She'd been cold for so long. But now, everywhere, there was heat.
There was heat in the open, bleeding wounds on her knuckles. There was heat pulsing through her right side, black bruises creeping out from where her jacket left pale skin to be bit by winter air. There was white hot heat pooled in her gut, a rage without words. And there was heat in the tears that cascaded down her face like a current, slipping and sliding down frost bitten cheeks.
She was afraid. Afraid to lose even more. Afraid that her suspicions had been confirmed. Afraid that she would never be good like he used to be. Afraid that she was just a set of snarling teeth and shards of glass buried in the skin of anyone she came close to.
They were so good, and-
Well, her subconscious whispered, you used to be.
CHAPTER ONE
(Sleeping At Last / The Ash Is In Our Clothes)
Drum Island was a small, remote island which stood all but untouched in the waters of the Grand Line. Ice sparkled in the cerulean light of the early morning, as snow descended from what remained of the night's dark.
At any distance the white plains served only one purpose: to mask the crimson carnage that stained the mud hidden far below.
Drum kingdom used to thrive, vibrant and fruitful, until the benumbing king breathed ice against the flourishing fields and one by one flowers shrivelled and were born anew from darkness, cold and white and bitter. They lashed out with fury, reacting to the storm in their veins, and suddenly spring was eating itself from the inside out until nothing was left but an arctic Siberia.
The waves were gentle, rippling pools of obsidian under a sapphire sky. Despite all the dark a deeper black made itself known, dead in the centre of a masthead which quickly ascended from waters far off the shore. The familiar skull and crossbones emblem whip around in the harsh winds, but even the ruthlessness of a group of pirates couldn't thrive in such a place.
Even as they approached the shore, with sinister smiles stretched across their mouths, one had to wonder if they had any idea how many cold sharp sights were trained upon them.
On the edge of a snowy hill, far from any distinguished road, a pair of silvery eyes narrowed suspiciously. Within a pale grasp, light flashed off of glass as the figure slowly backed away into the darkness of the nearest pine forest.
The day seemed to be gifting her with more allowance than she was used to. When Lana Rhys found herself in the markets of the town of Glovia, the presence of their citizens was scarce and left her much needed breathing room. Wide stone roads stretched along either side of her as the woman pressed against the wind, sweeping down from the true north of the island. The lights of insulated homes were inviting, the scent of warm and hardy supper foods wafting from chimneys even more so, but Lana never lifted her head to show any indication that she was aware of the world around her. Truth be told, she was indeed lost in her thoughts as she remembered the pirate ship she'd seen earlier that morning.
There still hasn't been any news on who that could've been, The young woman thought as she edged around the crossfire of Wapol's men and eager citizens who were begging for health care for a family member, or a friend, or an acquaintance. All the remaining soldiers who supported Wapol had taken up camp in a warehouse at the edge of town, with easy access to the docks without direct contact with the unwelcome cold wind that gusted off the waters. Maybe it wasn't him. Would it really be a surprise if Wapol was too much of a coward to return? No. Perhaps I should stop waiting for him to come here. Maybe I should board a ship and-
"Please!" An elder lady cried, falling to her knees in the deep snow. "It's my grandchild! You must help me!" Tears poured so heavily down her cheeks that Lana could clearly see the flow from where she stood several meters away. She paused in her path.
The officer turned to leave without paying the woman any mind. The lady's cowl fell off her head as she wrapped her arms tightly around his leg. She gazed up at him with wide, terror filled eyes. "Please, sir! Surely you can't let a child die!"
He kicked her hard in the jaw, sending her crashing backward with a sharp cry. The collective volume of the crowd fell into silence.
An elderly man stepped forward, likely the woman's husband. "Wapol ran!" He shouted, his voice quaking. "He abandoned us! You don't need to follow his rules anymore, this is your decision now! Please, Officer Eustacia, you of all people should know that a parent should not have to outlive their child!" He pleaded, stabilizing the woman under his shaking hands.
With his back turned, the citizens couldn't see the cruel smile that twisted what could have been the handsome features of the soldier. "No, Niall, I wouldn't know. I have pledged my life to this capital and for that I am granted specific benefits. However, maybe you should retract your retirement and work again. I'm sure you could get an audience with Wapol shortly thereafter."
"I am not fit to work!" The elder man cried, his bright hazel eyes glittering with unshed tears. "I cannot offer my best to your forces anymore! All I ask for is help for my grandson as acknowledgement of the work I've already performed for you!"
