who I am. I’ve been wondering that since…” He sighed deeply. Leaning forward he buried his face in his hands.

“The glove,” he whispered, almost too softly for them to hear. “The Connection that belongs to Prince Henry. I’ve had it since long before I could remember.”

Thomas froze, stunned by what his friend just told them. Exchanging shocked looks with Luke, they turned again to him. “What do you mean?” he said, finally finding his voice. Martin sighed again and sat up to look them in the eyes.

“I didn’t find the glove at the Venter camp,” he confessed. “I’ve had it before I could remember. Back when I lived on the streets of Loman. All I found at the camp was that Inhibitor.” He confessed he had always thought of the glove as his lucky charm. He related his conversation with Piro after he had stolen the Inhibitor from the Venter camp and how the merchant released the magic within it. Then explaining how that night the silver ball and the glove exchanged the magic.

“I never expected my lucky charm could belong to anyone else,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair again. “And now… What am I supposed to think now? Obviously, the glove never belonged to me… But…”

“But what?” Luke asked, leaning forward, his chin resting on his propped up hands. “You said it yourself. You always thought you just found it.”

“I know,” Martin said, glancing away to his left. “But… when the magic was exchanged, I touched the glove, and I started having nightmares.”

“We’ve all had nightmares,” Thomas assured him. “You’re probably just having a reaction to the magic. I bet you can go to the queen and explain all this. She’ll help you.”

“I can’t,” Martin scoffed, his face becoming pained again. “In my nightmares, I keep finding myself staring at a reflection that doesn’t belong to me.”

“Why can’t you tell the queen?” Luke began to ask when Martin stood abruptly and started to pace.

“Because this image keeps telling me that I’m the prince!” He laughed again, though there was no mirth in it. “It’s ridiculous thinking that I could be… Look at me! Do I look like a noble? And every time I try arguing with the image, he just tells me the same thing. That I’m the prince and that I’d better accept it as fact or regret it.”

“Sit down,” Luke suggested, “before you start yelling.” Martin snorted at the remark, but sat down. “Now,” he went on, “I have a question. Do you believe this… wrong reflection is telling you the truth? Do you honestly believe that you could be the prince?”

Martin took in a deep breath. “That is what’s troubling me. I don’t know. The image said things… About clues that went unnoticed for years. I don’t know if I am the prince, but there’s a possibility that I could be.”

Thomas sat back in his chair with a tired sigh. This was serious. Martin was logical, he knew the difference between the impossible and possible. If he even acknowledged this possibility, he was probably right about it.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, after they all let the revelation sink in.

Martin frowned then narrowed his eyes. “Nothing,” he declared, sitting up, his face determined. “I’m not going to do anything until I know more. I need evidence one way or the other. Until then, I’m not telling them and I want you to promise that you won’t say anything either.”

“But Martin,” Luke protested, standing. “If you could be…”

“I know it’s dangerous,” Martin rebutted, also standing. “But do you realize what they’d do to me if I told them this?” Thomas scoffed quietly. He knew what would happen.

“They take you to Nacre,” he answered, shaking his head. “And if you aren’t the prince…” He sighed. “Your reputation would be destroyed. Everything you’ve worked for would be demolished.”

“That’s right,” Martin said, though still staring at Luke. “Everything I’ve worked for would be for nothing. Now, do I have your promise or not?”

Thomas immediately brushed his fingers across his forehead, a gesture of his promise. Luke continued to stare at Martin until finally he copied his gesture. Their friend gave a satisfied snort.

“We need evidence,” he said again.

“And how do you plan to get that evidence?” Luke asked, folding his arms. Now Luke was aggravated.

The door of the stable slammed and Kriste came striding up to them. Thomas quickly covered his smile at the sight of her. She had the same straw colored hair and blue eyes as her twin, but there the similarities ended. Unlike her tall brother, she was short, with just enough plump to fill her figure. She also didn’t get in as many pranks.

“Martin,” she said, though giving him a discrete wink. “You’re wanted. Sona wants to hear firsthand account about your mission in the Venter camp.”

“There’s your answer, friend,” Martin said, smirking. “I’ll see you guys later.” Kriste frowned at them but shrugged and followed Martin out of the stable. Thomas shook his head. He doubted Martin would act troubled now. He had a plan and a way to pull it off.
**********
“We’ll focus on all those who are in Aeterna first,” Sona delegated to her staff after the meeting of the Tree. “According to Her Majesty, the prince would have been drawn back here. His Connection may have been suppressed, but he is still linked with this land. He wouldn’t feel secure anyplace else.”

