"You know, as fun as it sounds, I don't think throwing a birthday party that will simultaneously be a memorial service is exactly the right message we want to send to the country."

    Their footsteps raced against the marble floors as they left the conference room and headed towards the living quarters. The synchronous click of their heels was the only sound that reached Koen's ears as he tried to keep his increasingly resentful feelings at bay.

    He tried to relax his hands at his sides, as they were subconsciously balled into fists. He tried to settle his breathing, as he realized his face was growing hot and most likely red with anger. Finally, he tried to slow his steps, but try as he might, he just couldn't slow down. He had to get back to his room. Had to find another way, make another plan.

    The guard to his right, struggling to keep up with the young boy's pace, hummed in thought, "and may I ask, your Highness, what message is that sending, exactly?"

    "That we've stopped searching! We've given up!" Koen threw his hands in front of him before slamming them back at his sides again, "I've been leading this search party for five years! Dedicated the last five years worth of any free time I've had to this, and we're just going to stop? And, nonetheless, tell me happy birthday on the same day we announce this news to the rest of the country?" He lowered his voice to slightly above a whisper as he spoke, as he realized how loud he'd been speaking. The passing staff was starting to stare.

    He exhaled with a shake of his head, "No. No, we're not done. I'm not done."

    "With all due respect, Koen, we have already called back the search team. They will receive new orders from your father, and there's not much you can do after that."

The man glanced sideways at the prince as they rounded the corner and slowed to a stop at his bedroom door. Koen did not meet the guard's eyes, furious that he did not offer to help or even agree with what he was saying. Instead, he insisted that this was the right thing to do. That it was completely understandable to go back on anything they've ever done to try and find his brother. All these years of putting his trust in Alden to lead his men and find his brother. Years worth of progress destroyed, and he didn't seem to mind. His childhood guard and most trusted confidant was turning against him.

It's time to let this go, his father had said, and Alden had nodded.

"Fine. I'll do it myself," he realized his fists had been clenched again. A sign of weakness and fear, his father had always told him. He relaxed his shoulders, hands, and jaw, finally setting his gaze into the eyes of the man before him, "and if you're not going to assist me, I suggest you get ready for your men to return and await your next act of duty." His voice was stern and spotted with anger, but rang with clarity as it bounced off the stone walls of the palace.

He pushed open the doors to his bedroom and let them slam shut behind him. The guard had begun to say something before they shut, but he didn't care to listen. It was clear whose side Alden was on now, and it was clear he was now doing this alone.

He let out a groan of frustration. Taking off his coat and throwing it onto the bed, his eyes closed tightly for just a moment, fighting off any emotions storming and crowding his thoughts. Opening them once more, he started across his room toward his desk. Instead of heels clicking against marble, they hastily glided upon emerald green carpet.

Leaning over the mahogany table, he pressed his finger tips on the edge, allowing the cool surface to work through the heat of his anger. He scanned over the papers sprawled across his desk. These were documents of possible sightings of him, new leads, dead ends that he never threw out, just in case, and old suspect interrogations. The stack of papers that presented possible leads had grown in the past few weeks, telling of the recent progress they had made. The progress that would soon mean nothing.

He lifted his eyes from his desk to the collage of pictures above it. Some were framed, some simply taped sporadically to the bedroom wall. They were old pictures of him and his missing twin, Thane. Every time he looked at them he couldn't help but smile at their messy clothes from playing out in the rain, bloody noses and black eyes after a faux wrestling match, and, his personal favorite, the halloween costumes they had made together. One photo showed two little boys, around five years old, with shiny silver knight costumes, holding swords high in the air and mounted on their homemade broom-horses.

Right in the middle was a photo of just one of the boys, about twelve years old with dark hair perfectly styled under his crown. This was the last photo taken of his brother before he disappeared. He had been sitting in on a press conference with his father, and looked rather unamused with whatever they were talking about. This was no surprise, though, as Thane was never one to get excited about any of his royal duties. He always looked at it as a type of chore or painstaking task to check off a to-do list before he got to have some real fun later in the day.

Koen chuckled at the thought of his brother as his eyes studied the photo. That was where the two brothers could not have been more different. Koen loved the idea of protecting his families land, making trade deals and ally agreements with other countries. Everything about being king excited him, and ever since he was destined for the throne after the disappearance of his brother, he took the responsibility very seriously. Becoming a great king was the most important thing to him. Well, second most, after finding his brother.

