Flashes

Again. Not interested in writing intro. To the story!
************
Commander Doug Suit wasn’t used to being summoned. He was the Spy Master, the entire Aeternan spy network was under his command. He was the one to give orders, not to follow them. However, there were a few certain people that he did answer to. They only sometimes required his obedience; instead, they gave him freedom to do and work as he pleased. Suit rather liked how it all worked out. Working alone was a very spy like trait.

But an order had come and he now walked through one of the many Ghost camps. This one, ironically, was at Fort Bree, where the war had started four years before. It was even more ironic who had ordered him here.

He didn’t need to ask for directions of where to find the general in charge of this camp. Ghost camps had a tendency to be very similar. He often wondered just how Martin dealt with the monotony of it. Suit half grinned. Having trained Martin as the Alex, he was very much aware of all of the prince’s habits and ticks. The prince was a very clever man, one who used his talents and skills in ways that most hadn’t dreamed of. Monotony wasn’t one of his more practiced traits.

The command tent was where it could be normally found, in the center of the camp. It was a smaller camp of only about fifty Ghosts. This was a bit of a surprise to Suit. Once Ghosts were put in an army, that army could generally boast near a thousand. Small, specialized, Ghost teams often whipped up to a five hundred man army in a matter of a couple weeks. It was strange to have so few at this camp.

Suit arrived at the command tent, briefly knocking on a wooden pole to announce his desire to come in. Receiving an answer to enter, Suit pushed the canvas aside and stepped in.

Jonathan Santer sat at a makeshift desk, leaning back in his chair as he read a paper. Suit immediately recognized the paper from Nacre. The headline about the prince was pretty hard to miss.

“General Chief,” Suit said, half bowing. “I got your letter. And summons.”

“That’s obvious,” Jon snorted, folding the paper up. Suit waited for the king to finish. He had known for years of the king’s second identity. He would have made a very poor spymaster if he hadn’t. “How were your travels here?”

“Uneventful,” Suit sighed. “Nothing provides me with a challenge anymore. My last challenge was finding out where you put your boy.”

Jon chuckled. “I did lead you on a merry hunt on that one, didn’t I?”

“Martin did most of the leading,” Suit pointed out. When the prince wanted, he could disappear without a trace. Suit had been very proud of that skill until he learned that his former apprentice was the prince. He liked to keep tags of the royal family and Martin could easily lead him in circles.

“Can’t argue with that,” Jon said, smiling fondly. “You taught him a little too well, don’t you think?”

“Believe me, General,” Suit said, rolling his eyes. “I know. I’m kicking myself for it.”

“I hope you’re done kicking yourself,” the king snorted. “Martin’s going to need those skills in the coming weeks.”

“Ah, you mean the War Ender.”

Jon frowned. “War Ender? Did Thomas and Martin come up with that name?”

“Who else?”

The king sighed. “I guess I can’t blame them. Nacre Takeover sounds harsh and dangerous. At least War Ender has some flare.”

Suit shrugged. It didn’t matter what the mission’s name was. There was a job and it needed to be done. Who cared what it was called?

“I trust you’ll be marching out soon to rejoin your son,” Suit said, jerking his head back toward the small camp. “You don’t have many men left here.”

“I’m sending these Ghosts to other parts of Aeterna,” Jon said differently, shaking his head. “Nacre isn’t the only place at war you know. Martin has everything he needs. He will take care of it.”

Suit said nothing, though he did notice the pain in the king’s voice. Suit could understand that pain. It was hard to let a child grow up and take charge of his life. It had taken a lot of effort to not send spies after Art when he ran away, to watch over the boy. But Art wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a Ghost hero now.

In the line of attack along with the prince.

Suit couldn’t think of a better place for his son to be. He was so terribly proud of his boy. Someday, soon, he was going to have to tell Art that.

“I’m worried about him,” the king said faintly, his eyes distant. “I know I shouldn’t but….”

“You’ve only known he’s your son for a year now,” Suit replied sympathetically. “Of course you’re worried. All those years you’ve missed are catching up with you.”

“Yes,” Jon sighed. “You’re right. So many years we’ve all missed…” Jon let himself broad for a minute longer before looking up. “I have summoned you for a very important mission.”

Suit raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t uncommon for the king to quickly change subjects. It was a political skill he used with great results.

“I haven’t told Martin the truth about me,” Jon explained. “And Aeterna believes I’m dead. It’s time the lies end.”