Giving the staff her list of things to look for in the records, males sixteen to twenty who hand no records before they were one, she set them to the task. Satisfied as the other research spies began dividing up the work, she turned to address the queen.

“We’ll find him, Your Majesty,” Sona assured her.

“I have no doubt you will,” Queen Abigail said with a small smile. Behind her mother, Princess Sara only rolled her eyes. Sona quickly hid a smile of her own. The princess had insisted on helping on the research team. Thankfully, the queen agreed.

“Since your team is already working on the task of shifting through records,” Suit said, “What will you be working on?”

“I’ve already created a list of young men who live here that meets my requirements,” she explained. “I’m going to interview them. Kriste’s begun gathering them.”

“And I’ve brought the first one!” Kriste laughed, throwing the doors open. Behind her, Martin frowned at the declaration.

“I thought I was brought to talk about the mission,” he wondered aloud.

“That too,” Sona replied, smiling at him. He was only acting surprised; he was too smart to not know he would be suspected. Though, taking a good look at his average build and height, dark hair, and hazel eyes, she thought he had nothing to worry about. Yes, they didn’t know much about his background, but he did not look like he belonged to any noble family.

“Wait,” Sara piped up, her head whipping around to look at Suit’s apprentice, “what do you mean? Martin’s on that list of yours?”

The queen also gave Martin a calculating look, measuring him up as the first young man she meet she knew who could be the prince. The spy took the stares, standing at a military stance. He was used to being under such sanction. As she knew, he had spent his life proving to others he was of worth.

“There I go again,” she thought, shaking her head. It had only been in the last year since she began to notice Martin. It had been after the war started, she had seen how much he worked to end the war, not even taking a vacation and taking all the assignments he could. More and more, his reports crossed her desk and she realized she wanted to know more of the man behind the adventures she read.

“Yes,” she finally answered Sara’s question. “He’s on the list.” Martin only rolled his eyes.

“Shall we get this over with?” he asked. “I’ve got to actually write my report, now that my silence has been lifted.”

“This way,” she said, motioning to a side room where they could hold the interview in private. She curtsied to the queen. “If you would like, I hope you’d join us.”

“Of course I’ll join,” Queen Abigail said, still measuring Martin with firm eyes. “I wish to know all those who could be with my son.” Martin groaned but followed them into the room. Inside was a table and chairs. The queen sat down and Sona next to her, facing the door. Beneath the table, she pulled out the files she had acquired early in the morning.

“Alright, Martin,” she said as he closed the door and sat opposite of her from the table. “Let’s get the more recent events out of the way. Tell us about your mission into the Venter camp.”

“It was like any other retrieval mission,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. He described his infiltration, the theft, and his conversation with Piro about the Inhibitor.

“You didn’t show this merchant the glove?” the queen asked, rubbing her upper lip in thought.

“Honestly,” he said, half smiling, “I thought the glove was a mistake. It looked normal to me. The Inhibitor was the thing I didn’t recognize.” He concluded his tale by mentioning he returned by merchant caravan. “As I said. It was like any other retrieval mission.”

“Yes,” Sona replied with a chuckle, “but the results are different. Now, we need to talk about you.” Martin let out an exasperated sigh, glancing away from them.

“I don’t like talking about it.”

“We know,” Sona assured him, trying to use her most soothing voice. “But it must be done.” She pulled out his official Aeternan record. “You first came to Aeterna when you were about ten, correct?”

“About that age,” he agreed, still not looking them.

“Before that, you lived at Loman,” Sona went on, flipping through the papers. “At least, that is where General Fred Chief found you. Trying to steal food from the Aeterna Embassy there.”

Martin laughed at the memory. “Yes, that’s where he found me.” He finally lifted his head and met their eyes. “He’s the one who offered me a life here. Needless to say, but I accepted his offer.”

“You’re records are very clear from that point on.” Sona placed the papers down and propped her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her clasped hands. “What isn’t clear is your life at Loman. The records are vague, to say the least.” She was exaggerating; his records before he met General Chief were nonexistent. Even the early reports of him, there were rarely any mention of his life before.

“I was a street urchin,” he mumbled. “Of course I didn’t have records.”

