prologue
It wasn't about the damned islands, it was about honor.
The honor of being able to say they belonged to us, saying it and meaning it. Because we sustained that las Malvinas were our property, but so did the British. For years, each country claimed las Malvinas as theirs.
Falklands, they called them.
Even the name they gave sounded wrong. A territory so close to our land, a part of South American soil couldn't have the name given to it by an english speaker. Many centuries earlier we had fought off the spanish for the same freedom. The right to our own land, a country we could call our own.
Our Argentina.
Now it was time to prove who was really the one in charge.
It was the crack of dawn on the island when we arrived by ship. No one had suspected a thing. "Remember men," The General said before letting us off on dry land. "Our objective is to take both islands by nightfall. Agüero will be leading you into the town square, where Rojo will be closing in from the east, Di Maria from the north, and Messi from the south. We'll have the island surrounded and in our possession. Las Malvinas belong to us." He finished, and wished us luck.
It wasn't about the islands, it was about honor.
Because how could we let them? How could we let them take something that wasn't theirs?
But one thing was for sure,
las Malvinas belonged to us.
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why did i randomly write the prologue for this?
i just suddenly felt inspired. so i hope you like it, and find it interesting. thank you so much for reading and supporting. it means a lot.
thank you. i love you.
-clary xx
