The End

Welcome to The End. The books I’ve been planning for over eleven years now has come to its conclusion. I’ve laid it out for the world to see, to be enjoyed by friends, family, and strangers alike. It’s been quite a ride to get here. And to all my readers, thank you for reading. I wasn’t sure if anyone would be interested in this story, but it seems that I’ve got at least a few fans. I hope you’ve enjoyed this.

And don’t forget to keep an eye out on this blog. I’m not done writing, not by a long shot. I’ll need to do another Camp NaNo before I post anything (I’m thinking March), and I’ll be showing that to the world as well. I haven’t decided yet which story line I’ll pick (kinda leaning towards Dawmeria Soul. Completely rewritten, I’ll have you know). I’d love to see if I can write up magic again.

Enough of my meandering finger tapping! To the conclusion!
*************
Queen Abigail bit her lower lip, uncertain what to do.

“It’s wonderful news,” Shay said, his arms still filled with paper. “Your husband is alive! King Jonathan is returning. He should be here in three days! The entire city is getting ready for his return.”

“But my son is still in a coma,” she whispered. “I’m overjoyed that Jon’s coming home… But I have Martin here, close to death.” She shook her head. “No doubt my husband has heard the news now, both of Martin’s existence and how he might now die. How am I supposed to react?”

Her Jonathan couldn’t have picked a worse time to be found alive. While she knew it was the plan for the king to return after they had won the war, she couldn’t help thinking that he could have at least waited a few days to hear news about how the war ended before being ‘rescued.’

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Shay muttered, his eyes downcast. “Is there anything I can do?”

The door burst open.

“Mom!” Sara yelled, skidding to a stop at her desk. The princess looked shocked. “Dad’s alive!”

“So I’ve heard,” Abigail sighed, grinning. “He’ll be home in a couple of days.”

“Great!” Sara laughed. “He’ll be excited to be home, I bet! We’ll have a big dinner and….” She stopped, her face paling. “Martin,” she whispered.

“I know,” Abigail sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

The three of them stared at the ground in silence. What could they do? Abigail suddenly felt very lost. Even if she did already know her husband was alive, that didn’t change anything. He would be coming home to a son who was in a coma.

It really sucked the joy out of what should have been wonderful news.

“Perhaps Martin will wake up,” Sara suggested hopefully, using an uneasy grin to mask her nervousness. “Healer Smith said that a poison can’t last forever.”

“Forgiveness,” Shay said softly, “but it’s been a week. He hasn’t shown any signs of waking up.”

“I’m afraid that I’m going to have to side with Shay,” Abigail sighed. She rubbed her eyes. She felt so tired, so exhausted. The last week had been one of the hardest of her life. The Venter army was finally moving out, taking with them the remains of the Mad General back to his estates in Venter.

Even beyond the grave that man is tearing my family apart, she thought bitterly. All she wanted was her family to be whole again.

There was a polite knock at her door.

Glancing up, she saw a guard standing in the door Sara had left open.

“Yes?” she asked wearily. “What is it?”

The man bowed, his face split in a large grin. “He’s awake.”

Sara bolted out the door.

Abigail stared at the man, unable for a moment to comprehend what he was saying. “He’s awake?” she repeated. Then she recognized the man. He was one of the guards at Martin’s apartment. “He’s awake!”

She almost knocked both Shay and the guard over as she raced after her daughter.

Martin was awake!

She followed in Sara’s hurried path, servants trying to recover after the princess barreled through. They were quick to get out of her way as well. After a moment paused, they all realized what it meant for both the princess and the queen to be running at such a hurried pace. Soon, she had servants running after her.

No one bothered to keep the servants from entering the Santer apartments. The news had spread quickly and everyone wanted to confirm it for themselves.

Six guards were at Martin’s apartment, trying to keep people back. Sara tried to shove her way through the crowd, but she made very little progress.

Abigail knew a way around this.

“EVERYONE!” she yelled, her voice surprising many. “BACK OFF!”

A path cleared for her immediately.

Sara took her chance and managed to get past the guards and into the apartment. Abigail wasn’t too far behind.

Surprisingly, no one was in the apartment. The guards must have kept everyone back to give the prince some privacy. She barely noted it as she darted into her son’s room.

Martin was sitting up in his bed, talking with his friends. Sona sat close to his side, her arm wrapped around his.

“Martin!” Sara screamed, hurtling into the room, jumping on the bed, and hugging him tight. “You’re awake!”

“Gak!” the prince said, flinching as his sister hugged him even tighter. “Yes. So I’m told…”

“Sara,” Sona laughed, “you’re crushing him!”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t,” Sara huffed, finally releasing him and grinning. “Oh, boy! You are in so much trouble!”

“Trouble?” he asked, frowning. “What did I do?”

“You caused us to worry,” Abigail answered, slowly walking to the bed. “That’s what you did.”

Her son half smiled. “Sorry about that,” he said, Sona slowly moving aside for her to come to his side. “I’ll try not to do that again.”

“You’d better not,” she warned. Then she bent down and hugged him.

And he finally hugged her back.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes.

“Thanks…” He paused. “Mom.”

Abigail hugged him all the tighter.

Now her son was truly home.
*********
A healer had to come examine him before Abigail would allow her son to leave his bed. Once the healer had arrived, they were all thrown out of the prince’s room to wait. Thomas tried listening in at the door, but shook his head after a minute.

“Martin has his powers back,” he sighed. “He sound proofed the room.”

“Then we’ll just have to wait,” Abigail said, getting comfortable in a chair by the fire. “In the meantime, how about you tell everyone outside the apartment that Martin’s awake.”

“I’d rather wait for the healer to tell everyone,” Thomas grumbled, plopping down next to the door. “That way everyone will know that he’s fine.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Sona chuckled, curled at the end of a couch. “Public speaking isn’t that bad.”

“Would you like to tell them?” the duke challenged.

“I’m just his lady,” Sona responded, shrugging. “I shouldn’t make such an announcement.”

“Martin hasn’t proposed?” Sara asked, leaning over the back of the couch.

“No.”

Sona refused to explain her short answer.

Abigail shook her head. “We’ll wait for the healer,” she decided. “It’s best if the news comes from him anyway. That way, the people will believe it as truth.”

“Good, because it is.”

They turned. The healer walked out of the prince’s room, looing a bit miffed.

“Something the matter?” Abigail asked, standing up with worry.

“He won’t stay still!”

“Of course I won’t,” Martin scoffed, leaning against the door. “I have things I want to do.”

