SARAH

            The pile of arrows was getting larger with each one she fletched.  It must contain at least fifty of them by now.  There might be at least seventy of them, had she worked as fast as Mauville’s weapon makers.  Sarah didn’t work fast, she worked carefully and correctly.  Each arrow was an extension of herself.  The shaft must be without splinter, the feathers perfect, and the arrowhead sharp enough to shave a man’s face with. 

            Today was the second day since the Swellow had returned from Slateport.  The first day and night Sarah Spark had spent with Manectric along the northern wall of Mauville, looking out towards where she knew the Mt. Chimney kingdom’s borders began many leagues past the horizon. 

            Thankfully, she saw no campfires creeping their way like a great glacier.  It was well known that the Brightfires and their armies used fire to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies.  Sarah remembered the news before her father left for Rustboro to repel the invaders.

            “Five thousand campfires,” she told Manectric again and again, arrow after arrow.  “And yet I only have seventy one arrows.”  Number seventy one was carefully placed on the pile to her right, arrow pointing out towards the horizon.  She reached to pick up the stick, crude arrowhead, and feathers for number seventy two.

 Her Spirit Pokémon sat patiently as ever.  It was a good thing too, because Sarah hated waiting like some helpless girl.  Had Manectric not convinced her to wait in Mauville she might have chased after her father, King Marcus. 

            It was her mother, sweet Alice Flowers, her hair once a rich blonde now faded to pale gold, who interrupted her rhythm.

            “Must you keep your brave Prince awaiting my dear?” she asked.

            It was good that Sarah was facing outwards on the outer wall of the city, away from her mother’s face, lest she see her daughter roll her eyes. 

            “I heard he has been having a grand time walking the streets and entertaining the men and women of father’s court,” she replied.  He’s not my Prince, and if he was brave he would be joining the rest of the men he commanded to fight for him.  Who knows whose Prince he is right now? Might be some girl he and his friends met in some tavern.

            “It was a Kingly thing Chris Marsh did.  Doubtless your father will welcome all the Slateport swords and spears that arrive to aide him,” her mother was babbling again, lost in the sound of her own voice. “The swiftness of his support is sure to be a sign of how he honors the alliance between the two kingdoms, of how he wants you as his bride.”

            Sarah hated it when her mother talked of such things.  Even before they had set out for Slateport, she was obsessed with the marriage.  She tried her best to tune her out, to smooth away the wooden flakes from the latest arrow shaft she held, but it was no use.

            “Fine, mother, if you wish me to speak with Chris Marsh, I will go find him myself.”  That had shut her up, but Sarah scowled because it meant that her mother had won.  The Princess of Mauville hated losing.

            She found Chris and his Marshtomp in the great hall of the Spark’s palace, curiously absent of his two friends.  He was attended by the head of the Palace Guards, and her father’s steward.  They were studying a map of Hoenn, planning battle strategy most like.  He should be there in person, with my father if he truly wants to lend his help.

            “My lady,” bowed Jeffery, head of the Palace Guard.  “I didn’t hear you enter.”

            The other two looked up, and yet Sarah was still surprised at the piercing gaze of Prince Chris.  She felt her heart skip a beat, but all she had to do was talk like her mother wanted and be done with it. 

            “I’ve had enough talk of the rolling hills north of Rustboro today,” Chris told her father’s men.  “If you wouldn’t mind giving me and my lady a private word?”

            Sarah felt herself glare uncertainly at the smiling Prince and all of his shiny white teeth.  “There was no need to dismiss them,” she told him as she pulled up a chair.  “I am well versed in battle strategy.”

            “And archery let’s not forget,” he glanced down at Marshtomp who’s eyes hadn’t left the map.  “Marshtomp, say hello to Manectric.”

            The Sprit Pokemon’s eyes darted up and Marshtomp let out a grunt.  Manectric padded over beside it and Marshtomp must have been informing to her Pokémon on all that it had learned during the discussion she had walked in on. 

            She wanted to get this little meeting over with as soon as possible.  She expected some small talk, but the absence of his small entourage of friends made her curious. “Where are your friends today? I thought they would be with you.”

            Chris Marsh looked shock that she would even ask.  “Chasing girls of course,” he laughed as he stole a quick glance back at the map, as if he was still contemplating strategy.  It was as if Sarah’s presence was of no greater importance to him. 

I’m not so easy as to fall for the hard to get game.  “Chasing girls all the time? Is that what you three do back home in Slateport?  How must you keep track of all of them?”  She aimed to find out if this Prince was indeed a womanizer.

“I’ve lost count with Ryan because he always succeeds,” the Prince said, “but Hector has been rejected by exactly thirty women.  It’s more fun to count with Hector.”  Marshtomp heard that and laughed and clapped its arms together in approval.  “Are you done making arrows?”

Sarah was shocked he had asked.  How could he have known?  She had spent half the day making arrows, yet she was sure no one was with her save Manectric.  Of course, she wasn’t really watching for others.  “No, I have at least four thousand, twenty-eight and a half left to finish if the reports from Rustboro are accurate.  How did you know I was making arrows?”