Eustacia turned, his amusement ebbed. He sighed irritatedly. "You know the rules. It's too bad. You were a good master in your time but as they say: The past is in the past."
Without another word, the officer stomped through the snow and past the line of guards blocking the entrance to the main gate.
Lana waited for the clamour to build once more before carefully approaching the couple. She took the woman's red coat sleeve, helping her husband stand her up.
"Thank you, honey." The woman's voice was a hoarse croak, and the younger woman who steadied her on her feet could see the hopeless tears cascading down her weathered face.
"Take me to him." Lana replied.
The reaction was instantaneous. Both the man and the woman's faced blanched in shock, before the old man snapped out a strangled, "What?!" His forest eyes snapped down to his wife, looking for her to share in his anger. Instead, his discomfort eased at the assuring look she offered him. The old woman looked back at the hooded figure in front of her, trying to peer into her eyes from her position, but her attempt only succeeded in making the younger woman's lips- the only feature visible under the darkness of her hood- twist into a small smile.
"You will help us?"
Lana nodded wordlessly. She glanced at the soldier's fortress, wondering if anyone would see her conversing with the couple who'd been very audibly begging for medical care a handful of moments ago and get suspicious. She knew full well why the elderly man had become so enraged. Having the medical skills that Lana did, she would be persecuted along with anyone who housed her in the absence of King Wapol. Although he had been gone for several months now, his eventual return was found in the fear of the citizens.
The taller woman stiffened when a hand closed around her thin wrist, bare to the cold despite her dark gloves and smoke grey coat.
"Then follow us. Please. We haven't much time."
Lana pulled her arm away, the contact strange and foreign and making her feel warmth towards the strangers in front of her that she wasn't prepared to feel. Despite everything, she took up position behind them as they walked away from the castle.
Their home was fairly remote. Almost safe, but not quite.
By the time they reached the final winding path that lead to their front door, they were distanced quite substantially from any nearby towns. Lana had nearly twenty minutes of escape room, more than enough time to move and keep herself untraceable, if they decided to dispatch reinforcements. Not to mention the fact that they were well into old age. They wouldn't move half as fast as the teenage girl could, even if they decided to attack directly in their home.
She just had to keep my guard up. As per usual.
"There it is." The old man said gruffly, pointing downwards. At the crevice of two hills, protected from the worst of the howling winds, was an average sized wood cabin. There were candles lit in the windows, but no real source of light could reveal any of the inner details of the home. It had a traditional triangular roof, and a balanced stack of wood poked out from under a small shed behind the structure. It seemed harmless enough.
Lana didn't answer to his remark, instead opting to silently follow them down into the valley. Once they got within twenty feet of the front door, Lana could see how cozy the home was. There were plants hanging in the windows, framed by soft moving silk curtains. The kitchen took up the front right portion of the home, curling into the corner. The rest of the space which could be seen from the front window was an open concept dining and living room. A slight wall showed where the bedroom began, and when the kind old lady pressed open the front door Lana could see the end of a well kept bed.
The house was nearly dead silent, save for the crackling of fire in the furnace- the only source of heat in the entire cabin. When the door pressed closed behind us, Lana felt blood rush to her fingers and cheeks, stinging.
"He's in the back room. His name is Daniel. Not that it really matters, he hasn't woken up in the last two days or responded to any stimulus at all. He is breathing really hard, so we know he hasn't... you know that he's not..."
"Thank you for the information." The grey haired woman said, inhaling quietly until her lungs had retained all they could. She held the breath for a second, curled her fingers over the edges of her hood, and exhaled silently as she pulled the fabric down.
One of them shuffled back fast, banging hard into the kitchen counter. The other audibly gasped sharply. "You!" The old man breathed. "You're her. You're-"
"Lana Rhys." His wife breathed. "The Witch's apprentice."
"And all the help you've got." The girl pointed out, turning on her heel. "Will you still accept my help?"
The pair of them stared at each other, silently communicating fears and frustrations. Finally, the old lady bowed her head. The old man looked up, eyes narrowed. "We've told you all we know. Do what you can. But I'm warning you, if any harm comes to him-"
"I'm more than well aware, sir." The elder man caught the scent of camomile as she passed, soothing and faint. And then she had set her pack against the small side table of her client's bed and laid out her instruments to examine him. "And I can assure you, my focuses lie elsewhere. Now, I need some information on Wapol."
A/N: Thank you so much just for checking this out! The Straw Hats begin to make their appearance in the next chapter, for those who are curious. If you enjoyed, Favorite/Follow! More coming very soon.