“A street urchin?” the queen asked, frowning. Leaning forward only slightly, her commanding presence seemed to press on the spy. “You’re meaning to say you grew up without parents?”

“I don’t even know who they are,” he told her, matching the queen’s resolved attitude. “From what I heard from those who lived there, they died in a fire during a raid. I was left on my own. I didn’t even have a name until I was four or five.”

Sona sat up at the information. Settling back in her chair, she let out a slow breath. “Then how did you get an Aeternan name?”

Martin barked a half-hearted laugh. “A kind soul who used to take me in when it rained gave me the name. I don’t even know the lady’s name, but she would show a bit of kindness to all the street urchins. Unfortunately, she could only take in so many; she’d stuff the house when it rained though. She said I was resilient, like Aeternans. She named me Martin, after the philosopher of the Seven Founders, hoping it would give me an edge in the position I had on the streets.”

“What happened to this woman?” the queen asked, the firmness in her eyes softening after what they heard.

“She died when I was about six.” Briefly, his expression showed the sorrow he felt at her fate. Shaking his head, he forced a smile. “With so many kids in her house, it was only a matter of time before she caught a disease. And I was left on my own until Fred caught me. And that about sums up my childhood. Anything else?”

Sona was a bit surprised by the abrupt end he brought to the conversation, but reasoned it was about time. Throughout the interview, he folded his arms and his posture became more defensive. Clearly, he did not wish to discuss his street days further. She couldn’t blame him; not after hearing the tone in his voice.

“Not now,” she said, placing his papers back into his folder. “But don’t be surprised if we have more questions.”

“People are never done with questions,” he said, standing. He bowed to the queen. “With your permission?”

“You are excused,” the queen acknowledged, nodding her head in agreement and also standing. Sona quickly stood and followed them back into the records room. Her staff was moving among the selves of files, pulling down the records they needed.

“Seems Kriste hasn’t found Denny yet,” she mussed, glancing around.

“Denny?” Martin asked, frowning. “I thought he was a slave in Venter before he escaped here. He’s records should be clear.”

“Clearer than yours, yes.” Sona sighed. “But that doesn’t mean much. We have to look at everyone.”

“Why?” Martin asked. He held up a hand before she could answer. “Never mind, I think I know.” He watched a moment while her staff went about their work, his frown now considering. “Do you know why the prince was kidnapped?”

The queen was the one to answer. “Terk was bitter that he lost the war,” she said resentfully. She shook silently with anger. “He wanted to strike at us where it hurt.”

“I’m not so sure,” the spy replied. “The prince wasn’t held for ransom. In fact, they went through a lot of trouble to make it seem he had died. Why?”

“That’s an answer we’d all like to know,” Suit muttered darkly, joining them. He gave his apprentice a stern look. “And where’s that report of yours?”

“I’m off to get that done right now.” Martin turned to go then noticed the princess. Sara had been sitting quietly at one of the tables, a pile of files already before her. However, she ignored the records, but kept staring at him.

“Seems my daughter has taken an interest in you, Martin,” Abigail said, trying to stifle her laugh. “She’s never known what’s it like to have an older sibling.”

“Is that so?” the spy muttered. Without warning, he strolled over to the princess’s table, planted both hands on the tabletop, and stared down at the princess. Sara shook slightly by the sudden approach, but stared back. Neither exchanged words. It only took a few moments before Sara quailed under his gaze. Martin smiled slowly.

“You blinked.”

Shoving off the tabletop, he walked away, humming a nameless tune. Startled by the sudden declaration, Sara stared after him, confused about what had happened.

Abigail was also staring at the retreating spy’s back, her own expression not so much as confused as it was awed. Suit whistled low.

“I’ve never been on the receiving end of Martin’s stare,” the Spy Master muttered. “But I never want to. He’s going to make an impressive commander one day. With that stare of his, people will obey.”

Sona found herself agreeing. Glancing at Martin as he left the room, she knew what they did not name in his stare. Determination. That was what most found so unsettling about that look in his eyes. It was the look of a man determined to do what was necessary to reach his end goal. It was the reason why he was Suit’s apprentice, it was the reason why he had earned the respect from older spies, and it was the reason why she found him most interesting.
**********
And so begins the conflict among themselves. They (the queen, spy master, the rest of Aeterna for that matter) are trying to find the prince, while Martin is determined to have evidence before helping them. Next week will bring the introduction of a new character, and a very important one in Martin's life. Fred Cheif.

