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lillottethegothcowboy · 2 years ago

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So, I'm not sure I can really explain what led me to write this, let alone post it. I'm like 88 percent certain this is something God wanted me to do judging by the fact I almost never post this kind of stuff

But my uncle once told me that every piece of writing has a specific audience, and it won't affect those that aren't part of it. I hope that I manage to find that audience

I'm gonna tag some people who've expressed interest in my original writing before. The full story is beneath the cut, and is a little over 2,000 words. TW for mentions of war and death

@accidental-spice @heckin-music-dork @laughingphoenixleader @silverpaintedstars @taleweaver-ramblings @authorofemotion @headingtowardsimplicity @sifuprincesscarry

The night was cold and crisp, a million stars glittering above the camp. It was late, but the residents of the camp weren't asleep.

For this was no ordinary group. They were warriors, brave and strong, fighting under the service of their King against the Enemy who had taken captive the people of their country. And they had been summoned by their leader, the Prince, to an urgent war meeting.

Among those leading the way to the tent was one of the captains. He'd been in this army for years, fighting alongside his men and his Prince, and knew them all well. So he also knew that this kind of meeting was unusual, to say the least.

At his side was one of the younger warriors, who'd only joined them a few months back. The captain had taken him under his wing, as he had many before him, and even now kept an eye on the young man.

"What do you think is going on?" the young man whispered to him as they reached the tent.

"I'm not sure," the captain admitted. This wasn't something the Prince had done before, and he felt a flicker of unease in his chest. He just returned from a visit to the King, he reminded himself. It must have something to do with that. Pushing it aside, he added, "But I have a feeling the Prince will tell us soon enough."

They stepped into the tent, which held only a large table that was usually covered in maps and notes for strategy. Tonight, it was empty save for one map, and the captain frowned at it. First the unusual meeting hour, now this, he thought as the others filed into the tent behind him. Something's up. Something important.

As the last man moved into place, the tent flap opened one last time, and their leader stepped inside– the Prince. The captain sensed a slight ripple going through the men as they stood at attention, and he did the same.

They always did for the Prince, although it wasn't something he demanded– far from it. There was something about their leader that commanded respect, loyalty, but more than just that. He was the kind of leader that any self-respecting man would be proud to serve under. The kind of leader that not only would any man in the crowd lay his life down for in a second, but they knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would do the same.

"At ease," the Prince told them, his low voice calm but commanding. The men relaxed, and the Prince moved up to the table, resting his hands on the surface. He gazed at the map for a second, his expression solemn, and the captain's frown deepened. What's going on?

"Captains, step forward," the Prince ordered, and the captain moved from amongst the crowd to stand at the table. Three or four others joined him, all of whom he recognized– he'd fought alongside them at all one time or another, and knew them well enough. He exchanged a quick glance with them as the Prince began to speak.

"As you know, I've been to visit the King," he told them. "And I'm back with a plan, one that will strike a decisive blow to the heart of our Enemy, and ultimately decide the fate of the war."

The captain's eyes widened, and he heard gasps of surprise and murmurs around the tent. "That's incredible news, sir," one of his fellow captains said, his eyes bright with excitement– although whether it was for the end of the war, or the upcoming battle, the captain wasn't quite sure. "What kind of plan is it? Will we trap them somewhere? Is it a head on attack, or maybe a siege?"

"It's none of those," the Prince told him with a slight smile. "It's not any kind of battle that we've fought before."

"Oh," the other captain said, looking slightly disappointed. Recovering quickly, he asked, "Then what kind is it, sir?"

"It's a deep cover operation," the Prince replied. "One man will go behind enemy lines. He will be disguised so that the Enemy will be unable to touch him, but it will still be dangerous. And he won't be back for many years."

"Are you looking for volunteers, sir?" the captain asked slowly. He could already sense his young protege a few feet back, bristling with excitement at the thought of volunteering, and couldn't pretend his heart didn't sink at the idea.

But it already didn't feel right– and sure enough, the Prince shook his head. "No," he said, his gaze calm, but sad as he spoke. "I'm here to say goodbye."

The captain felt his heart nearly stop. It took the crowd a few minutes to put together what the Prince had said, but when they did, the tent exploded with protests.

"Sir, you can't–"

"It's too dangerous–"

"We can't lose you–”

And most overwhelmingly of all, "Sir, let me–"

The Prince held up a hand, and silence fell almost instantly. "I have never asked more of my men than I was willing to do myself," he said firmly. "And I am the one who must do this."

"One of us could come with you," the captain suggested, his shock melting into fear and a fragile hope that he could protect his commander. But the Prince shook his head.

"I would be honored to have any one of you by my side. But this must be done alone, and it must be me. This is the only way to protect my people, and to fully destroy the Enemy's hold on them." Turning to address the entire tent, the Prince said, "If this mission succeeds, the people of the world will finally have a choice."

"A choice between what?" one of the men asked.

