Trigger Warning: PDSD, Trauma, Violence, Child abuse, Death of a child

Karmen and Camilla step into the workout chamber reluctantly, neither one feeling optimistic about the first day of training. They'd decided that the first day or two would be just them getting used to silk again while the women finished their pottery.

Camilla makes eye contact with Karmen. -Do you want to try?- she signs.

Karmen hesitates. -Together?-

Camilla nods.

They stand and approach the fabric cautiously as if it might be a snake, or in Karmen's case, medicine. They pause before it and give it a cursory examination. The fabric is sleek and silky and it turns Karmen's stomach. Camilla seems fine at this juncture. Karmen feels uncomfortable, but she continues on. She inhales the fabric's scent full of luxury and excess. Her skin instantly breaks out in a rash of goosebumps. Camilla's skin is still completely smooth like the silk before her.

As much as Karmen tries, she can't keep her mind from being filled with the sound of her silk gowns scraping the marble floors of Galaval. She can bear the memory of a sound. In unison with Camilla, she reaches out and brushes a whisper of the fabric with her fingertips. It's cold and slippery like an eel. Her mind flashes to her old, lavish bedroom and she remembers the feel of her silk gowns slipping off her skin to the floor after a tea party in one of the gardens. She feels naked and exposed and completely unsettled, but she's felt this way before and knows how to keep them from impeding her actions. She can manage this.

Karmen looks at Camilla and, despite the chill running down her back, she feels determined to continue.

If you can do it, I can do it.

She takes a deep breath and nods.

Continue.

She reaches out again and grasps the fabric, but she reaches into it with a wrapping motion and the fabric pools around her wrist. Her expression goes blank. Karmen's mind is instantly rocketed far from Batoidea and suddenly she's three years old being bound to a chair in the basement at Valcour. She is standing in the vineyard surrounded by the suffocating smell of grapes. She is standing in Moria's shadow before one of the Warlord's meetings, Kuma and Jinbe nowhere in sight.

She's watching high-ranking marine after high-ranking marine abandon her and the slaves to their fate. She sees bodies being thrown over the cliffs to be feasted upon by Sea Kings. She is in a ball wearing a dress that's far too revealing for her age, being undressed by the eyes of dirty old men. She is standing barefoot with blood squelching between her toes. Commoners and slaves drop under whizzing bullets, cracking whips, hard labor, brutality, starvation, disease, and suicide all in the name of power and wealth and luxury and control.

And there she is, in the middle of it all. Name after name after name burn in her hands.

The silk is wrenched from her hand and a strong arm cradles her protectively. Pierce is suddenly there, imposing himself between her and the offensive fabric. For a moment it's like she's staring into his gray eyes again. Immense safety and security wash over her. She inhales a shuddering breath that may have come from the intense trembling of her body or the constricting muscles in her chest and throat.

"Pierce," she manages to choke out. He sweeps her away from the fabric and suddenly it's easier to breathe. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I can do it. I can... I want to do it. I-"

"Shh," he says softly. "Take a small break. You're alright." His grip tightens around her shoulder and he turns his head toward Camilla. "Perhaps you should rethink this routine." It isn't quite a suggestion.

Karmen pulls herself up enough so that she can see the girl, trying to regain control of her own body long enough to gauge what condition she is in. Camilla is also shaking. Her muscles are tense and her cheeks are wet, but there is a fire in her eyes.

"No," Karmen insists, standing to her feet and taking a moment to ground herself. "Bad memories can't hold us back. This part is crucial to our recovery. If we stop now, we may never have the will to get past it again."

Pierce looks like he'd like to argue, but he straightens and gives a tight nod. "Is there anything that I can do for you?"

She thinks a moment and presses a key into his hand. "Bring operation BlizBear here and set it up for me. It will help keep me… in the present." With something to put his energy toward, Pierce rushes off into the tunnels.

When he's gone, Camilla steps forward. -I understand that he's trying to help, but I would prefer it if he did not hover when we have the other women with us.-

"I know," she says. "I'll… try to have a handle on it by then."

