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Noland couldn’t sleep.
He’s been tossing and turning for well over an hour now but the sleep just wouldn’t come. As tired as the body was, the mind was restless.
The night was quiet, only accompanied by the soft chirping of crickets, perfect for peaceful slumber. But Noland was wide awake, staring at the ceiling with his hands locked together over his chest.
Something was keeping him awake, urging him to go. As if there was something else he had to do, somewhere else to be. Someone else to meet.
He couldn’t place it at first. Wondered if it was that extra cup of coffee he had before dinner. Or if the long journey had weaned him off the softness of his home mattress and sheets.
But, no, this wasn’t right.
Noland closed his eyes to focus. Drawing in a deep breath, he let the feeling settle over him. Allowed himself to soak in it, to taste it on the tip of his tongue.
It was strangely familiar. Almost painfully so.
A phantom itch he couldn’t scratch. Something he hadn’t expected to happen anytime soon. And not in Lvneel of all places.
Place…
And then it dawned on him.
Here, lying in his own bed, Noland felt…homesick.
But he was home, wasn’t he?
He wasn’t.
This was his homeland.
His home had long become another place.
This was the house he had built himself.
His home was now in that dense forest, in the sound of The Bell, in those deceptively stern eyes.
Noland couldn’t stay in bed much longer.
He carefully slipped from under the covers and fetched a pair of shoes. Mindful of the creaky floorboard right at the doorstep, the botanist sneaked out of the house and headed to the nearest meadow.
He liked to walk there during sleepless nights like this one. A perfect place to clear one’s head and sort out confusing thoughts and feelings.
The admiral ran his hand through the wild flowers growing along the path. Most of them were closed and sleeping, unlike him. The tall grass tickled his palm as he walked, a smile easing onto his face. It was a small thing, but it brought the comfort and the calm he needed.
Noland paused and looked around.
It was fascinating in a way. How the things he had known his entire life seemed foreign now. The dark skies were full of stars, but the constellations weren’t the ones engraved in his mind. The fresh night air was cooler, not as humid, not the one his lungs craved. Noland missed the salty sent of the ocean breeze, the peculiar cry of the South bird. The company of a redheaded warrior.
Sun came out at early hours to roam
Sun, my dear, tell me where is your home
Brown eyes are set on the south end
Do not sorrow, my friend
He glanced at the Moon. Even it was different somehow. The white semicircle greeted him with its soft glow and Noland felt the memory of a certain night resurface.
The Moon was full. Big and yellow, not unlike the gold of Shandora. It seemed warm and close enough to grasp if one so desired. Almost alive.
Calgara and him had sneaked out of the village and the camp respectively for a late night walk in the ancient city.
They settled on one of the golden roofs, the metal already cooled off after the day under the sun. They lay on their backs side by side, hands crossed behind their heads. Stargazing.
The sky was dark and cloudless, the air fresh and humid. The silence around them — comfortable.
“The Moon’s beautiful tonight,” Calgara whispered dreamily, talking to the skies.
Noland smiled. His eyes hadn’t left the other’s profile for even a second.
“Incredibly so.”
Skies get brighter with the upcoming noon
Dazzling Sun has fallen hard for the Moon
But the daytime won’t allow it to stay
So the Moon fades away
“I sleep here sometimes,” Calgara admitted, “When I need to get away and think.”
“Is this what we’re doing? Getting away?”
“No. I just wanted you to see it.” Noland’s smile grew at those words. “This is the best place to watch the Moon when it’s full.”
That was true. Even though the city of Shandora was built in a pit and sat below the forest level, the lack of trees really opened up the view of the sky.
The only other place like this would be the altar, the same one where his entire crew could’ve been killed to appease the so-called gods. The one where Mousse and who knows how many others could’ve been and had been sacrificed to those giant snakes. The one where he and Calgara had first met.
Ah, it seemed so long ago. Almost as if in another life.
There were no words to express how incredibly lucky Noland felt for having a chance to get to know all those people. To get to know Calgara.
Soon enough his crew would finish exploring the forest and cleanse it from the tree fever once and for all. The tribe wouldn’t have to worry about the plague and Noland could continue his journey, knowing they were safe.
At least that’s what he had thought at the time.
“Thank you for sharing this with me.”
The next night, under the full Moon, Calgara threatened to kill him.
***
It wasn’t the first time Noland had returned from a perilous journey to the Grand Line. Although this particular voyage was by far the longest of them. The town’s folks would often ask him to share about what he had seen in the far away lands. Children and adults alike would gather around to listen about his adventures.
