Chapter 2
Conscription
…Maxwell sat in a bed, with a lap-tray over his thighs.
On it was a simple bowl of basil and lentil soup.
…The bed was nice—a bit firmer than he liked, but Maxwell wasn't about to complain. The soft cotton sheets were light, and the brown-red duvet was nice and warm. They didn't itch and they had that quality of freshness you come to expect with an inn. Which he supposed was an expectation of royalty.
…Honestly, it was more than what Maxwell had been expecting.
Maxwell, a pirate, had been set up in one of the palace guest rooms instead of the dungeons. There, he had a view of the bailey, courtyard, and the battlements. The grass was freshly mowed, the paths were swaths of gravel, and several trimmed hedges lined both the walls and walkways. And beyond the battlements was the sea. Creamy Mist Castle was almost an island to itself, connected by drawbridges to the mainland Maruchi in the natural shallow moat.
A shame he couldn't appreciate the view though. It was well past sunset, and the courtyard was lit by torches.
He considered the room as spacious, especially when he had been sharing a room with 8 guys the last few months. The room had a cabinet wardrobe, containing sheets for the curtained bed. A wash basin with a mirror hung on the wall, with pitcher of water. Then there was the privy behind another door to the corner. Maxwell hadn't looked inside yet, but he half expected a glittering washroom with silver fosets, a golden tub, and a platinum encased toilet seat.
…Maxwell really wasn't sure what to make of all this!
Here he was, sitting in the lap of luxury, while his friends were all who-knows-where…!
He had recently undergone surgery for his left arm, and Maxwell was thankful for it. That was partially why he was in this bed. As soon as the came to the castle, the king had personally instructed his physician to set up for the operation. And the doctor was quirky enough to get it done right away!
He had been asleep for most of it. Dr. Indigo had drugged Maxwell with a sedative as they tied rubber tubes to constrict his arteries. Maxwell barely remembered falling asleep. Next thing he knew, he was lying in bed with bandages wrapped around his left arm, and the crystal cap was gone!
After working through his grogginess, Maxwell had immediately started performing a healing spell. It wasn't that he didn't trust the surgeon…
Actually, scratch that, he didn't trust the surgeon. She looked like crazed alchemist with skin like beef jerky! Oh, He wasn't ungrateful, by any means, but a royal suddenly offering him medical care, room, and board was still suspicious.
They had taken his weapons, his armor, his foci, and basically had him at their mercy while he was under. It was only a miracle he managed to grab the vivre cared before he was knocked out. When he awoke, his fist was clenched so tightly Maxwell thought his fingernails drew blood. He feared what he would do had he lost that...
Anyways, the magic penetrated the bandages. He could feel the prickly sensation of his flesh melding together, but it was slower then he would have liked.
Afterwards, he took of the bandages revealing a handspan length of forearm. A smooth stump with a patchy white line around the base. They must have shaved away a few grams of flesh, removed some bone, then stitched the "v" shaped incision together to create the seam. He wrapped the bandages back on him afterward. Maxwell may be healed but the wound was still fresh, and he remembered Chopper's lessons enough to know how to keep things sanitized.
The maid had soon found him awake soon after that, and brought him the soup. It wasn't too bad… but the taste just made him miss Sanji's cooking, bastard though he was… Sanji had a way to make flavour roll off the tongue and swirl in your mouth…!
Dammit.
Maxwell slurped up another spoonful of the lentil soup.
Then there was a knock on the door.
"Come in!" Maxwell replied, and King Cello then entered the room, followed by a maid and butler.
The maid was typical enough, but the butler was a hunchback! That drew his eye! Dressed in a black and white tuxedo, holding a chair, he set it down beside the bed while the maid took away his empty bowl and tray.
Then they immediately left the room, leaving Maxwell alone with the king. He barely had any time to greet them.
"…Good evening," the king greeted him. "Apologies, that we didn't introduce ourselves earlier. I am King Aedan Duran Cello the IV, ruler of the Creamy Mist Archipelago. You have our condolences about the loss of your hand."
"…Thank you, your majesty," Maxwell nodded towards the king, appreciating the sympathy, if a little forced. "You are most gracious, and generous, to treat me a well as you have. I am most grateful."
Cello smiled, leaning back in his chair, "…So you do know some of the subtleties of being a noble. Good, I don't have time for boot lickers. We can speak plainly. I expect you have questions?"