She lowers her hood and bends down a little to look Karmen in the eye. -Are you alright?-

"I'm…" Karmen sighs. -No. Not really. I'm remembering things that I didn't know I remembered if that makes sense. Things I think I blocked out when I was younger. No. I must have. I remember everything that happens, so why would I forget this?-

-Want to talk about it?-

Karmen evaluates her discomfort and the way the memories of the first victims she saw being flayed alive when she was barely more than a toddler makes her stomach twist and her skin crawl. -I think I need to come to terms with it all first, sort it all out… but eventually, yes.- She gives Camilla a better look now that she's beginning to truly calm down. -What about you?-

-Brought up some bad memories, but nothing new.- She says. -I can get it under control.-

-I just want you to know that no matter how badly I react, I'm not going to give up,- Karmen assures her. -I promise.-

-I won't blame you if you need more than two weeks, but I appreciate your effort.-

Pierce returns then with the first set of equipment tucked under one arm and a table under the other. Camilla's demeanor instantly shifts, indicating that all intimate talk is over while he's in the room.

-How will this help?- Camilla asks.

"It's a functional distraction," Karmen explains. "I'll set my project to distill and if I lose myself to my emotions for too long then that portion of the project will be ruined. If I can't get a handle on myself in time then I won't have a surprise ready for the children at the end of the festival."

"And you won't let yourself disappoint the children," she responds.

Karmen dismisses Pierce after she gets her equipment running and politely asks him to leave them to handle whatever reactions she has. He's not happy with it, but he gives in to her request.

They try again with similar results. Karmen loses two batches of snowberries to panic attacks, but true to her process, the smell of burning toxins makes her snap out of it faster. After particularly bad memory flashes, Karmen and Camilla crouch with their knees to their chest and their backs to the silks, breathing heavily and sweating hard despite not getting in a single climb yet.

"Well, I know one thing," Karmen says. "Once I get past this, I'm going to have a good memory of us working hard together to overshadow all of the negative ones."

Camilla chuffs, but smiles. "It's nice that one of us can be optimistic."

"It helps that I've decided on something," she responds. "We don't have to be ok with any of the crap that we went through, but we can decide to not let it control us."

Camilla raises her eyebrow at Karmen. "Is this us not letting it control us?" she asks. "Because I feel… caged."

"Me too," Karmen admits. "But if I don't give myself a goal I'll go mad, and then where would we be?"

"Here, with the rest of us, trying to piece back together what little we have left," Camilla states, then chuckles. "But it's kind of nice to know that you aren't super-human, despite everything that you're capable of. It… makes me feel that the rest of us have a chance."

Karmen laughs with her. "I'm glad my trauma is good for something," she says. "Alright. I think I'm ready for round 14."

Patients had poked their heads in and quietly backed away a few at a time. No one ever said anything, but everyone understood. By the end of the day, Camilla is able to climb the silks with only goosebumps and a firm set to her jaw. Karmen, however, is only able to hold onto the silk for five minutes at a time. She sends Camilla off to dinner by herself while she sits with her toxins.

After around sunset, Winston brings down a plate of food and a flask of something that she's pretty sure isn't alcohol. He gives her the plate and sits down next to her. The chamber seems too big for the two of them, but also incredibly small and intimate. He lets her eat in silence, then hands her the flask. She pops the cap and catches the scent wafting from inside. Star scorpion venom. She takes a deep swig.

"You know," she says softly, breaking the silence, "the last time I wore silk, I died. I can't seem to be around the fabric without thinking of them."

"I'm not my Godwin, and I don't know how he would approach this, but I know that you're going through something and I wanted to remind you that you're not alone," he says as the warmth of the venom settles in her stomach and cheeks. "Forget that I'm your silk-loving tailor for a moment and tell me why this is so difficult for you, sweetie."

Karmen takes another swig and lets it settle before she talks. "I'm scared, Winston," she tells him, throat tightening a bit. "There's all the bad things, the torture, the death, the fear… but then there's another level beneath that." She takes another swig. "Would it make you happy to hear that it's not the silk itself that I dislike so much?"

"That depends," he says, careful to restrain that eye sparkle. "What is it that you do dislike?"