He continued to look at the boy in the picture, a hodge podge of emotions churning inside him. Feelings of nostalgia, grief, confusion, longing, and, most importantly, hope. They all fought to overtake his mind and plan his next move. How would his brother be now if he had still been here? Would he have grown out of his disliking of the throne and assumed his responsibility as the future king? Would their relationship be the same as it was, or would their differences come between them and push them apart? What would he look like now?

He wondered where he was and what he was doing. Was he alone scavenging for food in an abandoned alleyway? Did he live in a quaint white house with a big yard, a beautiful wife, and a few kids who all knew nothing of his true identity? Was he a single and wealthy businessman going about his day with a completely different name? Or was he...

No. No he would not be dead. Could not be dead. Thane proved to be too resilient and strong at such a young age. There's no way he was just kidnapped and brought to his death. He would have put up a fight. Would have snuck away silently and stealthily. Or maybe, Koen always wondered, maybe he had left on his own. After all, he'd clearly shown no interest in becoming king. Maybe leaving was his only way to escape this fate?

But why hadn't he told him first? Why hadn't he let him in on his great escape plan and told him he would be okay? That way he would know where he was, what he was doing. Maybe this way they could have some form of communication, and, in a way, still grow up together. Maybe he could have visited him. Visit him where, though? These thoughts always led him to the same question. He peered into the eyes of the boy in the photo and spoke aloud, as he sometimes did by himself, as if his brother could hear him.

"Where are you?" He kept his voice low, "That's all I want to know. Please, I just want to know what you're doing, if you're okay."

Almost as soon as he said it, he felt a pang in his chest for how stupid he must look to everyone else. To his father, Alden, the search team. His brother had been gone for almost five years. There had been no true sign of him since the age of twelve. What could a twelve year old possibly have done to defend himself on his own? Even with their combat training, which he hadn't had but two years of at that point, anyone who had gotten their hands on a prince would have reinforcements to handle any retaliation.

With a sigh, he turned away from his desk and headed to his bed, knowing he would be scolded for sleeping in his suit but having no energy to change. He let himself sink far into the mattress and covered himself with his comforter, as if he could hide from the countless ways he felt in that moment. As if blacking out his sight would do the same for his thoughts.

"If I could just, somehow, see what you were doing. I wouldn't go looking anymore, I swear," he spoke into the silent air around him before forcing his eyes shut and drifting off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Koen woke to the sound of rain outside his windows and a cool draft on his face. With his eyes still closed he felt around for the comforter, only to find that the sheets he was laying on weren't his, but were worn down and bore holes every few inches. Come to think of it, even the mattress did not feel like his own.

He jolted into a sitting position, eyes wide open and glancing around frantically. He first saw the state of the bed he had just woken up in. Well, it was more of a cot. The mattress was only a few inches thick and draped with what looked like large scraps of cloth.

"What the....?"

His attention was then drawn to his clothing, also damaged and dirty. Black pants that were frayed on the ends, a thin brown shirt that he was pretty sure used to be white, and a leather belt around his waist that carried a sword.

A sword? Why on earth did he have a sword?
Wait. Nevermind that.
Why on earth was he here? Wherever here was.
And what on earth was he wearing?
This must be a dream.

He was snatched away from his thoughts as the door to the room swung open, "Captain. We are only a few miles from our target, do we have your go to begin docking preparations?"

Koen could only stare at the man in the doorway. He'd never seen him before, but he, too, was dressed in odd clothing. He wore navy pants that were a couple sizes too big and cinched tightly at the waist with a frayed rope, a black shirt similar to his own, and what looked like a makeshift sash draped over his torso.

As he still had no clue what was going on or who the man was speaking to, Koen couldn't help but look around the room again. The walls were boarded with wooden planks and nails bending every which way. To his right was a desk not unlike the one back in his room, but on top of this one was a large map of Earth with markings and drawings in red and black ink scribbled across it.

"Captain?" He faintly heard the man above his scrambled thoughts and returned his gaze to the door.

Then he saw it. Right above the door frame was a black and gold plaque, much more polished looking than anything else around him. He squinted his eyes, attempting to make out the words, and his breath caught in his throat.

