Inkbolt

by Yeomanaxel

When the world has ended, its high time to find another. Damian Volta must learn this lesson, as lightning strikes him from the old to the new. Stranded forever on an ocean full of pirates and magic, two years before Luffy begins his quest for the Throne, Volta must forge a new path for himself. His actions will decide his fate, and that of many others. Für immer weiterleiten!

4. Tamago Tree Arc Part 1

Chapter 4 - The Tamago Kingdom

The sun rose on the morning of May 10th, Volta and Zoro's third day in the Marine hospital tent on Beer Town. It was also Volta's sixth day in this new world, and he reflected on this fact as he consumed a light breakfast.

His banana finished, Volta tossed the peel into the air, its trajectory aimed at the trash can across the length of the room. He would never know that at the same time the peel reached the climax of its arc, two significant events would occur.

The first happened just a region away, in a harbor near a stretch of ocean perfect for fishing. A young boy with a mop of pink hair set foot on a ship he thought would take him into this fishing zone, only to realize too late that it was a pirate vessel, one led by a malicious blob of a woman named Alvida. His name is Koby, and the journey this mistake would set him on would become one of the greatest legends in Marine history.

The second event occurred much farther away, in a mountain during a horrendous blizzard. Portgas D. Ace, a rookie pirate with an already substantial reputation, met the infamous Red-Haired Shanks for the first time. When their eyes met, a tremble wracked its way down Ace's body, adrenaline forcing sweat out of his pores in copious amounts. And yet, his smile never faltered, and it was this quality that made the infinity more powerful Shanks respect the young pirate. The two captains and their crews had a banquet, during which Ace informed Shanks of his plan to topple Whitebeard. Shanks would relay this information to the great pirate himself just a few days later, accelerating the confrontation and eventually leading to Ace joining Whitebeard's crew. In the years to come, Shanks would deeply regret this decision more then any other.

The peel entered the wastebasket.

"Oi, how much longer do you want us to stay? It's been three days now."

"We'll leave today. I just need to finish my writing."

"You seem to do an awful lot of that."

Volta nodded, and proved Zoro's pointed by only writing faster.

May 10th, 1520

Six days now, though really only five and a half. Got a new pen from one of the Marine orderlies. The feather one I nabbed ran out of ink, and I don't have a bottle to dip it in.

Speaking of which, my tattoos have been on my mind lately. According to Zoro, they protected me from his attacks. Why I have them and how I gained them is unknown to me. I've attempted flexing them out, and when that failed, to will them out by imagining them emerging. That also failed. I then tried shaking my arms and legs, leading to further, minor injury. I will continue trying to understand them later, but I've exhausted every option short of trying to harm myself, which I'm not yet ready to attempt.

That isn't the only thing I've been working on solving. Getting transported here couldn't have been random; there must be some power at work, something with a goal in mind. Am I some sort of key player in a game between deities? I don't really believe so, but there's no way to know for sure.

I'm reminded of Thor, the god of thunder from Norse mythology. I was struck by lightning right before being sent here, which means that the lighting may have been the means of transportation. If I remember correctly, didn't Thor have the power to travel through his lighting? That may have just been in the movies, I'm not sure.

As for the timing of my arrival, that too is quite odd. The final unusual puzzle piece. Two years before the story begins is quite a long time. It's as if this entity wants me to learn as much about this world as I can before the beginning, while being unaware of the events of the story itself.

There's so much I don't know. So much I may never know. Can I accept that?

"I'm done." Volta closed his notebook, slipping it into the bag he had asked for. It appeared identical to Zoro's own; he wondered if the Marines gave them out to all registered hunters. The Marine sigil lay embedded in the cheap leather, and within lay his coin-sized hunter badge, proof of official registry. A dagger and seagull, etched on a piece of silver.

"Prodi's given out a lot more favors then we asked for. I appreciate that."

"Like father like daughter, I suppose." Zoro cleaned his blades methodically, carefully rubbing and oiling each part of the weapons. Then, he clapped his hands together, bowed his head, and reassembled them at a startling pace. Volta watched with fascination as the experienced swordsman slipped the guards through the blades, fastening them to the hilts with a trio of soft clicks.

His work done, he placed the naked swords at his side and began to clean the scabbards. First, he twisted a soft cloth into a thin rope. Then he inserted it into the opening, its length completely swallowed by the scabbard. He shook it, wiped the edges, and pulled it out, covered in dust and slightly damp.

"The beer got in everything," he muttered. "But these are perfect for cleaning. Here." He tossed one to Volta, who folded it up and slipped it into his bag. "Appreciated. How many do you have?"

"About a dozen," Zoro replied. He pulled another from his bag. "Watch carefully." He twisted it again. Volta studied the technique, how he rolled the middle and turned the edges to make the bottom wider and the top thinner. He pointed to the bottom. "This end will soak up the majority of the beer, which pooled at the bottom of your scabbard." He pointed to the thinner. "The other end is for holding. If you rub your fingers together it will hold the cloth in its shape as you wiggle it."

Volta's first attempt partially succeeded; the cloth ends looked good but it didn't hold its shape. He frowned at the dust and wet spots after the cleaning. "Why don't we just turn them upside down and dump the beer out?"

Zoro paused. "I did that days ago," he said. "I assumed that would be obvious enough that it didn't need mentioning."

Volta looked at his cloth again. Indeed, it seemed too damp now. "Sorry." He twirled his own scabbard upside-down and shook it gently. A few droplets came tumbling out. His next cleaning proved far more successful.

"Alright," Zoro sighed, stretching out his arms. "Now, I don't know much about rapiers, but I know more about swords in general. If you don't mind-"

"I do not." Volta handed the blade over. Zoro moved his hands up and down the weapon, feeling gently for areas of weakness. "Hm…this doesn't seem like the kind of sword that can be taken apart, like a katana." He stood up, moved to the middle of the room, and began swinging it, then thrusting. He shook his wrist, causing the blade to vibrate. Then, to his partner's horror, he slammed the hilt onto the edge of his bed. His anger turned to shock as the blow left the sword untouched, and the bed frame dented.

"It's definitely a Great Grade Sword," Zoro whispered. "A truly magnificent weapon."

"I heard you talking about that before," Volta said. "While fighting Albedu. By the way, why do people pause their fighting to talk in this world?"

Zoro looked at him as if he had grown another head. "Your people didn't do that?"

"No."

"Very strange," he muttered. "But anyway, I was referring to the Meito System. The world is full of millions of blades, but only a few hundred are named, revered as legendary, and world-renowned."

"Really?" Volta asked, his mind awhirl. "And my blade is one of them?"

