The sun was slowly rising in the east when Benn woke up. He was confused at first, not really sure where he was and what had happened, but then all the memories flashed back to him. The clatter of metal hitting the floor, the warm hand that pulled him away and those sad eyes when Shanks told him he didn't see him as a slave. As much as he wanted to believe in those words, the necklace around his throat reminded him of what he truly was and always would be.

In an attempt of self-pity, Benn considered to just pull the blanket over his head and try to shut the world out. But that wouldn't help his situation and it wasn't like him to act like a teenager. Instead, he rose to his feet and looked around. He still wore yesterday's cloths, rumpled and creased. He sighed and pulled the dirty, white linen shirt over his head. He wore it for two days. In the tavern room in which he had been sleeping for the first night, after he had seen the doctor, he had found these cloths on the bed, ready for him. It wasn't much, just some shirts and two trousers, but at least it was something to wear. After a while he had found out that Shanks had provided all of the slaves with new clothes. Benn gulped. They were now former slaves, except of him.

He threw the shirt onto the bed and ran a hand through his black hair. It hung loosely around his face and he wondered if he would be able to find something to hold it back. His former master had liked it better when it hung open, but it always was in the way. He wondered if Shanks would care. He would certainly find out.

It wasn't really bright in the room, as he hadn't lit any candles or lights. Instead, the orange shimmer of the rising sun lit up the furniture in a soft glow, and Benn spotted a nightstand next to his bed. There was also a huge wardrobe he didn't find much sense in, as he would never own enough clothes to fill it – unless his new master liked to dress him up, but Benn doubted Shanks wanted to use him as a doll.

Then there was the door he had come in yesterday, and on the right was another one that had to be the connection to Shanks' quarters, as the wood of the double wing doors was a shimmering mahogany and contained several filigree carvings. With surprise he also spotted a third door a little next to the wardrobe, and when he opened it, he found himself standing in a little bathroom. Over the sink were the toiletries he needed. Toothpaste and a toothbrush, a comb, as well as some soap. There were also white towels laying ready on the closed lid of the toilet. Deciding it couldn't hurt, he brushed his teeth but avoiding to look in the mirror. No need to face himself, yet.

The last thing he saw when he entered his room again, was a desk. It looked rather empty, only some stationery was placed on it. A few pens, a notepad and, much to his surprise, also a neatly folded package of clothes. He hadn't noticed anyone coming in during the night, but it seemed like someone had brought him something to wear. Or the package had been in here before he had entered the room. But how could they have known Shanks would host him here? The few clothes he had possessed on board of the Red Force and during his travels were in a bag, which he had forgotten in the big hall. Not that he cared, it hadn't contained anything of worth anyway. Only on second thought he realized that Shanks had broken the promise of no one entering without Benn's permission. Somehow, he doubted the clothes had been in here yesterday night. Benn sighed, suppressing the feeling of disappointment. Why had he given it any consideration anyway?

He reached for the clothes when he saw a small note on top of it. Blinking in irritation, Benn opted for reading it first and unfolded it. His eyes darted over the curved handwriting and despite all the circumstances, he could only shake his head. This man was insane.

I wasn't in your room. I promise. I used a place-changing-spell. I hope I hit the desk. My aim never was good.
Use the scarf.
Shanks

Automatically, his eyes scanned the clothes, and it didn't take him long to spot the red of the scarf he had worn on the day Shanks had bought him. Reaching for it, he pulled it out from between the rest of the fabric and just held it in his hand. It was as soft as he remembered, and freshly washed. Regarding it closer, he scanned it for any signs of the blood that had soaked it the last time he had held the fabric in his hands, and realized it was as new. There was not even a single stain on it. Gulping, Benn sat back on his bed, trying to process what this meant.

He had feared the glances of the rest of the people. It shouldn't have bothered him, but the thought of all the pity he would probably get from the others who had been slaves but weren't anymore, had made him uneasy. Benn didn't need sympathy, he knew he was an outcast, even under outcasts. Coping with it was not the problem, yet he knew it would wear him out. He was only human after all, even though people tended to forget that when seeing the necklace around a neck.

The fabric felt cold and silky under his fingers, and Benn wondered why Shanks went through so much trouble. He couldn't deny he was relieved that the man hadn't been into his room. He just didn't know why. When he looked through the clothes, he realized it was more than just one set, and he also noticed a set of nightwear on the chair. This had probably been in here before he had entered the room, ready for him to sleep in it after the long journey. Well, he just hadn't seen it at all.