Both his eyebrows raised. “Sire?”

Jon stood up, wincing as his knee protested the movement. “Suit, I need your help to come up with a plan that will explain my disappearance to Aeterna. I will then return to Nacre and put the whole truth to Martin. He deserves the truth.” The king paused, sorrow etched in his face.

“He deserves a father.”

Suit felt a lump in his throat. He had been the one given the unpleasant duty to inform the young king and queen that their son had been killed. Suit knew it tore at their souls. Jon sunk into such a depression that he disappeared into the world of Fred Chief to escape the pain. The pain had softened when Sara was born, true, but the king kept the pain in his heart.

It was a blessing when the king had found Martin. Suit thought that it was healthy for the king to have a surrogate son, even if he could never adopt the boy. And it was good for Martin too. It had been painful to watch Martin grow up the way he had, to see the scars on his arms and back, to watch each bully and scorner try to tear him down. The prince only rose to each challenge, taking everything head on and beating the impossible. And he had done it alone.

It was time for them to receive what should have always been theirs.

Suit bowed low. “I am yours to command.”

“Good,” the king said, the answer he had been expecting. “Here’s what I think will work…”
**********
Steve focused on the target, trying to imagine the tip of the knife in the straw dummy. He brought his hand back behind his head, the hard steel of the knife cold against his skin. He took another moment to aim before he flicked his hand forward, sending the knife flying.

It hit the wood behind the dummy.

Steve groaned. Another miss.

“Don’t be so disappointed,” Martin said, standing behind him. “It takes time. Took me nearly three weeks to throw a knife right. You’ve been doing this for just three days.”

“But I was raised by a thief,” Steve grumbled, walking to the fallen knife. “You’d think I’d know this trick.”

“I grew up on the streets,” Martin snorted. “I still had problems throwing a knife.”

Steve glanced back at the prince, confused. Didn’t the paper say that he had grown up as an orphan at Fort Mesa?

Suddenly, Martin turned sharply to the palace. They had been practicing out in one of the guard’s training fields. Steve had the pleasure of watching the prince beat up his own guards and saw the respect the guards gave to him afterwards. It seemed a bit strange to him that the guards who were trained to protect Santers would be now fine with their charge go missing. However, it did have some perks. Martin was allowed to use the training fields at any time he wanted.

“Someone’s coming,” Martin said, frowning.

“Can you tell who?” Steve asked, putting the knife back in the arm sheave. Shortly after he began his training, he quickly learned what sort of powers the prince had.

“Could be anyone,” Martin said vaguely. He sighed. “I guess we should go see who it is.” Steve nodded and followed the prince, feeling a bit relieved that someone was coming. Martin couldn’t openly train him as a spy, so they often had to work training in around the often-infrequent times when no one was watching. For that, Steve was grateful. He’d hate it if people saw him stumble around.

They had left the training grounds and were headed back to the prince’s office when the someone caught up with them.

“Marty!” a young man called, grinning as he approached. Steve raised an eyebrow. Marty? he thought, eyeing the young man. He knew one noble who thought to be on friendlier terms with the prince by using that nickname. Martin had been quick to put that nobleman back into his place. The newcomer a thin man with long yellowish hair, his clothes covered in dust from his travels.

“Hello, Art,” Martin sighed, seeming both exasperated by the nickname but happy to see the man. “How was your trip?”

“Uneventful,” Art laughed, shaking the prince’s hand. He suddenly winked. “And successful.”

“Good to hear,” Martin said, smirking a bit. “We’ll need to talk about it.”

“Your office?”

Martin snorted. “Could I meet with one of my fellow Ghosts elsewhere?” Steve blinked in surprise. Art was a Ghost?

Art laughed. “I guess not.” Art paused long enough to finally notice him standing behind the prince. “Who’s this?”

“An apprentice.”

Art blinked then frowned at the prince. “Yours?”

Martin shrugged. “Perhaps. But we should be getting to my office.” The prince then half turned. “Steve, you’re dismissed for the rest of the day.”

“Good luck, Steve,” Art said, his tone a bit deflated. “You’re going to need it.”

“No need to scare him,” Martin told the Ghost.

“My da’s a scary person,” Art grumbled as the two walked away. “It’s best that he’s warned.”

The two of them walked out of earshot. Steve scowled. What were they talking about? It almost sounded like they were talking in code, the way they didn’t need to explain what they were talking about. Finally, Steve sighed and walked in a different direction to leave the palace. Martin was right. He had only been training as a spy for a few days now. He can’t be expected to know everything just yet.