"The wealth of it. The luxury. Of course, I loved everything you made for me," she says. "As much as I hated everything else, part of me loved getting anything that I wanted at the drop of a hat. The ease. Dressing up and feeling… comfortable in my own skin. The authority. Watching unscrupulous marines squirm at a single word… Power like what the Dragons have… there's a reason why they're all corrupt and drunk with it. It's intoxicating."

He gives a considerate nod. "That's reasonable. I cannot say that I do not miss the luxuries that having that clientele provided me," he says. "It's understandable that after all you've lived with and through that you would be afraid that you might go down a darker path."

"So would I be crazy if I told you they left some darkness in me?" she asks, giving him a smile. She meant it to be teasing but it twisted with pain. "That when I think about what they've done I want to wreak havoc?"

"I'm not sure," he responds. "Do you want to inflict needless pain on others less fortunate than yourself?"

"No."

"Do you want to murder or dispose of people who stand in the way of your goals?"

"Not to that extreme."

"Do you not feel that you are the leader of our recovery team here on Batoidea Island and out in the field recovering those who have been enslaved?"

"I'm in charge here… just not of myself. Not today at least."

"Do you want to subjugate people against their will?"

"No."

"Do you want to live in the lap of luxury and live a safe, problem-free life and remain blind to the problems of this world and the suffering of others?"

"Of course not."

"Do you wish to hoard the power that you do have over people in cruel and malicious ways?"

"No."

"Then I think allowing yourself to enjoy a little bit of luxury is something you can permit, even if it doesn't happen all at once," he says. "You're too kind and caring at heart to let yourself become like them. If you'd like, I can help ease you back into a healthy amount of self-indulgence."

She gives him a soft smile. "You and your subtle self-indulging manipulations are sweet," she says. "I can't promise anything soon, or at all, but I'll try to decide if that's something that I would be comfortable with."

"It's your choice," he says softly. "Either way, thank you for being honest with me. We're here for you, Karmen."

"Winston?"

"Yes?"

"I think I might need some kind of body suit to handle the silk for now. Something that will lessen the contact with my skin."

"I'll do what I can."

"Thank you, Winston. For everything."

He leaves, taking the plate and leaving the flask. Karmen finishes her current batch of distilling before she finishes her flask and lets the time tick away into the early morning hours. As she senses the last patients slipping into sleep, she moves toward the silk again. She breathes deeply, willing herself to step fully into the fire.

Slowly, she drapes the silk around her shoulders and turns in a slow circle until she's completely wrapped in the silk down to her ankles. The memories come flooding in. The emotions threaten to drown her. She lets them. Who she was. Who she is. The transforming shape of who she could be.

Her knees give out beneath her and she sinks into the sleek fabric. Her body shakes and her chest aches. For the first time in a year, she dawns her cloak to let herself sob and screams openly and freely until she falls asleep encased in silk.

What happened yesterday?"

"Man, she really looks like crap, doesn't she?"

"Don't say that!"

"Why not? She's not our master. She's not going to beat or kill us for being honest."

"It's still rude! Have some common decency."

"Look, there's an empty flask next to her."

"Did she get drunk?"

"No! Don't touch that! Who knows what crazy mixture she drank. It could dissolve your fingers or something."

"She works with poisons, not acids."

"Aren't some of them the same thing?"

"Shh! I think she's waking up."

Karmen takes stock of herself in her current position. Someone had pulled the silk away from her and knotted it up off the ground. The fabric had been replaced by thick scratchy wool. It doesn't take much brain-function to figure out that it's Camilla's cloak. She has a pounding headache and her whole body aches with exhaustion. She has dirt all over her and her hair is tangled at odd angles, hinting that she'd tossed and turned all night.

"Only gross pig train chefs use acidic poisons." She sits up, holding her head and emitting a loud groan. Instantly she wishes she hadn't. It echoes around the cavern walls and assaults her ears. "Must you dears be so loud?"

-They're not loud. You just self-medicated,- Camilla steps into the room, signing around a thermos. She tosses it to Karmen who reaches for it three seconds after it sails past her head. -How much did you drink?-

"Enough for your hands to be loud," she mutters. "I blame Winston and his instigating kindness. He's the sweetest jerk on this island, I swear."