"Most certainly," Zoro confirmed. "I don't know how such a good sword fell into the hands of a thug like Albedu, but it's definitely of the Great Grade. There are twelve Supreme Grade, twenty-one Great Grade, and fifty Skillful Grade, as well as a large number of other named blades that aren't good enough to be considered skillful."

"Do you know them all?"

Zoro frowned. "Only a few." He grabbed his white blade. "This is Wado Ichimonji, another Great Grade Sword. It belonged to my friend before she passed. My other blades aren't even on the Meito system, but they get the job done." He scrunched up his forehead. "I believe Mihawk has a Supreme Grade, but I don't know its name. Or the name of your sword."

Volta retrieved it, staring in contemplation. "It's gonna be hard for you to beat this Mihawk guy if he has a sword that's better than yours."

Zoro grinned. "I'm not worried. It's not just the sword that determines the fight. Otherwise a baby with my Wado could beat a Marine with a cutlass. It's about training, dedication, and skill, and I've got all three."

"Well, don't get overconfident," Volta warned. "You called him a thug, but Albedu was no joke. He would have won if I hadn't intervened."

That wiped the smile from the swordsman's face,. He grimaced but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. I never thanked you for that. Or for the time you saved me from Albedya either." He flopped back onto the bed, his eyes looking beyond the ceiling. "Damn…training, dedication, and skill, but there's still a long way to go…"

He jumped up from his slump, eyes alight. "Then I'll just have to increase all three of those," he stated. "I'm going out to the mountains to train. Want to join me?"

Volta nodded, leaping to his feet and immediately staggering. "Ugh, my head still feels light."

"We'll get some water on the way," Zoro replied. "Come on, we gotta get you used to your weapon!" He turned to the door, but before opening it, be turned back to his partner, the look in his eyes hard and merciless. "I'm warning you…I take the sword seriously. I expect you to do the same, or I won't train you. And don't expect me to go easy on you either."

Damian grinned, his teeth flashing. "I've never been acquainted with easy; I don't expect to meet her today, tomorrow, or in a thousand years."

Zoro laughed. "That's the spirit!"

.~===)==============={%}

Beer Town fell behind them, as the two hunters took a well-worn path up to the mountains. Sparse greenery and rocky hills surrounded them, and as the road twisted through the new scenery, the town fell out of sight completely. Even the ocean became obscured.

"According to this pamphlet," Zoro explained, holding aloft a thin paper. "This place is called the Echo Change Range."

"Hm," Volta hummed. He stopped walking, took in a deep breath, and shouted, "HELLO!"

"HELLO!"

His eyes grew wide. "Bloody…that was a woman's voice!"

Zoro laughed. His laughter reverberated as that of an old man's. "I'm not sure how it works, but it's pretty cool."

Volta nodded. "We should keep our voices down; it's kind of unnerving me."

"IS THAT SO!?"

"IS THAT SO!?" The echo squeaked. Volta scowled, reminded of the singing chipmunks he had briefly heard over an English radio.

Heavy footsteps sounded from behind the next bend. Both hunters tensed, but as the figure emerged, they felt their jaws go slack. For it was no man.

A giant brown bear walked toward them. He moved on his hind legs, his left paw clutched around a walking staff cut from a branch. His stride flowed with the grace of one who has walked the earth, and his eyes peered out wisely from furry brows.

Said gaze began to harden on the two hunters. He stopped in his tracks, rose his staff, and brought it down with a thud. Zoro moved his hands to his swords, and Volta did the same.

"Zoro, what is that?" Volta questioned.

"A Hiking Bear," Zoro answered. "I've heard about them, but I've never seen one in person before." He smiled, and the hungry glint in his eyes left a sinking feeling in Volta's gut. "And that means I've never fought one before."

The bear's frown deepened. He pointed at the two hunters, then lowered his finger toward the ground.

"Does he want us to crouch?" Volta asked.

"To bow," Zoro replied. "You're supposed to bow to a passing Hiking Bear."

Volta did just that, removed his hand from his hilt and bowing to the bipedal animal. It nodded its head with a grunt of acknowledgement, before turned his full attention onto the obstinate Zoro.

"I don't bow easily," the swordsman stated confidently. "You'll have to fight me for it."

"I thought we were going to the mountains to train!"

"We are! Go run to the tallest one, climb it, and run back here!" His insane command delivered, Zoro blazed forward, his blades out and ready for slicing.

The bear watched him charge forward with a bored expression.

"ONI GIRI!"

The three blades crashed into the staff. A small shockwave shook the hills, the clanging sound transforming into a clown honk as it echoed.

Volta watched the two fight for barely a minute before deciding to take Zoro's order seriously. We ripped off the bottom halves of his pants legs, then the sleeves of his white shirt. He stretched to the sounds of battle, set down his sword on a rock near the fight, and took off down the path, barking and whoopee cushions echoing behind him.

Soon the echoes faded, and Volta was left with the sounds of his own breathing in his ears. His legs propelled him forward, faster than he had ever been before. The hills and trees flew by him, and the wind battered his face and arms.

Blue sky. Tan stone. A mountain before him, vast and without mercy. Faster and faster he ran, past the trees and bushes, past the streams and falls, past the deer and the squirrels.

Another Hiking Bear, smaller than the first, appeared before him. Volta lowered his body, never breaking stride. The Bear seemed to accept this; its fur blew back as Volta ran past.

The mountain grew closer. Thousands of edges and dips, places to grab and jump off of. Far from perfectly vertical. Volta laughed; this would be a piece of cake.

His pace slackened, then quickened, and he was jumping off the hills, leaping toward a shortcut he had spied. Brambles clawed at him, his clothing catching here and there but never tearing. He kept running, ignoring the stinging scratches and the soreness in his muscles.

At last he stopped, heaving and staring. The mountain lay before him in all its glory, rays of light poking out from its tip. Volta took only a minute to rest, and soon he was moving again, slowly and carefully, up the slopes of the great rock.

.~===)==============={%}

The wind whipped at Volta's body. His bloody hands continued to mechanically reach, grab, and hoist, his eyes scanning for more leverage points.

His deep regret over undertaking this ridiculous task had already come and gone. Now all he felt was determination. The summit lay just beyond his sight, but he knew it had to be close. The drop seemed endless, even with the ground visible at the end of it.

Volta's muscles surged with energy and agony, the two feelings colliding into each other as he pulled himself up another foot of rough, biting rock. And another. And another.

A sudden crash rang out in the distance, the sound faint but distinct. Volta wondered if the echoing still worked if he was this high up the mountain. Shouldn't the sound have changed into a squeak or something? he thought.

