Ch. 16- The Guessing Truth

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Ch. 16- The Guessing Truth

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I had noticed the painting before, but I never knew what to say. When I was alone, I would find myself staring at it. I memorized every detail of the painting the first day I saw, and I still just had to watch it. The painting, of course, looked familiar, but I couldn't place it.

I was certain the little boy was Hiccup when he was younger, but it looked so much like my big brother. Could Hiccup be my big brother?

I shook my head. No way. Not possible. Surely they would have recognized my name (and my story of how I got separated from them) and told me. I was my brother's only friend, baby sister, and favorite person in all of the known viking world. Surely he'd welcome me home if he had known it was me. I was daddy's little girl, too.

But I could swear that little girl looked like a younger version of me.

There were no family paintings of the two kids as they aged. Just the one. The kids were about five and seven, though. Maybe the little girl could be six, or maybe the little boy could. I don't know.

"Do you like it?" asked Hiccup.

I jumped and whipped around to face him.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"No," I absent mindedly waved him off. "It's fine. And yeah, it looks familiar."

"Familiar how?"

I pointed at the little boy. "That looks like my big brother. When we were little, of course."

"Oh, does it?" he asked, almost knowingly.

"Yes. Hiccup, do you have a sister? A little sister?" I asked.

I turned back to Hiccup, watching his eyes sadden. "Yeah. I do. I'll tell you later, okay. Now isn't a good time."

I nodded, assuming the girl had died. "Okay. Sorry."

He brushed it off. "Nah, I just don't like to think about it. Come on, the gang is waiting. You up for another Dragon Race?"

"Oh, yeah!" I smiled, excited after two weeks of no Dragon Races. I grabbed Hiccup's wrist and dragged him out the door. I wasn't going to wait for him to change his mind. He was overprotective to those he cares about, I learned quickly.

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That night, I had the worst dream of all.

Brother insisted on goofing around while fishing. He could never sit still. Daddy sighed, smiling slightly. He just wanted a nice, relaxing day off with his two young kids. He should have known better with his hyperactive son. Surprisingly, his daughter, the younger of the two, hesitated before pulling her line back in and joining her brother. She actually wanted to fish. Either the need to move around or the want to please her brother took over, and she gave in. Probably the latter. His daughter did everything her brother wanted, even if it meant trouble.

"Kids, sit down for ten minutes, then you can stop fishing, okay?" he tried to reason.

"Okay, daddy," his daughter, I, instantly agreed, sitting back in my spot.

Brother whined. "But fishing is so boring, dad. Why can't we play while you fish?"

Dad frowned, making Brother sit in his seat. "Because all your shouting and rocking the boat is scaring the fish away. You don't have to fish, but don't run around, either."

Brother still grabbed his fishing pole, hooked the bait, and threw it into the water, glumly.

"Don't look so down, big brother," I smiled. "Let's see who can catch the most fish, okay?" He loved competition, though winning and losing never meant much to either, just the excitement of the game.

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