“They’ll wait,” the healer snapped. “Back into bed! You need your rest!”

“I’ve been in that bed for a week!” Martin protested. “I want to move!”

“Bed!”

“Come on, Martin,” Thomas said, taking his friend by the forearm. “Do as the healer says.” He paused then grinned. “Or at least wait until he’s out of sight and then get up.”

“BED!”

The duke led the prince back into his room, the two of them chuckling.

“Your Majesty,” the healer pled, “please have someone watch him and make sure he stays in bed until at least tomorrow. He needs his rest.”

“I’ll make sure he stays in bed,” Abigail promised. “Now, I have a favor to ask of you. Will you talk with the mass of people just outside, waiting to hear the news? A man of your integrity should keep people from spreading ugly rumors.”

“Of course,” the healer said, bowing. “I am used to announcing the health of public officials.” He took a deep breath and opened the door. Behind it, servants, nobles, and others crammed their heads to look inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the prince. The healer closed the door, shutting the noise out.

“We’ll take turns watching him,” Abigail suggested to them. “I’d prefer it if someone he knows keeps him in bed. Who’ll go first?”

“I will!” Sara offered.

“You can’t,” Abigail said. “You have duties to preform today, remember?”

“Bah!” Sara brushed off. “Sitting through another luncheon with petty nobles is nothing compared to my brother.”

“I’d rather you were at the luncheon,” Abigail said firmly. “I want you to spread the news among them that you’re brother is awake and is doing fine.”

“Fine,” Sara muttered, plopping down in a chair. Then she grinned. “At least I get to see their faces when they first hear the news. Nick is going to be so mad!”

“Thomas and I can watch him,” Kriste offered.

“As can I,” Sona added. “I’ve been doing it all week.”

“Very well,” Abigail said, grinning. “I should go myself. There’s a lot to prepare.”
***********
It was well after dark when Thomas and Kriste left. They spent a very pleasant day talking. It was like old times, with teasing and laughter. Martin got stronger with each hour, able to sit up and then to stand. By the end of the day, he managed to walk around his apartment twice.

“Don’t work too hard,” Thomas warned him as he and his wife got ready to leave.

“Yeah,” Kriste chuckled. “We wouldn’t want the healer to get after you for not following his orders.”

Martin shrugged. “I’m not good at following orders.”

“Ha!” Thomas laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “Isn’t that the truth. We’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Until tomorrow then.”

Sona waited for them to finally leave before sneaking her way under Martin’s arm. She nuzzled her nose on his neck, holding him tight.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” she whispered, his arms likewise wrapping around her. “I was so worried.”

“I know,” he whispered, lightly kissing her hair. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” she muttered, unable to keep from smiling. “You stupid idiot.”

He chuckled, squeezing her. “Let’s go outside.”

“Outside?” she asked, pulling away a bit. He shrugged.

“I’ve been inside all week. I’d like to go out.”

“You were unconscious until today,” she pointed out. “You can’t remember being inside all week.”

“Humor me.”

Sona laughed. “For you, my love,” she said, letting him lead her outside. “Anything.”

It had turned cold as the winter winds began to gather. Shivering, she wondered why he wanted to come out. But he had and she wanted to be with him.

“Oh,” he sighed, sitting down on a bench. She sat beside him, snuggling next to him for warmth. “Perhaps we should have stayed inside.”

“We’re out,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “We can be out here for a few minutes.”

“Hum.”

He sounded thoughtful. “Martin,” she whispered. “Are you alright?”

“I’m awake, aren’t I?”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You just went through a week of reliving your worst memories. Are you alright?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, rubbing her arm. “I did experience the worst all over again,” he said softly, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “But… None of that matters now. All that really matters is what I can do for Aeterna.” He chuckled softly, lightly kissing her head. “And that’s the end of it.”

“Hm,” she said, smiling. That was her Martin.

“You know,” he said after a minute. “The war is finally over.”

Sona felt her heart skip a beat. He slid down to the ground and faced her on one knee. She quivered with excitement as he took her hands.

“You made me wait until after the war to ask this,” he said, his expression serious. “I will not wait any longer. Sona Merette, love of my life and light of my heart, will you marry me?”

Her heart jumped into her throat. Unable to say anything, she nodded. “Yes,” she finally squeaked, smiling so much it hurt. “Yes, yes, yes!” She laughed and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Yes!”

Martin laughed with her, returning her hug with fervor. She didn’t want to let go of this moment, of him. It was too perfect.

“I have something for you.”

Unwilling to let go, she pulled back enough for him to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a simple silver ring with a blue jewel set in.

“I’m told this is a temporary Connection,” he said, removing one of her arms from around his neck and putting the ring on her finger. “It’ll become your Connection once we’re married.”

Sona stared at the ring, a bit surprised. “I thought only Santers could have Connections,” she said, taking a closer look at the ring. Now she could take in the details in the soft moonlight. A leaf pattern decorated the band and the jewel seemed like a flower.

He shrugged. “Once I had intentions to marry you, this ring showed up in my rooms. Aeterna said that it wanted to keep you safe.” He smirked. “It seems to think that I won’t put up with anyone else.”

“As well you shouldn’t,” she teased, cupping his face in her hand. One of the first things he did when he woke up was shave. “I wouldn’t put up with it.”

He laughed and pulled her in again. Sona held him tight, knowing that no one would ever have him but her.
*********
Martin woke up the next day feeling even better than before. Shortly after he had proposed to Sona, his mother and sister came in to check on him. They were ecstatic when they saw the Connection on Sona’s finger and knew exactly what it meant. Sara had tried to hug them both when she saw it.

Late into the night, they talked of the marriage. No details were finalized by any means, Sona wanted her family present for that, but it was nice to talk of something other than his health and the end of the war. The only reason they stopped talking was because he fell asleep in his chair. It wasn’t that he found the talk boring, but he was still recovering from his ordeal. They told him goodnight and left so he could rest.

It was late in the morning when he woke up again. When he had woken up the day before, he felt weak and exhausted. Understandable, considering that he spent a week in a poisoned induced sleep. Now, after a full, natural, nights sleep, he felt ready to face Aeterna again.

That is, he thought as the healer entered in room, if he’s going to let me.

“And how are we feeling today?” the healer asked.

“Much better,” he said truthfully as he sat up. “And ready to go rejoin the rest of the world.”

The healer snorted. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

The healer was through in his examination. Martin endured it, knowing that if he were a good patient, he was more likely to get cleared.