A soft roar sounded, then another crash. Then silence. Had the battle ended? Volta pushed such thoughts from his mind. He had his own battle to finish. With a groan, he pulled himself higher still.

His sweat-soaked form finally found rest on a ledge just twenty feet from the top. He lay upon it, gasping for breath, his bloody hands scratching at his itchy, gooesebump-coated legs.

And to top it all off, his face muscles hurt from smiling so much.

His rest only lasted a minute, and soon he was dragging himself up the last twenty feet of mountain. His arms jumped and bulged, and he felt as if his rib cage had ripped in half. But onward he pressed.

"GAAAAAH!" with a final, superhuman effort, he flopped forward onto the summit. He rolled himself over and forced his legs from the edge. The wind truly tore at him now, its icy blasts slicing into his unprotected forearms and calves. The pain was excruciating.

And all at once, it stopped.

Volta gasped and sputtered, choking on his own spit in his shock. He spat onto the rocks and forced himself up, abs straining under the action. He sat for a few minutes, giving his body a rest after the arduous afternoon climb.

When he felt his strength return, he shakily began to stand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Volta slumped over, his head dangerously close to the edge. Rolling over again, he turned his eyes in the direction of the one who had spoken.

There wasn't much to see. The figure's back was turned, his form completely shrouded by a dark green cloak. He stood facing the horizon, the light shining around him further darkening his appearance. A soft wind fluttered the bottom of his coat, and the top of his hood.

"I watched you. Impressive, but foolhardy. Just like your green-haired friend below."

"What can I say," Volta snarked. "We're young and foolish."

"That much is obvious," the man stated, equally sarcastic. His voice sounded gruff to Volta's ears, but there was something deeper in it. An age and wisdom that bellied mere gruffness. Or perhaps he only thought he heard wisdom. His head felt light at the moment.

"Your friend won, by the way," the man continued. "He's a mass of welts and claw marks right now, but the bear got worse off. And then, when it fell, do you know what he did?"

Volta felt relief well up in him. "Probably finished the damn thing off."

"Ha! Not even close!" The man sounded deeply amused. "He bowed to it, and continued on his way! Shishishishi!"

The young hunter smirked, the odd but carefree laughter lowering his guard. "Zoro doesn't bow easily, especially when he's supposed to. I haven't known him long, but I know that much about him."

"Zoro," the man repeated, as if feeling how the word sounded in his mouth. "I like that name. It's a name fit for a warrior. What's yours?"

"Damian Volta."

"Hmm." The man clicked his tongue. Or at least, Volta thought he did. "I've never heard of such a name. Where do you hail?"

"Somewhere lost to war," Volta replied honestly. "Somewhere that will never be found again."

The man nodded. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his tone somber. "If I had known, perhaps…" He fell silent. The wind around him grew stronger.

"You wouldn't have been able to do anything." Volta comforted. "My land was beyond anyone's help."

The cloaked figure nodded, his back still facing the young survivor. "Hope you don't think the same about yourself."

Volta frowned, slowly getting to his feet again. His legs shook with exhaustion, but his curiosity overrode them. "Who are you," he whispered. "And more importantly, who do you think you are, to say something like that?"

The shoulders of the figure rose and fell in a shrug. "I know people," he stated softly. "And you sound like the kind of person who's desperate for something. Something to fill a void in your soul."

Volta growled, walking faster as he crossed the tip of the mountain. "Now wait just a minute, you bas-"

A sudden wind knocked him off balance, and he collapsed onto the rock. He growled again, and tried to stand, but the wind gusted from behind, throwing him down.

"Sorry," the man said, and he really did sound sorry. "I don't want you to see my face. I doubt you'll report me to your boss, but a guy like me needs to take precautions."

"I don't have a boss," Volta stated flatly. "And you have powers, just like that beer guy I fried. Did you eat a magical fruit as well?"

"Thanks for taking care of Albedya," the man continued, as if he hadn't heard the question. "The man was a cancer, a virus. Beer Town is better off without him."

Volta sat cross-legged, trying to burn a hole into the figure's back with his eyes.

"And you do have a boss," the man continued. "The same boss that rules over almost every one of this planet's three billion inhabitants. And if it doesn't rule, it enslaves. Or kills."

"The World Government," Volta whispered. The man made no motions, his figure darkening as the sun continued to descend. Slowly, the younger man tried to rise again, and found no resistance. He shakily stumbled toward the man, peering ahead of him over the mountaintop.

Streaks of red and purple colored the navy sky, illuminated by a small, orange half-circle, itself deepening and shrinking under the horizon. With Beer Town behind them, the other side of the mountain cascaded down toward a vast, glittering sea, sparking crimson and orange before the majestic sunset.

"It's beautiful," the man whispered. "So beautiful."

Volta nodded. "It is."

The sun continued to shrink, turning magenta, before finally winking out, taking most of the light with it. Stars glittered in the vast expanse. The wind died completely.

"Let me ask you again," Volta spoke softly. "Who are you?"

They were side by side now, but the hood covered too much. All Volta could make out was a warm, hearty smile. "Just a dreamer," he said. "A patient dreamer, waiting for the world to awaken."

The man turned his head a fraction of an inch, and a second detail became visible. A cold, calculating eye. "Who are you?"

Volta didn't respond immediately. His thoughts swirled with new information and theories, ideas and calculations. But he put it all aside and focused on the question.

Who was he?

A cold-hearted assassin? A righteous vigilante? A scattered survivor?

"…I can't answer you," he responded. "Because I'm not entirely sure."

"Shishishishi! I like your honestly," the man laughed. "But you better find out soon. Only those who know will be able to withstand what's coming."

"What?"

The smile grew wider. "The awakening."

And without a further word, the man fell forward, right off the edge of the cliff. Volta stared after him in disbelief as the wind roared in his ears. His disbelief only increased as the man vanished, as if he had never been.

"Bloody christmas balls," he swore softly to himself. "Is everyone in this world a nutjob?"

.~===)==============={%}

No more wind whipped at Volta that night. Soon after the bizarre departure, Zoro hoisted himself up the mountain, just as battered as he had expected him to be. Four swords sat snug in his haramaki, and a walking staff lay clenched within his teeth.

He spat it out, took one of his black-hilted blades, and chopped it to pieces. He unsheathed another and ran them across each other, creating a spark that ignited the wood.

"Instant campfire," Volta grinned. "I like it."

"I don't," Zoro grumbled. "It's murder on my swords. Should have brought my flint and steel."

Volta sat next to his disgruntled partner. "Guess you didn't expect us to be out here this long."

