The boy with the star shaped charm

Prologue I: Calling

For the umpteenth time I sighed and asked myself what I was thinking when I'd signed up for the musketeers. Sitting up in my bed at the crack of dawn I let out a huff of air, and then I willed myself to get out of bed and grabbed my stuff.

It consisted of the standard uniform; a rapier and a pair of boots to complete the attire. The cold air hit my face as soon as I left the safe warmth of the barracks, gone were any remaining dregs of sleep I felt.

A slight smirk came to my lips, if you told anyone in my old hometown that Sora would one day be waking up at the crack of dawn they'd probably laugh in your face and then have you carted off to the Looney bin.

A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I made sure I'd made sure to pin the fluer de lis in place. It wouldn't do to not wear the symbol of the musketeers, lest the captain have my hide. He took his job to seriously, heck he took everything too seriously. Rumor around the platoon was that life at home wasn't to kind too him.

I was of mind that he wasn't too kind too life at home. After a moment I let go of the thoughts about the captain, frankly it wasn't any of my business what went on in his personal life even if it made my life a bit difficult.

I didn't plan on spending the rest of my life in the musketeers anyways. I would get out one day and join the king's guard; I would go to where Riku and Kairi were. I would be reunited with my friends, I'd promised them after all.

I made my way to the musketeer corps training center, better known as the training yard to us mere soldiers. It was where men were forged in the fires of combat, or so the captain liked to say. He had a way about things, certain flair one could say.

Reaching the training yard I couldn't help but let out a thankful breath. I was on time; the last thing I wanted was to do extra laps around the yard while being chased by the captain's pets. They were scary and I was lazy, not the best of combinations.

I stood with the others forming neat rows, looking around I saw some trying to shine their shoes with the back of their pants while others made sure their crest was in place, the absence of either was a punishable infraction. The absence of both, well I'd heard horror stories that I'd not rather bring to mind at the moment.

I let my mind wander as we all waited for the captain to greet us with his magnanimous self, note the sarcasm if you will. The training yard was aptly named; a large yard encamped with halls that held training equipment and few emergency barracks. Stairs were right next to the halls in the open, they lead up to a second floor which acted as the captain's quarters. The training yard led off to three different areas.

There was the Tower, inaccessible thanks to the bridge leading to it having collapsed. Then there was the shore, where I liked to go on my off days, the sand and the waves reminded me of home. In the distance one could make out the outline of a big city, it was said to have been there for a very long time, Mont-Saint Michel. A boat could get you there but it was forbidden and nobody was keen enough to try their luck against the captain or the rumors of ghostly wanderings throughout the city.

Finally there was the opera, which was only for the higher ranked officers and only when they were entertaining royalty. That suited me just fine, it seemed like a stuffy activity and I absolutely abhorred starched collars.

I was pulled out of my reverie when the beagle sounded the arrival of our dear captain. He strode forward with all the arrogance and superiority a king might have had but grace and dignity were decidedly absent.

Captain Pete or that piddling pile of pudge Pete as some in the platoon referred to him was looking as bulbous as ever. How he became captain is a mystery to all of us.