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There was a kid sitting on a log outside of his house.
Marco rubbed at his eyes tiredly, as he stared at the back of the kid. It wasn’t a back he recognized. The clothes were tattered and patched. Dirty blond hair was tied back by a black cloth. A shitty excuse of a spear laid across a small lap.
Why? Sphinx had been peaceful for quite a few decades. He knew just about everyone on this island. Old, young, new and those whose family lines went back centuries. Blond hair wasn’t normal on Sphinx. He knew that most of all after the kids swarmed him and spent more then one day making grabs at it.
Speaking of nosy kids-
There was a group of four approaching the kid right now, eyes alight at the sight of long, wavy blond hair. It was a completely different look then anyone else on the island. It was rough, from years of neglect it looked like.
A tiny, chubby hand reached out to grab a fistful of hair at the exact same time the kid himself clapped a hand over the long strands so they couldn’t pull it out. A voice that tickled his memory somehow scolded the child. Where had he heard that voice?
Marco mulled over it, as he pulled away from the window. The kid wasn’t a threat to the citizens, so he’d get dressed.
It wasn’t long before he had pushed open the door and started strolling down the road. The kids had fully swarmed the new person, asking all kinds of eager questions without waiting for a reply. Marco took pity, and stepped in. “Kids-”
“Run! Before you get weird shots!”
The kids scattered, giggling. Oi, he did not give them random shots, and besides which, “You guys aren’t due for your vaccinations until next year. I’ll see you then.”
They really started running now.
“Geeze, even the sphinxes behave better then them when it comes to their shots.” Marcro grumbled, as he peeked down at the kid.
A long, rounded face tilted up at him. The kid was dirty, from head to bare feet. There were a few obviously broken toes, scratches and cuts littered all of his body from various fights. Marco knew fighting wounds versus scuffle wounds. The kid had fought and won. Probably multiple times.
But all there was now was a scowling face as the kid looked back over the island. Thinking something over. “So where’d you wash up from then-yoi?”
“Dunno. Woke up here. Last time I checked I was in a much more desperate place.” The kid grumbled. Marco crouched down next to the log the kid had claimed for himself. Not too close. “’S a nice place though.” His tone shifted, slightly wistful.
“Hmm. It is, isn’t it.”
“I’m not here to cause trouble, so you don’t gotta be so suspicious of me you know!”
It was amazing the kid had picked up on his true thoughts so easily. Then again, it wasn’t hard to believe it’d be anything else. The kid rose on shaky feet.
There was an odd tip to his body that told Marco that the kid probably was more seriously injured on the side. As suspicious as the kid was, Marco couldn’t just ignore him. “C’mon.”
“Hmm?”
Eyes squinted at him suspiciously. Marco pointed to his house. “I’m the doctor.”
“I don’t have any money, and no wounds deep enough to require something like that.” The kid immediately rejected him without batting an eye. Yeah, he really wasn’t a child of Sphinx. They were, despite their complaints, far more trusting… and perhaps a little naive about money.
“Well, that’s fine. I get bankrolled.”
The kid waved his hand, and kept wandering down the grass carpeted hills. Marco hesitated, before lengthening his stride. He couldn’t exactly let the kid wander around injured- especially when he wasn’t a hundred percent certain as to both their strength and their temperament. Well, the kid wasn’t one to pick a fight. Otherwise he would’ve when the kids grabbed at his hair.
The kid paused, scowling at him. “I’m not gonna attack unless someone attacks me first.”
“Good. Then come on in and I’ll treat you.”
The scowl deepened. “I already said I’m not paying!”
God, why could he hear Pops in that whining complaint? “I already said I’m being bankrolled, so a brat like you doesn’t have to worry about it.”
“If you’re getting bankrolled, then that means taxes from the citizens. I don’t pay taxes.”
Why was this kid being so contrary? For a kid who had survived, taking advantage of ‘soft-hearted stupid fucking morons’ was the way to survive. At least, that was what he told Pops. But this kid crossed his arms, as he stared up at him. Those eyes were a startling blue.