The walk to the palace stables was a familiar one to him now, as well as the people who worked there. He knew most of them by name now, an exercise Martin had given him. A spy must know who is around him. The more names you know, the better.

However, there was one name he hadn’t been able to get yet.

When he arrive to the stables, the Lady was there, dismounting from a beautiful bay mare. Steve immediately smiled. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Lady wanted to see him. She always seemed able to catch him every time he was at the palace. He figured that the servants were more than helpful helping her plan ‘impromptu’ meetings with him. Not that he minded. The Lady was a very pretty girl and very sweet.

“Hello, Steve,” the Lady said, grinning as she spotted him. One of the stable hands took her mare, leaving them mostly alone. “How has your day been?”

“I’m running ragged,” he said with a mock sigh. “It seems that my work is never done.”

“Palace work is hardly ever done,” she snorted. “Why else do you think there are so many people working here?”

Steve shrugged. “To be close to the people in power?”

Lady sighed. “That’s true too.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to be close to those in power?”

“Why?” she asked with a huff. “Seems like too much like a headache to me.”

Steve chuckled, remembering the prince the day before. They didn’t get much time in for training because a lot of people wanted to see him. By the end of the day, Martin claimed a headache and went to bed early.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said, smiling. “Power can be very painful.”

“Finally!” she half laughed. “Someone else gets it!”

The stable hand returned then, leading Steve’s sorry looking horse behind him.

“Seems I should be going,” Steve sighed. He bowed low to her. “Until our next run in?”

The Lady smiled. “Until next time.”
*********
Thomas checked his ledgers, double-checking his figures. Thanks to Martin’s discrete funds, he was able to purchase most of the supplies they needed for the Nacre Takeover. The duke shook his head at the name. Ghosts were a bit unimaginative when it came to naming things. Nacre Takeover? Between him and the prince, they had decided to call it the War Ender. Now that was a decent name.

There was a polite knock on his door before it slammed open. Thomas grinned as he glanced up from his work to see his wife enter the room. Kriste carried a large box under her arm.

“I’m surprised Suit even agreed to send these,” she said, walking over to his desk and putting the box down. “You’re not an official spy anymore.”

“Ah,” he teased, standing up and opening the box, “but you are! Suit couldn’t refuse to send you supplies.”

Kriste snorted, but peered into the box. It was filled with his tools, the ones he had developed at the Tree. He would have brought them with him to Nacre the year before, but couldn’t. He had no idea where he could put his tools without some meddling servant came in. These were delicate instruments, ones that careless hands shouldn’t handle.

However, now he had both trained servants and an excuse to start inventing again. Thomas grinned. Time to create.
**********
“This is an odd sort of place, isn’t it?”

Willy the Horrid looked back at the retired soldier Trey. Martin can sure pick men, Willy thought, turning his attention back to where he was going. While Nacre’s tunnels were nowhere near the same complexity or intensity as the Stand’s, he still had to watch out for the marks on the walls that led their path.

The men Martin had picked to help stock pile for the invasion were quick studies and could follow the basic routes of the tunnels. However, they still seemed at a bit of a loss when they roamed around underground.

“These tunnels have been in Nacre for hundreds of years,” Willy replied to Trey’s comment. “They’re no odder than the rest of the city.”

“True,” Trey agreed. “But never expected it to be so…” He floundered for the word. “Clean.”

That much was true. Somehow, the tunnels of Nacre did seem clean. There wasn’t litter even along the walls, no rats or mice scurrying around the corners, no scent of standing water. It was fairly clean. Willy couldn’t think of a reason why.

“At lease we won’t get any complaints about how it smells down here,” Willy grumbled. “I hate that excuse. Some people just can’t take a little discomfort.”

“Most people work hard for their comforts,” Trey pointed out. “I think they have a right to complain.”

Willy rolled his eyes. While the retired soldiers had agreed to work with the thieves of Nacre, that didn’t stop them from voicing their disapproval of the thieves’ choice of work. It was the same the world over. No one liked a thief.

Except maybe Martin.

Willy shook his head. He had first met the prince when he was just a spy in training, a small wisp of a boy with some very annoying talents. When he learned that the boy was actually a spy, Willy immediately assumed that Martin was like all the other spies, a pampered child who wanted some excitement in his life. It wasn’t until when the Stand was invaded by Seacats that he learned the truth of the prince’s past.