-Didn't know Iona and I had competition-

Karmen snorts and takes three attempts to pick up the thermos behind her. Finally she just rolls toward it, scoops it up in a wide arm to sweep it into her hands, uncorks it, and immediately chokes on the first swig. She'd been expecting water, but what's inside this metal cantine is some ungodly concoction with chunks.

She coughs until she can breathe again, then gives Camilla a scowl. "Are you trying to poison me with medicine? You know that's not good for anybody."

-It's a hangover cure that the kitchen staff whipped up.-

"I see. I have a hangover," Karmen states, taking another swig and making a face. "This is a new experience for me. I feel irritable and might say things I don't mean." She looks over at the nine women looking awkwardly between her and Camilla. "But if it makes any of you uncomfortable, feel free to say so. Like…" she scans the surrounding women with her finger, but can't connect faces to voices, "one of you said, I'm not going to punish you for getting something off your chest."

One of the women eyes Karmen. "Looks like you could get a little dirt off yours."

Karmen looks down at the grime covering her and shrugs. "I'll take a bath after our morning practice."

Another woman raises her eyebrow. "Forgive me for saying, sugar, but you don't look like you're in any condition to even stand."

"Nonsense." She pushes to her feet and directly teeters forward. Camilla catches her, recovering her cloak in the process. The room spins. "Vertigo. Lovely. I hereby place a curse on a certain swordsman and a navigator and a lovable buffoon who can drink to their heart's content and be perfectly fine in the morning. I'm going to catch up, you monsters! Ow, my head..."

Camilla sighs and pushes the thermos to Karmen's lips. "Shut up and drink it already."

Karmen complies, though she feels indignant about it. After a few minutes the horrible taste wakes her up a little more and she's able to get her feet under her.

While she's trying to decide if the horrible concoction actually wants to stay in her stomach, she looks around and tries to get her eyes to focus on the other women in the room. As she recognizes a face and a voice, she exercises her brain, trying to remember what she knows about them.

There's Rosales Izzie, an average-sized woman with lean muscles, coal-black hair that is swept back into a tight bun, and skin the color of warm sand. A large, curving scar framed her eye and the left side of her face down to her jawline. Despite the clear trauma she lived through, her full lips are set to match the determined fire in her eyes. With the passionate flair in her step, her Dressrosian origins are clear.

Knights Pixie is a lean woman in her early twenties with pale skin, a pointed nose, who wears her hair in a short bob. If it wasn't for the hoof-print brand poking out of her sleeve, it would be hard to know right off the bat that she had endured trauma. Her thin lips carry an ever-present smile, but Karmen had observed enough craft-therapy to know that her light smile hides an explosive temper.

Clayton Caprice has long white hair that sheened green in certain lights. She had been a runner in her younger years and was no stranger to betrayal. Her spirit had broken eventually. This has left her nervous, not quite convinced that the island wouldn't be overrun by marines or bounty hunters at any moment. She spends most of her time inside and out of the sun, giving her an unhealthy translucence to her skin that Saaresto had been desperately but gently trying to resolve.

Phan Tala is a short woman with terracotta-colored skin and a goldenrod afro of curls. Her lack of height reflects the poor nutrition she had as a child. Her round cheeks are often pulled into a smile no matter her mood. As long as she's around people she's loud, energetic, and joyful. This visage is all a covering distraction for the panic attacks she has when she's alone too long.

Irving Nadia is a teenager that has a long face and even longer light brown hair. Her purple eyes barely blink as they take in every detail of her surroundings. She keeps the bangs over one eye to hide the fact that one eyebrow is permanently burned off. She tries to draw it back on, but her hands are unsteady from other past injuries and the results are never to her satisfaction. Her hawkish features and long legs give her a visage of a bird of prey. Most people feel unsettled around her, but her movements are always slow and gentle despite her capability to do otherwise.

Wheeler Evie is a bright, freckle-faced, middle-aged woman who may or may not have ADHD. She is constantly spinning to look at one thing or another, her dark red curls bobbing away, creating a dizzying energy that you couldn't help but love. She has a delight for learning and devoured any literature that Karmen brought back to the island. She can often be found reciting facts that other people might find interesting on compulsion.