Three questions came to mind. But Maxwell decided to ask this one first, "…Where in the world am I, exactly?" You'd think that would be a simple question, but Maxwell was no cartographer. Plus, there are no designated landmarks when you're flying over the ocean.
The king frowned, "Again, you are in the Creamy Mist Archipelago," then Cello caught onto his meaning, "Ah, you mean where is that. We are situated approximately halfway through the Grand Line, on the side of Paradise. We ARE affiliated with The World Government, but you won't have to worry about any marines, for now."
Maxwell stiffened, suddenly remembering Ace's execution deadline, and the marines who found him. "Are they not occupying the archipelago?"
"Only a handful are still at the marine base, out in Oligo. Low ranking officers and chore-boys mostly, with their lieutenant commander." Cello waved his hand dismissively. "I have an arrangement with the vice-admiral that's usually in charge. So long as we supply the base with food and necessities, Jonathan is willing to bend the rules on our behalf."
"Okay…" Maxwell nodded, briefly thinking about navigation and how to get back to Sabaodey. "What exactly did I interrupt, when I landed? It looked like you guys were in the middle of a festival."
King Cello huffed in amusement, "No harm done, Mr. Maxwell. It was just the opening ceremonies to our nation's most popular event, the Treasure Wars! In fact it's why you're not at the G-8 base right now! We welcome pirates during our little games here! Your arrival did interrupt my speech, but the festivities will continue regardless. I've already sent a herald continue on in my stead."
Maxwell grimaced. Was disrupting the festival intentional on Kuma's part? …Who knew what was going through that Warlord's head?
However, saying that the king didn't go back into town brought up another question, "…Who was that woman, in the square?"
"Ah, yes… her." Cello sighed as if thinking back on better times. "Once upon a time, her name was Solona Elessia von Helsing. But now it's just Helsing, or that's how she prefers to be referred to now a days," the king said solemnly. "She was my niece, but due to… extraordinary circumstances, she is no longer my heir to the throne."
"Your heir?" Maxwell asked. Most nobles he knew didn't exactly care about relatives unless there was some sort of business transaction going on… However, to be fair, Maxwell may have been colouring his perceptions based of his birth family. "Is she your secret daughter or something?"
"Heavens no!" The king barked, but quickly became solemn. "No, sadly… as I am currently without any children, Solona was expected to be the next in line. Unfortunately, she has a bit of a sour reputation in the archepelago. People believe my sister and her husband were both killed in an some sort of accident, caused by Solona. But I don't believe that."
"Since that tragedy though, she has turned to a life of…" Cello mashed his lips as if trying to find the right word, "…delinquency. Solona fancies herself a pirate, sailing around the archipelago and bullying our citizens. However, she has only been little more than just a nuisance, till late. The marines and I had tried several methods to bring her back in line, but she has been amazingly adept at avoiding capture."
"Sounds like a rebel," Maxwell commented.
"Yes, she is…" Cello's face slowly turned into a frown, "And I suppose that brings up why we saw her in the square."
"…The assassination attempt," Maxwell replied carefully. "The one meant on your life." Maxwell wasn't ignorant. Those robed fanatics hadn't been lying in wait for him. It was like their attention was split, trying to choose between him and the king.
"Yes…" Cello sighed. "My guards have identified the assailants as members of the Children of Nightmare cult, as we thought. They have been a plague on our island for a while now. Nobles and commoners alike have been harassed by their fanatics."
Curiously, Cello handed Maxwell a folder he had on his person. "We have evidence to implicate them behind several robberies, and 4 different kidnappings. However, whenever these cultists are confronted, they have yet to be detained. Multiple reports state how they used smoke to escape, even when they were completely surrounded. Cornered, where escape should have been impossible! Others have either slit their throats or fell off great heights to die."
"So this cult is acting like some out of control thieves guild?" the mage guessed. Maxwell, admittedly, didn't know a lot about cults. The Chantry in the Circle did exactly allow much in terms of religious diversity. There were only four accepted religions, the Chantry, the Qun, the elven pantheon, and dwarven reverence to the Stone. Anything else was considered barbaric or beneath the notice of academic study.