And now he knew that a street urchin had become a prince.

“How does he do it?” Willy whispered, taking another turn in the tunnel maze.

“How does who do what?” Trey asked.

Willy glanced behind him. Trey still followed him. They weren’t depositing supplies today. The thieves were actually teaching the retired soldiers more about the tunnels. They couldn’t be expected to lead these men by the hand during the time of the invasion. Martin had some other plans for the thieves when that time came.

“Our prince,” Willy clarified, not evening thinking of berating the older man about eavesdropping. “How did he manage to get thieves and citizens working together?”

Trey thought about it for a moment, slowly rubbing his stumbled chin. “ I don’t know,” he answered softly. “But I know that I can’t back out now. I’ve got to help. We have everything to gain from ending this war.”

And our prince to loose if we don’t, Willy thought, unable to suppress a shutter. Aeterna couldn’t afford to loose the young man. As annoying as he could be, Martin Santer was Aeterna’s best chance at ending the war and rebuilding it’s future.
********
Ann Norman had lost the prince. Again. She scowled as she walked down an empty street, wondering where her tracking skills had lost him. Prince Martin had been visiting his friend, Duke Thomas, again and had been riding back to the palace. However, once the carriage arrived, it was empty. The guards laughed it off, walking into the palace without a worry about their suddenly missing charge. For some reason, they no longer were annoyed when their prince disappeared on them.

A mystery in the open, she thought with a grumble. Sona had finally released the prince’s official records, but to Ann’s trained eye, she could tell that it wasn’t the full story. Oh, it explained some things. Like the small bit about how he had some training as a spy before he decided to become a Ghost. He could have very easily picked up the skills needed to evade someone trailing them.

However, he had spent too little time there to do it so well.

And the rather vague stories of him growing up in Fort Mesa were a little too vague. Perhaps a person couldn’t remember everything about their childhood, but Martin’s records seemed a bit too few to be actual.

It made Ann wonder just what was Prince Martin hiding.

She was also fairly certain that the queen, the princess, and the pretty little research her knew the truth.

Why are they so willing to hide the prince’s past? she wondered, slowly wandering back to her apartment. What are they trying to hide?

Maybe Lord Nick was right. Everyone had a dirty secret, and some of them were damaging. Perhaps the prince had one that could destroy even his image of a Ghost hero. She began to imagine what possible dirty secret they were trying to hide that could discredit the prince. It had to be drastic, horrific, and terrible.

The more she thought about it, the more Ann was sure that Prince Martin was keeping a deadly secret that could end his career as an Aeternan Prince.

Do I really want to do that, though? She asked herself, arriving to the building she lived in. Prince Martin was a good man. A secretive man, yes, but a good one. And he didn’t hide his love for his nation. Aeterna always came first to him. Nothing else mattered.

Isn’t that what we want in a prince? Ann concluded. Someone who puts his nation before himself?

Suddenly, finding out the prince’s damning past wasn’t so important.
***********
Martin sat at the window in his office, looking outside. It was overcast and the air felt heavy with coming rain. He could tell that the people of Nacre were busy preparing for the rain, merchants putting their goods under coverings, people getting out rain cloaks and boots, sailors busy securing their boats to the docks, children disappointed with the orders to stay indoors.

The coming rain was the least of his worries.

Only a half month left before Terk arrived.

So far, the plan was going as well as it could. Almost better. Thomas had easily gotten all the supplies they needed while Devin and his crews worked to put those supplied underground. The thieves were quickly creating maps for others to use to help them navigate the tunnels. His Ghosts and their parts of the army had been slowly entering the capital, taking on odd jobs throughout the city. When they weren’t busy at their day jobs, his men were training the volunteers who agreed to help attack the enemy when they came.

Every night, Martin had gone out to help train and give encouragement to everyone involved in the plan. He knew his visits were essential. He boosted their moral and gave them a purpose to their work. It had been a bit shocking when he first realized just how much they needed to see him, to hear his words. He was their leader, the one who inspired them to do better.

His stomach twisted with the thought that they were willing to die for this plan. For him.

“A storm is coming.” The prince knew that the Spirit wasn’t just talking about the coming rain.

“Yes,” Martin whispered, pain tightening in his chest. “It is.”
************
I don’t think I’ve ever written so many characters POVs in this short of space. I might get rid of a few of these. I was just writing them during NaNo to get into the story anyway. After this post, things really start heating up!

Now time for some hot chocolate! Enjoy the journey!