"I wasn't expecting anything," Zoro admitted. "Except for pain." He grinned and winced at the same time. "Found it."

Volta winced as well, his own muscles throbbing and his lungs still burning. "Did you bring any water at least?"

Zoro nodded, pulling two glass bottles out of his haramaki. He tossed one to Volta, who uncorked it and sipped slowly.

"Smart," Zoro commented. "Don't want to throw it all up later." Then he proceeded to down his own water in three seconds flat.

Volta felt the all-too familiar sweat drop. "You have an amazing talent for ignoring your own advice," he snarked.

"Stomach training," Zoro grunted. "Have to strengthen…everything…possible…"

Volta rolled his eyes and continued to drink slowly. When the fire burned low, Volta tore off his shirt and added it to the wood. Zoro did the same, removing and then retying his bandana in the process.

"I met someone up here," he stated casually.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Strange fellow, couldn't really make out his face too well. He had the ability to control wind."

"Wind control…" Zoro repeated, rubbing his stomach as he did so. "Did he make his cape flutter dramatically?"

Volta laughed, reigniting the inferno in his lungs. "So that's what he was doing!"

Zoro spit up his water. "Hahaha, really? I was just being sarcastic!"

Volta laughed even harder. "He looked like a giant rag! A rag with teeth and long speeches!"

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

"FFFPAHAHAHA!"

Tears poured out of Volta's eyes, and his stomach cramped horribly. Zoro threw up the water he had tried to hold down, still laughing the whole time. The sight of it just made Volta laugh harder, so hard that he fell forward, his whole body shaking.

"Fffpahahaha, man, I wish you had been up here."

"Hahahaha, I'm starting to wish that to, and your hair's on fire!"

Zoro wiped his mouth and took a deep breath. Then he did a double-take.

"AAAAH, YOUR HAIR'S ON FIRE!"

"AAAAAAAAAAH!"

"AAAAAAAAAAH!"

Volta dropped to the ground, rolling vigorously. Unfortunately, this only placed his tattered pant leg a bit too close to the dying flame.

"AAAAH, NOW YOUR LEG IS ON FIRE!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Zoro experienced the strange sensation of screaming and laughing at the same time. His panicked mirth did little to help Volta's situation, but thankfully the hunter was able to pat out the flames before they did too much damage. He fell onto his back with a groan.

As the smoke cleared, Zoro roared. A triangle of singed skin shone right above Volta's forehead, an inversed widow's peak where his hair had begun. Damn you

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! I've heard of early receding lines, but nothing like this! You look like someone tried to clip your bangs with a cookie cutter!"

"Verdammt nochmal," Volta seethed, wincing as he poked the burned area.

"No, worse! It looks like you tried to twirl your blade to show off, but you lawn-mowed yourself in the attempt!"

Volta's pale complexion turned red.

"Alright, alright," Zoro wheezed, his face far redder. "I'm done."

Volta sighed in exasperation. "Thank you."

"I will note, however," the swordsman continued mischievously, "My disappointment that you didn't lean in a bit more. Could have had a reverse mohawk going."

Volta punched him in the face. He landed backward with a thud, his hair dangerously close to the embers. All the glee drained from his features, as the incensed hunter grabbed him by the shoulders. "No, wait!" Zoro cried in alarm. "Don't you dare-"

"I dare."

"NOOOOOO!"

.~===)==============={%}

The night grew hot, but that suited the two hunters just fine. The moon and the stars illuminated the summit, giving them light even as the last ember died out.

Zoro rubbed his new bald spot with a sigh. "I suppose it's what I deserve. Once we get back to the base, I'll buy something to fix our hair."

"I'm not that concerned," Volta said. "If teeth can regrow, so can hair, I suppose."

Crickets chirped in the distance. Zoro yawned and stretched like a cat, staring at the sky with a peaceful smile on his face. "Yeah."

Volta watched the moon rise ever so slowly across the sky. "It's beautiful," he whispered. "What a sight."

"I suppose," Zoro commented. "You sound like you've never seen the moon before."

"Haven't in a while," Volta reminded.

Zoro nodded, frowning in thought. "True…you know, occasionally, a second moon appears."

Volta nodded, his eyes widening a bit at the idea. "Yeah, I know."

"No you don't," Zoro stated. "Because there is no second moon. It's only a half-baked theory cooked up by half-wit astrologists. Some of them think there's as many of five moons in the sky, all circulating around at different times."

The swordsman turned to Volta, his face stern but not unkind. And yet, the slightly older hunter still found himself withering under the expression. "Zoro-"

"It's alright," he continued gruffly. "I knew from the onset that your story had some holes. I didn't dwell on it too much because of how genuine you seemed to be otherwise."

Volta said nothing.

"Heh, it's funny," Zoro whispered. "I thought it would be hard for me to have to rely on someone again, after all this time. But that wasn't the case at all." He smiled softly. "It's nice, having someone to talk to. Someone to travel with."

A warm breeze blew over the summit. "Yeah," Volta agreed. "I feel the same."

As the moon rose ever higher, Volta promised himself he would tell Zoro the truth one day. Maybe soon, but one day.

With this thought resting on his mind, Volta drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Zoro remained awake, his thoughts dipping into the gloom of the past. "Kuina," he murmured. "I've made a friend. I think he's gonna help us achieve our dream." He turned to stare at Volta one more time. He didn't snore. He didn't even seem to breathe. His body appeared to hold all the life of a corpse.

"I wonder if we can help him the same way." With this last utterance, Zoro too fell into sleep's embrace.

.~===)==============={%}

The Wind Granma coasted through the light-reflecting water. Beer Town vanished, a speck behind the sails no more.

The man watched it disappear, then looked up at the stars.

"Soon," he muttered. "So very, very soon…"

.~===)==============={%}

"Nice picture," Volta commented. He scanned the recently delivered newspaper, while Zoro paid the seagull that had done the delivering. The bird wore a white hat and a small bag full of the rolled-up news, equipped with a large side-pocket for money. Volta watched the bird fly away, joining its brethren in the sky.

"They're called news coos," Zoro explained. "All newspapers use them for delivering to ships and boathouses."

"What a charming idea," Volta said. "Though I bet it's not very efficient during bad weather."

Zoro nodded. "That does keep people behind sometimes, but the coos are quick to get people up to date when the weather clears. Ah, we're here!"

And indeed, they were. They had seen and heard the Kingdom from afar, but now it stretched before them, a three-island archipelago filled with the sound of chickens. Volta realized with some amusement that it was the third food-themed location he had been to so far.

