Some Alabastan angst. Enjoy.
The worst was the quiet.
So much happening at once. The noise, but the silence. She couldn't bear the silence of her comrades as they ran.
There should be screaming.
The children should be crying, the mothers shushing as they flee.
The soldiers should be conferring and throwing orders around.
But no more had been said since the last order was given. No one balked, no one talked back. The terror had swallowed them and moved their legs forward.
There should be screaming. Instead, the screams came out of their eyes, clutched at their chests and made them gasp. It made the pounding of their feet against the packed sand of the road seem like thunder, this silence of the people. They simply ran, because they knew that was all that was left to do.
Maybe… the Queen…
There was no hope there. She shouldn't dare to hope. She knew that all of them were dead, no matter if they made it south to the canyon or not. The Queen could not save them. No one could save them. They were already dead.
She turned her head side to side. She was in front. Were they still following her? She risked a glance back – to the thunderous multitude, the city's population and all her men. They did not watch her as they should. There was no need; her last order had been given, and now they must do what they could to save as many as could be saved. All eyes were ahead, on the next step in their paths. To the mountains. And the canyon leading to safety.
She looked further back. She remembered – the pirate army had consumed Tanukalma in a matter of hours – and on the horizon it still smoked against the light of the setting sun. Then, closer, was a black streak across the desert. It had slipped forward without her noticing, and tendrils were snaking to the now-empty buildings at the far edge of the city.
She cried out, but no sound came. The tragedy of Tanukalma overtook her; her shoulders shook with the memory. Was it only yesterday her sentinels had seen the ships sail into the harbor? Was it only last night the pirates stormed through the town, killing and burning? Her hand fell to her katana; was it really only this morning, in that awful battle for her men's lives, that she killed the pirate, the one who had shattered her sword and slaughtered her people, as the sun rose? The sun was setting now; had it only been six hours since she gave that final order from Tanukalma; the one to retreat?
Reltan is burning.
She ushered her thoughts back to the present. The pirates had lit the edge of the city, and the wooden frames of the buildings caught and fed the fire. The desert wind had lifted the scent to the people. She saw some stumble, looking over their shoulders. Some stopped to watch their homes turn to ash, their shoulders shaking with more than fear. Those few from Tanukalma pressed on without looking back, pulling the Reltani denizens along with them.
Someone should be crying. There is too much pain here for silence to hold.
When she had climbed the slope of the first of the mountains of sand-colored rock, her soldiers had reached her, but then ran past. Many had the elderly and infirm on their backs. She watched them approvingly, and then turned her eyes down the slope. The black streak had become a horde of shouting pirates. It had enveloped Reltan and let it burn, the smoke spiraling up to the dome of fading light. From her higher vantage point, she could almost see the sparkle of the ocean, and she focused on it as the horde advanced on the refugees. Everyone had entered the foothills and was making their way up the side of the dune she stood on. Soon the townspeople would reach her and move past. She stepped to the side to let them follow the path, and then slowly drew her katana.
A green banner was tied to the hilt, and it snapped in the desert wind as she raised it above her head, holding it by the two-inch-long broken blade, all that was left of her precious Meitou.
She drew a breath, and broke the quiet.
"I FIGHT FOR YOU, TANUKALMA!"
Her voice poured down the mountainside and bounced back at her from the nearby valleys. The people up the mountain stopped running and walking. Her men turned to watch her with open mouths.
She drew the katana she had taken from one of her fallen comrades, and held it by the hilt so the blade glinted red in the sunset. The horde had already reached the foothills. She had not stopped them yet.
There is no hope for us.
She drew another breath.
"I FIGHT FOR YOU, RELTAN!"
Someone behind her cried out at her words. His sob became her own, and her breath caught on her tears. She was winded, but no longer gasping, no longer suffocating from a scream. She had broken the dam. Others behind her began to wail their pain.
There was a hand on her shoulder. Her second; her friend. "Some of the men are leading the people on, to the canyon," he said. "The rest are here with you." He had come back down the mountain and stood beside her now, drawn katana shining beside hers. She faced the horde encouraged.
"I FIGHT FOR YOU, ALABASTA!"
The horde slowed. It wasn't enough. They would reach them soon.
"I FIGHT FOR YOU, ALABASTA!"
"FOR ALABASTA!"
"FOR OUR PEOPLE!"
The silence was dead. The cooling desert air vibrated with the drawing of swords and the voices of her men. She loved them as she had never loved anything, and shouted a battle cry as she began to run down the mountain, knowing they would follow.
It hadn't been her last order. They followed her still. Their shouts grew louder as they approached the stunned enemy. She happened to look to her right…
A great ship, riding on the sand, swiftly approached. She called three times for a halt, and her men stopped, pointing at the phenomenon. She heard some of them bless the Queen.
There is hope…
There is hope for us. We will live to see tomorrow. I will see Tanukalma rebuilt.
There was silence from the horde as the ship moved between it and its prey. A cheer came from the mountains as a flag was flown from the crow's nest – the flag of the new Queen of Alabasta. And beside it…
The flag of the Straw Hat Pirates.
She grinned and raised her katana.
"GOMU GOMU NO…"
They had won.