“Well,” the healer huffed, standing back after the examination. “I can’t find anything wrong with you…”

“Good,” Martin said, standing up from the bed. “I’ll get going!”

“Now wait a minute,” the healer said, placing himself between him and the door. It was then that Martin noticed just how short the man was and how bald he was going. “I have some instructions.”

Martin sighed. He knew there was going to be a catch.

“If you start to feel suddenly weak or dizzy, you are to sit down immediately. If it doesn’t improve, you are to return here to your rooms and wait for myself or another healer to come check on you.

“Also,” he went on, holding a finger up. “You are to get plenty to eat. You haven’t eaten in a week and you’ll need to rebuild your strength.”

“Yes, sir,” Martin said. Eating whatever was placed in front of his face wasn’t going to be a problem.

“And lastly,” the healer finished. “You’re not allowed to leave the palace grounds until tomorrow. Understood?”

“Every word.”

The healer sighed. “And I still worry. Go on. I know you want to be else where.”

Martin flashed the healer a grin before darting out of his apartment. Finally! He wasn’t the type of person to keep still. And how could he? With all of Aeterna in a state of excitement? The war was over and he was alive! How could life not get any better?

His first stop was Sona’s new cambers. Knocking on the door, he waited for her answer before opening the door. Inside reminded him a lot of his own room, only in blue. Sona stood before a vanity, brushing her hair. He smiled. He was so lucky to have her.

“Well, good morning,” she said, turning to smile at him. “I see the healer let you out of your room.”

“Finally,” he laughed, approaching her. He hugged her tight, giving her a very passionate kiss. She returned the kiss, her hands grasping his hair. When they broke off, they just grinned at each other.

“People will talk if we’re together alone,” she teased, flicking the tip of his nose.

“We can deal with rumors,” he proclaimed. “Now, how about breakfast? Abigail wanted us to join her and Sara this morning.”

“Of course,” Sona said, turning to take something from the vanity. She froze when she only saw herself in the mirror. “You still don’t have a reflection?” she asked, turning back to him.

Martin sighed. “I know,” he muttered, glancing at the mirror. “I don’t know why.”

“Hum,” she said, taking his arm. “Perhaps we should do something about that.”

“I don’t know what.”

They talked about what they could do about his missing reflection as they walked to the queen’s apartment. Although it was late in the morning for Martin, it was normal time for everyone else. The palace staff pretended to not notice the two of them as they walked, but Martin could tell the curiosity and the joy the people felt as they saw them.

It was nice to have those feelings pound him again.

They arrived to the queen’s apartment to find it in a flutter of activity.

“What’s going on?” he asked, stepping aside as a man hurried out with an old piece of furniture.

“Ah,” Abigail said, spotting them. She stepped over torn up carpet that was to be replaced. “You’re here! How are you two doing today?”

“Much better,” he answered, still confused by the work being done. It seemed as if his mother was trying to redecorate the royal apartment in a day. “What’s happening?”

Abigail paused, glancing back at the workers. “That’s right,” she muttered, biting her lower lip. “You haven’t heard.”

“Heard what?” Sona asked for him.

The queen turned to both of them, grinning. “Your father’s alive. And he’s coming home tomorrow.”
************
Nacre came into their view about mid morning. Jon gazed up at his beloved city. It was covered in banners of blue and silver, his family colors. People crowded the streets and filled the roofs to get a look at him. Jon was immediately glad that he had kept most of his beard. It concealed his quivering chin.

Today was the day that he told Martin the truth.

They were only a day’s march from Nacre when the news reached them. Martin had finally woken up and was making a full recovery. Jon couldn’t stop his tears of relief at the news. His son was safe and alive.

Now the prince was going to get another shock to his recovering system.

He rode at the head of the army, waving as the people cheered him on in the streets. He waved as he passed, glad to finally be home.

Trumpets announced his ride through the streets, causing the air to ring with even more noise. Jon took it all in.

He was finally home.
**********
Martin sat in his apartment, his eyes closed as he felt the pounding of Nacre’s emotions.

His dad had arrived.

He took a deep breath, concentrating on the emotions of the city. He had heard that nearly everyone loved King Jonathan and now he could tell it was true. Aeterna truly loved their king.

What is he going to think of me? he wondered, his stomach forming knots. After his mother told him the news the day before, he almost collapsed in shock. After years of wishing for a father, after having already gone through the grief of loosing him before he could get to know him, the truth was revealed. His father was alive and coming home.

“You shouldn’t worry,” the Spirit told him.

“I can’t help it,” he whispered, slowly opening his eyes. He was alone in his apartment. It was Abigail’s idea that he wait in his apartment for his father to come to him. He was fine with that. That way he could be nervous alone.

“I guess we can’t tell you different,” the Spirit said somewhat smugly. “You’re in for a surprise.”

Martin frowned and sat up. “What are you talking about?”

There was no response.

The prince sighed. It figured that the Spirit wouldn’t answer him. It enjoyed playing with him. He sat there nervously, waiting for his dad to finally show up.
*********
Abigail and her daughter stood on the palace steps as the king finally returned home. The queen beamed as she watched him approach. The beard, she thought reluctantly, looked good on him. He wasn’t going to have to argue hard to keep it. He was still fit, though she could tell that his knee was bothering him as he dismounted. It was a wound he was going to have to deal with for the rest of his life.

“Dad!” Sara yelled. She broke protocol and ran down the steps and into his waiting arms. Her husband grabbed their daughter in a hug, swinging her around. “Oh, Sara,” he choked, holding her tight. “My Sara.”

“Dad,” Sara cried, kissing her father’s cheek. “Welcome home.”

He put her down, patting her cheek. “My,” he said, looking her over, “how much you have grown. I hope no boy has gotten your attentions.”

Not surprising, Sara blushed. Abigail hid a grin behind her hand as she descended the steps. She hadn’t gotten all the details yet, but she was certain that someone had caught the princess’s eye.

Jon looked up as she approached, the love he had for her shining in his expression. Without a word, he took her in his strong arms.

“My Abby,” he said softly, resting his forehead against hers.

“My Jon,” she chuckled, closing her eyes. “I’ve waited so long for this day.”

“We all have.” He kissed her gently, in front of everyone. Abigail wouldn’t have allowed it if it weren’t for the fact that they had been separated for so long. Anyone could watch, for all she cared. Her husband was home!

Cheers irrupted when they broke. Nobles, servants, citizens had all gathered in the courtyard to watch the royal family to be reunited.

There was, however, someone missing.

“Where’s Martin?” Jon asked, looking around for their son.

