The Will of D
Not even the impossible stops directed will. This reinforced my spoiled princess mentality, in a strange way. It helped me leap from spoiled little girl into a responsible young woman.
Nothing changes your life like doing the impossible, realizing what holding unlimited power and unconstrained potential means.
My sea stone wasn't lost, stolen, or vanished. It had crumbled into dust, dissolved in the face of my Mysterious powers.
No, not only dissolved. I had absorbed its power, and it became part of me. An impossible feat, for everyone in this world knows sea stone and devil fruit powers are strictly incompatible, anathema. Sea stone is a restraining mechanism, a check against the powers of the devil - has been for centuries - and never has any cursed person developed immunity.
This became my greatest secret, a final unadvertised advantage. I kept silent, when I understood. I pretended my suffering had earned and learned control, and I no longer needed my nighttime seastone crutch. Of course, I might not be unique at all; maybe another devil-fruit user with absorber type powers shares this strange immunity to sea stone. No one understands the rarest fruits.
Yes, this miracle I attributed to my will remains a partial mystery, even to me. Maybe it's how the Mystery Mystery Fruit is works? If it existed in perfect balance, levitating in air above the All-Blue, perhaps sea stone is meant as it's balancer. Who knows? With a shard of the ocean's powers inside me, I gained the ability to turn off what I absorb. An imperfect technique. My silver lips may still dissolve my own flesh, should I forget myself.
But I could touch them again.
My silver lips felt smooth and my tongue strange and rubbery. I remember my tongue beings slick and slimy, when I touched it as younger girl. In turning off the powers of Eat, my mouth no longer produced saliva, and speaking became more difficult. Tradeoffs and drawbacks. I have never been able to throw away my special chopsticks, or enjoy a good kiss.
If I turn off the powers of Sniff, breathing becomes harder, the very air smothering me underneath an invisible blanket. I don't like turning off that ability, but with it on, I'm drawn to devil abilities, like an addict or junkie or psychic. Pell and Chaka actually ran from me, big bad Zoan users terrified of touching a little girl, as I experimented with turning down my sensitivity and range. That is how I found Arabasta's secret.
Ah, but more on that later, I had broken my long convalescence and returned into palace life. Sure, I had made public appearances, but only as a crippled invalid while riding Carue. I missed out on much, because my body, weakened by seastone, could not cope. I have never mastered riding a desert ship, never learned the beautifully hypnotic combat dances based around Arabastan perfume, and I never mastered the butterfly stroke on a desert beach, held in my father's arms.
After suffering through my folly of seeking power without being aware of the consequences, the country I came back into was vastly different. The atmosphere changed.
A movement had erupted calling for the disinheritance of King Cobra's family. Me. The basis? No good heir for the throne existed. It started when I was ten, and gained momentum, despite my father's efforts at having Carue and I tour the countryside.
I did make friends, but my weakened state couldn't be hidden. The important people expected my swift death from wasting sickness.
The Dance Powder rumors are what I remember about my twelfth birthday. They consolidated the idea in my mind that a shadow organization sought control of my birthright. Not two weeks after I had squashed the objections about being unable to inherit because I remained sickly and at death's door, the Dance Powder crisis broke.
It was as if a hidden enemy played a new line of attack after the first failed. Though I'd not learn my suspicions were correct until later.
Somehow, a huge amount of Dance Powder, a mystic substance which creates rain by destroying seed clouds, was shipped to my father. Naturally, the shipment was upset in public, linking the royal house with the reprehensible substance. Indisputable proof, impossible to deny. 'Planted evidence' as an excuse did not sway the public, and so I learned a vile lie will gain the hearts of the people, if told often enough.
For the first time I began to question if I wanted to become a ruler of Arabasta, if I wanted the responsibility of governing a people who would betray me like they were betraying my father. This bothered me, interfered with my own focus on abilities.
Finally I found my father and poured my heart out to him in one of our increasingly rare meetings. I hadn't seen him for days, but he still came and tucked me in that night. I'll remember the expression on his face forever.