Tamago, like many words and names found around the world, comes from the Tongue of Wano, the language spoken in Wano Kuni. The land possesses a unique, intriguing culture, and holds fast to an isolationist policy, designed to keep foreign peoples from influencing it in any way.

This policy has worked, but, unbeknownst to the people of Wano, it has also done the exact opposite of their fears. The country's exotic nature has led many to copy its elements, and hundreds of discreet, illegal visitations to the land and back have spread those elements, until they have become almost universally recognized. For example, Marine Headquarters, the largest and most important facility for Marine activity worldwide, is styled after an ancient Wano pagoda, it's vast walls covered with Wano letters, known as Kanji.

In this specific instance, tamago is Wano's word for egg, which coincidentally, happens to be one of the few words of Japanese Volta knows. The Kingdom's history is rather macabre, a long list of bloody coups, bloodier beheadings, and the bloodiest, cruelest egg-eating contest in the East Blue's recent memory.

This last event took place in 1435, when King Avgó was challenged to the contest by his cousin, the Earl of Yokington. The challenge was to consume uncooked eggs until one could do so no more, and the prize was the throne itself. Avgó agreed to the challenge, and the two faced off in Yokington square, each before a table piled high with the eggs.

The contest lasted for three hours, neither opponent backing down, hundreds upon hundreds of eggs consumed. In his haste to beat his opponent, Avgó decided to start swallowing eggs whole, shell and all, trusting his well-tuned digestive system to do the work for him. This was a fatal error. Not because he couldn't swallow them, or couldn't digest them, but because Avgó had trusted his cousin.

For you see, amongst the eggs on Avgó's table, were several fertilized ones near the bottom, filled not with yoke but with chicks about to hatch. But not ordinary chicks, oh no, these were the chicks of the vile Chickantazors, hideous snake-like creatures that dwelled in the rocks under the kingdom. When Avgó swallowed one of these eggs, the chick reacted, bursting out of its shell and eating the contents of his stomach, before consuming the stomach lining and burrowing into his intestines. Then, when it had hollowed out the foolish king, it ripped itself out of his crotch and was immediately killed by Yokington soldiers. The Earl took the throne after slaughtering Avgó's family, and his line has ruled since that day.

Volta, not knowing this horrid history, was instead interested in geography. The Kingdom stretched itself over three small islands, each one elevated by tall yellow rock surrounded by white sand; if viewed from above, the archipelago looked like three eggs in the sunny-side-up fashion. On these rocks squatted large cities, connected by white arching bridges adorned with eggs and skillets sculped from marvel. The buildings of the cities themselves, formed from white stone, had a similarly rounded shape, but unlike Lettuce Town the greenery was kept to a minimum, relegated to the small lawns and grassy lots that blanketed the outcroppings. Many of the buildings seemed to hang off the sides of the steep yellow cliffs, a long drop to the sand below, where thousands of chickens clucked and ate, divided into farming lots that surrounded the cities.

The docks sat downward from the closest city, a large staircase hewn from the rock leading up into it. Zoro folded the newspaper and tucked it into his haramaki, before walking down the gangplank. Volta grabbed the thick leather suitcase beside him and moved down after him, his rapier in his other hand.

Both hunters walked across the wooden platforms of the harbor, right above a sea of birds that rattled their eardrums. The both grabbed some earplugs from a vendor, only a hundred berries each. It didn't silence the birds, but it quieted them enough for the hunters to walk in peace.

"Finally, we're where we need to be," Zoro said, rolling his shoulder until it cracked. His injuries had fully healed, barring his stomach scar, and Volta was the same.

"Can't believe we got laid up for three days," Volta continued. "We only have about a week left to get this damn tree."

Zoro shrugged. "No use complaining. We have more than enough money for it."

"Yeah, almost twenty million. In hindsight, we might not have been able to afford it if we had come straight here. We don't even know how much a Tamago Tree costs."

"I can tell you that," a young man stated from behind them. Volta and Zoro turned.

A man stood before them, though Volta couldn't remember seeing him on the passenger ship. He wore a navy-blue suit with a white button up underneath, the top opened and tieless. He had a handsome face and seemed about as old as Zoro. He stared intently with grey-blue eyes, though one was hidden by a sweep of blonde hair. Interestingly, his right eyebrow formed an outward spiral. Volta wondered if it did that naturally.

"The tree venders are on the edge of the market," he drawled, pointing toward the left bridge. "Right beside the Omelet Overlook." Sure enough, a small forest sprouted just in front of the vast construct.

Volta frowned in thought, not just on the directions, but on the sound of the words themselves. The man sounded about as American as Zoro himself but tinged with a slight French accent. He looked French too, in complete contrast with Zoro, who looked Japanese.

Of course, Volta knew neither country existed in this world. Ocha, or Tybalt, must have drawn from those places. He wondered if a strange, fantastical version of Austria existed.

The thought sent a pang of homesickness through him, but a shake on the shoulder from Zoro knocked him out of it. The 'French' man looked impatient; Volta noticed a large suitcase of his own in his left hand.

"Sorry," he spoke softly. "Thank you for your directions. My name is Damian Volta. Bounty hunter." He shook the man's hand; it felt soft yet calloused, as if it had been moisturized.

"Roronoa Zoro, also a hunter" the swordsman grunted, his eyes wary. He too shook the man's hand.

"Sanji," the man replied, looking a bit wary himself. "Sous chef of the Baratie."

"Just Sanji?" Volta inquired.

For just the briefest of moments, something seemed to shift in the chef's behavior. His eyes chilled, and his smile twitched. It lasted less than a second. "Just Sanji."

Volta merely nodded. "You look like you're here on official business."

Sanji relaxed. "Yeah. Getting eggs and new spoons for the restaurant, on orders from the shitty geezer who runs it."

Damian didn't dare correct his language.

"Have you been here before?" Zoro asked.

"Twice," Sanji responded. "With the geezer and without him. I can show you around if you want."

Zoro was about to decline, but Volta stopped him with a glare. He had a feeling letting Zoro lead would be dangerous. "Thanks, we'll take you up on that."

The three young men walked up the stone stairs together, Sanji in the lead by a step. "This road takes you directly to the main plaza. There's a fountain there; take the road directly left of it and you'll get to the Tamago Trees."

"Does every island in this sea have a fountain?" Volta asked bemusedly.

"No, I've been to a few without them," Zoro responded. "But I see them more often than not. Why, do they bother you?"

"Not at all," Volta amended. "It's just interesting. Now that I think about it, I've yet to see a globe."

Zoro frowned. "Now that I think about it, I've never laid eyes on one either."

"Seriously?!" Votla sputtered. "Didn't you learn geography in your dojo?"