"Between continuing to live under the law of the Enemy, or accepting the love and forgiveness of the King and coming to live with and for him."

"Who wouldn't choose to live under the King?" the captain's protege asked, his voice confused.

The Prince gave him a sad smile. "That is an excellent question, my friend. Not everyone agrees with my Father's rules, or His way of life. Some people have been hurt by those claiming to serve me and my Father. But no matter what they believe, we cannot force them to make the choice to follow Him. It has to be theirs. But by taking this mission, I'm granting them that choice– or at least making it easier."

"What does the King think of this plan?" the captain asked– and realized the answer seconds before the Prince spoke.

"It was His plan," he replied quietly.

The tent was stunned to silence for a moment, then one of the men spoke. "He's going to send His own son on a mission that could get him killed?"

The captain flashed the man a scolding look, and the man lowered his head. "Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to–"

"It's alright," the Prince said, directing the words both to the captain and the man. Addressing the latter, he said, "My Father and I have agreed that this is what needs to be done. We both know the consequences– but saving our people is worth it." A small smile crossed his face, and he added, "They're His children, too, you know. Which means they're my family, and I would fight and die for any of them. Just as I would for you."

A silence came over the tent at the Prince's words. They all knew their commander well enough to know he would never lie to them. And they could never prevent their leader from fighting for those who needed him. It's his nature, the captain thought with a pang.

"Then if it's your will, and the King's will, we'll follow it," he said quietly.

"Thank you, my friend," the Prince said, resting a hand on his shoulder, and the captain felt himself stand a little taller under it.

"We'll miss you, sir," one of the younger soldiers blurted out, and the captain saw a smile flash across the Prince's face.

"And I'll miss you. All of you. But you must continue fighting without me. Protect those you can, and follow the King's will. It will be a long time before we see each other again, and I won't look the same when we do."

"How will we know it's you, then, sir?" the captain's protege asked.

"That's a good question," the Prince said, giving him a nod of approval, and the young man glowed under his praise. "You'll know it's me because I'll be where I always am, and that's with those who need me. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," he said earnestly, and the Prince smiled.

"Good."

"Can you give us any other details, sir?" the captain said hopefully. "Even if we can't come, there must be some way we can help."

The Prince shook his head regretfully, and the captain's heart fell. "The best thing you can do is carry on the fight for me. But I can tell you this much– my disguise won't be what most would expect, especially the Enemy. And my arrival will be far from conventional."

"It never is, sir," one of the men said. A ripple of laughter fluttered through the tent, and the Prince laughed with them, his laughter bright.

"I suppose it isn't." His smile faded away, and he studied them seriously. "Remember everything I've taught you. Follow the King's commands above all, and take care of each other until I return."

Recognizing their dismissal, the men let out a murmur of assent and started making their way out of the tent, stopping to bid the Prince farewell as they went. He had time for each of them, be it a quiet word or a smile or a hand on the shoulder, and every man moved with a lighter step for it.

The captain was one of the last few to leave, and he stopped in front of the Prince, trying to figure out what it was he wanted to ask. He felt the Prince studying him, his gaze full of kindness. "You're concerned," he said quietly.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir– I don't mean to doubt you or the King's plans. It's just, well–"

"It's not in your nature to let someone else take the risks," the Prince finished.

"Yes, sir," the captain said. "And we want you to be safe– none of us want to lose you, sir."

The Prince rested a hand on the captain's shoulder. "I know. And I know you're worried about what might happen. But you have to trust me, and trust the King. If He has planned this, it will be so. The people of the world need me, and sometimes, the greatest strength is to let someone else be strong for you. That's something you need to learn as well, and to trust in my Father's plan."

"It's– not always so easy for me, sir," the captain confessed, feeling shame burn through him.

The look the Prince gave him was so understanding that the captain felt tears nearly start in his eyes. "I know. I know you well, remember? But ask, and you will receive."

"Thank you, sir," the captain managed hoarsely. He started to move forward, then paused. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I– well, some of the people out there– they won't welcome you," the captain said. "Especially if they know who you are."

"Oh, I know. I'm counting on it." Smiling at the captain's confused expression, the Prince said, "Sometimes, to help people, you need to make a little trouble first. Trust the King's plan, remember?"

"Yes, sir," the captain replied. "Our prayers will be with you."

"That's appreciated," the Prince said warmly, and the captain nodded his farewell before he stepped out of the tent, feeling, if not happy, then at least a little more at peace.

His young companion was waiting for him, bursting with curiosity. "Where do you think he's going?" he asked as they headed down the road. "And what do you think his plan is?"

Shaking his head slowly, the captain said, "I don't know." Glancing back at the tent, he added, "But whatever it is, it'll be good. Something the Enemy could never see coming."

Thousands of miles away, across the country, a young woman was given news that would change her life and millions of others as a plan to save the world was set into action.

No one could ever have expected what came next.

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