"Vivi, the responsibility of a ruler is to bear the weight of the country. In good times, weight is light, and a good king must concern himself on not squandering his bounty. In bad times, weight is heavy, and a king must bear the fears of his country in order to protect the people. Protecting is much harder than attacking, than solving problems, because fear creates evil, which in turn creates more fear."
My father looked so old that night, as if he might never see me again, as if his great heart would give out. "This cycle of fear, I only hope I can break it before it breaks Arabasta." He said finally, but I don't believe those last words were truly meant for me.
Once a seed cloud is destroyed, the weather changes. In essence, using Dance Powder on immature clouds 'steals' rain from other locations. The substance was banned in the Grand Line generations ago, after wars started over unnatural droughts.
Shortly after the Dance Power fiasco, Arabasta descended into such a drought. A calculated drought; one any intelligent person could see was caused by Dance Powder itself. The unrest grew. Neighboring islands began accusing Arabasta of conspiracy against them.
Why was this happening? No. Who was responsible, was the better question. The 'why' of it was obviously a coup or revolution.
No one in the royal circles had information. Speculations were useless. However, part of this conspiracy forced rain over the royal capital, while depriving the rest of our country of living rain. Father looked guilty. A movement openly seeking revolution began, became popular.
I didn't like it.
I hated it.
I needed to act.
As a Princess of Arabasta, I failed my people. First by arrogance, later by weakness. I would not fail a third time. While the royal court spun in circles of circumstantial wavering, I cut to the heart of the matter.
The first time might be coincidence, but the second is enemy action. I finished with being my own worst enemy when my childhood ended. An unknown rival undermining the noble dynasty of Nefertari worked inside the shadows, and I vowed to stop them. My long illness ended, my determination burning.
The best lesson I took from my ordeal is that those who seek only power lead loathsome lives. Before my own recklessness backfired, I had few friends.
The Suna-Suna band was in awe of me, and Igaram, Chaka, and Pell were forced into watching me. My poor Carue, I neglected him. The world revolved about me, and my greatness drew others like moths circling a flame. Or so I once believed.
After I fell ill, I found those I disdained cared for me, and I began to care for them. I stopped wanting to be strong for strength's sake, for my sake, and began wanting strength for others. If only I had continued on that wholesome path, but then I'd miss out on my marvelous adventures.
Sometimes, I still wonder what may have been, if I'd been a docile princess. Would I still have acted to save Arabasta, the weaker me? Would I have loved my country as much as I do now? When I have nothing better to focus on, I ruminate on silly what-might-have beens. So it goes…
My old dreams fell into ash, abandoned as my childhood ended. In their place, a new ambition blossomed.
Immortality.
I had already figured out the secret behind it - the key to immortality is living a life worth remembering. Engraving myself into the living memory of Arabasta's people, by being the greatest princess ever, would grant me immortality.
By my will, I would walk the endless hard path into life.
When I shared this with my father, he looked at me strangely. An evaluating expression, full of sadness, pride, and hope. His eyes, they tore through me.
"So, this is the Will of D. Truly, an astonishing force."
"In one year, I'm leaving." I met those eyes, not flinching. "I will infiltrate this unknown organization, obtain evidence and proof of their complicity, and save our kingdom from ruin."
"We see." Said my father, King Cobra, using a royal 'we,' an unusual formality.
"I need time to train with a weapon, to master my body again." I had already selected the Peacock Slashers as my devastator of choice. A variation on the chained whip, they impressed me with their beauty and grace.
"You should look into Rokushiki, the six greatest arts. The marines of the World's Government use them for enforcement. I know little, other than these secrets exist. Even here, in the Grand Line, their very name inspires legends."
"Then I will not take the throne until I master these legendary arts. However many there are, be it six or six hundred! But for that, I need time."
"Daughter, you may take it, but not here. If you are truly ready, ready enough to lead the people of Arabasta, you must go forth and journey. Take Carue. Learn; no, relearn our kingdom. See the changes this scandal has brought. Give our people hope."
What a tall order for a pre-teen girl. As much as I love my father, looking back on that, I don't know what the hell he was thinking. Sure, I had minor powers from the devil. Didn't mean crap against even the medium sized lizard predators in our beloved island's food chain. Death in the desert basked on many rocks.