The swordsman shrugged. "Not too much of it. I can name the five oceans and the continent, but I don't know much about the ones I'm not living in."

"Well, I know less then you; Austria was isolated, remember?"

Zoro nodded, his brow scrunched up in remembering. "This is the way my sensei taught me. Imagine a ball, perfectly round and blue. Now, wrap a red, jagged belt across it. Then wrap two white, straight belts perpendicular to the red belt. The red belt it the continent, the Red Line, and the space between the two white belts is the fifth ocean, the Grand Line. The four parts it separates the ball into are the first four oceans, the Blues."

Volta understood perfectly; the image filled him with awe. "Incredible…a planet of ocean…"

Sanji gave him a strange look but made no comment.

"Exactly," Zoro continued, genuinely delighted he had made sense. "We're in the East Blue right now, and we can't travel to the others because of the Grand and Red Lines."

The paler hunter nodded, then frowned. "I assume the Red Line is impassable, otherwise you'd say we could just travel over it on foot."

Zoro nodded.

"But what's stopping us from passing through the Grand Line?"

The swordsman paused, considerate. He shook his head. "Don't know. All I know about the Grand Line is that it's the place Roger hid his treasure, and that it's called the Pirates Graveyard because it's hard to traverse."

"Hmm…the World Government, I'm sure they have a capital. Where is it located?"

"On the Red Line. According to my sensei, it's sheer, red rock, higher than any mountain. But the Government found a way, and now no one can attack them there."

"That's brilliant," Volta complimented. "An unreachable seat of power and a worldwide military force? How long has it been around?"

Zoro shrugged again. "Can't say. Don't know what the capital is called either. Like I said, I wasn't really into that kind of stuff."

"You don't give yourself enough credit," Volta chuckled. "At least I know where I am. What's the capital of the East Blue?"

Zoro shook his head. "Doesn't work like that; the World Government is in charge, but most places largely run themselves without interference. There are thousands of islands in the East, but only a few are full-fledged countries that get representation."

Volta scowled. "Thousands of tax-paying islands, but only a few legitimate countries. Taxation without representation is what led to a lot of conflict in the history of…my own island."

"I hate to interrupt your shitty geography lesson," Sanji said without any heat. "But we're at the top of the stairs."

And indeed, they were.

.~===)==============={%}

While the three young men began their journey into the Tamago Kingdom, two very different figures lay within its midst, engaged in a game of target practice.

PINK!

"I'm worried."

PINK!

"You're always worried."

PINK!

"No, this time, I'm really worried."

PINK!

"Those hunters?"

PINK!

"Hell yeah those hunters! They got the Bowi Family, and not just a few of 'em, the whole fucking flock!"

PINK!

"That was in Beer Town. Doubt they'll come here."

PINK!

"You don't know that."

He flicked another marble, the rhythmic sound of the clinking soothing his anxious mind. But not this time; it bounced off the side of the wastebasket with an eerie BONG, rolling on the ground and disappearing under a cabinet. He swore.

"Calm yourself," his friend said. "Think rationally. Yeah, we're pretty close to Beer Town, less then a day's travel, but so is Sorbet Town. And Lettuce Town is only a little farther. They could go to those places too. And besides…"

He flicked another shot, much harder than he had before. It punctured the side of the front door with a THUD. "They won't last against us."

The first flicker continued searching under the cabinet, his arm squeezed by the tight space. "Albedya had one of those magic vegetables some guys won't fuckin shut up about, and he still fuckin lost! We ain't got shit but these balls, man!"

"Fruits, Copasta, fruits. Who told you they were vegetables?"

Copasta rose to his feet. Tall, thin, and very gangly, his red business suit hung off of him limply. His tie had bowling balls imprinted on it, and his hair was a shock of red, spiked and expertly greased. His face seemed to leer, even as he spoke fearfully. "Dammit old man, you ain't taking this seriously! We have a serious fuckin problem here! Two hunters just took down one of the biggest bosses in this part of the East and are now loose to do it again. Those fuckers are strong; we need to protect our turf in case they strike us!"

"We don't even have any turf, you fool," Horasha responded. A much shorter, much smarter man then his compatriot, his blue blazer seemed stretched to the breaking point. The large bulbous nose on his face obscured his undersized mouth; to those facing him directly, he looked like he was speaking from his nostrils. "We're assassins."

"Don't give me that crap!" Copasta spit out. "We've been squatting in this fuckin kingdom for months now! Who are we even supposed ta be killing, huh?!"

"He up and died on his own," Horasha replied gruffly. "Heart attack. Now we're just waiting for a new job to come in."

As if he had summoned the messenger himself, a knock rang on the door. Immediately a pocket knife slipped into Copasta's fingers. Horasha jumped down from the table and waddled over to the door, peeking out of the hole he had made in it. "Who's there?"

"Your Aunt Grandma Kitty-Kat."

"Kitty with a K?"

"K-K."

Horasha glared at Copasta, now looking very sheepish. "Speak of the Devil," he muttered, before tapping three times on the door. A slip of paper slid under it, and the messenger started to walk away.

Horasha picked up the paper and unfolded it, reading carefully. His eyes widened. "I owe you an apology, Copasta."

His own eyes bulging, the anxious assassin grabbed the paper and scanned it. "Oh shit!" he bellowed. "Oh shit!"

"Keep your voice down," Horasha commanded. "And stop acting like a fool. This is what we've been waiting for, and we'll do it without question."

"I hate our job," Copasta whimpered.

His partner sighed, feeling a bit more compassionate. "Hey, don't be down on yourself. You're a great assassin; the best in this kingdom, at least."

Copasta perked up. "Better then you, dad?"

Horasha chuckled. "Yeah, once you cool off. Don't despair; fruit or no fruit, it's just a couple of snot-nosed brats, even younger then you. Let's get'im."

The younger assassin grinned, then reached over and grabbed his bag of marbles. "Yer right…I'm getting too stressed about nuthin. We'll fuckin paint the town with 'em!"

"We need to be discreet," Horasha reminded. "They're young, fresh hunters who probably got lucky with Albedya…I bet the Marines did most of the work. Hell, the only reason we know that they did him in is because the coroner there let us know. According to this note, they're here for a Tamago Tree; we'll pose as guides and lead them into an alley. There, we finish them, marbles to the brains."

Copasta snickered darkly, three little, metallic balls rolling in his fingers already. "Whatever you say dad."

The father burned the note, and the duo left their apartment on the edge of town, diving into the bustling city with murder on their minds.

