The Adventures of the King:
One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda:
Chapter 1
Test of the Sea
There were high seas that day. Rayleigh looked out at the coming waves, half thrilled, half cringing. His boat was nothing huge, and the sea, like he'd known since childhood, was having a ball with testing the two newest sailors on her depths. The sails balked as the wind filled them, propelling the ship forward.
It had been three weeks since he'd set out with Roger on his little quest. The days had been filled with much food-for-thought as the two slowly learned about each other. Rayleigh found himself continuously surprised at Roger's everyday behavior. One moment the Mugiwara man would be quiet and thoughtful, just moving about the ship staring at the sea with some sort of reserved intensity. And the next moment, Roger would run laps around the deck while spouting something ridiculous. The man was certainly something… Though to be fair, Rayleigh had no way of knowing what impression his own behavior made on Roger and he wasn't about to ask; for all he knew, Roger might think him a complete nut case.
Despite the odd behavior of his new captain, Rayleigh was pleased to discover that Roger was all around easy to deal with. The man didn't know everything about ships and sailing, but he was willing to listen and learn what his new first mate knew. And everything Rayleigh didn't know, Roger made up for; in short, their partnership worked. They talked about random, unimportant things. Nothing ground-breaking or deep, but the conversations weren't forced or awkward, so it progressed smoothly enough.
Roger seemed content to let things develop at its own pace, not rushing. The captain had not asked Rayleigh any exactly personal questions or asked to be given any of his history other than what Rayleigh himself volunteered to share. The blonde filed that fact under what he deemed as Roger's 'good traits' that he'd been cultivating in his mind. Rayleigh wasn't a paranoid person, but he had to admit he was curious about Roger and the type of man he was.
Why did he want to be a pirate? Why a choice that was so ill reputed? What was his goal outside of being a pirate, if any— well, besides 'entering the world's frontal view' or 'turning the world upside down'. And what were those goals about anyway?
He had questions. But he refrained from asking out of respect for Roger's respect for his own privacy; he deserved the same in return. After all, if things continued on as smoothly as they'd been so far, he'd likely have the answers to these questions sooner or later.
A loud yawn disrupted Rayleigh's thinking. The blonde turned as he heard the door of the cabin close and watched Roger come to stand beside him on the deck. The man's hair was a wreck, but it was quickly hidden when the Mugiwara was put on his head again.
Roger hummed as he noticed the waves. "I thought we were moving a lot. Guess this explains it." He remarked in a sleepy tone.
Rayleigh smirked, "It's actually calmed down a bit compared to earlier." Roger seemed surprised at this, his eyes widened. Now clearly more awake.
"Really?" he asked, looking at the waves, almost pouting. "Shucks, I missed it!" He looked at Rayleigh, "How big were they?"
"The cabin door was closed for a reason." The blonde informed the man, nodding at the deck of the ship-they had a habit of keeping the door open on good days, to let cool air in, "They were coming about two feet over the deck, thank goodness it's windy today, or I'd still be drenched."
"Wake me up next time!" Roger said, both whining and excited. "I would have liked to have seen them!"
Rayleigh chuckled, glad that the wind mainly masked the sound, "Fine, I'll wake you next time, though I may not have to today."
"Yeah," Roger agreed, inclining his head at the dark clouds in the distance, "We might be seeing bigger ones soon."
"Ugh," Rayleigh muttered, unenthused, "I hope not. I'm a good swimmer, but I don't want to swim over fifty miles to the next island."
Roger eyed his first mate, the man was full of such interesting facets of contradiction, on one side he was confident and assured and on the other he was cautious and, while admittedly pessimistic, had a proper view of the situation. "You're thinking too much," He announced, "We can handle it, who knows, it could be fun!"
"You're definition of 'fun' I think might need some work, Captain." Rayleigh said with apt sarcasm. Those clouds didn't look like they'd be fun.
Roger chuckled for a moment, but Rayleigh noted that it lacked its common good humor, and he eyed him warily, and Roger spoke, "At least don't worry about it until it's actually here, besides, this time of year along with the natural testy weather patterns around Bermuda island, this is normal; we better get used to it. Later on the seas will get tougher and we'll have to be ready to face them." The blonde suppressed a sigh, yet again caught off guard by Roger's behavior, he could be ridiculous, but he had these moments where he showed wisdom that you wouldn't guess he had by his appearance.