Making Connections

Here I am, sitting at home without Maxx. Sigh, but he needs to get serviced. So, while I am stationary at home, I'll get my post done early today (though really, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, by this time, I'm already done with my first class and started my second....both in Pocatello). Last week's edition of the Rebellious Spy had main characters meet and a grand revelation made. Martin's lucky charm is actually a Connection. Now we're reaching the main problem. Martin doesn't want to connect the dots.
************
Martin felt as if he had been punched in the gut and the air forced from his lungs when the queen had said it. His mind was numb by those four words. What did this mean? He was afraid of the answers.

“Son?” Sara asked, the first of them to recover. “What son? I’m an only child.”

“No, you’re not,” the queen replied, looking up. Martin was shocked to see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “You were never told about your brother. He was kidnapped before you were born. We thought he was dead.”

“For good reason,” Suit blurted. The Spy Master had the same shocked face as himself. “The pirates who took your son died at sea, every last person on that boat was killed before they made port. You searched for him yourself with that Connection of yours. Jonathan too!”

“We can only feel other Santers if they have their Connection,” Queen Abigail explained. She held the glove tight in her hands and brought it up to her chest. “This glove disappeared the same time as Henry. We thought he was dead because this was also gone. There are only enough Connections for the living Santers. Dead Santers don’t have these. If Henry really was dead, this glove wouldn’t exist.”

“Then that means…” Suit started to put together.

“The Crown Prince of Aeterna is still alive,” Abigail finished, laughing though tears continued to stream down her cheeks. “We have to find him.”

“No arguments there.” The Spy Master sat back in his chair, rubbing his goatee. “We need to plan this carefully. If Terk gets wind of the prince being alive before we have him back safely in our hands… Robby!”

“Yes, sir?” the secretary asked, opening the door and peeking around it.

“Send someone to Ida to get a room ready for her Highness,” Suit ordered. “Also, send for Sona. We’re going to be needing her talents.”

“I’ll send the messengers.” Robby closed the door.

“I’d advise that none of this goes past that door.” Suit locked his fingers together and tapped his chin. “We don’t know enough to reveal anything about the prince, so secrecy at this point might keep him alive.”

“But,” Sara started to protest, rising in her chair to stand.

“No buts,” Abigail said firmly. “Suit’s right. Your brother’s life may depend on this.”

“Brother.” The princess rubbed her temple as she sat back down, her face a mixture of confusion and pain. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Can I be excused?” Martin cut in. He felt very uncomfortable; not only because of the tension building between the queen and princess, but also of the cause of the tension. He wanted to cringe at the thought that his lucky charm belonged to the Santers.

“Do you have any place you really need to go?” Suit asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who brought the Inhibitor and glove back. Aren’t you the least bit curious about it? I know you were before.”

“So were you,” he thought bitterly. “But you’re not the one who has been having nightmares where your reflection doesn’t match your face.” The association between his dreams and the missing prince was not something he wanted to consider.

“This is a family affair.” He tried not to squirm in his chair as the queen focused her firm gray eyes on him. “It’s not really my place to be in it.”

Suit frowned thoughtfully. “You’re probably right. I know how uncomfortable you get around family affairs. Very well, you’re excused. Take the princess with you.”

“What?” The princess stood up, her face enraged. “But I have questions! I deserve some sort of answers, especially after being lied to all my life!”

“If you’re going to stay here,” Suit growled, slowly standing up to enforce his imposing presence, “then you’re going to have to learn to obey commands. I promise that you’ll get your answers, but not now. Especially if you’re not going to follow my orders. There are things we have to consider before we take any steps about your brother, and some of those things are not appropriate to you. Now, Your Highness, you will leave. Martin, get her out of here.”

Martin cringed at the lecture. Suit rarely gave ultimatums, he expected to be obeyed and people did. However, when he did give them, someone usual left crying. Sara’s eyes filled with angry tears before she run from the room. He followed after, frowning. An upset teenage princess was not something he wanted to deal with at the moment.

“Remember, Martin,” Suit called after him, “not a word out about this.”

“Yes, sir.” He did not even want to think about the conversation, little alone talk about it. He closed the door and found the princess had already left the office.

“Any idea where she went?” he asked as he passed Robby’s desk.

“Try going left,” Robby suggested, frowning. “What happened in there?”