Noland would tell them stories of the island, shaped like a skull, and the fierce warriors protecting it. Of the giant snakes and colorful birds, that only looked south. Of the people with tiny wings on their backs and intricate tattoos etched into their skin.
Of the most captivating eyes he’d ever seen, he didn’t tell anyone.
The day was one of the slow ones, nice and warm, without a cloud in the sky. Noland had spent a good portion of it in the woods, studying, what he assumed, was a yet undiscovered species of fern. The forest was full of plants never seen or documented before and the explorer was absolutely thrilled to come across such a treasure.
With his best magnifying glass he scrutinized the spore clusters on the underside of the leaves which were a miracle of their own. Exceptionally long and slightly curly, with a purple tint that grew more vibrant towards the tips.
Fascinating, truly fascinating.
Calgara, who didn’t quite share his enthusiasm, eyed the plant skeptically. He was squatting in front of Noland, completely disinterested in what the botanist was doing but still choosing to keep him company. Which was very sweet of him. The crew joked about the two of them being joined at the hip despite having nothing in common and neither could argue.
Finding a suitable angle, Noland made a quick sketch in his journal, marking the most distinctive parts. He would add the necessary details later when he had more time and a desk. For now, a schematic drawing with a few notes was enough.
He could feel the other’s gaze on him but didn’t look up from the page. He’d spent enough time with Calgara to know that sooner or later he would speak up about whatever was on his mind. So he just waited and continued to work.
“How do your eyes change color?” the warrior finally asked.
Noland could only chuckle at that.
“What do you mean?”
“First they were brown, now green, what kind of magic is that” Calgara accused, gesturing theatrically, “Can all of your people do that?”
“Oh, ahah, they do not change, Cal. They are both brown and green. We call those hazel.”
The redhead didn’t seem convinced, so Noland explained further.
“With my eyes, there’s brown around the pupil and a few little specks here and there, and the rest of the iris is green. Depending on the lighting they might seem darker, leaning towards brown, or lighter, appearing almost fully green. Does that make sense?”
The other only grunted in response, so Noland expected more questions.
What he didn’t expect was for Calgara to suddenly loom over him and hold the explorer’s face between his palms to take a closer look.
Talk about personal space…
Not that Noland minded the attention, it actually flattered him quite a bit. But it was pretty damn hard to restrain yourself when the object of your attraction was a mere breath away.
As the Shandian studied him intently, Noland was left to hope that his crazy fast heartbeat wasn’t loud enough to betray him.
Hyper aware of the other’s hands on his face and the ridiculously small distance between them, Noland tried to focus on the only thing in his line of vision — Calgara’s own eyes.
The warrior’s irises were an unusual reddish gray color like ones of an albino and his pupils were catlike elongated. In a tribe where most people had black hair and dark eyes Calgara stood out like one massive splash of color. Noland wondered if it was a lucky mutation or if the redhead had inherited a recessive gene of some sort.
You really are one of a kind, aren’t you?
“Your eyes look like a forest,” Calgara stated, successfully pulling Noland out of his thoughts, “Brown, like soil and tree bark, and green, like grass and leaves. It must’ve been your fate to be a botanist.”
“T-thank you?”
Noland didn’t think much of the concept of fate, but whatever had brought him to this moment, he was grateful to it.
He wished he could come up with a compliment for the other’s appearance that wouldn’t be obviously flirtatious but his mind was completely blank.
After a few more moments of staring, Calgara seemed to catch himself. He looked almost startled as he let go of the scientist’s face a bit too quickly and squatted back down.
Noland missed the contact immediately.
***
The hem of his coat flapped softly in the wind as he stood alone on the pier. Moonlight reflected off the ocean’s gleamy surface, distorted by small waves. Swaying slowly, Noland’s exploration ship stood out against the tiny fishing boats filling the quiet harbor.
He watched the darkening horizon with a pinch of sadness. The same way he had watched it from the other side, from a faraway shore that was no longer foreign to him.
Life was full of regrets, of sorrows, of loss. It couldn’t not be lived any other way. And the key was to drown all that pain in found happiness.
Noland could not stay on Jaya, and Calgara could not leave it. Whether they wanted it or not, the time came to part. But they made a promise to meet again one day, and it was all that mattered.