In the end, he slipped into what seemed like the most unremarkable set of clothes - black trousers and a dark blue shirt. As all of the cloths in these warm regions, the fabric was light and airy. To his surprise, it also was long enough. He was extremely tall, even for a man. With slight confusion on his face, he regarded the rest of the clothes and then shrugged. As he placed them neatly in the wardrobe, Benn couldn't help but think that they really looked lost in there, in all that empty space.

There was also a mirror on the inside of the door of the wardrobe, and with a growl, Benn couldn't delay to take a look at his face anymore. Gray, tired eyes looked back at him, the black rings underneath standing out on pale clear skin. He never slept much, but yesterday evening had taken its toll on him. Whispered words, a simple spell he had learned years ago, covered all evidence of the lack of sleep. This way he could make himself look fresh and as if he had had the perfect night's sleep. It was just what his masters had wanted from him, even though he almost never felt like it. No spell could grant you energy just like that. He either had to sleep or claim the energy from someone else who would suffer from the loss. Both wasn't possible here, all he could do was illusion. He checked his face again, the dark rings under his eyes were gone. Then he slung the scarf around his neck, made sure his necklace wasn't visible anymore and headed for the door.

No one had told him what to do, but he assumed Shanks couldn't be much different than most of his former owners, who usually just wanted one thing in the morning and that was breakfast. Benn would see if breakfast included him as well or not.

Outside of his room, Benn looked from left to right, not sure where to go. He had a good sense of direction, but he hadn't really paid much attention to where Shanks had dragged him yesterday. Not that it would have helped much, as he had no idea where the kitchen was. Maybe someone would cross his path and he could ask?

Before he could reach a decision though, a man rounded the corner and stopped, looking stunned. Then he grinned and yelled over at Benn, sounding more enthusiastic than it was legal for a man at this early hour. It was Roo, the other companion who had been with Shanks on the day in the auction house, and he grinned like he had had the best sleep in ages.

"You're up early. Good morning!"

Benn blinked, irritated, before his senses kicked in and he stepped back slightly. Bowing his head, he wondered if the man knew about the necklace underneath the scarf or not. Any other person would probably assume he had been freed as all the other slaves, but this man definitely was a closer companion to his master than the other people he had seen on the Red Force. Shanks could have told him.

Meanwhile, the big man closed the distance, faster than Benn had thought he would be able to. Roo seemed like an easy-going man as far as Benn could say without knowing him well. They had traveled together, but nonetheless, the slaves had always kept their distance from Shanks' men, out of given reasons.

"Good morning," he mumbled as a reply, his tone even and friendly. His gaze was locked on the floor, so as not to draw any attention. However, he jerked when Roo spoke with firm, but soft words.

"You can look at me," he said and Benn did as he was told, just because refusal was nothing to consider. A shadow of sadness rushed over the man's face, but maybe it was just Benn's imagination, because it was gone quickly. What remained was an encouraging smile. "Where did you want to go?"

"The kitchen," Benn answered honestly, and Roo nodded, waving his hand to indicate Benn to follow him. He just started walking while he talked.

"Good, that's where I'm heading at the moment. You must be hungry, you haven't eaten anything yesterday evening, am I right? I'll make you some breakfast, before I start working."

The words caused Benn to look up in bafflement, and he had to concentrate on his feet not to stumble. He had looked away politely again, although he couldn't force himself to do so now. Someone else wanted to make breakfast for him? That had to be a joke. A joke he didn't find funny in the slightest.

"I can make my own breakfast, after I served His Highness," he declared in a reserved tone, but to his astonishment Roo turned, frowning. He even stopped walking, and Benn nearly bumped into the man. He wanted to apologize, but was beat by his company.

"Listen, Shanks can totally serve himself, and he wouldn't allow it anyway. Not to mention he isn't here anymore, but went to visit someone. Also, when I want to make you breakfast, I will do just that. It's my kitchen and before someone messes with it, it's over my dead body. Understood?"

Benn was so taken aback by those words he could only nod. It seemed enough for the other man, and for a while they walked in silence. It was good for remembering the way, though curiosity got the better of him and he just had to ask. "You're a cook?"

The question earned Benn a chuckle, before Roo answered. "Surprised?"