"Point taken, Captain," Rayleigh said diplomatically, nodding.
At this, Roger seemed to brighten, and he grinned suddenly. "Good, now that that's decided, let's eat, I'm starving!"
"If you wouldn't sleep in so much you wouldn't miss meals, you know." Rayleigh reminded him, though he'd never told him that before. And with Roger's reaction, the blonde wondered if anyone had ever told Roger that before.
"Say what!?" the captain shouted, the portrait of shock.
"Well, it's not like I'm going to go hungry just because you are."
"You've eaten already?" Roger asked, holding his gut as if wounded.
"Just breakfast," Rayleigh assured him with a placating gesture of peace, and continued, "I was going to wake you for lunch if you weren't up by then. Not eating right out here will kill you."
"I'm not going to die," Roger said flatly, but he had that strange intensity in his eyes again, "I'm never missing breakfast again!"
The blonde first mate blinked, this man could certainly get worked up over food, but he had to clarify, "Relax, Roger, if you'd continued sleeping in and missing breakfast I was going to bring it up. I wouldn't say nothing and let you die; I'd be a pretty bad first mate if I allowed that."
He wasn't going to wait for Roger's reaction, so he went inside the cabin to prepare something for them to eat.
Roger had to replay what his first mate had said about three times before his meaning became real to him. 'Trust me, will you, I have your back.' That's how it translated to Roger, and he was quite sure that he was right in believing it. His grin was wide and ecstatic throughout lunch; ecstatic with his luck, and even happier with his choice in a first mate.
…~…
Later on that day Rayleigh was looking at a map of the stretch of water they were about to enter. The stretch of water had a strange name on the map, The Under-Scupper Stretch. Rayleigh cocked an eyebrow, wondering what the name was supposed to mean.
"Roger," he called to the Mugiwara captain. Roger glanced over his shoulder at Rayleigh and noted his furrowed brow as he came up to him. Rayleigh proffered the map he'd been looking at and asked, "Do you know what the Under-Scupper Stretch is?"
Roger thought for a minute, searching his memory. The name sounded vaguely familiar, wasn't that…? "A twenty mile span of water… before the ten, or some-odd, mile mark to Bermuda Island?"
Rayleigh nodded, inclining his head at the map that Roger had yet to look at, "Yes, it is, but the name is written in the garish gothic font, which means it's dangerous; any idea why? We should be prepared."
Roger steadied his hat as a gust of wind passed them, "I've never been to Bermuda Island before, so I don't really know much."
"So we're going in blind…" Rayleigh mused, less than thrilled. He hummed as he thought, trying to reason out what the danger could be, "A scupper is a drain on a ship…" he mumbled, but Roger heard him, seeming to catch on to what he was trying to do.
"Yeah, and it's called Under-Scupper. That's weird… a drain that's under a ship?"
"It's the ocean though. No drain for it. It can't be a whirlpool either; the map would've showed it." Rayleigh said, stroking his chin.
There was a span of silence as they pondered the words. Having enough, Roger sighed, "I guess we'll see when we get there. Under-Scupper makes no sense."
"You're right, but I don't like it." Rayleigh agreed, and they prepped the ship to go.
The dark clouds in the distance were releasing occasional peals of dim thunder, and with the wind currents both Roger and Rayleigh knew that it was headed their way. The build of the cumulous clouds was getting larger by the hour, reaching, Rayleigh figured, about ten miles high and it filled the eastern horizon to packed; it was a big storm.
"We should get through the Under-Scupper Stretch quickly," Roger advised even though he knew his first mate fully agreed with him. Roger prided himself on his bravery, but he was far from stupid, that storm would be hard to get through with their current vessel, and plus he had Rayleigh's life to consider…
Rayleigh nodded, eyeing the clouds, but he quickly turned back to his task, tightening the jib sheet.
"The winds are bringing the storm from the east, that's rare, so it'll be a bad one if we get caught in it." Rayleigh announced, Roger nodded, knowing the fact as well as any, and his first mate continued, "If we sail windward we'll miss Bermuda Island completely and have to deal with the storm out on the open water. I'm figuring that the storm will hit us in about three hours, so we don't have much time to work with when getting through the Under-Scupper Stretch, and that's not counting what dangers await us when going through there."
Roger nodded, coming to stand next to Rayleigh to look at the map he held. Narrowing his eyes, he looked carefully, "Bermuda Island has three ports, two on the far west side of the island and one in the northeast. The northeastern port is the closest, but we'll have to sail almost directly leeward."