“I watched you make the first ten,” Chris said, the smile still on his face.  “Marshtomp and I take walks along the wall every morning.  You’ve got some skill, were you born a man we might have been best of friends.  Are you planning on joining the battle?  My uncle and Slateport’s army should be arriving any day, you’d best hurry up.”

Sarah scoffed and sat back in her chair.  This one’s mouth…

“I would had my father and mother not condemned it,” she said.  Her bow could be well used in the battle, Sarah knew for sure in her heart.  “Had I went, my father would have put me in a prison, to be watched day and night while the fighting happens as far away from me as possible.  Tell me, Prince, what cage would you prefer? A hundred square feet or the place you were born in.”

Chris Marsh’s smile got bigger and his beautiful eyes twinkled in appreciation.  “Well said.” 

Sarah took the chance to go on the offensive now.  “Why didn’t you go?  And how were you able to muster the forces so quickly?  You must have quite the sway back home.”

The Prince of Slateport didn’t even flinch.  Just like Sarah’s mother he must have loved the sound of his own voice.  “I told them that Marshtomp evolved.  The law of Slateport says that the oldest Marsh in the line of succession who’s Spirit Pokémon is fully evolved is to be King,” he laughed.  The blue Mud Fish Pokémon let out what must be a giggle.  “As to your other question, I know the men would be better served following my uncle Apollo into battle.  I would follow the man off of a cliff, myself.”

Sarah pressed on, she had to get the correct judge on his character.  “My father leads his own men into battle.”

She expected him to be taken aback, but Chris seemed to be relishing the conversation the longer she fought back.  “There is nothing I would like more than winning my own glory and getting out of my father’s shadow.” Sarah could tell this was the serious side of him.  His pride was his weakness, she knew now.  The Prince continued.  “I do feel for the men that may die at my command, and if I am the one to order them to fight, you’re right in suggesting that I must be there.

“Regardless if I lead those two thousand men or not, those two thousand men are going to go into battle.  They will fight no matter what.  I can’t just leave here and rush into battle for two good reasons.”

Sarah had her arms crossed, but she was listening.  “Well?”

“Ryan and Hector.  Well, mainly Hector.”

“You send hundreds to their deaths in battle, yet you hide behind my father’s walls and your friends as an excuse?”

The first look of frustration hinted in Chris Marsh’s eye.  Sarah knew from experience when her adversary was frustrated, she had them beat.  However, his voice was still calm.

“Maybe I should call back my two thousand men,” he said.  There was an awkward pause.  Surely he wouldn’t call back an army that was on the midst of the battlefield?  Yet, this young man was unpredictable, she knew, and full of surprises. “But I won’t, because I value friendship.  I know that if Sootopolis were to invade the Slateport Kingdom, your father would rush to my aid, to defend the weak and innocent of my kingdom.  My father once told me that was the King’s primary responsibility.”

He banged his fist on the table.  This Prince was charismatic and smart, and for the first time, well maybe the second, Sarah Spark felt the slightest attraction for him. 

            “Those two thousand men are ready to fight, and die if need be, to defend the weak and innocent,” the Prince went on.  Sarah was glad he did, she was seeing a whole other side of him  If I go into battle like I want to do, to earn my selfish glory, there’s no doubt Hector will follow me.  Now I may not be a veteran of any battles, but I know enough to know that a fisherman’s son with no combat experience is likely to be an early casualty.  Even if there is only one who is weak or innocent, no matter their birth in life, they deserve to be protected.  Believe me, the choice to hide in your cage was hard for me as well.”

            Sarah was left speechless.  She realized she was wrong about Prince Chris Marsh from the start.  There was nothing behind a hidden curtain with him.  What you saw was what you got: a charming, smart, passionate boy.  No, he is truly a man.  It was at that moment that Sarah Spark made up her mind. 

            She silently got up from the table in the hall, and gestured for Manectric to follow.  Chris Marsh stood up and bowed to her as she took her leave. 

            As soon as she exited the great hall to continue making her arrows, she turned to her right and her mother was standing there as Sarah knew she would. 

            “Well?” her mother asked.  “How is he?  What did you speak about?”

            As if you don’t already know, or will find out on your own. “Write to father, tell him I accept the betrothal to Prince Chris.”  Was it love? No, surely it couldn’t be, not yet at least.  Chris intrigued her now more than ever.  He was able to turn the tide of their small debate right back at her, and she valued that more than anything.  Love, not yet. Sarah Spark genuinely respected Prince Chris.  His wit, his logic, his devotion, his cockiness, his skill with the spear…

            She could picture the look on her mother’s face as she and Manectric started the short walk back to her pile of arrows.  All of the things she had just seen in Prince Marsh made her smile, the intangible, honorable things.  And possibly his muscles, smile, and those eyes too.  She knew down in the city with Mauville’s citizens they would call it a crush.