Chapter Text
NPOV
I don't remember much about him except for the sun-gold curls on top of his head, which were very easy to pull when we got into a fight. I remember his scream. I remember my own hot tears mixing with the blood on my chin.
I remember that no one could help me.
It happened every even-numbered year in Honnet City. It happened on every even numbered year around the Pirate Territories, actually. That meant that while sometimes my home city was attacked, other times it was a city in the northern hemisphere or in Silver Bay. There were eleven cities total that the pirates stole and kidnapped from, and Honnet was one of them. Two of the eleven were in the Channel of Song, which is Siren territory, so the pirates only kidnapped one kid each from those two cities, but the other nine have to keep their people securely locked up and armed every even-numbered year.
I was kidnapped eighteen years ago. I doubt the golden-haired boy even remembers me anymore. We were four, basically still infants. But I associate his golden curls with warmth on the beach and mouth-watering fish in the markets. We had been best friends. That's what Bianca always said. The sun-boy and I were best friends, inseparable. Sometimes me or him would wander to the other's home without warning, and our parents got used to having to go visit the other home to go pick us up in the middle of the night.
Which is why when I didn't come home that day, I would imagine the first place they checked was sun-boy's house. I've imagined how they reacted a million times when they found out that Bianca and I had been the victims. Did Dad cry? I don't know if Dad cried in general; I barely remember what he looks like, either. Sometimes I worry I've imagined what he looks like so often that he's turned into what I picture he looked like, not like what he actually did. Like I made it up as I forgot.
It's been eighteen years since I've seen the golden-haired boy.
I hope it's been eighteen years since he's seen me.
As the sun set over the horizon, I smiled to myself and let the wind play gently with my hair. Welcome to the Argo II.