Blond hair, blue eyes, and a scowling face.
It was vaguely familiar in a lot of ways, that annoyed him. But- “Don’t you know the best way for a kid to survive is to take advantage of soft-hearted idiots?”
“I don’t recall being in such a bad position that I would have to. Besides which, if you already know that, then shouldn’t you fix it about yourself?”
“Well, my pops raised me to be a soft-hearted fool.”
He didn’t mind calling himself names if it got his goals completed. And Marco’s main goal of the day: Get the kid in the house and treated. Maybe even fed. It depended on how the kid acted. Said kid had crossed his arms, spear tucked in the crook of his arms. Then, he grumbled, loudly, “Rather then healing, I’d rather find food.”
Find- not take or fight for it? Well- “There is some. Inside. After cleaning is complete.”
“I’d rather take my chances fishing in the ocean.”
“I hate to tell you kid, but the sea is often empty.” Pops had lamented about it semi-often.
The kid looked away, as his stomach rumbled loudly. If Thatch were still around, he’d of whipped up a filling soup. The special ‘Dad’s trying to adopt a new kid’ soup. It had fed many brats aiming for Pops head in its time.
What were the ingredients?
It was probably in the book the cooks had given him when the Whitebeard pirates had disbanded. He hadn’t had the heart to open and look at it yet. Or courage.
But, the brat bristled as they started stomping down the hill. Refusing to even look at him.
That was new- were they actually embarrassed about their stomach grumbling? Sometimes folks would be. Not many were. Most of the pirates were well used to grumbling stomachs and never hesitating despite it. Though there was plenty of them who kept it silent. Not everyone was like Ace who never hesitated to gorge himself at any opportunity.
Marco reached out to grab the kid by the waist, and pick him up.
It was a test really- he showed no malice- and the kid didn’t really either. Despite snarling and kicking, they were very light to what damage the kid could do. Not that the Brat actually could damage him.
But they weren’t trying despite the flailing feet. Marco kicked open his own door to the three-room building. The main room that was hospital, living room, and kitchen all in one, then the tiny bedroom and bathroom tucked in the back. Now then, drop the kid onto a seat like a sack of potatoes he’d been forced to peel more then once for bad behavior.
The kitchen… was actually quite barren. He hadn’t been grocery shopping yet, and hadn’t been feeling very hungry either. He hadn't felt hungry since Pops and Ace died. “Hey, don’t you have even less food in your cupboards then I do?”
Hold the damn ship, it wasn’t that bad- was it? There was food. Eggs, a quarter of a cabbage, a carrot, uncooked rice, a few scraps of garlic and onion, a few other assorted vegetables. It was enough for a simple fried rice. No meat, but that would be fine.
Marco set a pot on the small oven, and rekindled the flames. “Alright, while the rice gets started, let’s get you cleaned up and treated yoi.”
“Not needed.”
“You won’t get fed.”
“There’s not even enough food for two, is there? A quarter of a cabbage and a carrot isn’t enough even for an adult. If I should call you one.”
This damn brat. “Oi, brat. I’ll have you know it’ll be more then enough to feed two.”
The kid snorted loudly. “Sure, sure. I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Then you’ll have to find out. After a bath yoi.”
“I’m not taking a damn bath!”
“You reek, and at least one of those cuts is getting infected.” Marco refuted, even as he reached out. The kid pushed back immediately, with a surprising amount of strength. It was enough to promise a very bright future ahead of him as long as he didn’t piss off the wrong person and die. It wasn’t going to happen… at least not here~ Marco was the strongest on the island.
With a smile of victory, he picked the kid up like a hissing cat. It required a little bit of Haki, but not much. Just a promise of the kid one day being a wildly strong monster. His brothers would love the kid. Marco kicked open the door to his bathroom, and used his foot to push open the valve to start a steady stream of semi-warm water. Not as hot as he’d like, but it’d be enough.
Without hesitation, Marco dumped the still yelling cat into the water.