“Orders of Silence,” he explained, walking out. “Sorry.”

Glancing left, he saw Princess Sara waiting for him, leaning against the wall fuming. She glared at him. “Well?” she demanded, pushing off the wall. “What do you think of all this?”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking my opinion?” He turned and walked towards the living corridors. Behind him, he heard the princess gasp in shock that he had turned away from her. Sure she was seething, she followed after him.

“You’re Suit’s apprentice,” she pointed out as she caught up with him. “You wouldn’t have gotten that position if you didn’t have his respect in some way.”

“I haven’t earned all of that respect yet,” he snorted. “Now, Your Highness, we’ve been ordered to silence. Let’s keep it that way and talk about something else.”

“You’re taking their side!” she accused. She stopped and pointed a finger at him. “You’re like all those other adults! Trying to rule my life! My own parents lied to me!”

“At least you have parents,” he snapped back as she took a breath. She looked shocked that he interrupted her. “Some of us aren’t so lucky. Let’s get going. I have other things to do.” He turned his back to her so she would not see his own frustrated face.
************

Martin was glad to finally rid himself of the willful princess when they reached the living wing of the Tree. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when Ida Falend took over of settling in the Santer. Instead of going back to his friends, he made his way back to his room. When he got there, he locked the door behind him and thudded his head against the wood.

“What’s happening?” he groaned. With a tired sigh, he turned around, leaned against the door, and glanced around the room.

His room was just large enough to fit his bed and dresser. That was just fine with him; he never owned much and did not want to. A street urchin learned to not form attachments to anything, either people or things. He had never gotten over that.

With another sigh, he took the one step to his bed and flopped on it. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, confused. Confused about his former lucky charm, confused about the power he felt that day the Inhibitor touched it, confused about the dreams that had plagued him since.

“What could those dreams mean? Is there a connection between them and the prince?” He refused to ask if it meant the impossible.

“I’m an orphan,” he firmly told himself, narrowing his eyes. He had come to terms with it, even been proud of it. He had earned his way through life without needing any parent to vouch for him. No one could say he just breezed through life. He worked for everything he owned and the respect he deserved. Nothing would ever change that.

“Then why am I troubled?” So what if the prince was alive? It could not affect him or his job. The only thing he could think of it changing his life was if the prince ever ordered more missions for Suit to fill.

“No use worrying about it. It doesn’t concern me.” And the dreams? What meaning did they have? “Probably just my imagination. I’ve had nightmares before.” Trying to convince himself of that, he fitfully fell asleep.
********

He was before the mirror again, looking at the strange young man that he didn’t know. This time the man seemed calmer and less troubled. He folded his arms across his slim form.

“So,” the image said, smirking. “What did you think?”

Martin gritting his teeth in frustration. Why was he here? “Think of what?” he rebutted. “A prince is alive. So what? It has nothing to do with me.”

“It doesn’t?” the image asked, chuckling softly. “Then why didn’t you tell the queen that the glove was yours?”

“That glove isn’t mine,” Martin snapped. “I picked it up somewhere.”

“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” the spy growled, annoyed. “You seem to know the answers. Where did I pick it up?”

“You didn’t,” the image answered. “It was yours since birth. Congratulations. You’re the Crown Prince of Aeterna.”

“I am not,” Martin snapped. “There is no proof. I don’t even know if I’m Aeternan.”

“Why do you keep fighting yourself?” the image asked, frowning. “You are the prince. The faster you learn this, the better off you’ll be.”

“Right,” Martin said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Let’s assume for one moment that I am the prince. Why, out of curiosity, did it take sixteen years for someone to notice?”

“Don’t ask me that,” the image snorted. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” Martin pointed out. “If I were the prince, someone long ago would have told me so. I’m eighteen. Legally an adult. I’ve been raised as a spy. I don’t even look like a Santer. There is no connection between me and the royal family.”

“You’re sure?” the image asked.

“Yes,” the spy snapped. “You know what; I don’t even know why I’m talking about this with you. I’m not the prince. Case closed.” Martin turned to go.

“But it’s not closed, Martin Santer,” the image said softly, causing the spy to freeze on the spot. He turned slowly on the spot, staring shocked at the mirror-man.