“He’s waiting for you,” Abigail said. “In his apartment.”

Jon frowned. “Why?”

“Mom thought that you two should meet in private,” Sara said, worming her way under her dad’s other arm. “I mean… he told both us privately who he was.”

“The same courtesy should be given to you,” Abigail added. “I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about without extra ears around.”

Jon glanced up the palace. “You’re right,” he said softly. “There shouldn’t be extra ears.” He took a deep breath. “I’d like to see him.”

Abigail nodded and as a family they walked into the palace. People watched as they made their way to the royal apartments. Everyone had heard of Abigail’s plan and many disapproved of it. Many had wanted to see the king’s reaction to seeing his son again.

They’ve already missed out on that, Abigail thought. Jon learned about Martin before I did.

Now it was time for Martin to learn the truth.

“Those are his rooms,” Abigail said, pointing down the hall to their son’s apartment. “He’s waiting.”

Jon took a deep breath and went forward without a word. He opened the door and quietly walked in, closing the door behind him.

“That’s Fred!”

Abigail turned around. Sona was standing behind them, her face pale.

“Yes,” she laughed. “Fred Chief and Jonathan Santer are the same person.”

“Fred Chief?” Sara exclaimed, her eyes wide. “But… He’s a Ghost General!”

“Come on, you two,” the queen said, ushering them to her apartment. “I’ll tell you the truth as Martin and his father talk.”
***********
Martin stood with his back to the door when he opened it. Jon softly closed the door, hoping that his son would take the truth well.

The prince turned around at the sound of it being closed, taking in a deep breath as he did so. “Fred,” he said, mildly surprised. “Hi.”

Jon smiled. “Hello, Martin,” he said. “I hear congratulations are in order. You ended a war.”

Martin chuckled, running a hand through his short dark hair. “I almost got killed doing it though.”

“You survived,” Jon pointed out. His knee began to ache. “Can we sit?” he asked, reaching down to rub his knee. “The ride wasn’t an easy one.”

“Of course,” Martin said quickly, gesturing to the chairs around the fireplace.

“All of the Venter armies are ordered to pull out,” Jon explained as he sat. “Many of them are being escorted to the boarder.”
“Problems?” his son asked.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” he assured. “Even the Venter king wants his people out of here. I got the impression that he wanted this war to be over well over a year ago.”

Martin chuckled. “I think everyone did.”

“True.” He glanced around the entry room. It didn’t have any personality yet, but he figured that would change in time, when Martin finally settled down as the prince. “How are you?” he asked. “I also heard that you got poisoned with a new type of Nightmare Dust.”

The prince squirmed. “That’s also true,” he admitted reluctantly. “That’s how I almost got killed.”

“Tell me about it.”

Martin took a deep breath and then explained everything. Jon listened intently, not letting a single detail escape his notice. When Martin spoke of his time spent under, the prince’s voice went very soft. Jon didn’t bother trying to dig more into his darkest memories. There was a reason why his son didn’t talk about them. It was less painful that way.

“Then I woke up two days ago,” Martin finished. “I haven’t done much in that time. Just proposed to the woman I love…”

“Wait,” Jon said, finally stopping the narrative. “You proposed to someone? Who?”

“Sona Merette,” his son said softly. “You remember her? Right?”

“The pretty little researcher in charge of finding you,” Jon said, remembering. “She always had a crush on you, you know. I’m surprised you let her close.”

“She was persistent,” Martin said with a weak chuckle. “Now I can’t imagine my life without her.”

“That’s the way it should be,” Jon snorted. He suddenly grinned. “Congratulations again. I’m happy that you found someone.”

“Thanks, Fred,” Martin said, blushing a bit. He then glanced at the clock, noting that they had been talking for at least a half hour.

“Expecting someone?” Jon asked softly. It was time to stop stalling.

Martin deserved a father.

“Actually, yes,” his son answered, frowning. “I’m a bit surprised. But he’s late…”

“Martin,” Jon said softly, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clenched in front of him. “Have you ever known me to be late?”

“Well…” his son started to say when the meaning of the words hit him. His head snapped back to stare at him. Jon kept his eye contact, fearing for a moment to loose it.

“No…” Martin breathed, sitting back. He glanced away. “Really…?” He bowed his head, his expression hidden from him. Jon felt his stomach drop. What if Martin never forgave him for this?

Suddenly, his son’s shoulders shook. At first, Jon thought it was anger, then Martin’s laughter grew louder. The prince threw his head back, unable to hide his laughter.

“It makes perfect sense!” he laughed, meeting his gaze and grinning. “Perfect, ironic, sense!”

Jon grinned. That was his Martin.

“I didn’t want to scare you away,” he explained.

“Good thing too,” Martin continued to laugh. “I would have defiantly run as far from you as possible if I knew you were the king of Aeterna.”

“Then you understand why I lied?”

“You’re talking to someone who made a living lying,” Martin pointed out, grinning. “I have no reason to cast stones at you.”

Jon grinned. “That’s my son.”

Martin finally stopped laughing, tears of joy filling his eyes. “Dad.”

They both stood and hugged each other tight.

Finally, after years of being apart, father and son were reunited.
**********
A celebration had been planned. Martin tugged at the sleeves of his uniform coat, making sure it still fit.

“Nervous?” his father asked. Martin grinned at him.

“Not for a minute.”

“Liar,” the king teased. Martin continued to grin.

It had been a month since his father had returned, a month since the war was finally declared over. The month was quickly filled with trying to return things to normal. King Jonathan was quick to return to Court and took charge of the government, letting his wife take a much-needed vacation.

Queen Abigail spent most of her time with her daughter and future daughter-in-law. The three of them were busy planning for a wedding. Martin was sure that the giggling he heard from Sona lately was due to that planning. He decided that it was best to just not get involved.

His time was filled by being the prince, always in the king’s shadow as his father taught him about what it meant to be the ruler of Aeterna. He had learned more about being a king in the month after the war than he ever thought possible.

The celebration for ending the war was postponed for many reasons. King Jonathan’s first proclamation was a period of mourning and rebuilding. Their nation had endured much and many lives had been lost. They needed time to grieve and pick up the pieces. Martin was quick to help wherever, whenever, he could. He could tell that the people were grateful for his help. It restored many’s faith in the Aeternan government.

After the period was over, plans immediately went into motion to celebrate. It had taken a week to gather everything, send out flyers, and even to allow people from the surrounding area to come. It promised to be one of the biggest celebrations Nacre had ever seen.