The yelling stopped as abruptly as if cut off with a knife. Instead, there was a utterly dejected kid that was glaring at him. Rapidly looking like a cat caught out in the rain as long hair flattened slowly beneath the steady stream.
He didn’t have any special shampoo for those dirty, wild curls.
Pops did, but it was Whitey’s gift to him every year. Otherwise he’d get the cheap stuff that drove her insane. It was sunk though. With the ship. Burned.
Fuck. He should concentrate on the kid, and not on the dead.
Marco pulled back. Releasing the kid as they sat miserably under the water. The kid reached up to pull off the sopping wet bandanna. He silently set it to the side, eyes narrowing. “So, you like kids?”
There was something about that question, but Marco couldn’t immediately place it. He pulled out soap that he had commissioned from a soapmaker. It was sharp, overwhelming smell. “Well, not particularly, that was Pops who’d adopt anyone who aimed for his head. I just know how to mostly deal with them.”
The kids head cocked, and a bit of the tension leaked out. “You don’t know anything.”
What? What didn’t he know? Marco didn’t hesitate to finish stripping the kid of his clothes. It was the best way to get a full understanding of the wounds. The kids legs were surprisingly clear of wounds despite a few scrapes here and there. All the wounds had been washed with seawater. Scabs had formed, and would leave behind small scars. The pattern was familiar, like he’d seen them before. It was faint, but where?
He’d probably seen all the combinations one could see. Natural and unnatural. Deliberate, and just carelessness. The scrapes were deliberate. Someone who towered over the kid had swung a weapon at them. The fact that the child was only this injured meant he had probably won that particular battle.
There were long knife wounds, thin and long. They were what was truly causing the kid the most amount of pain. One of them was rapidly getting infected, despite clear attempts to scrub and clean it out with enough salt to pickle a fish. It was a truly rudimentary cleaning that said the kid had no other way.
“A few days of antibiotics will clear this up.”
“Don’t say it like it’s that easy!”
“Well, I have them. Most of them are for animals five times your size though.” Marco stood up, “I’ll have to cut one of the pills into the correct dosage size. Once I weigh you.”
Soon a fully scrubbed child in clothing far too big for him sat on his chair. The rice was overcooked. Well, it was fine, it’d probably crisp up a little when he fried it. Maybe. Perhaps. Thatch’s book remained untouched on the small shelf above the sink.
The fried rice didn’t look particularly appetizing. It was lumpy, with unevenly chopped vegetables scattered through it. More rice then vegetables. And yet- the kid looked both surprised and pleased to get a plate full. Marco hadn’t been hungry recently, so he had no problem giving the kid a bigger portion.
The kid polished off his part of the meal, and settled back. Marco ate slowly. The silence was the most disturbing part.
He couldn’t remember a time he’d been able to eat alone and in silence. Even if the cooks brought him meals to make him eat, they’d often stay and chat. Sharing the meal. A truly silent meal was rare. Normally he’d distract himself with various papers, but he shouldn’t today.
He also didn’t want to just stare at this child. Said kid was scanning the room- looking for something to steal? Well, while antibiotics might be rare, they couldn’t be resold for much. Most of the stuff was only expensive to someone who was a doctor. Other then that, most of his worldly possessions had burned with Moby Dick. There had been a few things he had the nurses keep for him when he sailed off. Pops had said there was a good chance Moby would burn. But they were childhood trinkets of no worth to anyone but him. So there was no reason to worry so much.
Oh right, the pills.
The scale sat on the counter always. Marco stood up, and pulled the container of antibiotics out of the cupboard. Let’s see, the dosage… 12kg would get a 25 mg dose of penicillin. This kid was old enough and big enough to be basically dosed as a adult. He only had phenoxymethylpenicillin for more oral infections- the main kind of infection on this island. 500Mg max, but, the kid didn’t need that much. Especially not all at once.
So. Marco cut the pill into 50 mg sizes. It was still a good size chunk. He passed one over to the kid, as he put the others into a small waterproof bag. Since he had no clue if the kid would stick around. Well, he’d do his best to strong-arm it. At least for now. He wasn’t ready to take in a kid.