To be honest, Benn was, and he shrugged, so as not to show it too much. "I hadn't thought of His Highn..." he started, but was interrupted by Roo.

"Shanks!"

So Benn cut off the word and continued, even though it sounded strange to call his owner by his name so casually. "…Shanks would have his cook as one of his closest… ministers," Benn ended, though he wasn't sure if he had phrased it right. He wasn't sure if Roo was a minister or not, but he assumed he was, as he had accompanied His Highness to the auction house. He was close to Shanks, so he would surely have a high position in this court. Any other thing would just be strange.

"I'm no minister. I'm a cook. Simple as that. Just happened that I'm friends with a Yonko as well. You'll understand after a while," Roo said as he opened a door which led into what seemed like a big dining hall. There were five rows of tables filling the room. How many people ate here? "Sit down. I'll make you something. Coffee or tea?"

Benn could just stare and follow the words. This hall was huge, larger than some grand dancing halls he had seen. "Coffee," he mumbled as he looked at Roo's back, who vanished through a door into what must be the actual kitchen. Were there any other rooms as big as this one in here? Was someone like Shanks even having a dancing hall? The man had danced on the Red Force, though it hadn't been any official standard dances. A Yonko had to know the current etiquette, right? Benn would need time to process everything that happened here, that much he was sure of. Especially when he realized he had just for a moment forgotten he was a slave.

After a while in which Benn tried to sort his thoughts, Roo returned with a tray in his hands. It was loaded with a mug filled with coffee, and two small containers filled with milk and sugar, both things Benn didn't need and usually also didn't get. Then there was pita bread, different kinds of cheese and ham, as well as scrambled eggs. He also spotted what looked like some kind of berry jam. The last time Benn had had jam was… He wasn't sure, it had to have been years ago. The astonishment must have been visible in his face, because Roo frowned.

"Anything you don't like?" he asked, but Benn just shook his head no, as the chef placed the breakfast in front of him. This was what he usually served his masters, he had never had such a plentiful meal in his life, ever.

"Well then, enjoy your meal," Roo added up, when Benn remained staring, not sure if he was allowed to touch any of this. Still swamped by the choices he took the coffee and took a sip. The moment he tasted the liquid his eyes widened. This was one of the best brewed coffee's he ever had. How could this all be for him? He was a slave, people usually didn't care for him. Somehow it seemed to dawn upon Roo what was bothering Benn, because a sad hint played in his eyes, as he leaned back in his stool.

"You never had something like it before," he said, and it wasn't a question.

Benn just shook his head, readying himself for the pity that would come. His lips became a thin line. He had survived till this day, he didn't need false sympathy from people who didn't understand what it meant to be enslaved.

But Roo just smiled and stole a slice of ham from the plate. "Well, there is always a first. Eat, and when you're done you can help me in the kitchen. There are around a hundred other people who wanna have some breakfast as well. They aren't as frugal as you."

"You always cook for all of them alone?" Benn asked disbelieving, to both the answer and the way Roo had acted towards him. A hundred different people, and they would all eat here, probably getting a meal like he just got. The amount of time, effort, gosh even the amount of money that breakfast alone must cost the court every day was huge. Why did they do this? How did they do this? None of the questions came out of Benn's mouth, even though they burned on his tongue. But Roo just chuckled at the sight of him or probably at his question, while he considered his statement.

"No way, but my assistant's ill and the rest of the cooks will not come in before lunchtime," he explained and as the cook went on chatting, Benn finally started to eat, all the while eager to learn more.

Shanks had tried to reach Rayleigh when he had finished all his work and was sure each of his new employees was cared for. However, all he got when their minds connected through the spell he used was a closed door. He wasn't allowed inside Ray's head and when the old man didn't want to speak to him, Shanks had no way to force him. Very few people could shut him out, but his old teacher was one of them.

A communication spell was actually really simple, it was nothing close to mind-reading, which didn't exist. A lot of people who barely even managed seals and spells, where able to use it. The thing was, as far as both parties agreed on the communication, it was like hearing the other in one's head. The words just didn't need air to travel, the magic itself carried them from place to place, when allowed by both users. What needed more concentration and power was forcing the other person to permit the access into the head. It was like a constant knocking on a door. After a while it became so obtrusive and annoying most people just allowed the entry into their mind. Usually Shanks was really good at being annoying, but Rayleigh could manage to bang the door into his face and close it in such a way, that he didn't have the strength to go on being annoying.