“You do look alright,” Jon commented to him. “Now, stop fidgeting.”

“I don’t fidget,” Martin huffed. “I check.”

Jon chuckled, clapping his shoulder. “I still think you should wear a crown,” his father said, glancing briefly at his unadorned head.

“You don’t wear one,” he pointed out.

“I’m the king. I don’t need it.”

Martin snorted. “Then I shouldn’t either.”

“Fine,” his father laughed. “I won’t force you. You’ll just loose it by the end of the night anyway.”

“What’s taking them so long?” Martin asked, glancing up the palace steps. His mother, sister, and fiancée had yet to join them outside. The celebration was to take place surrounding the Aeternan Tree. Night was falling and many of Nacre were already there.

“Women just take a long time,” Jon explained. “And the more noble, the longer they take. Your Sona is not going to be any different. Just live with it and go on.”

Martin shook his head. What a silly thing.

“Martin,” his father suddenly said. “I have a question for you.”

“Sure,” he said, turning to the king. “What is it?”

“A couple years ago, I knew a young man who was keeping a dangerous secret,” Jon said. “One that kept him as a secret’s captive. He was going through a terrible time and didn’t ask anyone for help.” Martin nodded, remembering that day.

“I asked him a very important question,” his father went on. “I asked him why he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t very honest with me.”

“Figures,” Martin said, smirking.

“Yes,” Jon chuckled. “But I’d like to pose a question to you now. Are you happy?”

Am I happy?

A simple question, but vastly important at the same time.

“It seems that the men haven’t left us at all,” his mother said, appearing at the top of the steps. Beside her, Sara and Sona appeared. Martin had only eyes for Sona, his love for her bursting inside him. She was so beautiful, especially in blue. Her green eyes danced to see his expression.

“Of course we wouldn’t leave you beauties behind,” the king teased. “We’d both be out of the home before we could apologize.”

“Isn’t that the truth!” Sara laughed, skipping down the steps.

Martin gazed at his family, smiling.

“Am I happy?” he quietly asked. “Yes. Yes, I am.” It was amazing to admit it. He had dreaded for so long about becoming the prince, that this simple realization, this simple fact, amazed him. He was happy. He was part of a family, he belonged to a nation he loved, and his future was bright again.

“Martin Santer.”

Martin paused and turned. For some odd reason, the designers of the palace had polished the stone around the palace steps so well that it was practically a mirror. He was expecting to see nothing but the others’ refection.

Instead, he saw the Spirit standing there, a smile on its many lips.

“Now,” it said, “you are the Crown Prince of Aeterna."

It faded into the wrong image that had haunted his dreams years before and it stared at him, the deep blue eyes of his father twinkling.

“Congrats,” the wrong image said. “You’ve created your own image.”

Then it too faded…

Martin stared at his own reflection, shocked. It wasn’t how he remembered himself. He had always seen a reckless spy, a young man with no place to call his own and didn’t care.

Now he saw himself. A young prince, a man who loved his nation and his life. Martin smiled. That was who he was.

“Martin?” Sona said, touching his shoulder. “It’s time to go…” She gasped slightly when she realized what she was staring at.

“Oh, Martin,” she breathed, wrapping her arm around his.

“What’s wrong?” his father asked, coming to join them, his wife and daughter following. They too gasped in shock to finally see his reflection.

“Nothing,” Martin said, grinning. “Nothing is wrong.” He turned to them, smiling. “Everything is right. Finally, everything is right.”

The End
*************
Thanks for the adventure, Martin. Let’s do it again sometime.

Enjoy the journey!

Martin Santer

The war is over, but our hero is poisoned with a new Nightmare Dust that no one can cure. Let the battle for Martin’s soul begin!
*************
Sona had woken up in an unfamiliar place. It wasn’t the hall she remembered falling asleep in, and she wasn’t in her room. But where she did wake up was a peaceful calm place. The tall windows cast the early morning light across the room, giving her details of the calm blue carpet and sheets of her bed. The bed was a canopy top, and the mist curtains were drawn around her. She slowly sat up, knowing that she was placed in this room for her peace of mind.

The exact opposite of the dread she felt in her heart.

“Martin,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. Her prince was hurt. She needed to know what was going on. As quietly as she could, she pulled the mist curtain aside, noticing slippers at the foot of the bed. She put them on and crept to the door. She didn’t know why she was being quiet. Perhaps if she kept quiet, she wouldn’t scream.

She reached the door and opened it a crack, trying to get a sense of where she was.

A guard in an Aeternan uniform stood by the door.

He glanced down as she peeked out, his expression bland. “You’re awake,” he said softly.

“Where am I?” she asked, opening the door a bit further.

“In the royal guest chambers,” the guard answered. “The queen ordered you here to sleep off the sleeping draught she had you take.”

Is that why I fell asleep? She wondered. All she remembered was the pain of learning that Martin was hurt. She shook her head. Martin made a wreck out of her.

The queen ordered me here.

Sona paled a bit.

The entire palace knows that I’m Martin’s mysterious woman.

She then shook that thought out of her head. She had already come to the decision to be by Martin’s side. There was no more hiding from her.

“I’d like to see Martin,” she said, opening the door a bit further.

“After you eat breakfast,” the guard said, his face set in stone for all the expression he showed. “Queen Abigail’s order.”

“Fine,” Sona huffed. “I’ll go get breakfast…”

“A servant will bring you breakfast,” the guard interrupted. “I will watch you eat to make sure the queen’s order is carried out. Now, go back inside and wait for your breakfast.”

Sona scowled, but did as she was told. Martin had complained about how he was used to serving and not being served. Now she understood how frustrated he felt. However, there was a good thing to having breakfast brought to her. She wouldn’t have to deal with everyone’s staring.

Sitting down back on the bed, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She had to be calm and in control. It wouldn’t do her any good to be an emotional wreck. After a few moments, she decided to clean herself up. It wouldn’t do any good walking around still looking like she slept in her clothes. There was a vanity by her bed, complete with wash basin and brush. She quickly brushed through her hair, braided it, and then tugged on her clothes. All things considering, she looked alright.

Her breakfast was brought shortly by the queen’s personal maid, Mandy. The motherly woman only smiled gently at her and told her to eat everything on her plate, her eyes darting to the guard who stood just inside the door. Sona understood the meaning. Abigail was determined that she got a full meal. Doing as told, she ate everything on the plate. Only once she was done was the guard satisfied.

“Follow me,” he said, walking out of the room.

Sona took another deep breath. She had to do this. She had to see him.