The only time Maxwell even heard of a prevalent cult was when the Temple of Sacred Ashes was discovered. A dragon worshipping commune was settled in the temple, trying to reach the treasured funeral urn, containing the ashes of Andraste herself. Or so the story goes.
"Oh no, I'm afraid it's worse than that," Cello shook his head. "In the very few cases where there were reports of prolonged combat, multiple assailants have been described to have been using their own blood to fight." Maxwell stiffed at that description. "And we have identified that it was not just a single fighter using this ability. Men and women have both been reported to use it, and the Children of Nightmare have used their blood to kill."
"Crap," Maxwell mumbled. Maleficarum.
"This, added with the mysterious powder at their disposal, we can only conclude they are using magic of some sorts. As far as I know, no one Devil Fruit can be shared amongst multiple people at the same time, and now with young Solona mixed up in these events. I'm afraid I must resort to desperate measures. And my current solution… is to employ you."
Maxwell blinked and pointed to himself, "Me?"
"You are a sorcerer are you of some renown are you not?" King Cello asked the mage. "With multiple demons at your command? One of them was reported to have sunken seven marine battleships with your conflict at Enies Lobby."
Right, the king only knew Maxwell by reputation. Even if the charges on his wanted poster were exaggerated… Okay, maybe not the gunships, but everything else was—King Cello only knew of him as a heretical pirate, subordinate to an even more infamous captain.
"You see, I want this cult to be taken care of quickly and quietly; you understand? If I begin a series of raids on my islands, I risk the cult going underground. Never to be seen until they reemerge once again and begin more trouble. I figured, the best way to fight a group of sorcerers, is to have one yourself."
"I…" Maxwell was stunned. He was being asked for help, by a king no less, to hunt down Maleficarum! It was a flattering prospect. However…
"…Under normal circumstances, I would more than love to help you with this cult. My home country has a particular stigma against blood magic. However…"
"You wish to reunite with your captain and crew," The king stated.
"…Yes." Maxwell wouldn't deny it, not now. He much rather be with the rest of the crew, having adventures. They had made it so far now…
"…Very well. Then I will present you with this ultimatum." Cello sat up straight in his chair, addressing the mage formally.
"Find the Children of Nightmare, before the end of the Treasure Wars. Should you succeed, I will arrange a ship for you to travel to the point of your destination. You will have all my resources at your disposal. Food, money, information. Find my niece while your at it too! Fail, or refuse, then I will turn you in to the marines myself."
A chill went up Maxwell's spine. "What!? But—"
"I only have so much patience, Mr. Maxwell." Cello's face was as expressionless as a statue. "I need you as much as you need me right now, so make a choice. Help us, or I'll take you to the dungeon."
Maxwell's lips turned into a thin line, hidden under the guise of his moustache, "…Very well. I accept."
"Splendid," King Cello then rose from his seat. "A maid will be by later, to return your possessions. However, a new set of clothes will be laid out for you. I'm afraid your old attire was deemed unusable by both my armorer and tailor."
Maxwell remembered. The gambeson had been ripped full with holes from their encounter with Sentomaru and the Pacifistas. He knew for a fact he needed a new gauntlet—Maxwell subconsciously looked at his amputated arm—and that his chainmail had been torn... Weren't the pants and boots still good tough?
Cello then opened a window. It turned like a seesaw, allowing a gap to open, and a bird flew in landing on the windowsill. It was a massive frigate bird, with white feathers, black trimming, and black crest upon its chest. A red and gold collar hung around its neck, with a little pendant that Maxwell assumed was the kingdom's coat of arms. And the bird's eyes held an scary amount of intelligence.
"This is Karasu," Cello gestured to the bird. "He will be your handler during your time here. Any reports you have will be written and handed to him. Karasu will also be reporting your movements to me, so if you attempt to flee the country I WILL know about it."
Great. He had a Templar escort again. And this one wasn't even human!
"I'll leave you two to get acquainted." King Cello then began to walk out of the room, but stopped just as he opened the door.
"Until later, Mr. Maxwell." The king closed the door behind him.
…It as times like these, Maxwell wished people would refer to him by his last name. The most common spelling here had surnames written first.
Maxwell looked at the bird, Karasu, in the window. "I don't suppose you can talk, can you?"
*SQAWK.*
"Yeah, I thought not…" The mage sighed. He had his work cut out for him.
