Anchor Char . D1 . CBD #2 . FIN

"Brother?"

"Yes?"

"Why is the world round?"

"I don't know."

"That helps so much, Ransom."

"I know."

"Okay, let's try again."

"Okay."

"Does Dad love us like Mom did?" 

"I don't know."

"Again? Is that the only thing you know how to say?"

"I don't know."

"Ha. How funny. Honestly, though.."

"Mmhm?"

"Aren't parents supposed to treat you nicely?"

"I think so. That's how Mom was, at least."

"Maybe Dad's just sick then."

"Or sad."

"Yeah, maybe he's just sad."

"But it's been four years, hasn't it?"

"That's true. We were only fourteen at the time."

"So shouldn't he have gotten better by now?"

"I guess so."

"But he hasn't."

"Well.. I-"

"Listen. It's clear that something is wrong with him."

"I s.. suppose."

"So why is it our duty to take care of him?"

"It.. it isn't. Especially when he treats us like the nasty district twelves."

"Exactly. We should fight back, give him the thing that he wants the most."

"And what is that?"

"Well, Anchor. I'm glad you asked."


"The very thing that he craves, the very thing that he vies for on a daily.."


"Well that.. that's.."


"Closure."

"And we're going to give it to him."

And for the first time in years, I felt sure of myself. In the innocence of his embrace, and the ash blonde that fell deeply over our faces, I felt wholly, truthfully, sure of myself. And Dad nor the untimely death of our mother would get in the way of Anchor and I being happy, whether we died trying or not. After all, this was our kingdom, not their's, and no matter how many times we had to steal our crowns back, somehow, someway, we would end up as kings in the end.

Or well- at least one of us would.