CAPTAIN T. ARZHEL
Of the Crimson Scythe Crew

Arzhel was his brother's middle name. And T... T must stand for Thane. Of course he did away with his last name, or it would directly link him to the royal bloodline. This name on the plaque had to be his brother's, but where was he?

Koen continued to look around, now more hopeful than confused, and spotted another telling artifact- the captain's hat. It was a blood red, similar to the color of the sash on the man in the doorway. The man. He kept mentioning a captain, but the only other person in this room was himself.

A dream... it had to be a dream.
Besides, if this was real he would know how he got here, but he didn't have a clue.

His newfound hope was short lived. Dropping his gaze he caught site of his own reflection in a polished gold chalice on the bedside table. Well, what should have been his reflection. Instead, he saw dark curly hair that reached his shoulders, a shadow of a freshly trimmed beard and mustache, and eyes that resembled the deep sea, just like his own. He snactched the cup from the table and held it closer to his face.

It couldn't be.
He couldn't be.
Okay. This had to be a dream.

Was it? This certainly all seemed real. The way he could feel the uneven planks of the bed beneath the worn foam mattress. The way he could feel humid sea air creeping through the holes of the wooden walls and clinging to his skin. The rain he had heard when he'd woken up, he realized, wasn't rain at all, but waves. He could hear them, feel them crashing against the walls, rocking the ship side to side.

A ship. He was on a ship. In the Captain's room. A man was addressing him as Captain.

Was it delusional to think that maybe he had switched places with his brother? Maybe his wish to finally see what he was up to, and if he was okay, was coming true?

Thousands of questions were storming his mind once again, each one even crazier and more far fetched than the last.

"Rough night after last night's celebration, eh? Well, I'll leave you to it. We'll be docking soon, sir, so I do suggest you snap out of this soon," the look on the man's face as he turned away was telling that Koen, or Thane, whoever he was, was acting way out of the ordinary. Koen had honestly forgotten he'd been standing there.

Geesh, he probably did look like a lunatic.

Okay. Dream or not, he clearly had to play this part. Maybe this would show him answers, give him clues or signs for where to find his brother.

"Yes yes, you have my go. I'll be right up," he yelled after the man, then cleared his throat, which he just noticed to be incredibly dry, and gosh, did his breath taste horrible.

He pushed himself off the bed and reached for the merlot colored tricorn hat. It was velvety soft to the touch, and decorated with a huge black feather and a variety of beads. He flipped the hat over in his hands and placed it on his head. It was no crown, but for Thane, it must have felt like one.

He smiled at the thought. Though he still didn't know if his assumptions were true, he decided to believe they were. After all, any other hope for finding his brother was lost. This felt like his last fighting chance to find out more. Even if it was just one thing. Something good and new he could hold onto when this dream, or whatever it was, was over. It felt like reaching both hands into a black hole, with nothing to hold onto but the fear of falling through. And even if he fell, would he really have that much to lose?

With an uncertain shrug at his brother's reflection in the window, he left the room, plunging himself into an otherworldly community. Men of all ages bustled around him, shuffling and scrambling across the deck like a herd of ants. They were all dressed similarly to him, except their clothes were much more ragged, some only wearing pants or missing shoes. Most of them also carried swords, and those who didn't had knives shoved in their pockets.

Walking out into the crowd, he started up the stairs and to where the ship's wheel should be. Sure enough, the man he had seen in the doorway was behind the wheel, peering out at the horizon before them with an intense focus as he teetered the handles side to side. He looked at ease in front of that wheel. Like he was simply driving a car or playing a video game. He couldn't imagine how difficult it could be to steer this ship, much less dock it and change the sails to match the windstream. He looked back out onto the deck and admired the business of the crew. Everything they did to prepare to dock the ship looked second nature to them, and it seemed everyone knew their places. Three men were at each sail pulley, pulling the ropes in a synchronized fashion one way or another to slow the boat. Five men were stationed accordingly, awaiting to lower the anchor. Several men were packing bags of food and pails of drinking water, while others loaded them onto makeshift wheelbarrows. Looking to the front end of the ship, he saw one more person, leaning on what looked like a ginormous telescope. Their job must have been to scope for the island, and now that it was done, they seemed to be doing just as Koen was. People watching, admiring the bustling bodies and taking in the sites and sounds. Something was different about this person though. He squinted his eyes and leaned forward against the railing. His brows rose in surprise.