Marco doubted he ever would be.
A small hand took the proffered bag. “Are you gonna finish your food doc?”
“Oh, no, I’m full.” Marco waved his hand. “Though I suppose I should go grocery shopping.”
He was really out of everything now. And this village was technically ‘hidden’. No longer along the coast, but tucked away deep into the mountains. Pirates couldn’t find their way in. Nor could marines. Food was enough- not overly plentiful, but sustainable even if a years crops failed. It was clear how much Pops had loved his hometown just walking through Sphinx.
It hurt.
Marco hadn’t even known how much it could hurt.
Even though he had been the one to fight for the right to protect Pops hometown. The one closest to Pops and Ace’s grave. Not the same island, but close.
And-
“Doc, if you’re going grocery shopping, wouldn’t now be the best time?” The kid questioned, head leaning against the table. He hadn’t touched Marco’s food.
“Hmmm. Well…” What else would he make? Going out shopping without a plan would be disastrous. “What kind of foods do you like?”
“I dunno. Mostly just have soup of whatever scraps we can find and any fruit I win in a fight.”
We, and I? No, that was no help. He’d have to consult the cookbook, wouldn’t he?
Marco reached up, and pulled the book off the shelf. It felt as heavy as an entire ship. Should he just flip it open randomly and pick a random recipe? The kid would have to deal with whatever Marco made. Or he could just make soup.
Soup was good.
Marco set the cookbook back onto the shelf. “Let’s just have soup yoi.”
“It’s your kitchen.” The kid muttered. “Besides, you don’t have to feed me. Medicine is plenty.”
Changing his tune now that he actually had the medicine in his hands, huh? Marco washed his hands, and picked up a bag. The kid was drowsing at the table. Clean, warm, full. That was an unexpected gut wrench. He had seen that kind of drowsing too many times. Done it too many times himself, when he was wary of Pops. Fed, but not yet really accepting the help. Not believing it could be freely given. His many, many, thousand plus brothers were oftentimes the same. Wary, but unable to withstand the onslaught of care.
“Take a nap yoi. You’ll heal faster.”
Marco left. The long grass swayed in the wind, as the thin, slowly being created path led down the side towards the town. A few wild Sphinxes climbed up and down the mountainside, jumping into streams to try and catch the small fish that darted around. Wild boar snorted in the forests further up as they rooted for truffles. Should he go hunting? He knew how to use every piece of it. And, if all else failed, boiling in soup was as Thatch put it ‘The basis of most cooking’.
No, at least until he understood his newest patient a little bit more…
The village gossipers were gathered in the square. “I hear a new patient from outside has come?”
“How’d they get in?’
“Did you bring them in?”
It was understandable that they were worried- none of them could fight. “Will you be okay Marco if it’s someone scary? He had a weapon.”
Now he was the one being fussed over? Although he didn’t exactly show off his tattoos to the citizens of Sphinx… they weren’t hidden either. They should know he wasn’t a normal man.
“It’s fineeeeeeeee mama, I told you! He scolded me for pulling on his hair and then held me up so I could look at it closer.” One of the kids who had run away.
Marco leaned over, “You know, you should be a little more careful around strangers.”
“Who’s a stranger?”
“My newest patient yoi.”
“But he’s yellow and pretty!”
These kids… “What kind of criteria are you guys using? Be a little smarter about it.”
“Pretty is pretty.”
No point in arguing. They weren’t budging. Marco attacked from a different location. “But even if pretty, they can still hurt you.”
“He was sitting in front of your door, you wouldn’t allow it right?”
“...No.” Marco admitted. The kids would’ve been frightened, but he was certain in his power and speed. The kids would have been just fine. They beamed up at him in response.
After being harassed a little bit longer, Marco was released with food.
He made his way slowly back across the hills. The kid that had arrived had moved back outside again. Onto the log. Staring out across the grass, but making no more to go out any further. He was dozing off actually, head nodding as he leaned against his spear. Marco eyed him for a moment.