Maybe he thought sending me away would make me safe. He ordered Ingaram with me, but I would have none of it. The Captain of the Guard should do his duty and lead the Guard, not follow a headstrong nearly disinherited princess around on her coming of age training journey. I didn't need a nanny.
I like men to behave like men – strong and childish. As much as I wanted Pell or Chaka, I could be in danger if they came.
So I left with Carue. I walked, then jogged behind my Super-duck, as my body slowly became stronger. We visited settlements, villages, cities, and met with the Arabastan people. At times I was welcomed, at times I was chased off, as the drought grew worse. Twice people tried to steal the only thing of real value I took with me – my seastone chopsticks. And I learned how roast lizard tasted. You don't waste resources in the desert, and my ironic battlecry would be 'Time For Dinner!' until it started causing unnecessary confusion. Ah, more on that later.
Maybe. The story is embarrassing.
I visited retired masters, and learned the way of my peacock slashers over a grueling three month initiation. Carue made friends with some local wildlife, and I got my ass handed to me by a group of Kung-Fu Dugongs. I vowed revenge, but could clearly see a long road before collecting it.
No one on Arabasta knew anything about the Rokushiki, not my masters, not the colorful chiefs of the desert tribes, and not the old wise women who healed my battered body when the desert proved too much. My only clue came from a Marine first mate, who told me if I signed up and rose through the ranks, they would teach me, should I prove worthy.
She showed me a small trick, that Marine. She jumped three feet into the air and hovered, for nearly thirty seconds, her white uniform fluttering at parade rest. I knew she did not have the powers of the devil, I could feel nothing inside her. Still, that small trick strained her muscles, while her face showed nothing, she walked exceptionally slowly back into Arabasta Marine Headquarters.
Even as I scoured our desert country, my mysterious senses detected no devil powers or fruits. At times I felt a slight pull towards Crocodile's headquarters, but I avoided pirate related people and activates during my training time. I wasn't ready. Even visiting the Marines had felt unusually daring.
The year finished faster than I imagined. I returned home, a changed woman.
A much, much worse, political situation greeted me, with rebellion semi-openly calling for King Cobra's downfall in the major cities. The glue holding the kingdom together seemed to be the Shichibukai Crocodile, who fought off monthly bands of marauding scavenger pirates.
This wasn't the kingdom I belonged to. I could never rule such a damn mess.
I can't imagine what might have happened if I disappeared without telling anyone. How my father might have worried. What resources might have been devoted at me instead of solving this crisis? After a long talk with Igaram, I decided I'd find out what was behind this, and do something. Like stop it.
They wouldn't let me go until I could show my competence, but after training against the desert beasts, mastering my peacock slashers, and learning distance spitting (a needed talent if you have highly caustic weaponized saliva), the ten Arabastan guards were easy.
So I thought. In the coming weeks, I'd quickly learn Arabastan guards were a formality. Or more accurately, normal men and women were nothing compared with the powers of the devil.
Father didn't want me to go. Too bad. I went anyway, and I forbid him from sending anyone after me. My cover girl, body double, stand-in persona-princess came from the city. Pretend-me happened to be very sick from an exotic desert illness I'd caught during my travels.
I never met her. Two months after I left, she was assassinated. Poisoned to death. I realized then, as much as father didn't want me to go, he didn't want me to stay. My expense account held money able to support me for the rest of my natural lifespan, a few million belli. Father's contingency, and I still love him for it.
Spending liberally, I found out the organization behind the rabblerousing was called Baroque Works. A mercenary outfit boasting over three thousand members, taking hundreds of unsavory jobs. A front for my adversary's master plan.
Naturally, I joined Baroque Works. Infiltrated with Carue, who I claimed to have stolen from the royal house of Arabasta.
They bought it, and I began working my way up through the ranks, on islands far down the Grand Line. I thought if I traveled high enough in the organization, I could uncover the employer behind the troubles of Arabasta. What I discovered…. well, that came later.
My grand adventures had finally begun.