She was expecting the guard to lead her to the palace infirmary, but he instead took a turn for the royal apartments. Sona felt her heart swell with a bit of hope. Perhaps they had moved him back into his apartment to recover.

A dark part of her heart told her that they took him there to die.

Sona tried to ignore the stares that followed her as she and the guard went to the royal apartments. But she kept glancing around her, catching people gaping at her. She felt herself blush. These people had known her as the researcher who didn’t stand for any funny business. She was there for a job and that was it. It must have been a shock to learn that she was the one who had caught their prince’s attention.

She let out a soft sigh of relief as she entered the royal apartments. Here, there weren’t many servants or anyone else. This was the Santers’ home. No one idly walked in without a reason.

All too soon, they were at Martin’s apartment.

“You can go in alone,” the guard said, standing at attention. “I’ll wait here until you’re ready to go back.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, bobbing her head. It seemed a bit awkward for her to have a guard, but she was a bit grateful. With a guard around, she didn’t have to worry about someone trying to interfere. Without waiting another second, she opened the door.

The entry room looked like it always did. Everything in place and clean. Wondering what was going on, she entered Martin’s room. She froze as she entered.

Queen Abigail sat on a chair beside the prince’s bed, reading a book. Martin lay on the bed, the covers up to his chest and his hands resting on his stomach. Oddly, she noticed that he wore his Connection.

Abigail glanced up as she entered, her eyes dark from lack of sleep.

And she had me take a sleeping draught? Sona wondered. It seemed a bit hypocritical.

“You’ve eaten breakfast?” the queen asked, putting a bookmark in her book and closing it.

“The guard wouldn’t let me come without breakfast,” Sona answered, carefully walking to Martin’s side. She glanced down at him. His breathing was slow and even, as if he were simply asleep. “Is he alright?”

Abigail didn’t say anything for a long minute.

“We don’t know,” she said softly.

Sona frowned, looking at the queen. “What do you mean?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “How can you not know? What’s wrong with him?”

Abigail sighed, glancing at her sleeping son. “Terk had a new form of Nightmare Dust,” she explained. “Sometime during the fight, he managed to poison Martin with it.”

“A new form of Nightmare Dust?” Sona repeated, glancing at the prince’s calm face. “Are you sure? Why isn’t he thrashing or screaming? Like last time?” She glanced out the window, noting the sunshine. “And shouldn’t the weather be terrible right now?”

“Terk had set up a trap for Martin,” Abigail said, sounding worn. “He had set up the entire throne room as a sort of Inhibitor. We believe that because he was poisoned unconnected to the land, the land isn’t reacting. To the Spirit, Martin is simply sleeping.”

It made sense. “But what about the new Dust?” she asked, focusing on Martin’s peaceful face. “We both know he’s been through hell.”

“Healer Smith is trying to find out what exactly is different about this poison,” the queen answered. She reached over and put her hand on her son’s forehead. “But before Martin went under, he told us that he was in a lot of pain. I seriously doubt that this calm he’s showing is what’s really happening.”

“That’s Martin,” Sona said, shaking her head. “He doesn’t want people to know he’s in pain.” She paused. “How long has he been poisoned?”

“It’s been over twelve hours,” Abigail said, quickly dashing her hopes. “Terk didn’t even know if this poison would wear off.” The queen bowed her head. “All we can do is wait and see.”

Sona bit her lower lip. Over twelve hours? She wanted to cry. Why was this happening?

No! she ordered herself. I will not cry! Taking a deep breath, she took one of Martin’s hands, squeezing it.

“I’ll leave,” Abigail said, standing up. She smiled a bit. “I have a meeting with General Terk’s second to talk about his surrender.” The queen rolled her eyes. “It’s going to be short.” She paused again, glancing at her son. “I’ll leave him to your good hands.”

Sona returned the small smile. “I don’t know what I can do for him.”

“Perhaps we just need to be with him,” the queen suggested. “They found that with the original Nightmare Dust that it helps to talk to the victims.”

“I seem to recall that didn’t help Martin last time,” Sona pointed out.

The queen shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps something will get to him. I’ll come by at lunch.” She then left, her feet dragging. Sona waited until she heard the door close before she sat closer to her prince. Absently, she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Come on, Martin,” she whispered. “Get out of this.”
*************
They had been traveling for three days. Jon rode on a borrowed horse, not the least bit surprised by the speed at which General Sanders was moving his army. At this rate, they’d arrive in Nacre within the week. He could practically feel the excitement in the air. The entire army was an honor guard, protecting their king’s grand return home. Jon didn’t see anything so grand about it.

Then again, he was a bit too nervous to think anything grand.

That evening he sat in his private tent, writing a letter to Abby. He often wrote letters to Abby, even when he wasn’t going to be sending them. It helped to sort his thoughts and emotions to explain it to his wife. The last few years had been troubling and only the letters to his wife had been listening.

I’m worried about how Martin’s going to react when he finds out the truth, he wrote, already feeling better for getting it out. He’s known me a Fred for so long, can he believe that I am actually his father? I know it’s silly to ask. Martin’s been a spy for a long time and he knows why people lie, but I can’t help worrying. He’s my son. He deserved this truth long before now.

Will he forgive me? I hope so. I know it seems that he’s the type to let things go, but there are people I know he will never forgive. I do not wish to be on that list.

“Your Majesty?”

Jon paused from his writing. He sat on his cot, a traveling writing desk on his lap. General Sanders had entered his tent, a newspaper in his hand.

“Yes?” he asked.

The general gulped. Without saying anything, he handed the paper over to him. Frowning, Jon took it.

His world dropped from beneath him.

WAR OVER! BUT AT PRINCELY COST!

“What?” he breathed, quickly scanning the article. He quickly picked up the details. Terk was dead. Martin had been poisoned with a new Nightmare Dust. They had no idea what he was going through or if he was going to wake up.

“No,” he whispered, closing his eyes tight against the tears. “No, no, no!” He started sobbing. No! Not this close to being reunited with his son! It couldn’t end like this!

When he was done crying, he glanced up, realizing Sanders had left him alone in his pain. Jonathan wasted no time and immediately began writing again to Abby.

Oh, Abby. We can’t loose him again. What can we do?
**********
Sona had eaten breakfast again, watched over by the guard. It was very routine now. Every morning, she’d wake up in the royal guest cambers, get ready for the day, eat breakfast under watch, then get escorted to Martin’s room to spend the rest of the day. She’d eat lunch and dinner there, usually accompanied by either Queen Abigail or Princess Sara. Rarely both. Once it was fully dark, the guard would then take her back to her room.