Quinn Traci is a woman with ebony skin with dark, suspicious eyes. Her kinky hair is often pulled into a large bun and her thick lips are rarely seen outside of a scowl. She has the air of a dangerous beast which generally causes other people to keep their distance. Despite her defensive demeanor, Karmen can tell that she's quietly happy, and perhaps even relieved, that Camilla had asked her to join.

Stanley Yasha is a woman of simple beauty with large coke-bottle glasses and a cute mole on her pointed chin. Her silver hair falls to the middle of her back. Her spattering of freckles across her cheeks often get hidden under smears of dirt as she uses weeding the gardens as an excuse to study the insects on the island. Some of the rowdier boys had tripped over her more than once because she'd been following insects on her belly to sketch them in a notebook. Her details are impeccable.

Austin Wendy is more a Southern Bell than anyone else on the island making her one of Winston's favorites. Her blond ringlets often rest under a lacey hat and Karmen had never seen her outside of a pastel-colored dress or without a parasol, even underground. She has a quick wit and a sharp tongue. Beneath her sweetly dismissive behavior she carries a strong hesitance to trust and befriend others.

They all look capable and had proven adept in self-defense courses, but all of them were struggling to make progress in Saaresto's therapy sessions. None of them liked discussing their past, no matter how bitterly it sat on their tongues. Perhaps Camilla was the person to help them.

"Alright, we're here to practice, yes? Let's get this show on the road." Karmen reaches up to unknot the silk.

Camilla, who had been fastening her cloak, gasps and reaches out too late to stop her. "Karmen, wait! Don't-"

But Karmen had already touched it. She can feel the panic filling her and sees the flashes of horrible memories. Her skin prickles with cold and goosebumps. Her stomach turns and this time its contents turn with it. Fading quickly, she stumbles over to her distilling table where she immediately begins to vomit into a large beaker. Somewhere at the end of the process she uncloaked herself and can now feel ten sets of eyes boring into her back.

"Fine," she mutters. "I'll at least get over this hangover first, but I'm not giving up." She carried her sullied beaker to be emptied and cleaned at some point after her head stops pounding.

The other women watch her go in silence, Camilla with concern. However, as Karmen makes her exit, she hears Camilla clear her throat and draw the attention to herself, managing to mutter out, "T-Today we'll be doing a f-fitness test. We'll begin the dance training a-after I know your strengths." There is a different anxiety to her when she's the one in charge than when she normally speaks in front of people.

The entire way up to the women's bath, she curses scheming tailors and pirates with iron livers. She dumps her beaker and sets it to soak before she draws her own bath, sinking deep into the water and closing her eyes. She stays there until the water has gone long cold and her headache fades. She may have even fallen back to sleep at some point.

She'd expected herself to be pruney when she got out, but her fingers and toes are perfectly smooth. She dresses, combs out her hair with a scrunch of the hair cream Pierce makes for her and gets something to eat, trading the empty thermos for a large canteen of water. She writes letters while she drinks it. She sends them out and spends some time with the ray and squid. She walks the beach. She speaks with Julimes about a special construction. She eats again. By midafternoon, she feels calm and ready to try again.

The workout chamber is empty except for a few people painting pottery. She cloaks herself so she won't disturb them and approaches the gracefully draped silk. Inhaling a deep breath, she squares up to it, letting the dirt that's squishing between her bare toes ground her.

"Listen here. You're just fabric and I'm a living, human being. You were spat up by worms. Worm-gland puke isn't going to beat me," she declares in ancient Elbafian. It's ridiculous, she knows, but it makes her feel better. More in control. So she continues. "I sail with monsters and I plan on being just as strong. I won't let you defeat me here! My name is Valentine Welsh Karmen and I will have you begging for mercy at my feet!"

"Karmen?"

She turns around to see Camilla walking toward her and immediately feels foolish. "Hello. Sorry about this morning. I should have more composure."

The girl scrutinizes her, then steps toward the other ribbon of silk. "I want to try something. Sync with me and tell me about your time-release poisons."

Karmen does as she's told and finds herself following along as Camilla circles the fabric like a tiger stalking its prey. "It's not perfect yet. I barely have a grasp on the concept," she says as their fingers brush the silk, testing it like a shark.