Well, there was definitely something different.

This crewmember was a woman. He could tell from her thinner bone structure and long hair, tangling as it swayed with the wind. He could also tell from her smooth olive skin and dainty facial features perfectly highlighted by the morning sun and shining sea. He could not tell what color her eyes were from this far away, but just the shape of them drew him in like no woman he'd ever seen.

Wait.
What was happening.
What just happened.
No, no no.
We were not making up love interests right now. Especially not while he was his brother. Gross.
He did not need to see any of that.
But gosh, even from here she was beautiful.

Koen shook away his trance, followed the boatman's gaze and saw that they were quickly approaching land, just as the man had mentioned before. He stared at the island in awe. The blinding glow of the sand in contrast with the deep blue of the sea. The various greens of the forestry, grasses, and shrubbery scattered across the land. He could only imagine what these people wanted with his land. They were pirates, thieves, crusaders. Were they looking for a village to raid and take over? A dangerous cave full of jewels and treasures? All of this made him feel like he was a child again, dressed in a pirate costume and playing pretend in the palace gardens. Except this time he could smell the salty air as it burned through his nostrils with every gust of wind. He could hear the seagulls caw and flap above them as they flew to and from the land. He could smell the stench of the crew around him that baked in the heat of the sun, making the air around them stiff and stale. Surely these people jumped in the ocean from time to time to bathe themselves?

"Captain!" The man yelled over the roaring winds and waves colliding with the sides of the ship, "you're looking much better indeed. I was getting worried you were coming down with something," the man gestured to Koen with the cock of his head.

If only he knew this man's name, these conversations would surely be less awkward. He laughed off the tension and strode toward the man. With a shorter distance between them, he could see this man was much taller than he was, and likely much older. He had the beginnings of wrinkles around his eyes, and sunspots where the hair on his face did not quite cover his skin. He must have been in his early thirties and stood about six feet tall. He was also a bit huskier. To put it this way, Koen certainly did not want to cross this man, or he'd be down in seconds.

"You are aware of the plan once we dock, I hope?" Koen asked as confidently as possible, mimicking the aura of the man before him to avoid drawing any further negative attention to himself after their previous meeting.

The man's left eyebrow quirked upward slightly in confusion, "Yes, Captain. We spoke of it last night." The man let out a grumbling chuckle as his attention returned to the land before them, "You sure you're feeling alright? Don't want you to go down today, this is our biggest pursuit yet. The greatest heist in history if we can pull this off. Your mind better be in this kid. All of it."

His voice echoed with suspicion and worry. Whatever this crew was up to, it was big, probably even bigger than they could handle, but what would happen if they lost their fight? What were they even fighting against? Fighting for? What were they taking? Would these people really put their lives in the hands of a seventeen year old? And what was so special about his brother that he beat out this perfectly capable grown man to become their captain?

His mind grew dizzy with the amount of questions he'd been asking himself lately. For most of his life he was so sure about everything. So intent with the direction his life was to go. Since the disappearance of his brother he knew he would become king. From then on, he had planned his life to the end. Study, train, practice, and learn. Become eighteen, find a woman to marry, possibly a princess, possibly a common citizen. He hadn't figured that part out yet, but he knew he'd be against any arranged marriage. From then his parents would step down and he would be crowned King of the Isles of Nikita.

He had always had this vision, always been so sure. Never gave any step, instruction, or lesson a second thought. The only questions he ever asked were to learn more about something. Now his questions were filled with fear, doubt, confusion, and worry. An overwhelming cocktail of emotions he's never felt before. His entire world felt like it was falling apart before him.

Except for one little piece.

Some part of him felt like it was finally coming together. Something that has been gnawing at the back of his mind felt like it was finally being put to rest.

That was, of course, if this crew survived this mission of theirs.

He averted his eyes from the man as if to hide the look of great concern he knew was imminent on his features.

Perhaps this was a bad time to switch bodies with your pirate captain brother?
Their greatest heist.
In history.
What would happen if they didn't pull it off?

He took a breath and swallowed a lump of fear in his throat.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry." He feigned his confident aura once again, "Was just a little groggy this morning... that's all."

Okay.
No pressure at all.