.~===)==============={%}

Speaking of the city, it seemed to surround the three young men entering it, like a runny egg around a piece of fruit on the breakfast plate. But unlike the industrial and claustrophobic Beer Town, Tamago had enough space to walk around comfortably, unhindered by large mobs of citizens and workers. The yellow stone had been smoothed over, dozens of lovely white buildings built comfortably on it. The squawk of the chickens had been reduced to almost pleasant background noise.

Still, Volta noted a few with patios that hovered over the great yellow cliffs, children playing on them blissfully. It sent a shiver down his spine; he had never been a fan of heights, especially ones that exceeded five hundred meters. He breathed heavily from the long walk up.

"…hmmm." Zoro glared at the back of Sanji's head. Eventually, the chef noticed, much to his frustration. "Got a problem?"

"Not really," the swordsman muttered. "It's just…that eyebrow…I feel like I've seen it before."

The guide became very rigid, his face turning to stone. His left foot started tapping the ground. "…yeah? Where exactly have you seen it?"

Zoro continued to stare, Sanji staring right back with a look that might have killed a lesser man. The foot started tapping even faster.

"Yes, I definitely recognize it. Only one kind of person would have that kind of eyebrow."

Sanji's eyes shone with a cold fire. He started to raise his foot…

"You're a hypnotist, aren't you?"

And dropped it with an audible thud. The look of barely suppressed rage flooded out of him, replaced with a distinctly natural expression. He gave Zoro an even flatter stare then before. "Damn…you got me."

Zoro blinked. "I did?"

"I am really Sanjino, Master of the Mind. I can peer into your soul and strangle it with my own. My power over matter cannot be rivaled by the strongest man."

The swordsman could barely contain his shock. "Really?"

"HELL NO, YOU SHITTY MOSSHEAD!" SLAM!

"AAAH! THAT HURT, YOU STUPID CURLY-BROW!"

Volta, continuing to stare at the ocean from one of the city's breathtaking balconies, failed to notice the intense rivalry born that day. He certainly noticed a fair number of lumps and bruises when he resumed walking with them toward the city square, but he didn't make any comments. He had the feeling it would be unwise.

.~===)==============={%}

Deeper into the city they traveled, Sanji and Zoro now getting into arguments every five minutes or so. Volta tuned them out, content to watch the city for possible dangers. He felt relieved as they walked further toward the center of the great elevated rock, away from the edges. The more relaxed he became, the more observant he grew of the city around him.

Most of the buildings were made from the same material he had guessed earlier, white marble, but a few had the look of painted stone. The streets had become tiled fifty feet from the stairs, the naturally yellow rock now covered with a colorful array of squares.

The dress of the people was uniformly white, yellow, and orange, arranged into tunics and long dresses that reached just short of sandal-covered feet. Foreigners walked the streets in large numbers as well, many wearing more traditional modern clothing, such as jeans, hoodies, and even the occasional tank-top. Two men in particular, one much older than the other, wore business attire, a blue blazer and red suit respectively.

A couple of barking dogs ran under a cow-pulled cart on the left side of the road, a cat scurrying over the roof ledges ahead of them. Volta watched the agile creature leap from building to building, a graceful feline unbothered by the snarling creatures below it.

"MEOOW!"

The sudden cry, coupled with the jerk of its body, caused Volta to stop in his tracks, staring it horror as the animal fell to the ground, trailing blood in the air above it. It hit with a thud, it's skull audibly cracking on the hard tiles. A few nearby children screamed. They screamed even louder when the dogs started tearing into the corpse.

"Damn," Sanji muttered, looking sorrowed by the sight. "Unlucky bastard. Hope his last meal wasn't shitty garbage…"

Zoro continued to stare as Sanji walked onward, his face as serious as when he had stared death in face at Beer Town. "Volta-"

"Yeah," the hunter affirmed. "That was no accident. Its body shook, and when it fell blood was already pouring out."

"It got shot," Zoro growled. "What kind of bastard shoots a cat?"

"The kind that doesn't care about life," Volta said. "And if the shooter is willing to murder a cat for no reason…"

"He or she may see humans as animals too," Zoro finished. "That's kind of a leap though. Could have just been some kid. Some of them can be really cruel before they mature."

"Don't think so," Volta continued. He and Zoro started walking again, then running briefly so they could catch up with Sanji. "The body jerked up and from the side. A diagonal shot, from that distance, strong enough to blow a hole through a cat? Noiselessly?"

"Kid would have to have fantastic aim," Zoro thought. "A slingshot maybe?"

"Stretched that much, I feel like we would have heard it," Volta figured.

Zoro shook his head. "It couldn't have been thrown."

Volta nodded in agreement. "I'm not sure, but someone very dangerous is in this city."

"Do you think it has anything to do with us?" Zoro asked.

"No, I don't. But that's always a possibility. We took out Albedya, but it's unlikely he operated completely outside the larger criminal underworld of this area, despite his secrecy. So, if he had friends, such as fellow bosses he played cards with perhaps, it would stand to reason those bosses would want Albedya's killers dead."

Zoro rubbed his forehead. "Damn, this is a hell of a lot more complicated than just tracking down purse-snatchers."

"Excuse me," someone said from behind the two of them. Volta and Zoro turned. Before them were the two men Volta had spotted before, the young one in the red suit and the older one in the blazer. They looked relaxed, their hands in their pockets. "You two seem lost. Have you been here before?"

"Nope," Zoro replied. "But we've already gotta guide, that bastard up ahead."

Sanji muttered something coarse under his breath, but he nodded in agreement. "Very kind of you two to offer that, but I've got these shitty guys covered." He smiled pleasantly. "You can go about your business."

The older man shrugged with a smile of his own. "Just trying to be a good neighbor. Come on Copasta, I believe the trees are up ahead."

Volta blinked. "Trees? Say, we're looking to buy a tree too!"

"Really?" the older man guffawed. "Yutyutyut, what a coincidence!"

Zoro nodded. "Sure is. Wanna join us?"

"Don't see why not," the older fellow said. "My name is Yut-Yot Horasha. This here is my son, Copasta." The younger man smiled in greeting, though it looked a bit eerie. His face is shaped oddly, Volta thought.

Sanji shrugged. "Whatever. I need to stop and get some eggs at the town square, you all can follow the left road from there, kay?"

"Sure, bud." Copasta stated gruffly, his smile looking even more strained. His hands sunk deeper into his pockets. "Lead the way."

The five of them continued forward, the father-son duo waddling and swaggering right beside the hunters. Sanji pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting up while muttering to himself about 'shitty tagalongs.' Volta politely ignored him.