This was day seven of the routine.

“Don’t you have a replacement or something?” Sona asked, wiping her face of crumbs.

“Of course,” the guard answered. “I just happened to be the one on duty when you decide to move.”

“It must be boring,” she commented. The only place she went that wasn’t Martin’s apartment was to her old room to get her things. Extra guards had accompanied her there and kept the servants back as she packed. She didn’t spend long. Like Martin, she had a tendency to not own much.

“It isn’t boring,” he said truthfully. “I am deeply honored to protect you. And I have met many people this last week.”

That was an understatement. Nearly everyone wanted to see the fallen prince. Sona had met everyone who came to visit. General Westfield, Terk’s second, had dropped by after his surrender meeting with the queen. He had offered his deepest condolences and wished the prince a speedy recovery.

And he was the least of the visitors.

Every ambassador, every high ranking noble and politician, everyone who thought they were important, came by to visit.

And the queen expected her to deal with all of them.

Sona wasn’t sure what the queen had in mind when she asked her to deal with all the visitors until after the second day. When she said farewell to the ambassador from Poca. It was the end of another painful day of watching Martin just laying there, not moving.

“He’s going to make it,” the ambassador said, picking up his coat as he stood up. “Farewell.”

She had managed a nod. “Thank you for coming.”

He paused at the door, half turning to look at them. “You know,” he said, smiling gently. “I can see why Martin likes you.”

“Ambassador?” she asked.

“You should hear rumors about him and you in the city,” he said. “Most of it good. I was expecting you to be a silly farm girl, but I know differently now. You’ll make a wonderful princess.” He bowed and left.

Abigail had asked her to deal with the powerful visitors so they could meet her and get to know her.

It’s all politics, she thought. Not that she cared right now. Martin was her concern right now.

“I’m ready,” she said.

The guard nodded and led her out. The way to Martin’s apartment was familiar to her now, as well as the servants. Many people had come by to watch her as she made her way through the palace, trying to get a glimpse of her.

I’m not even engaged to Martin yet, she thought, shaking her head. I shouldn’t be making this big of a fuss.

No one was in Martin’s apartment when she arrived, only the guards who stood by his door. Nodding to them, she entered the apartment and the prince’s room. Immediately her eyes found the prince, still the same way she had left him. Her insides ached like it did every time she saw him.

Sighing, she sat down in her usual chair by his side and took his hand. There was no response from him.

“Martin,” she said, hoping her words reached him. “When are you coming back?” She lightly kissed him on the cheek, smoothing his hair.

There was a polite knock at the door.

Sona sighed. Another person she had to deal with.

“Come in,” she said.

The door opened and Thomas walked in, followed closely by Kriste.

“Can you believe how long the list is to visit?” Thomas said, shaking his head. “I’m his best friend and it took me a week waiting to finally visit.”

Sona felt her heart jump into her throat. Friends. She began to sob, covering her eyes with her free hand.

“Oh, Sona,” Kriste breathed. The spy then crossed the room to her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s so hard,” Sona sobbed, squeezing Martin’s hand. “I just want him to come back!”

“He’ll come back,” Thomas said, pulling up a chair and sitting down in front of her. “He’s a fighter. He’s not going to let some poison bring him down.”

“You’ve heard of Healer Smith’s report,” Sona said, her frame shaking with grief. “There’s nothing we can do. We don’t know anything about this new poison other than it was created from Nightmare Dust. Terk didn’t even know if it would wear off.”

Kriste snorted. “All poisons wear off,” she said firmly. “You have to keep that in mind, alright?”

Sona nodded, finally getting her emotions back under control. Kriste was right. Just as a master at poisons as her brother, Kriste knew more about the nature of poisons than most people. Perhaps even Healer Smith.

“Do you think you can come up with an antidote?” she asked, turning to her friend.

“I’ve been working with Smith this entire week,” Kriste reported. “It might take time, but we’ll find something.”

“Thank you,” Sona said, smiling weakly. “I know you and Martin haven’t been on the best terms lately…”

Kriste shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now. Luke’s dead. Nothing can bring him back.” She paused, her eyes misting. “But I’ll do what I can to make sure his friend doesn’t die. He wouldn’t have liked that.”

“No,” Sona agreed, gazing back at Martin’s peaceful face. “Luke wouldn’t like that at all.”
***********
All he could remember was pain. He couldn’t even remember his name. There was only the pain. The pain of a lifetime.

He ran from scene to scene, reliving each terrible moment.

He was a child, too young to know what was going on but old enough to know that things weren’t right. He screamed as fiery pain seared his through his body, his features melting away and painfully forming into new ones. Then something smothered him, suffocating him until he blacked out.

He ran to the next scene to escape the pain.

He was a kid trying to survive on an unforgiving street. Rain poured down on his unprotected head, wind blew through his rags, the cold bit at his flesh, threatening to kill him. There were other children in the same situation he was in, all struggling to survive. Every time he tried to befriend one, something happened. One was beaten to death. One was found dead, frozen after unable to find shelter from a winter storm. One sold her life to the slavers for a bit of food. One agreed to be a playboy for men. One by one, each face disappeared from his life, vanishing into something more horrible than the streets.

And he couldn’t help them. He couldn’t even feed himself.

He kept running.

His dream of leaving the streets had turned into a terrible nightmare. A man, a thieving lord from the streets, had tracked him all the way across the ocean. He was determined to keep him. The thief broke his leg. The thief hit him across the back with a steel brush. He begged the man to stop, but the blows kept coming. Pain racked his back, each strike bringing him closer and closer to death.

Death was better than this pain.

He ran again, trying to find some relief.

The pain was no longer physical, but it was worse in ways. No one believed in him. No one thought that he’d amount to anything. He tried so hard to do what was expected of him, to do better than anyone in his classes, but it seemed that no one noticed. They mocked him, told him to give up. Bitter tears of frustration came to his eyes. No. He wasn’t like that. If only they gave him a chance.

He ran.

Pain.

He ran.

Bitterness.

He ran.

Sorrow.

He ran.

Disappointment.

He ran.

Regret.

He broke.

There were so many faces. So many he thought he should know, should care about, but they were gone. He watched each of them die. Some he led into battle. Some followed him though he tried to push them away.

One died trying to save him.

He fell to his knees, watching, again, as one young man, tall with straw colored hair and blue eyes, was run through with a sword. He was kicked off a stage, blood pooling around him. He knelt by the young man, tears streaking down his face.