"True," Rayleigh said, "But that will add about two hours onto our time, we'll be in the thick of the storm by the time we reach the Under-Scupper, and with that we'll still have about thirty miles to sail until we reach the port, and we still don't know if that port will be open during the storm."
Roger cringed, seeing the point, "So you want to head to one of the western ports?" His first mate turned to look at him fully,
"I'll go where ever you say to go, but, yes, it would probably be better if we aimed for the western ports."
Roger was about to answer, when both men lurched sharply as the ship gave a nasty shake and rocked testily.
"What was that?" Both Roger and Rayleigh asked at once. No time to even try to answer each other's question, the boat lurched again, but this time it was harder, and the two were recovering their balance with a vengeance. And then they were hit again.
"What is going on?" Roger snapped, he ran to the side of the ship and looked over. "It felt like we hit something!"
Another rattle and then the ship lurched hard to the side, knocking Rayleigh off his feet. He scrambled up again, but then an idea came to mind. "Roger, get to the tiller, I'll see what is going on from above."
Roger looked hesitant, but did as he was told anyway when Rayleigh climbed atop the cabin roof and inched his way up and onto the miniature crow's nest at the top of the mast.
Up so high, the blonde saw the problem immediately despite the choppy waves. Alarmed, he called down to Roger, "It's a reef, or rocks, or some—" he didn't finish as the ship collided with something below the waves.
"Rocks…!" Roger called, shocked. "Shouldn't the map have warned us about stuff like that?!"
"It did…" Rayleigh said as the ship brushed another rock, jostling them sharply to the left. "The map should've said 'Scupper-Puncher Stretch' instead of 'Under-Scupper Stretch'. We were warned, I guess…" More rocks were up ahead. From high up it looked like there was a deep shadow under the water while the rest of the water, not hiding rocks, was a distinctly lighter shade.
Rayleigh snapped out of his monotone quickly when he saw they were coming up on the shadowed parts, but there was a clearing to the right… without thinking, Rayleigh called out.
"Roger, turn to port, quick!"
Roger, meanwhile, had next to no idea which way 'port' meant, so he guessed at random, but he watched Rayleigh closely.
Up on the mini crows-nest, Rayleigh jerked as the boat moved under him, the sensation was stronger when there was less under your feet to support you, but they turned toward the rocks shadow instead of away from it!
"Ah!" he almost shrieked in alarm and he looked at Roger on the deck.
Roger was glad he'd been watching his first mate; he'd obviously chosen the wrong direction, so he pulled the tiller, hard, in the opposite direction. The captain cringed as he saw Rayleigh frantically grab for the length of mast to balance himself.
You cannot be serious! The blonde raged in his head. But he pushed it aside for the moment when he saw another shadow just under the water directly in front of them and there was no clearing this time.
"Hold on, Roger, there's no avoiding this one!" he called, and the ship rocked heavily and the two pirates cringed as they felt the rocks scrape against the hull of their little ship. The rattling jarred their teeth and both silently prayed that severe damage would be avoided.
Rayleigh kept his eyes open for a way out. "About ten more feet of this, Roger, then we'll have to go starboard!" He gestured to his captain, but he motioned to their left, "You'll have to turn the tiller left to go right!"
"That makes no sense, but alright!" Roger replied, confused. Their ship continued to groan as it endured the rough trek over the rocks. Roger's hands holding the tiller were beginning to go numb from all the shaking, but he kept his hold, listening for Rayleigh's instruction.
"A little further now, get ready!" the blonde announced. Roger tightened his grip, preparing to turn the tiller to the left even if made no sense.
"Turn now!"
Roger wrenched the tiller to the left, and the ship swung to the right. Up above, Rayleigh noted the sharpness of the turn. He vaguely wondered of Roger was angry, but he could deal with that later. More calmly, for good measure, Rayleigh called, "ease to the right now,"
Roger heard him and did as instructed. The ship corrected and sailed in a straight line now.
"How far do we have to—?" Roger asked, but cut off suddenly as something cold settled in his gut and he froze.
"About fifteen miles," the blonde answered and added, "Turn the tiller left."
Roger didn't answer, but he slowly directed the tiller right to go left. His movements felt stiff, like his joints were stuffed with gravel. Dread filled him. He'd had this feeling before…
"Rayleigh…" he said in a serious voice that could carry for miles.