He sat like Pops did.
One leg swung up and the other planted firmly on the ground. Leaning to his right. It was always his right leg that was lifted. Sometimes Pops would rest it against his thigh, but usually… not. It was a common position, Marco reassured himself, as he stared down at this kid.
Said kid shifted- and just like pops, the right eye slit open first. He could remember that squint from many nights of attacking Pops in his sleep. Pops had been much younger then. And this kid… stirred, yawning as he shifted. “What’re you staring at?”
“Just thinking you reminded me of someone I knew. Was inside too stuffy?”
“Well- the sun was just so nice.” The kid took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “No smoke, no yells. Just… it’s nice and quiet.”
Pops had always loved that as well. His favorite place to nap was always the ‘throne’. Where all his kids could come up to him for a bit of affection, time, or just simply to poke a gentle fun at their old man. Well. It was all over.
“I see. It is peaceful and beautiful, isn’t it?”
Marco glanced back. The mid-afternoon sun warmed the land. Children, adults, and sphinxes traveled along small paths as they tended to gardens. Tiny waterwheels creaked and groaned in the small streams that ran past.
This was Pops inheritance, his legacy, his life’s work. Well- not even an inheritance. Inheritances could be spent, and this one couldn't be. Ruined, perhaps. But not spent or sold.
The kid leaned forward, letting the wind brush against his cheeks. The too big clothes fluttered in the wind. The red swelling had already gone down. That was good. Marco glanced back over the land. He… Had he sat and looked at Sphinx? Everything had been so busy since he had arrived. He hadn’t had a chance.
“It’s beautiful.” The kid said again, far too wistful and gentle for a kid that had obviously lead a rough life.
Up in the mountains, a sphinx roared.
The kid looked at it, brows furrowing like Pops did when contemplating something a little bit amusing. Then, he smiled. With his whole mouth. Like the rising sun cresting over a wave, it lit up his entire face. “One day, for sure. Me too.”
There was a fire in his eyes. A promise.
“Hey, what’s your name yoi?”
“I’m a nameless child.” The answer came firing back, as if rehearsed. Marco’s eyes narrowed.
“You don’t have a bounty, do you?”
“No, nothing like that.”
Marco continued to hesitate- before shaking his head. A child this young wouldn’t normally have a bounty. No, that wasn’t exactly true. Pops had once remarked it was far too bad that Nico Robin at age 8 had a bounty and keep an eye out for her. They often kept eyes out for kids on bounty posters. And Marco kept up on them as well. He couldn’t remember this kid.
“Then, I’ll call you Fool.” It was pops favorite way of calling kids who refused to give out their names.
Fool leapt up, bristling as he threw a punch at Marco. Marco dodged without thinking. It didn’t even brush him. Fool stamped his foot on the ground. Leaving behind little divots from the sheer force. Yep, kid would be insanely strong growing up.
But not yet.
There was no pirate that didn’t have their pride shattered on the seas. No pirate that hadn’t faced a moment where they lost. Although Pops never talked about it, he indicated he too had faced a major loss at one point. Such defeats were often not talked about in pirate crews. Whether it was rebuilding, gathering, or just- giving up. Squard had his entire crew wiped out by Roger, and it took him years before he was ready to gather a new crew. Whitey Bay always had a bitter, angry, sad look on her face as she covered Marco’s face with her hat and mumbled, “Pops was kind.”
Undoubtedly, this child too would face a bitter time like that.
That was why, Marco wouldn’t go fully easy on the child.
He’d dodge any and all blows, practically dancing. Marco didn’t attack. Just dodged it, and the child’s attempts at trying to corner him. It was surprisingly sophisticated for a… ten? Twelve? Year old kid. The kid mostly understood terrain, and was trying to drive him back towards the wall where he wouldn’t have as much room to move.
But, Marco was light on his feet. It was extremely easy to jump over the kid’s head with his bag of groceries, then, let the kid go stumbling through the door back inside.