O O O
"OPEN THE GATE!" a guardsman called out to the barbican. "THE KING'S GUEST IS LEAVING!"
Chains an mechanical gears began to churn inside the bastion. The portcullis rose and the drawbridge began to lower. It connected to another drawbridge. Both sides descended until they were both connected, and the road to the rest of Maruchi Island was open.
Maxwell waited for the gates to open. He was now in a long green over-jacket, with a white collared shirt, black pants, and a pair of brown dress shoes. Maxwell wasn't sure what the king's tailor was thinking when he got this, but it was NOT meant for combat!
There were no layers! No plating! He felt naked! There hasn't been a day gone by when Maxwell wasn't wearing some sort of armor on his person. Even his old robes had more protection then this monkey suit!
Then, he had to carry all his foci in a bag! There was no holster for his weapons. All the rings and clasps he had for his foci were gone! Thrown out, he was told. Thank the Maker they hadn't found the vivre card or he would have been pissed!
But, speaking of being pissed…
THEY SHAVED HIS BEARD!
IT WAS MORE THAN JUST THE F* MAID! THOSE C* S* M* F* BASTARDS RUSHED INTO HIS ROOM, STRAPPED HIM IN A CHAIR, THEN STARTED TO GROOM HIM! YOU COULD SEE HIS F* CHIN! HE WORKED 3 YEARS TO CULTIVATE THAT BEARD AND MOUSTACHE! AND HE KEPT THEM TRIMMED AND GROOMED THE ENTIRE TIME!
WHY!?
(Maxwell did in fact have high cheek bones and an angled jawline, with a pointed chin. With his prolific nose and long chin, it made him look more and more like a titular warlock. His cheeks and jaw were paler then the rest of his skin, with an obvious tan line around his face for having his beard moustache for so long.)
AT LEAST THEY LEFT HIS F* HAIR ALONE! IF HE KNEW THAT BOWL WAS THERE FOR A F* BARBER SESSION, HE WOULD HAVE CHUCKED IT OUT THE WINDOW!
…It rankled his nerves, being so exposed. BUT, he had to put up with it. The king required subtlety for this mission and Maxwell had approximately 8 days to find the Children of Nightmare.
"…They could have left my f* beard alone though," Maxwell stomped through the gate. At least the clothes fit. He's been given a temporary prosthetic so people wouldn't stare at his sleeve. Better for going unnoticed into a crowd, he was told. "What a load of pigshit…!"
"Halt!" Maxwel stopped and tensed as he heard a voice behind him. It was that marine again, Commander Dreak. Maxwell turned around and watched as the marine strut up towards him.
"Can I help you, ser?" Maxwell asked behind gritted teeth.
"Hmph," Dreak scowled. "I just wanted to see the results for myself. How the mighty have fallen…"
Maxwell's eye twitched. He did not have time to trade insults with some dressed up Avvar! "I take it you've been informed of my task…?"
"Yes, yes… You are to route out the Children of Nightmare. A simple task. One much more suited to those of higher authority."
Maxwell thinned his lips, "Mhm… And tell me, how long has this 'simple task' been a thorn in your side, commander?" The marine froze when he heard that question. "If it is so simple, then it will appear miraculous for a pirate like me. In fact where is your superior, Dreak? I thought Vice Admirals were in charge of navy bases out in Paradise."
"You are not just some mere pirate, Magister!" Dreak stomped up to Maxwell and pointed a finger in the mage's face. "I've dealt with scum like you for years! You have no interest in this island, and do not pretend you do otherwise! Your kind only take, and take—! His majesty will be made a fool for trusting you! And your captain—!"
"Then it is a good thing I don't have the king's full trust," Maxwell responded coolly, not like this man's attitude. "Otherwise he would not have a watcher on me…" The mage nodded his head towards one of the battlements. There on a parapets sat Karasu, watching them intently.
"…Hmph. Just as it should be." Bellos then turned back to look at the mage, "Watch yourself, Magister. When you see something that catches your eye—something you should never have; Mark my words, I WILL be the one to arrest you!"
"Then it's a good thing your island offers me nothing beyond a boat I can sail away on. Goodnight, commander." Maxwell then turned around and walked off towards the mainland.
"I'm watching you, Trevelyan!" Dreak shouted behind him. "You and every lowlife that dares pollute these waters! Watch you back!"