Sun and Moon cannot together remain
Loving one another causes them pain
I will leave at early hours to roam
And forget my own home
They had almost inspected the entire forest. Only in a couple of days, all infected trees would be taken care of and Noland’s crew could set sails and head back to Lvneel.
He should be looking forward to it.
He dreaded the day he would have to leave this place, leave Calgara, forever.
He tried not to think of it too much.
That day, Noland felt especially sentimental.
He dug out his oldest herbarium, the one he’d been working on since he was a child. That old shabby looking book held his first collection and had a sample of every plant species that grew in Lvneel. It was his treasure.
Mindful of the battered paper, Noland flipped through the pages until he found it. Barely breathing, he removed the tape and picked up the delicate blue flowers he was looking for. Tiny and unassuming, they carried more meaning than words could express. More than Noland had the courage to say out loud.
Finding Calgara wasn’t a hard task. The Light of Shandora had sung its mighty song mere minutes ago, meaning that the warrior was still in the Golden City. Noland greeted him and the little blue snake that seemed to always follow them around, and they walked through the forest together.
“You know,” Noland said as soon as they settled on their favorite cliff side, “flowers have their own language.”
Calgara stared at him with huge eyes.
“You can hear plants talk?”
There was so much awe in his voice that the scientist almost didn’t want to break it to him.
“Unfortunately no, although that’s every botanist’s dream.” Noland held up the small flower he had brought. “But while the plants don’t really talk, each of them holds their own meaning that people throughout history have assigned to them. A thoughtfully arranged bouquet sometimes tells more than a wordy letter.”
Although a bit less excited, Calgara nodded in understanding.
“What does this one say?”
“It says: Forget me not. I hope you remember me the way I will forever have you in my thoughts,” Noland explained, slowly swirling the dainty flower between his fingers, “It speaks of connection, of a bond that cannot be broken. It means—“
I will forever love you.
“—devotion.”
It was a promise.
“I want you to have it.”
Calgara took it from his hand gingerly and promised to keep it safe.
I will bring you every flower I know
I will help you carry all of that woe
We won’t notice how the evening crawls near
And the Moon will appear
That night they had one too many drinks.
There was a lot of laughing, a lot of leaning into one another.
Noland didn’t know when he had fallen asleep but he woke up late at night to something tickling his nose.
Not yet fully awake, he tried to scratch it, only to realize that he couldn’t move his arm. In fact, something was pinning his entire right side to the ground. Something warm and pleasantly heavy.
The botanist finally opened his eyes to find Calgara sleeping soundly on top of him. Face flush against his chest, long fluffy hair getting everywhere. With an arm dropped over Noland’s middle and one leg hooked around his, the warrior had successfully trapped him in that full body embrace, much to the other’s delight.
Noland didn’t have it in himself to move him.
It felt too nice. And a moment like this would most likely never happen again. Noland could let himself have this little treat, just this once. He would revel in this moment of weakness and then live off the memory of it for the rest of his days.
And with that thought he drifted off again.
***
Noland woke up alone.
The warmth of the sweet memory faded, giving way to the numbing chill of the night, as he slowly remembered where he was.
This wasn’t their cliff side or the camp. This wasn’t Jaya at all.
He was back in Lvneel, but it wasn’t his house either.
Noland woke up in a prison cell. Curled up on his side on the narrow, roughly padded bunk.
Calgara wasn’t there. Not in this room, not on the remaining part of the island. He might not even be alive.
The moonlight spilled through the pathetically small window, the bars cutting it into long, even stripes. Noland wondered if Calgara could see the Moon from wherever he was.
It was only one of the many questions he would never get the answer for.
What happened to the place he could almost call his home?
It was destroyed. Ripped apart. Gone.
What happened to the tribe that had welcomed him like one of their own?
Gone. All gone.
What happened to the man he was so deeply, hopelessly in love with?
GONE GONE GONE
Noland choked on his breath. He trembled and sobbed, hot tears running down his face faster than they ever had before. He couldn’t fight them.
He wanted to scream. Wanted to yell at the top of his lungs, demanding to know what on Earth had happened to Jaya, to its people, to Calgara. Wanted to shout so loudly, that the man himself would hear him, that he would know Noland didn’t break his promise.
That Calgara would answer him.
But all that came through his gritted teeth were the ugly little cries and pained hiccups.
And his only answer was his own sorrow echoing off the cold stone walls.
Sun is crying and refusing to rise
Golden tears running down from its eyes
Burning through the flushing cheeks and the nose
In unending flows
Calgara…where are you?