Marco tapped the door shut, as Fool whined and grumbled on the ground. Not completely exhausted, but out of breath and recognizing of the gap. Tiny, bare feet kicked the wood of the floor. “Close! I was at least close, wasn’t I?!”
“You weren’t.” Marco effortlessly cut the child down to size, as he set the groceries on the counter top. “I didn’t even feel the need to push you back once yoi.”
“Fuck!”
Marco laughed. A quiet, soft laugh, that ached at that petulant whining. It reminded him of Pops. Why? Why did it? Was it just that particular timber? The way the kid scowled without a hint of reservation? Most kids learned how to hide their emotions. Quickly, to prevent others from taking advantage of it. But this kid, despite having lived roughly didn’t. He scowled with his whole face, petulant and whining. Loudly complaining with the exact same tone Pops got when his own children insulted him to his face. All pops had to do was say- “I’m right here you know!”
Marco’s laughter scraped, and stopped. Why that? Why those words?
It didn’t make sense. Not here, not now. No, more then the words, it was the tone. The grumbling, whining tone of someone who didn’t truly believe it. It was a familiar tone, one he was used to in such a deeper voice.
Had Pops sired a child?
He always said Weevil wasn’t his, but this kid… Was a little too close to comfort. Far closer in action to Pops then Weevil ever was. But, why wouldn’t Pops mention it? Fifteen years ago, Pops was still more then strong enough to allow kids on his boat. Even three years ago, as his health dwindled and declined rapidly, Pops had brought one of the most wild of child’s on the boat with Ace. So-
“Don’t look at me like that!”
“What kind of look-”
“Like I’m hurting you! I haven’t even touched you!”
Had it shown on his face that much? Or was the kid just that perceptive?
Either way- “No. You just reminded me of a man that’s been dead for two years yoi.”
“Mmm.” The kid rolled over, staring up at the ceiling. “Do you still miss them?”
Every day.
The thought took Marco off guard. Hadn’t he mourned? He’d buried pops one year and five months ago. Come to Sphinx just two months ago. They were now a year and seven months past Pops death. Even before that, Pops health had been rapidly declining. Death had been lingering for a long, long time. But even so.
“Must’ve been dear to you.” The kid muttered. Gentling.
Fucking hell. Was he being consoled by a ten year old child? Marco reached out-
And patted the kids head. Because he knew now how Pops could tell with just a look whether or not someone had lost someone dear to them. When they were a lost child at heart, desperately crying out.
The scent of loneliness was one that couldn’t be masked. And the kid before him radiated it. Hesitantly accepting his touch, but drinking it as greedily as water in the middle of a desert. Marco pulled away. “Now then, it’s almost dinner. Isn’t it?”
The kid glanced out at the setting sun. It got dark early in the valley. The first few flickering lights were turning on in homes and lighting up the pathways. Sphinxes were climbing down the mountainside, returning home. “I guess?”
“Soup needs time to cook anyways.” Marco said airily, “It’s best the second day, but it doesn’t usually last until then.”
At least, not on the ship. If it did, it was because the cooks had hidden it. Fool perched on top of the stool, staring at the tubers that were spilled out across the counter space. Potatoes, sphinx milk, carrots, mushrooms, onions, celery- “Here, do you know how to scrub a potato?”
“Yes? Wouldn’t we peel them?”
“No, not this time. The skin of the potato is where all the nutrients lay, so even though it’ll affect the taste we’ll be eating them.”
“We will huh? You’re not gonna be kicking me out?”
“Where would you even go?” Marco questioned blankly. Because, “No matter how you look at it, you don’t strike me as a kid with anything yoi.”
“You can’t keep me either.” Fool pointed out immediately. “You have one bed, and eat like you think it’s the worst possible chore ever given to you.”
Hold on, hold on. Was he seriously being lectured by his own patient? “I can take care of myself just fine, and you’re the one who is a patient.”
“Not even gonna try on the rest, huh Doc?”
“I can eat just fine, so I don’t see any reason why to pretend I’m hurt by that.”