“You’re unsure yourself” The man stared back with icy eyes. “There have been clues for years now, clues that you are indeed the prince. How you just appeared in Loman with no name, no history, and no parents. When you were growing up, didn’t you always feel different? That you were supposed to be something more? You had those visions, flashes of the thoughts of others. You could always tell when something big would happen. Also, why, after all these years, did the glove stay hidden, only to be found by one who would recognize it for what it is?

“Stop fighting yourself,” the image continued. “You are the prince. Yes, there are questions left unanswered, but that is irrelevant to the fact. The faster you admit who you are, the better off you’ll be.”
************

Martin woke up with a gasp and drenched in sweat. He sat up and quickly scanned his bare room. Nothing was out of place. Leaning forward, the spy rested his head in his hands, breathing hard.

“I can’t be the prince,” he whispered into the dark. “Or am I?”
************

Sara opened her door just wide enough to poke her head through. Glancing down one end of the corridor then the other, she was satisfied to see no one. Taking a deep breath, she slipped away from her small room. It was just big enough for a bed and dresser. Ida had said she was privileged to get those accommodations! Apparently, most spies didn’t have rooms to themselves. Only a few talented did. She shook her head at the thought. She had trouble sleeping the night before, feeling as if the walls were closing in on her. How could anyone see living in a closet as luxury?

But that question had to be left for another day. Today, she was going to learn the truth! Taking purposeful strides, she made her way to Suit’s office, sure that her mother and Spy Master would be there. They had to give her answers now! They had lied, everyone had lied to her. As a princess, she should at least had been told of the true heir.

“But more than that,” she thought bitterly to herself. “I deserve to know about my brother. Even if he had died.”

She reached the office. Steeling herself, she banged the door open, startling the sour secretary. “I demand to enter Suit’s office.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound shrilly.

“Of course, Your Highness,” Robby said as he stood and bowed. He straitened with a frown. “Though I don’t know why you’d want to. Neither your mother or Suit is here.”

Sara felt the embarrassment color her cheeks. “No! I must be commanding. Not a silly little girl!”

“Then tell me where they are,” she said quickly, hoping she was doing a good job of disguising her blunder. “There are things I need to discuss with them.”

“Her Majesty had thought as much,” Robby said smoothly. Sara could tell he was trying hard not to smile. She blushed again. “They said you are more than welcome to wait here for them. If not, your mother suggested that you go to the weapons field.”

“Because that’s where they are?”

“No. But there will be someone there who will answer your questions.”

Sara frowned. She wanted her answers from her mother’s own mouth, not from some stranger. “But I want to know now.” For a moment, she struggled with the two desires. “Alright,” she finally decided. “Tell me how to get to the weapons field and who’ll be waiting for me.”

“Go right when you leave,” Robby immediately answered, “then down two flights of stairs. Take your first left and it’s down that hall. The person waiting has already been told to answer your questions when you get there.”

“Thank you.” Without waiting for him to bow again, she left. Only once she was down one set of stairs did she realize she did not get a name. But she refused to go back up to the insufferable secretary and his too late answers. “Really,” she huffed. “Mother knows I have questions. Why isn’t she somewhere I can find her?” She admitted to herself that it was probably because she was still in a temper.

“I’m not the only one affected by this news. Mother was obviously overjoyed at learning my brother was alive.” She knew she was one of the few people who could anger the queen. That anger was something she could live without at the moment.

Reaching the bottom of the second set of stairs, she glanced down the left hall and the opened door at the end of it. As she approached, she was surprised to hear the clashes at the early hour. She had not even had breakfast yet. How long had these people been awake to already be exercising?

She paused when she walked into the large room. The sight was overwhelming; she saw several groups practicing different types of weapons. The heat of working bodies made the room warmer than outside in the hall. She shook her head. How was anyone supposed to find anyone in this mess?

“Maybe that’s why Mother suggested I come here. I’ll get distracted and no one will be able find me.” She wished her mother did not know her so well.

She kept close to the wall as she watched the people work in the middle. She was surprised to see how many of them were as young as she was. She shook slightly to see a group of kids younger than her. The only adults in the room were the ones teaching the younger generation.

She made it to the far corner when she saw a familiar face among the teachers. Martin was with one of the older groups; from their lack of weapons, she guessed they were learning fist fighting. She stopped at the corner and watched for a few minutes. She was surprised to see Martin correcting the students in their postures.

“He’s a pleasure to watch, isn’t he?”