The dual focus on her mind does well to combat the negative emotions for her concentration.

"I've been studying Sherryl's venom and I've managed to lessen the time-delay to an hour. Shorter times or longer stints are still not in my wheelhouse." Their hand brushes through the silk and the fabric rolls off their skin. Karmen can get by with just a shiver. "I found there's a protein that binds the toxin to key locations, but it dissolves after the allotted time. I'm trying to figure out how to bind that with other venoms and redirect it to other body systems. I think I'm close to a breakthrough."

Camilla reaches out and grabs the silk, not hesitating to climb it. Karmen's body mirrors her movements, but the memories overtake her mind and her muscles seize. With a panicked gasp, she loses her grasp and slips painfully to the ground, landing heavily on her tailbone. Camilla instantly drops and hurries to her side. "Are you alright?"

Karmen wants to say yes, but her throat squeezes the words down into her stomach and her eyes prickle with tears. "I should be. It's been years since I've seen anyone tortured and mutilated in front of me. It's been years since I've lived under their thumb. I should be past this. I don't understand why I'm not past this," she says.

In her own ears it sounds whiney, though she knows they came out calmer than she feels. She wants the words out more than she cares about how they sound. At the moment she wants nothing more than to curl up in the crook of Kuma's arm and fall asleep where she feels safe and secure. She wants the memories to leave her head so that she might have a moment of peace to prepare for the festival.

Camilla settles beside her and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Some memories are like time-release poisons. They build up in your system and you might not even know that it's there. But when that protein releases it and it hits, you can only try to combat the symptoms," she says.

As Karmen considers this, she continues.

"I might not be the best person to give you a pep-talk, so I'll repeat what you've been telling everyone else. There is no time limit for pain and grief. There is no deadline for recovery. It's possible that you might never be ok with what happened. True, not getting better as fast as you'd like is frustrating and makes it that much harder, but it's important to be kind to yourself and allow yourself patience," she says. "You've said it to me again and again, so why do you not give yourself the same freedom?"

"I feel like I'm not a good leader if I allow myself to fall apart." She admits, shaking her head. "I don't want to be unavailable if I'm needed."

"But what do you need?" Camilla asks softly. "I think we've proven on your days galavanting through slave operations that we are pretty self-sufficient. You made sure of it. We would survive if you took a few days to figure things out."

"I haven't been this afraid in a long time," Karmen admits. " I don't know how to be anything else. I'm not broken, exactly, but I'm not whole either. I don't know who I'm meant to be. I'm afraid to change. I don't know what version of me will be standing on the other side."

Camilla chuckles. "If I figure that one out before you do, I'll let you know," she says. "I'm not afraid of much anymore. I've looked my worst fears in the face and had them consume me. I don't know if it's possible to be… right after what we've been through, but you've taught me at least one thing while I've been here. As long as you surround yourself with people who genuinely care about you, it will bring out your best side, even if you thought you'd lost it."

Karmen gives a small chuff. "You know, for a punk teenager, you're not bad at giving pep-talks, even if half of it is just reminding people of what they've said." She squeezes her toes a few times, shifting the dirt around beneath them. "If I can't get past this by the festival, will you cancel the routine?"

"No," she states. "I'll have you do twice the work and learn the groundwork with the other women. I want to prove that I can guide them effectively."

"No matter what happens, I'll be watching carefully to make sure that I evaluate your efforts fairly," Karmen promises.

"Don't worry about me for now," Camilla says. "Take a few days to clear your head."

Karmen works on her toxins, eyeballing the silk every now and then. She isn't ready yet. She knows it. She just has to accept it and let her frustrated mind process at its own pace. Saaresto had once told her that the brain handles trauma much in the way it does in getting over a breakup, not that she knew what that was like. He said it takes half the time of the experience to get over it. It had already been four years. She's not sure she wants to wait another five to seven years to be over it all.