After a while though, when Shanks had nearly dozed off because the day had exhausted him, there was a gentle knock at the barriers of his mind and with a sigh he let Ray in. Closing his eyes he concentrated on the connection. It was always easier to just focus on the voice without seeing his surroundings. He could imagine Rayleigh was somewhere in the room, speaking with him face to face, and not being miles away.

"You really pick the worst times to call." The familiar voice sounded through his head, and the wish to smack his old teacher rose in no time. Worst times? It had been late evening, what the hell was he doing at that time that was so important, anyway? Than it hit Shanks and he growled, not sure if he should be annoyed or just embarrassed about it. He had no vigor left to deal with something like it.

"Just because you pick the worst times to bang Shakky doesn't mean it's my fault!" Shanks replied sassyly and tried to get the pictures out of his head. It wasn't working at all. He really needed to sleep after that conversation.

"I don't apologize to have sex with my wife, oh Lord Highness."

Shanks growled at the title. Ray should be glad he wasn't around for him to smack him. Not that he would ever manage to hit him, as Ray was a lot faster than Shanks ever would be, but he could try.

"Stop that," Shanks pouted and he could hear the laugh in his head.

"You never grow up, do you?"

Shanks could imagine the look on his old teacher's face, and he even waved his hand, as if he wanted to shoo away a fly. The image didn't vanish, though. Sometimes Shanks hated that man for his cockiness.

"No, I don't. Not my fault you made me accept that position, so live with it," he said and then added, finally coming to the point, "I need to see you."

"When?" Ray didn't beat around the bush. He probably heard the concern in his voice. Shanks knew it seeped through. There was no need to hide it, as he intended to tell Rayleigh the whole story when they met. He trusted him alone to seal the ring, as the man was the only person alive that had enough power to block Shanks' own magic, which was indeed powerful.

"Tomorrow. The earlier the better." Shanks hoped the man was at home, but since he had just been with Shakky, the possibility was high he was, even though sometimes he could vanish for more than a month. No one knew where he went then, not even his own wife.

"Meet me at ten at Shakky's place. I'm there."

Shanks counted in his head. Meeting Ray at ten meant he had to stand up at least at five. Shakky's bar was located at a town called Sabaody, which lay at the border of Shanks' territory and was a neutral area. None of the Yonkos had managed to claim it, as it was one of the fixing points that separated their' areas. After endless battles and the intervention of even the Government itself, it was declared neutral territory. Shanks shrugged. Six hours of sleep would have to be enough.

"Fine, see you at ten in the morning," Shanks replied and shut off the connection, but heard the reverberation of Ray's last few words.

"Wait! Morning? Are you serious..."

Shanks had decided to quit breakfast in favor of a few more minutes of sleep. He would need the energy for the ride, sitting on a horse for almost four hours was exhausting but he also didn't want to force Roo out of bed so early. The man would have gotten up for him for sure, but Shanks had convinced him to stay put and make sure everything was alright while he was gone. There was no need for him to stay longer than a day, but with Shakky and Ray, Shanks never knew. He had told everyone else he would be back the other day.

Somewhere along the way, Shanks had stopped for a short break and something to eat, but the sun had prompted him to better move on. It was up high in the sky now and Shanks didn't want to lose time or stay out in the heat longer than necessary. Now his chestnut walked through the dusty streets of the familiar town he visited way too often for his liking. Not that he didn't like Rayleigh, but nearly every time he visited the old man it was because something was not going well in his kingdom.

Pushing his hood deeper over his hair, he made sure no one would recognize him at first sight. His red hair gave away his identity easily, and he didn't need the commotion. After a while the houses became more rugged, the area more filthy. Shakky wasn't living in the noble quarter after all. Then he spotted the sign of her bar and a grin stretched across Shanks' face. 'Rip-off Bar'. Whenever he read that he just couldn't deny that he liked the woman.

Before he was properly off his horse, the door opened with a loud bang and an angry looking Rayleigh stepped out. As soon as he spotted Shanks, the anger made way for worry though, and he reached for the snaffle to lead the animal away, as soon as its rider was back on his feet. Shanks just shook his head and said nothing. There was no need, and he didn't have the energy to do so. He wasn't here to search for a fight. While Rayleigh led the horse to a small stable behind the bar, his eyes followed his former teacher. The silver hair sparkled in the sun. It made Shanks really worried that he hadn't even been greeted.