Rayleigh immediately turned to look at Roger, he should keep his eyes on the water and the coming sections of rocks to avoid, but something in Roger's tone chilled him and something inside was screaming at him to take heed.
Eyeing the waters ahead very quickly, Rayleigh saw no shadows for now, "What is it?" he asked. And he noted with some surprise that even under the shade of his hat, Roger's face had turned ashen.
"What's wrong, Roger?" the first mate reiterated, now concerned.
"Rayleigh, we should head for the northeastern port." Roger said softly, but that serious tone hadn't faltered a bit. Rayleigh suppressed a shiver, and he looked at the waters again to distract himself.
"We agreed to go to one of—"
"Rayleigh," Roger stated, now looking up at the blonde. Rayleigh blinked, that intensity was back, but it was yet different than the other times he'd seen it. Not tempered with humor, frustration, or rebuke… the first mate wasn't sure but it looked like—
"Let's switch places, Rayleigh, please." Roger said in the same tone. He stood from his spot near the tiller. The boat hit another set of rocks and cantered severely to the right. Eerily unaffected by the ship's movement, Roger stared off in the same direction of the rock set that bulled them as if waiting for something.
Rayleigh, confused, but with his insides still screaming at him, warily acquiesced and jumped down from his perch. The sound of his landing jarred Roger out of his trance and the ship scraped against more rocks and the deck vibrated testily.
The blonde first mate stood to full height again and he looked at his captain. That intensity was still there, but up close it was different. The ship bumped something and Rayleigh leaned with the ship to keep his balance. "Roger," Rayleigh said, his own voice sounded strange to him, he wasn't sure why.
The addressed looked at his companion. "Something's wrong," he said without preamble and continued before Rayleigh could get a word in, "we need to get out of here, fast."
Rayleigh nodded. His gut told him not to question his captain right now; that it would be a mistake to push him. So without a word he walked over and sat at the tiller. Meanwhile Roger had sprinted to the mast, as if their ship wasn't violently rocking; he climbed up it with ease and claimed the blonde's former perch.
Roger then looked back down to Rayleigh, that intensity, whatever form it was taking this time, was getting stronger. "I'm going to say left and right like a normal person." He stated and he looked at the waters over the starboard side of the ship. "Can you move the ship if I say it like that?" he asked, locking gazes with the blonde.
The atmosphere about the Mugiwara Captain was stifling now, Rayleigh wondered if he could've spoken even if he'd wanted to. Jerkily, he nodded the affirmative.
"Alright, then move the ship as I tell you."
Silence fell, save for the ship ramming the rocks beneath the waves. Roger cringed as that freezing feeling in his gut spread, breathing was getting difficult, but he managed, knowing full well that panic wouldn't help him here, and it would endanger his first mate if he cracked. He scanned the waters ahead with resolve, eyes sharp for his unknown dread.
He hated this 'feeling'. Whatever it was, it made him vulnerable, weak… and if he was weak he couldn't protect anything, even if it was only Rayleigh right now. He inhaled a deep breath, and the ship careened into a rough batch of rocks. The opposing elements battered against each other, fighting for dominance. Roger knew that rock would eventually win out over the wood of their hull if this continued for too much longer, but it would have to last. It would just have to.
There was no other way.
"Rayleigh," he called to his first mate. The blonde on the deck below him looked up. Roger felt his eyes on his back without turning; he knew he had the man's undivided attention. "To the right," he commanded.
Their ship steered right as Rayleigh moved the tiller to the left. The atmosphere that Roger was creating was so heavy in the air that Rayleigh had to focus in order to breathe. He wanted to ask what the problem really was, but his gut cut him off when he thought to try and ask; warning him severely to be silent.
It wouldn't have been heard anyway. For in the instant that Rayleigh decided to remain quiet a deafening peal of thunder rent the air, filling it with explosive echoes. Both the blonde and the Mugiwara captain flinched sharply at the sudden noise and looked up.
Neither had registered the time swiftly passing them by, and with their attention on hidden rocks, unknown dreads, a shaking ship, and the sudden mood swings of certain captains, they hadn't noticed the gradually darkening skies as the storm stalked them.
Author's note: I don't know much about ships and such, I'm doing my best, but, -shrugs- just letting the populace know. If something is glaringly wrong, let me know. If I can't fix it, I'll at least know for future stories. Let me know what Y'all think!