Familiar

Quick Content Warning: Slight mentions of racial violence (based on a fictional race, but still)

I do not often question my visions. I have learned, in my years of dreams and destiny, that they always tie into something. Some fortunate or unfortunate experience, some weird encounter. They’ve led me to the greatest of riches yet also the darkest of moments. But this one confuses me. This kid confuses me. 

Having seen the tavern in a dream one night, I figured my next fateful event would happen within its walls. I did not expect it to be a young Okean girl, skittish and angry, with familiar gray eyes that challenged everything she looked upon. Yet I knew. I knew my reason for being there concerned her.

Kaia marched onto The Sea’s Deceit begrudgingly and resigned herself to living amongst the crew, but every glance she cast in my direction clawed at me. It was familiar, too. Yet no matter how long I sat and thought about her, I could not place the lingering prickle at the back of my mind. What was I missing?

She claimed that she searched for her father, adventuring out from her island to seek answers. Leaving, however, brought her many problems. Thrown off a ship for not only being an Okean, but also because she was a woman. Left to limp into the tavern in a tattered dress, to receive glares for the color of her skin. Islanders—Okeans—weren’t welcome in too many places. 

Nonetheless, she faced those prejudices with a steady gaze. 

Initially, she hated that I pushed her onto this ship, seeing it as a way of entrapping her. Now, I notice, she seems more intent to keep to the ship. Docking at ports, she only gets off to help load supplies. As if it serves as some safe haven from the biting words of the Mainlanders, who viciously stole away so many of their islands. 

I wonder if she wishes that she had stayed home. 

She stands next to me, leaning over the railing and studying the trail The Deceit leaves behind in the water. Curly brown hair, tied back into a bun, whips in strands around her face. Her eyes don’t leave the water, but her mouth moves to form a question. 

“How long have you been sailing?” 

I chuckle, leaning alongside her. “Since I was younger than you, kid. If you’re asking how long I’ve been a pirate, I would say since I was 19. It’s when The Deceit made her debut. Before that, I spent much of my time sailing with other crews, doing miscellaneous jobs. I met many different types of people.”

A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

“How many Okeans have you met?” She asks.

It doesn’t surprise me so much as it makes me pause. Kaia turns her head in my direction, expression curious. It’s natural for her to question it; we’ve been at odds about my view of Okeans for the last month. She’s defensive of her people, and I have yet to convince her that I see her the same way as any other.

Kaia’s face is familiar, I realize. Her eyes, her nose, even her hair. I furrow my eyebrows at her, and she tilts her head. For a long moment, I don’t say a word. A faint memory sparks in my mind.

“I hope you live knowing you’ve sent innocent people to forced servitude for the rest of their lives. Look me in the eyes. Remember my face, and know what you’ve done.”

The boy couldn’t be older than me, but his expression made me want to hide away. Stormy gray eyes, pretty to look at, turned sour as he glared at me, eyebrows furrowed. His mouth formed a thin line, and his nose wrinkled with disgust.

I took a step closer to the bars between us, meeting his gaze. A brown set of fingers wrapped around those bars, and he gripped them hard enough that I saw his knuckles go white and his arms tremble. 

“Do you see me?”

My eyes ran over the round face, bruised from the Captain’s strike yesterday. His curly hair fell messily around that face, brushing his shoulders. Even his clothes were full of tears and dirt. I recalled with a twinge in my chest the time he had been thrown to the ground. They beat him. They dragged him all the way to the ship. They threw him in the cell and left him there. 

It was dirty and dark, the wooden interior of the lower deck illuminated by a couple of hanging lanterns. The air seemed thick, dusty, and full of something I could not place. An emotion. A feeling. An atmosphere.

“Punishment,” the Captain claimed as they dragged him there. “He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, so he will learn to understand obedience. Time on the Mainland will teach him.” 

But he wasn’t the only one.

I flitted my eyes over the group of men and women behind him. Some of them leaned against the wall, others sat on the floor. A couple rested their heads against each other, eyes closed and mouths moving. As if they were praying. As if they were accepting defeat. Another pang struck my chest.

Some of them had been in the way. Others had come to the boy’s defense. One had simply made a quiet comment about one of the crew members’ shoes. It was enough. Eight other people. Eight other people shoved into the large cell, heading toward a place that would not treat them any better. Eight people who had defeat in their eyes.

This boy did not have that same defeat on his face. His eyes, angry, gleamed with intent, and although he looked so rough, although they had hurt him, they had not managed to beat his pride. His person. His spirit. 

“Do you see me?” He repeated, unblinking.

I met his gaze again. It saw straight into me, cold, consistent, calm. He searched for something in me. I could not tell what. Emotions? Guilt? Fear?

Humanity.

I drew my fingers around the same bars as his, towering over him. I tilted my head down, leveling our gazes. Equal. I was not above him. I refused to be above him. Captain’s orders or not. 

“I see you.”

He blinked.

“Captain?” Kaia’s voice snaps me to the present.

Those same gray eyes peer curiously at me. I’m at a loss for words as I realize who she is. His. Now I know why we met. All at once, I understand why I’ve been led to her. She’s a remnant of my decision. A token of my past, 21 years ago, when I chose. Between orders and duty. 

I chose humanity.

I will never forget the smile on his face. The tightness of his hug when we spoke our farewells. The wave he gave as he and his eight others stepped back onto their island from the ship we seized. The sound of his voice, bittersweet but full of hope.

“May Fate bring us back together again, Hawethorne. One way or another.”

One way or another.

I open my mouth and answer a question with a question.

“What is your father’s name?”

Kaia blinks, so familiar. “Makani.”

My breath hitches. Makani. The boy. The prisoner. The Okean. The defier.

It seems we have indeed met again.