And then there's the "her" in it. That twisting, controlling, sometimes vindictive person locked deep inside. The serpent warming itself on the rock lodged in her throat. She's never seen a snake that she's hated, but if she adores this one, will its venom destroy her? She could try to approach it diplomatically and see if it had a mild temper. If not, she could always shove it in a box and throw it metaphorical mice to keep it appeased. But then it would always long for the sunlight that she promised herself. And cornered snakes tend to bite.

Despite feeling ridiculous, this visualization helps her to give it a shape and a form. She reaches a point in her distilling process that she can sit down and meditate on this "viper." Maybe she's not ready to approach it just yet, but she can at least follow its trail back to its nest and find out where it came from. Not to disturb it, but to identify and understand it.

The imaginary tracks in her mind show a slow and steady caterpillar-like movement in the soft dirt indicating a steady progression forward. It hadn't been in limbo since Hita's death. It hadn't always been there. It had moved forward with her over the years. Quiet patience. A quality that hadn't been expected. She continues further back until she reaches a cave.

It's a sound that draws her in. A constant ebb and flow. The trail through the cave led to the sea.

Oh.

Karmen sends a trail of haki through the tunnels at a frequency that only one person can hear. Pierce joins her in less than three minutes. His footsteps are hurried, like he had been waiting impatiently for word from her. "You called, Mistress?"

"Dance with me?" she requests.

He's at her side in an instant, putting his hands in position for a slower dance. "What style do you request?"

"Salsa," she petitions. "Dressrosan Salsa."

He gives a small start. "That's… more assertive than I was expecting."

"I need to sweat."

"As you wish, Mistress."

Though Pierce dances the male part, it is clear that Karmen has the lead. He lets her set the pace which is so fast that their feet barely touch the ground. Pierce can keep up, but he does not dance for himself. That's not what she needs.

As they spin into a lock-twirl hand switch, Karmen's movements become more aggressive and violent. Her feet stomp into the dirt and her arms fling out as if she's trying to cut the very air. Her shine combination might as well have been clawing and kicking invisible enemies. In the lock n' load combo she is a whirlwind. A force of nature. Pierce finds the sound of it all beautifully free. By the end of it, she is panting, drenched in sweat. She lets herself drop to all fours where she inhales shuddering breaths.

Pierce kneels before her, hands on his thighs, chest heaving. He doesn't need to say anything. His presence alone says everything he needs to convey. This is a process he knows well.

Karmen sits back until she's sitting with her legs crossed and her shoulders slumped. "I think I'm about to go through some changes and I'm not sure I'll like who I become," she tells him. "So I need you by my side to keep me human and sane."

"Where is this coming from? What changed?" he asks.

"I'm still trying to figure that out. But yesterday I remembered the first time I was ever taken to the basement. The first torture."

He knows she wouldn't bring it up if she didn't want to talk about it, so he quietly waits for her to collect the words.

"There was a slave girl around my age. Hita. She was the first person outside the family I ever wanted to befriend. It was small at first. Hide and seek. Sneaking her away from work to tell secrets. Tea parties in the topiaries. Sharing my food... I started playing with her more and more and they didn't think that was proper of someone being raised as a Dragon," she tells him.

"So Ikaika took us to his special playroom in the basement and tied me to a chair with silk so I wouldn't bruise when I struggled. He strung her up and flayed her apart bit by bit. He kept watching me as if he wanted something. Whatever it was, he didn't find it, so he'd keep on going. He didn't stop until morning, even after she was dead. I remember screaming and wailing until I passed out. I chose to block it all out," she continues. "It makes me wonder what else I don't remember."

"Toddlers aren't meant to have those kinds of memories," Pierce says softly. "Maybe forgetting it was for the best at the time."

"I was in a family of monsters. And there's a monster inside me too. A potential to be destructive and dangerous," she says. "Fight fire with fire, right? If I am to sail with a crew of monsters and beat him, I might have to become one myself. I… just don't know how much of myself I'd lose to achieve this goal. I think I might be more like them than I want to admit."

Pierce flops over on his back in the dirt. "Come here." Confused and a little concerned, she lies down next to him, looking up at the cavern ceiling. "Close your eyes. Listen to the island."

She does. Small animals scuttle blindly along the walls. Insects crawl through the dirt. Vibrations from distant footsteps and voices make the whole island dance. There is water flowing. The surrounding ocean is peppered with rays nestled in the still sand. Singing. Laughter. Anticipation. Life.