Sara spun around. Behind her was a pretty young woman about the same age as Martin. She wore her brown hair loose around her soft featured face. Her cool green eyes were amused as she glanced at the princess’s choice of clothes. Sara felt herself grow angry at the stranger’s sanction. She was the princess; she was entitled to dress how she felt. Though in the hot room, she wished she had picked the same sort of light cotton dress the young woman wore instead of the layers she had on.

“And who are you?” she snapped. No doubt this pretty face was accompanied by an empty head.

“My name is Sona Merette, Your Highness.” She smirked. “I was told you’d be grumpy. Understandable, all things considering.”

Sara paused. This woman’s tone and words spoke of an educated mind, and possibly a quick wit as well. Then she finally registered what she said.

“You’re the one who’s going to give me some answers?”

“It only makes sense that I’m the one giving answers,” Sona replied, smiling smugly. “I’m going to be the one to find him.”

“Find him?”

Sona laughed. “Yes, find him. I’m a research spy; I delve into books to uncover mysteries, I find the small clues in reports that others dismiss, I make connections where others cannot. I can track any person given enough time.”

“How can you say that?” Sara demanded to know. “My brother has been missing for…” She stuttered, realizing she had no idea how long it had been.

“Sixteen years,” the pretty spy finished for her. “It’s been sixteen years since the pirate raid.”

The princess was about to ask about the raid when the instructor for Martin’s group erupted.

“Enough!” he snapped turning the heads of everyone in hearing distance. “You lazy kids! How can I show you something for two weeks and you still not get it? Martin!”

“Yes, sir?” the spy said, frowning.

“Clear a space, we’re going to show them how a real fight goes.” Martin quickly formed the students into a loose circle as the teacher took off his shirt, revealing an extremely muscular torso, and joined the young spy in the circle. Sara raised an eyebrow when the spy did not take his shirt off. Taking a more careful look, she noticed the sweat spots on his shirt. “Does he work out fully clothed?”

“Just use the simple techniques. Maybe it’ll show you kids just how important they are.” Suddenly, the teacher struck out at Martin. But the young man was ready with his own attack. Sara’s jaw dropped at the fight intensified. It was like watching a graceful dance, one that would do harm with a single wrong move.

“Huh,” Sona said, her expression thoughtful rather than amazed. “Martin’s pushing it a little.”

“Pushing it?” she asked, her eyes wide after he made a flawless move for the teacher’s neck which the master barely dodged. “He’s great!”

“That’s what he gets for growing up on the streets.” Sona shrugged. “But he’s still human. Something’s bothering him.”

“What could be bothering him?” she snapped. “He’s not the one who finds out he has a brother!” She hadn’t forgotten about her questions, despite the mock fight.

“We believe it was a pirate raid that killed his parents,” Sona explained. “Not the one at Nacre, but still a pirate raid. Martin tries to pretend he isn’t bothered about it, but it does. No doubt the discovery of your brother reminded him about what he doesn't have in his life. Just remember, Your Highness, you’re not the only one who suffers.”

Sara switched her gaze between the researcher’s sorrowful eyes and Martin’s fight. “That’s what he was telling me last night,” she realized with shock. “I must have sounded like an ungrateful brat to him.”

Sona must have seen something she did not. Martin must have overstepped and the instructor took advantage of it. Thrusting his hand onto Martin’s chest, he pushed the young man down. Martin fell hard on his back. Before he could sit up, the teacher was there, pinning him on the ground. Snorting, he let him back up.

“See?” he asked the students. “That’s what you get for being over confident.”

“Over confident,” Sona sorted. “Martin’s troubled.” That statement confused the princess until she noticed how the researcher gazed at him. It was an emotion she was surprised to see. “I guess even spies could be attracted to others.”

“But you didn’t come here to talk about Suit’s apprentice.” She quickly covered her interested look at the young man. “You want to know about your brother. Perhaps we should go someplace where we won’t be so distracted.” Stealing one final glance at Martin, Sona led her out of the weapons field. Sara followed thoughtfully.

“How many people died in the raid, the night my brother disappeared?” After learning about Martin’s parents, she began to wonder how many other people thought her spoiled because she did not understand.

“The total came to over two hundred dead, about three hundred injured, and two hundred fifty missing.”

“So many?” she asked, surprised. “But our navy…”

“Was still fighting the Venterians,” Sona explained. “Nacre was under little protection. At first, everyone believed the pirates just took advantage of the scarce defense.”

“It wasn’t?”