"I've been to the Tamago Kingdom plenty of times in the past," Horasha explained. "It's beautiful this time of year, with spring in full bloom. Just look at all those flowers." He pointed toward a cavalcade of pink and purple verbenas.

"They're nice," Volta agreed. "Though I do wonder how safe it is to build houses so close to the edge of the cliffs."

"Oh, they're safe enough," Copasta answered. "The kids learn quick not to do anything too stupid."

Volta pursed his lips. "Kids are rambunctious little daredevils. I'm not sure I agree with that statement."

"What, ya gonna argue with a veteran Tamago visitor?" Copasta sneered.

"Copa, please," Horasha reprimanded. "Don't be rude."

Copasta squeezed his eyes shut, before exhaling loudly. "Sorry," he said in a semi-sincere tone. "I've been here many times, I ain't never heard of any kids falling off the cliffs to their deaths. That's all I meant."

Volta nodded. "I understand. Thank you for explaining."

"Sure."

Sanji and Zoro had by this time engaged in another argument, this time over shoes of all things. Volta tuned it out, but he could feel his frustration building. Seriously, they had just met the guy! It was like they were enemies in another life or something, and Volta didn't even believe in reincarnation.

"YELP!"

The sudden cry turned quite a few heads. A dog jumped up and down, barking in pain. Volta blanched; its left front paw had been blown off.

"What the fuck?!" Copasta exclaimed. "What the hell…the fuckin hell…"

Horasha patted him on the back. "Atrocious," he growled. "This has been happening for months now; random animals shot from bizarre angles. Some sort of psycho is loose in this kingdom."

Zoro nodded, his eyes searching the gathering crowd. Volta did the same. Everyone around them stared in varying levels of dismay, but some only paused for a few sorrowful seconds before moving on with their business. They're used to it, Volta thought. Have they given up trying to find the culprit?

Something caught Zoro's eye, a glint that moved on the titled ground. He pushed his way gently through the crowd, mindful of his sheathed swords, until he was right in front of it. He picked it up, rushing back to his companions.

"Volta, take a look at this." A small marble, metallic and stainless; the blood had rolled off of it. Volta picked it out of Zoro's hands, frowning at it thoughtfully. "A bearing ball," he whispered. "A nasty weapon in the right slingshot, or even hands."

He placed it in the middle of his palm, rolling it around. Then he spun it. Then he placed it on a curled-up finger and flicked it right into the building behind him. The force of his strike embedded the marble deep into the wall, cracking the edges of the impact spot. A sudden sheen of sweat appeared on Copasta's forehead, unnoticed by the others. His father gave his arm a pinch, and the young assassin wiped his brow nonchalantly. "Holy shit," he said. "Ya saying someone could flick those damn things so hard they kill animals?"

"I'm a bit stronger than the average person," Volta admitted. "I think our psycho is too. Say, Zoro, after we deliver the tree, want to come back here and track the guy down?"

The swordsman huffed. "Screw that; let's find him before we even buy the tree. If he's using a slingshot, all we have to do is find a guy with one. If it's his fingers, I bet they're pretty calloused due to constantly flicking metal off them." He held up his own, rather calloused fingers.

Volta nodded. "That's a good point."

"GAH!"

The sudden, extremely loud shout, from none other than Sanji of all people, startled the other four men. But none so badly as Copasta; already nervous, the man jumped a full six inches off the ground, letting out a shout of his own. He landed with a thud, his left hand still in his pocket.

Clink

Sanji blew out a stream of smoke, his expression dead serious. "Sorry about that. By the way, is there something metallic in your pocket? I heard a clinking noise." He pointed at the pockets in question. "By the way, I've noticed you've had your hands in your pockets the entire time we've been together. Could it be to hide callouses on your fingertips?"

The moment of silence that followed that not-so-innocuous question could have been measured in minutes. The look of smug satisfaction on Sanji's face perfectly contrasted with Copasta's stark look of terror, his left arm shaking and his legs wobbling. Horasha's stoic indifference broke like a rusted padlock. Zoro and Volta nearly cracked the tiles with their jaws.

Then, as one, they moved.

.~===)==============={%}

Clear, blue sky. The glorious expanse that filled Volta with such joy and wonder, such deep satisfaction after years of starvation. It spread out endlessly over a vast sea, a strong wind, and a lonesome, golden ship.

Partially golden, in any case. Most of the hull and masts shone a deep, polished brown, the sails a gleaming white and the sides streaked royal blue. The gold was consolidated on the bow, formed into the head of a fierce falcon.

Heavily ornate wings jutted out behind it, encrusted with a variety of jewels collectively worth more than a dozen islands. And yet, the shining decorations seemed more tasteful when examined closely, as if they had been embedded purposefully, drawing the eye in deeper instead of forcing it away.

Golden claws hung loosely, but they too carried a sense of purpose. And unlike the wings, they actually had one; anchors that could be lowered on gilded chains.

The ship's size awed a passing fisherman, its height and length nearly unimaginable to him. Then he recognized the purple symbol embedded on the side of the sterncastle, and his lips twisted in a sneer. He spat a glob of phlegm at the ship, which fell far short but was not unnoticed by a woman on deck.

"Sir, a peasant has displayed hostile intent," she intoned. "Shall I command the gun deck to remove him?"

"No. If it's harmless, he's free to act upon his opinions."

The woman nodded, setting down her telescope and gliding toward her master. "How are you feeling today, sir?"

The man chuckled. "You ask me this so often today, Zuzy. Do I seem under the weather to you?"

"Not at all sir," she responded stiffly. "I simply do not understand your current intentions. Why are we in the East Blue? You promised you would explain that to me."

The man nodded, his smile relaxed and genuine. "All in good time, Zuzy. Have faith; this trip is what I've been waiting my whole life for."

Zuzy returned the smile. "That makes me so glad to hear, sir. Your happiness is my happiness."

"And yours is mine."

The woman nodded, walking away quickly to hide her blush.

"Ah, Zuzy, could you get Holier up here?"

"Of course," she responded, bowing slightly. "What for?"

"This passage…" the man frowned, his expression slightly perplexed. "I don't quite understand it. I would like an explanation from him."

Zuzy bowed once more and turned to find the person in question.

The man set down his book, a holy text from the island of Nosferatiel, on a nearby coffee table. He watched the seagulls soar through the sky, and turned his mind toward the work he needed to do.

---

Author's Note:

Listening to the YMCA song while writing this chapter was weird. Avgo is Greek for egg.

Also, for you only readers, I strongly encourage you to check out these chapters on Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity. Much like This Bites! and other such fics, I've created artwork for this series that can't be appreciated here. That's about it.

Yeomanaxel, the Verified Yeo.