The fishing boat knocked against the old wooden harbor. Valentine was off in a rush, he didn't want to be stuck behind the workers as they unloaded their haul of fish. He felt more comfortable when his feet hit solid ground. He never spent much time at sea and hadn't quite gotten his sea legs, or sea stomach.
"Two hours, son," the captain said, "We will unload this, get a bite at the lodge, then be sailing off in two hours. Be here on time, we won't wait for you."
"I understand," Valentine said. He watched as crewmen unloaded barrels and crates and was grateful that he had paid his way onto the ship as a passenger, and needn't work for his bunk. He leaned on the railing, studying the dozens of different ships in the harbor. His minds eye painted them with cannon fire flashes and smoke, laying waste to another island.
Cannon fire split the air. Valentine's heart leapt into his throat. Time seemed to grind to a halt. A second cannon fired, and his vision floated out of his body. He watched from a distance as his body dove into a coil of rope. He was curled into a ball and shaking when the third cannon split the air.
His body shook with aftershocks of the Buster Call. The image of his barren island plagued his thoughts. Every time he closed his eyes, it was painted on the inside of his eyelids. He used his practiced technique, to push the image down into the depths of his mind where he could forget it.
"Relax, it's only the 4'clock fire." He was ripped him back into his body, and he shoot onto his feet. Save for the stranger, he was alone. The stranger had long hair, wet from the ocean, and intense golden eyes. He wore an open coat, and a necklace with thick pendants. "You're Valentine, Niramor's runaway. I recognize you."
The name Niramor lit fire in his veins. Inside his jacket, Valentine gripped the handle of his knife. It had a nasty forward curve and an edge honed to a razor.
"Am I correct?" the stranger said.
"How do you know those names? Who are you?" he asked.
"I can explain later, you need to come with me. Now." The stranger grabbed onto Valentine's wrist, erupting a wave of anxiety in him. Hot adrenaline fired through his veins and his eyes grew wild.
"Don't touch me!" Valentine snapped, ripping his hand back. It took everything he had to avoid a scene, andnotslice into the aggressive stranger.
"Stubborn…" the stranger cursed, "You know you have a bounty, right? I found your poster, and so did the sailors that brought you in." Valentine eyed him suspiciously, his knife hand twitching. "They could be back any minute now. I'm not here to turn you in, I couldn't even if i wanted to." The man passed him two bounty posters from within the folds of his jacket. The left was an unmistakable drawing of the stranger, though his beard had been shaved.
WANTED
DEAD ONLY
Asada Redwin
Before he could read more, Redwin folded it up and returned it to his jacket. The right poster held a familiar face.
WANTED
ALIVE ONLY
Valentine
10,000,000 Berries
Valentine is an escaped Marine fugitive, if seen do not offer him assistance. He is not to be harmed.
Bring information or his safe return to Niramor, standing Marine Captain of Navy BaseS-8.
The picture of him was startlingly accurate, and drawn with great attention to even the smallest details of his appearance. The artist matched his sunken cheeks, sharp cheekbones, and mop of dark hair perfectly. It seemed Niramor had spared no details, and no expense.
Valentine assessed his Red really was telling the truth, and none of the bounties were fake, it didn't create any trust in Valentine. It was common for pirates and criminals to seek underhanded deals with marine officials, trading bounty targets for a clean wipe of their record.
If Red was lying however-
"I'm telling the truth," He answered, as if reading his mind. "I know what Niramor's done to you, which means she's after both of us. I'm here to get you to safety, I'm not your enemy"
Valentine relaxed his grip on his knife, but didn't release it.
"Where would we go?" Valentine risked a question.
"Ishport, I have family there that will keep us safe." Red said, and Valentine sensed no deceit in his words. He didn't have another way off the island, and he couldn't just stay here and wait for the sailors to return. He had to abandon them. At the very least Red was pretending to be helping him, which still made him a better choice. If all else failed, he still had his knife.
"Alright." Valentine let go of the knife and relaxed his stance. "I'll go with you for now, Red. When are we leaving?" Sailing away from the island was an attractive prospect, no matter what Red's true allegiance was.
"I'm afraid our boat is actually sailing past now."
Valentine whirled around, where a passenger vessel was passing beside the docks, aiming to leave the harbor. It was tantalizingly close, a mere 20 yards from the docks.
Before Valentine could ask 'What now?', Red wrapped his arms around him and leapt into the air, dragging Valentine along with him. Within the space of a heartbeat, he leapt off three times off air, as if it were solid ground. Valentine felt a great lurch, and his stomach rattled around his body. His vision filled with red, and spun off into cold blackness.