“You shouldn’t have gone up,” he cried. “I should have stopped you.”

It began again.

There was no stopping the flood of memories of a lifetime of pain. There was no happy moment, no relief from the grief, no healing from the pain. All of it smothered him, threatening to kill his very soul under the weight of what he had lived through.

“When’s this going to end!” he screamed at the blackened sky, watching again as the young man died. He couldn’t even remember his name! “What did I do to deserve this!”

It must have been something terrible. Why else would he live such a painful life?

“Just end this!” he demanded to the uncaring sky. “Let me go!”

“You are stubborn.”

He froze. He knew that voice. He slowly turned around, trying to see. There was nothing but black around him. For a brief moment, the memories had stopped.

“Who are you?” he asked. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but it was a welcome pause in the terrible memories.

“Forgotten me already?” the voice said, his tone mocking. “I think I might be insulted. Can’t you even remember your best friend, Martin?”

Martin. That was his name.

“Luke?” he said softly.

A ghost approached him. It let off a soft blue light, wisps of it flicking off of the ghost. It was the same young man who died trying to save him. The same memory that broke him and stopped him from running on. That always started the terrible memories again.

“Luke,” Martin said, remembering.

“You’ve gotten yourself in quiet a trap, haven’t you?” the apparition asked, smugly folding his arms.

“I don’t know how to escape,” Martin said softly.

“Of course you do,” the ghost of Luke snorted. “You’re a fighter. You fight against these memories. They don’t define you.”

“How do you fight a memory?” he asked.

Luke shrugged. “It depends. Sometimes you move on, sometimes you make a choice.” He paused, looking him in the eye. “And sometimes… you let go.”

Martin knew exactly what Luke was saying. “You’re dead because of me,” he whispered.

Luke shook his head, smiling. “Don’t you remember what I told you? My death isn’t your fault. I picked my fate. I decided to face Terk. Not to protect a prince, but to protect my friend. That always came first to me, as I knew that you’d make a similar decision if our places were switched. You’re not the only one willing to sacrifice everything for someone else.”

Martin felt a lump in his throat.

Luke was right.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve just been alone for so long…”

“No, Martin,” Luke laughed. “You’ve never been alone. We’re here. All of us. And we’re waiting for you to come back.”

“We?”

Luke pointed back behind him. Martin watched amazed as other ghosts appeared. Hundreds, thousands, countless souls stood behind Luke. Some faces he recognized, many he didn’t. But he felt as if all of them cared for him. All of them sacrificed something for him.

And he for them.

“Aeterna,” he whispered.

“I’m not really dead,” Luke said, grinning. “I just joined the Spirit that keeps talking to you. I’m part of the land now, part of your magic.”

Martin had known that the Spirit had been a combination of all that made up Aeterna, but now he could see how vast, how eternal, it was.

“You’re just one part of us,” Luke went on. “And we aren’t giving up on you. Now, fight your memories. Don’t let them drag you down.”

Martin nodded slowly. “I’ll do everything I can for Aeterna,” he whispered. “It’s what I’ve always done.”

“Now that’s the Martin I know!” Luke laughed. He started to fade, along with the rest of the ghosts. “Now, take your life back! We need you.”

Martin laughed. He wasn’t sure why he did, but it felt good to let the sound out. It was a release from the pain.

“Why did you come back, Luke?” he asked, watching without pain as his friend continued to fade. “I know it’s you. There aren’t many people who can talk me out of a depression.”

Luke grinned. “I came back to help my friend. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself. Not after the sacrifice I made to protect him. Besides, how can you name a kid after me if you don’t live?”

The absurdity of that statement made both of them burst out in laughter.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Anytime, my friend. Anytime.”

Luke and the others were gone.

The memories came again, but Martin didn’t feel the pain. He didn’t feel the bitterness, the sorrow, the disappointment, the regret. Yes, he had gone through terrible things, but there was always something better to follow.

His face was stolen from him and his powers blocked.

But he knew more of the people because he had lived as they did.

He had been beaten near to death.

But he took each day of life as a gift.

He had been scorned and mocked.

But it gave him opportunity to rise.

People had died for him.

No less than what he’d do for them.

“I am Martin Santer,” he yelled at the black sky. “And you can’t control me!”

The memories froze then shattered. Light overcame the darkness and Martin finally opened his eyes.
*********
Sona talked with the duke and his wife, finding happier, less troubled topics to discuss. It was a nice break from all the dreadful talk she had to endure the last seven days. Thomas and Kriste didn’t share any condolences or words of encouragement. Instead, they talked of what they were going to do when Martin finally woke up.

“A picnic on the beach sounds wonderful,” Sona said, smiling. “But that’s going to have to wait until spring.”

“I didn’t mean now,” Kriste snorted. “The weather’s turned cold. I’d much rather do something indoors until the snow melts.”

“That’s my wife,” Thomas teased, squeezing Kriste’s hand. “She hates the cold.”

“I think,” a new voice said softly, “that it’s a rule among all women to be cold.”

Sona gasped. Spinning, she turned to the bed. Martin still lay there, but his head was turned to them, a small smile on his lips. And his hazel eyes were open.

“Martin!” she cried, throwing herself on him, hugging him tight. He weakly reached around her, hugging her back. She laughed and cried at the same time, burying her face in his neck. “You’re awake! You’re finally awake!”

“About time!” Thomas laughed, launching to his feet. “You realize just how much you’ve made an entire nation worry?”

“So?” Martin muttered, his nose in her hair. “Hum. Sona. You smell nice. But you are kinda crushing me.”

Sona laughed, letting go of him. He smiled at all of them. “How long was I out?” he asked. He didn’t even bother trying to sit up, probably knowing all three of them would force him back down again.

“About a week,” Kriste snorted, sitting down at the end of his bed. “Thomas is right. You made an entire nation worry.”

“Even you?” Martin asked softly.

“Yes,” she scoffed. “Even me. You’re my friend, too, Martin.”

The prince smiled. “Oh, good,” he sighed. “Now I don’t have to worry about being slapped.”

The absurdity of that statement made them all laugh.
**********
Ahh! Martin’s made it! Next week is the last post. Done. Finished. What has been your favorite moment? Which characters did you like? Didn’t like? Anything come up and surprise you? Others where you felt smug, knowing something the characters didn’t? Or are you just happy that after three years, we’ve finally finished the story? But whatever you did take from this, I hope you enjoyed it.

Until next week. Enjoy the journey!