NOTES: This was a pretty hard chapter for me to write, just because trying to convey the specific emotions was a bit… erm… rough.

REVIEWER THANKS: Rose-chan, upbeat and energetic as always. I'd still like to hear from more of you though. It's not difficult to review, being that I have anonymous review enabled. Just leave your thoughts, is all… please?


Inherited Will, Destiny of the Age

Chapter Fifty-Two

Dan: Fragile

Looking back, I remember the day I was officially accepted into the Mugiwara Kaizokudan as one of their own. It was a horrible day, with horrible circumstances, and had a huge impact on the rest of my life. If it were not for Rika and her crew of misfit adventurers, I would have spiraled out of control and turned towards a hate-filled and vengeful path, self-destructing in a fireball of fury. I was only ten at the time, but tragedy knows no age and anger fails to be forgiving.

When we had landed on the island all those years ago, I was ecstatic. Until then, it had been like a big adventure; a fairy tale of sorts. The evil king had imprisoned me and after a daring rescue, the roguish, gallant heroes were escorting me home to spread the good word of the king's downfall. A parental figure was lost in my aunt, as those sorts of stories often dictate, but I had total faith that my home would still exist. I knew in my heart that I could still run into my uncle's outstretched arms and feel the tickle of his moustache as he kissed my cheek. My friends would be there, ready to play, and the village would rejoice at my return.

My world shattered when we arrived at Isla de Navi. Many of the homes were charred timber frames and bloated, decomposing corpses were scattered amongst the debris. An eerie silence permeated the air; not even the animals would wander within the village limits. I have never been, nor will be able to, forget the jarring panic that overcame me. The world felt as if it was going to end right then and there. Moda, always such a warm and compassionate woman, held me as I cried for my island. Rika allowed me to wear her hat, which was something I had never seen anyone else do before then. It fell down loose over my ears and covered my eyes.

The only thing we discovered that day was that the Heart Pirates had been responsible for the attack. I was never told the specifics until I was older, as to keep me from forming a consuming hatred. I heard them say that pirates did it. It made no sense back then since we were pirates, albeit going by the colloquial "kaizoku". It was the very dilemma that plagued me for years afterwards, even after accepting the death of my village. How could we, those who sail in friendship and adventure, be classified with those who purposely murdered, pillaged and wrought havoc so efficiently? It was, to me, the ultimate question.

Paulie eventually had to carry me back to the ship, since my sobs were so great that I could barely stand. It reminded me of when my uncle would bring me up to my bed after a long day of playing; my face buried in his shoulder and my arms wrapped around his neck. He smelled of grease, sweat and wood shavings. The strong, thick arms that were fine-tuned to a father's assuring caress surrounded me, calmed me, and I stopped crying. By the time he had reached the Fading Sorrow, I had fallen asleep.

I woke up a few hours later, within the hour before sundown. Moda was sitting in a chair in my room, sleeping while she watched over me. Not wanting to disturb her, I had gone to find the rest of the crew; there was no one on the ship but Moda and me. I stepped off the ship and began to wander the island, careful not to stray too close to my former home. Eventually, I found a field that I had led the crew through earlier that day and I was dumbstruck at the sight before me.

Mounds covered the field, all in neat, proper rows. Piiman was fashioning wooden crosses to stick into the ground while Rika, Chabo and Tamanegi dug pits that Kappa, Paulie and Ninjin placed blackened masses into. I watched them from the underbrush, reluctant to make my presence known. I would thank them another time, but that moment was more dictated by shock and dread.

"You know what they are doing, do you not?" said a voice that made me jump. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Aisa standing behind me. She was covered in liberal splashes of blood that were clearly not her own and what looked like one of the island's large rats was slung across her back. Her intense eyes bore into me, immobilizing my every movement.

"They are burying the dead," I said. I could feel my throat constrict and my eyes blurred with tears. I could not go on, else risk another bout of heaving cries and a twisted stomach. Aisa knelt down to where I sat, crouched between some bushes, and whispered to me.

"I, too, am the last of my village," she said, her voice cold and firm. "Do your crying now so you never have to cry again. Keep on living for them and you will never have the need for tears."

I looked back at the field to see Paulie carrying one of the dark masses just as he had carried me earlier. He placed the body into its grave and as dirt was being filled in, his knees buckled and his hands found his face. Everyone was too far away from me to hear, but I saw that Kappa, of all people, put a hand on the man's shoulder in consolation.

"An elder once told me that as long as people are remembered, they can live on forever," Aisa said. She was next to my ear, whispering in the same flat tone as before. "Laki, Kamakiri, Braham, Wiper, Calgara… their names shall live on as some of the greatest warriors Shandora has ever known—names that I am humbled to have learned."

"I don't know who you're talking about," I sniffled. Aisa snorted.

"It would be the same as if you told me simply the names of your playmates. The memories, the stories, the people, shall live if you let them."

Back in the field, I could see Piiman tapping in the crosses at the heads of the graves. His face was emotionless as he did so, doing his job in silence. By the time I turned to talk to Aisa again, she was gone. There might have never been anyone there if I had not smelled the lingering perfume of her hand-rolled cigarette.

Without a fuss, I went back to the ship and woke up Moda. She was still on the chair in my room. We went into the kitchen and found that Tashigi had brought vegetables, herbs and fungi to accompany the rat that Aisa was dressing. Moda made dinner in silence, while I ran around assisting her like I always did. By the time the others had returned for the meal, their faces were pale and their expressions solemn. A couple smelled like bile. They all ate anyways, if only to be kind.

"Wait," I said as everyone was getting ready to leave the galley. I ran up to Rika and made her bend down so I could put her hat back on her head. She hugged me tightly and told me I was a good kid.

It was from that moment on, I knew I may have lost my village, but I gained myself a family that could never be replaced.


Author's Notes

I was really, seriously, debating on whether or not I should include Dan in the rotation, since there is already a huge cast of characters we have conveying their thoughts and emotions to us already (ten, to be precise). There was just something that only Dan could really say though, even if it takes him a while to get around to it.