"You know, you're one of the very few people who can make him act like this at all." The soft voice managed to make Shanks turn again, and he smiled when he saw the woman. In her hand was a cigarette, as always, but she stumped it out. It was all the invitation Shanks needed to close the distance and give her a hug.

"Hello Shakky," he mumbled and buried his head in the crook of her neck. He needed this, after all that happened, and the woman was what came closest to his mother.

"Good to see you, Shanks," she replied softly. It was something unusual, as she was normally very tough. A force nothing could break, and a lot of people would love to own. No one had ever managed. Not even Ray, but he also had never tried.

When they parted again, Shanks felt a little better, even though he was still exhausted and tired. Stepping away from Shakky, he turned to see whether Rayleigh was coming back. He wouldn't have needed to, though, because the man just made his way over to him. His horse seemed to be properly taken care of, as there wasn't much noise other than a low neigh coming from afar – probably Shakky's horse greeting his chestnut. Shanks knew Shakky kept a horse herself, since it was the smartest means of transport in these regions.

"Ray-", Shanks started but before he could say anything more, he felt his former teacher's fist on his head, hitting him hard. He let out an "ouch" and wanted to protest, but was shut off by another embrace. This one felt different. It was more secure, a pleasant reminder that the old man cared for him still, after all those years.

"Idiot," Ray mumbled, just a quick outburst of his feelings before he let go. Somehow Shanks could only smile at it.

They moved inside, and Shakky even locked the door although there would hardly be any guest coming this early in the morning. Then she excused herself to fetch them something to eat and some coffee. It seemed that the two of them had just gotten up and not eaten a proper breakfast yet. Rayleigh sat down on the couch, while Shanks remained standing. After sitting on a horse for such a long time, it was good to feel solid ground under his feet again and stretch his sore legs.

"Are you telling me now why you come here at ten in the morning, when you have to ride at least four hours to get here? I meant the evening Shanks, I was worried as fuck. How many hours did you sleep? Four? Five?" Ray asked, his voice trembling slightly. He tried to hide it, rather sounding angry than worried, but Shanks could hear the concern. A sigh escaped his lips and he gave in to exhaustion, finally sitting down on a chair across from the older man.

"Six ... and that is why." Shanks lifted his hand to show the ring. The shock on Rayleigh's face was nothing Shanks hadn't expected and still he felt the lump in his throat. He had never felt so guilty before now, looking the man he had known for almost all his life into the eye and telling him he was in the possession of something they both detested. The way he regarded Shanks was piercing, as if he searched for an answer by merely trailing down his features. Suddenly, all Shanks wanted to do was cry.

"That is an owner's ring," Ray simply stated, and Shanks could only nod. He lacked the proper words and the hand fell back into his lap again. "Why are you wearing an owner's ring?"

Fiddling with the ring, Shanks slipped it off his finger and looked at it. He never had feared a simple piece of metal like this before. His gaze wandered back to Ray and he shrugged to hide the distress he felt. "Can you please seal it first?" he asked and stood up to give the ring to the other man. He could have just slid it over the table, but he didn't dare to. Benn's tears and pained face when the necklace hadn't opened while all the others did, hindered him from doing so. He would never risk hurting the man again, even if it was just by not taking care of the ring. He had been hurt enough.

Shanks carefully placed the ring into the open hand and sat back. Ray closed his fist around it. Suddenly his eyes widened and Shanks knew he had felt the power rush through him, though it could only be half as worse as the time the ring had accepted himself as Benn's new owner. Never letting his eyes trail off Ray's stance, Shanks watched him lean back while running his free hand through his hair. It seemed like he finally understood.

"This is black magic," Ray stated, and even though it wasn't a question Shanks nodded. "And you couldn't open the necklace." Again, no question but a statement. "I guess you want me to seal it, so you can't use the ring?" Shanks nodded again, just to jerk when Rayleigh sighed and shook his head absentmindedly. "I can't."

His feet hit the floor and he was standing straight, before Shanks realized what he was doing. His expression had shifted into shock and anger, and he made no effort to hide his feelings from his former teacher. With gritted teeth and hands balled to fists he was on the edge, fully aware he was only a spark away from exploding.

"Don't fucking kid with me," Shanks pressed out, voice strained and quiet in an attempt to not shout at Rayleigh. Luckily the other man knew his former protege quite too well to be offended by the actions. It probably would have caused the bar to fall apart, with two powers far beyond what a normal person could imagine.