"One of the things that I've learned here is that Ikaika and Willow were only two people out of many. All those crooked, wicked people, no matter how powerful they are, they're so small in comparison. Mind you, I still want to crush them like the insects they are, but we had so many other people who held back their darkness. People who made that life worth living. Even without my eyes, I can see the path that they paved for us. Proving that we won't face them alone. We can learn from it all and avoid taking the wrong branch. Even though your struggles, you still shine brightly. Too bright to be consumed by any darkness you might bear."

Karmen reaches out and takes his hand, firmly interlocking her fingers with his. "You got me through a great deal of that darkness," she tells him softly. "Kuma and Godwin did what they could, but I couldn't have made it without you. I'm glad I met you, Pierce."

He gives her hand a gentle squeeze. "Me too."

The next day Winston had finished the bodysuit Karmen had requested and she shows up to practice with the Scorpions-to-be. She works through stretches with them and listens to Camilla shakily walk them through safety guidelines and the basics of the routine.

Tala looks back at Karmen uncertainly. "Pardon my forwardness, miss Karmen, but… will you be able to dance with us?" It's no secret that Pierce had confiscated all her weapons and weaponized poisons for the duration. She feels naked and exposed and not entirely sure how to answer that question.

Karmen takes her time to answer the woman with a shaky expression. "Don't you worry about me, dear," she says. "I can get over my silk aversion in two weeks. For sure. With my history, learning the dance itself won't take very long."

The group doesn't look very convinced and some are even giving her sympathetic glances.

Karmen tries to smile more reassuringly. "I've… never had a group to dance with before. It will be nice not being the only person in the spotlight for once."

Camilla approaches the silk with a hesitant eye on Karmen. "Do you think it might be too soon to test yourself again?" she asks.

Karmen gives her a determined look. "I know I won't be alright, but I'm not hungover now and I have this bodysuit now. I believe I will manage a bit better." She steps forward and eyes the silk cautiously before looking to Camilla. "Same procedure as last time?"

The girl nods. "Tell me about a snake this time." The sync happens and they begin circling in unison.

"The largest viper is the Gaboon," Karmen says, imagining its unique brown, grey, and white patterning. "It produces the second-largest amount of venom of any snake, but it is docile and rarely bites. Its venom is cytotoxic, meaning it causes cell death which leads to swelling, blistering, and necrosis."

They grab the silk and get a feel for it, letting it play across their arms. Karmen instantly starts shaking, but the hand cover on her suit acts as a shield. She can manage that. She continues through the strain.

"Its smaller cousin, the Rhinoceros viper, is brightly colored in a similar pattern with blues, reds, and yellows. It has scales on its nose that look like horns and rough scales that could cut your hand," she says. "Their venom contains hemotoxic venom, which destroys red blood cells and causes buildup in the liver and kidney that makes organs fail, and neurotoxins, which disrupt or destroy neurons, causing cognitive and motor dysfunctions.

"These two snakes are ambush predators. Though they have prehensile tails, which are good for climbing, they prefer to stay hidden in brush on the ground. They make loud hissing sounds through their noses when disturbed."

Camilla leads into a climb and Karmen follows right along, though the shaking makes it hard to maintain her grip and a cold sweat breaks out across her skin. Her voice trembles with the mental effort it takes to keep going.

"The Gabino viper is a hybrid of these. It has a brighter color pattern than its parents and can take qualities from both, including a mixture of all three venoms. It's smaller like the rhino, nocturnal, and also placid, but it has a lightning-fast strike and shouldn't be underestimated. Like its parents, it can lie still for days at a time waiting for the right time to ambush its prey. It is a perfect union." It's the viper she visualizes inside her when she closes her eyes.

"You did it." Camilla's proud voice cuts in. "You're making great progress."

Karmen looks up, expecting to see yards of silk above her. But instead, she sees the wrung it's hung from. Despite her shuddering muscles and her now soaked bodysuit, she's at the top of the ribbons.

Karmen swallows and smiles over at Camilla with an expression of disbelief. "Eyes forward."