Sona shook her head. “No. A few months after the raid, our intelligence found that it was a set up. General Terk had struck a deal with the pirates to attack the moment he lost the war. Their aim was to kidnap the prince and hold him captive. However, while they were halfway to Venter to drop off Prince Henry, a Venterian ship sunk the pirates. Orders were that no one on the ship was to be left alive.”

“And everyone assumed my brother was on that ship,” Sara mused, frowning. “Why?”

“You understand the answer better than myself.” The pretty researcher shrugged, walking up the stairs. “It has something to do with that Connection.”

Sara idly fingered her bracelet. It was thicker than most. It had to. The magic infused in the bronze would have broken anything less.

“Not many people know about our Connections,” Sara whispered, feeling the intricate designs of her bracelet. “These were formed during the same time of the Seven Founders, when they created Aeterna. They managed to merge the very magic of the land and the people to our family. After the melding, the Founders realized the magic was too strong for anyone to handle so they created these focuses for us.

“We are called the Protectors of Aeterna because it’s our duty to make sure the magic the Seven Founders forged doesn't get out of control.”

Sona frowned. Reaching the top of the stairs, she turned to face the princess. “From what you’ve said, it almost sounds as if you believe that the Seven Founders made a horrible mistake melding the magics and that the Santer family is cursed to keep their mistake from destroying us.”

“That about sums it up,” Sara admitted. “Oh, yes, everyone else thinks the Founders are wonderful for bringing a nation together and forming ties in the land and people so it would never fall, but it has a price. This magic is powerful and someone needs to keep it in check. And my ancestors volunteered for the job.” She tugged at the Connection on her wrist.

“Not that these don’t have their perks. We have a general sense of how our people feel so when we make a judgment call for Aeternans, we’re confident it’s what they want. And also, we know where other Connections are, or at least a general sense of which direction they are if they’re far away. But that only works when the Connection is possessed by another Santer.”

“How many Connections are there?” Sona opened the door to Suit’s office. Sara was surprised to find themselves there in little time. Nodding to Robby, they entered the Spy Master’s office and sat down.

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “There are only enough Connections for living Santers. Once a Santer dies, their Connection also goes.”

“I see,” Sona said, lightly rubbing the underside of her chin. “So, that would explain why the queen knows your brother is alive. This Connection wouldn’t exist if he were not. And you said that you can only sense the Connection if the owner has it?”

“Yes.”

Sona leaned back in her chair, still rubbing her chin. “Then your brother and his Connection have been separated since his kidnapping… Not that it matters much to my work. I’ll still find him.”

“How are you going to find him?” Sara asked. During the conversation, she dismissed her earlier judgments of the researcher. She started feeling respect for her.

“First, I’m going to look up every young man between the ages of sixteen through twenty in Aeterna. I know your brother is eighteen now, but it’s good to have a range. Then from there, I’ll narrow the list by eliminating all those who have parents or a record of their lives before they were one.”

“Seems like a lot of work.” Sara grimaced; she did not envy Sona her task.

“Oh, I’ll have helpers,” Sona dismissed with a wave of her hand. “It really should be easy pickings.”

The princess frowned. “If you say so.” She brightened suddenly. She had an idea. “What if you look for someone with his description? I mean, a lot of people say I look a lot like my mother. Shouldn’t my brother have that Santer look about him?”

“It’s possible,” Sona mused, frowning. “But he has been missing for sixteen years. You’d think someone would have recognized him by now.” She scowled. “There’s something we’re missing here but I don’t know what.”

Sara sighed. So much for her brilliant idea. “Do you think we will find him?”

Sona smiled slightly, patting the princess on her sagging shoulders. “We will. It may take some time true, but we will. Everyone leaves a trail, no matter how small. Don’t worry, we’re the best following it.”
*********
That's the end of this week's post. Now, I'm going to throw a question out. How many people are actually reading this? Probably not the right question to ask on April's Fool, but I want to know. So, if those of you reading would contact me in some way, either post a comment here, through Facebook, or even telling me in person, I'd appricate it. I'd also like to know if you're enjoying the story so far, if you just think it's something to do in spare time, or if I should delete the whole thing and be forbidden from writing fiction for the rest of my life. (I hope no one gives me that third option. Cough.) I'd like to know I'm not wasting my time.

If I don't get too many third option feedbacks, next week's post is when they get more questions, without the answers.