"Shanks, sit down!" The voice was calm but firm, though it was the look in Ray's eyes that made Shanks really follow the order, because it was nothing other than that. He would always remember that look, those fierce but also calm eyes, which gave away only a spark of the power that lay deep within. It made it clear Shanks had really fucked up this time and that he better listened closely, because if not, he could count himself really lucky to stay alive and in one piece.

So he sat, slowly and each move controlled, while his eyes never left Ray's gaze. The other lowered his head only after Shanks' back hit the back of the chair, and the tension vanished. Shanks let out an uncontrolled sigh, his hand running through his red strands. He was exhausted and he was afraid. Afraid that he couldn't handle the black magic, that he would never find a way to open that damn necklace and mostly he feared to hurt Benn. A thought that felt like a sharp slash through his heart, even though he didn't really know this fascinating man with the sad eyes, yet.

"Whoever wears the matching necklace to this ring must have really gotten under your skin," slipped out of Ray's mouth but Shanks just flinched and grimaced at the words. The other one had no idea. "Oh fine, I don't ask."

The added words managed to draw another sigh from Shanks and he popped his feet up on the coffee table and cross-legged them. It was hard not to just grip something and throw it at Rayleigh's head. But honestly, he was glad the anger had been drained. It wouldn't have ended well, and Shakky would have been really mad at them for ruining her bar.

"He's powerful," Shanks said after a moment of silence and Rayleigh looked up, tilting his head just to regard him a little closer. Then he picked up the ring which was still in his hand, to hold it between thumb and index finger. It shimmered golden in the light.

"I doubt you mean the ring," Ray mumbled and Shanks suppressed a huff. Well, the ring was powerful, too, but the other man had been right with his assumption that Shanks indeed didn't mean it. "Oh gosh, Shanks, don't give me that look and rather tell me about this man."

"I didn't give you any look," Shanks replied, crossing his arms now . Maybe he was even pouting a little, because he hadn't given any look. He had just stared at Ray, because the old geezer was more interested in his relationships than in actually doing what Shanks had come for. Not to mention that his love-life wasn't any of Rayleigh's concerns … and he shouldn't think about Benn in this terms. "How do you know it's a man?"

A chuckle next to him caught his attention and he saw Shakky approaching them with a tray in hand, loaded with mugs and plates. Breakfast was probably not the worst idea. It would delay Shanks from ripping Ray's head off.

"It's obvious, Shanks. Also, a 'he' slipped," she simply stated, and placed the tray between them on the small table. Shanks just huffed but said nothing. There was no use, he would never win an argument against Shakky. Especially not when she was right. So he reached for a mug, filled it with coffee and added sugar and milk. Then he took a sip, while Shakky lit herself a cigarette. It was such a familiar gesture, Shanks relaxed a little more at the smell of smoke.

"Are you telling me now why you can't seal it?" he asked as casually as he could, because he didn't want to break the peace that surrounded them. It was a dangerous, fragile thing, because as long as the issue of the ring wasn't clear and fixed, Shanks knew nothing was safe in a mile's radius. He was glad to know that Ray could restrain him if necessary.

"Because there is nothing to be sealed," Ray answered him, his eyes intense. This was no game and Shanks knew he was speaking the truth, as wrong as it may sound. He inhaled deeply, his fingers closing tightly around the mug.

"You said yourself it's black magic, how can there be nothing to be sealed. I even sealed it myself," Shanks said as he exhaled again. He had held his breath to give his former teacher time to add something, but there hadn't been anything more.

"Yes, I know. That is why I knew it is black magic," Ray explained and added, "Shanks. I feel nothing coming from this ring. I wouldn't even recognize it as an owner's ring without the engraving. To me, this is just a normal ring, except for the fact that I feel your seal. A seal to prevent anyone from using it. But no one except you would be able to use it anyway. I doubt anyone else than you can feel the power within it. The black magic stops anyone other than the current owner to ever use this ring."

Mouth slightly open and eyes wide while the air suddenly felt harder to breathe, Shanks could only stare at Rayleigh. The words echoed in his mind, but he couldn't process them. How was this possible? His mind just refused to work properly anymore.

"What does … what does that mean?" Shanks question had been directed at Rayleigh, but it was Shakky who answered. She sat herself next to her husband on the couch, a coffee in her hand as well.

"It does mean that you are the only one that can ever open that necklace."