The kid sneered at him. Marco used his foot to push him further down and away. “You’ll get a blanket on the floor yoi.” A bed was always too soft the first few nights. There were many people who had gone overboard after stumbling, tripping, and not quite being able to catch themselves after their newest sibling picked a random seemingly unused corridor to sleep in. Pops had started going to bed just to free up his seat so the kids were more likely to pick closer to it. At least then there was a far less likely chance of someone ending up in the ocean.
“Better then usual.” The kid muttered.
A small, chubby hand reached up to plop the scrubbed potato on the countertop. Marco considered it. It was well scrubbed. Rather then think of the fact that he was already trying to think of where to shove a second bed into the house, he would focus on tonight’s meal.
The soup bubbled on the stove, as Marco sorted through the many papers. The kid eyed it quietly, but- “Do you know how to read?”
“Of course.” The kid immediately said- Marco paused. Was that someone covering up their weakness? Or did he really mean it? Well- If the kid wasn’t willing to be truthful with him, then Marco wasn’t going to pry. It could be left for later.
“Good.”
The kid stirred when a Sphinx crouched down to stare through the window at him. It was an older one. It had a few scars from where it had been attacked. Sphinxes were normally a fairly tame species. Marco sincerely doubted it had even attempted to fight back. It pawed at the window.
Marco opened the window without hesitating. The giant paw reached through, sending everything on the counter top scattering. It whined, loudly. The paw withdrew, as the Sphinx paced back and forth. What was the matter? Was it injured?
Marco opened the door, one arm changing as he walked. The blue flames lit up the night softly. They made no noise, but were enough light to inspect the Sphinx closely. There wasn’t anything in the paws- no thorns or prickers. No scratches or wounds on the flanks either. Marco took a step back towards the front. Feathers were more difficult to inspect.
The sphinx’s head lowered, to eye the child. Curiously sniffing.
Ah. It wanted to inspect the newest member of Sphinx, huh?
Marco glanced at the child- staring at him. Eyes huge and full of wonder. Oh, right, every kid was fascinated by his flames. Marco turned back fully human. The kid blinked, and finally looked away- towards the sphinx. Almost flinching. Never seen a sphinx had he? “Never seen a sphinx yoi?”
“Well- Not really up close.”
Sphinxes were often used as guard creatures. There was even one in Impel Down according to all the witnesses. Not the most high level, but they were considered protective. “Hmmm. They tend to be friendly to anyone who feeds them, and if they see you grow up they’ll be extra protective.”
It was the islands protection when Pops had been sailing the seas. After he’d gotten them secured in the secret valley, he’d used the wild Sphinxes as guard dogs. It was just, with Weevil and Blackbeard stalking the seas, a few mere Sphinxes wouldn’t be enough protection. Marco dropped an apple into the kids hand. “Here, feed this to the Sphinx. It’ll probably accept you into it’s flock yoi.”
“I’m not sticking around.” The kid immediately rejected. Marco frowned.
The kid obviously had nowhere to go. “It won’t hurt.”
The kid shook his head. “No.”
If there were any gods out there, Marco would love for them to come smack some sense into the damn brat. “If you feed the sphinx, I’ll let you see my feathers again.”
“Th-That… No! No means no!”
The sphinx whined, paw coming out to paw at the air, as it crouched and hopefully stuck out its tongue. The kid stared down at the Sphinx with the same look Pops got whenever a kid came begging. A little bit of exasperation, indignation, and firm refusal. The kid shoved the apple back at Marco. “I’m not a giving kind of person!”
Wow, same words as Pops.
Marco wasn’t going to give him any leeway though. “You’re gonna be my patient. Which means getting along with the Sphinxes. Look at it. It’s begging you for a treat yoi.”
The sphinx had gone completely prone on the ground. Even in the darkness, it was clearly begging for the tiny little apple. The kid took a deep breath, crossed his arms- and started scolding the Sphinx. “Get up, and stop begging. There’s no reason. I’m not feeding you the apple.”
The Sphinx tail wagged, back and forth as it stubbornly remained laying down. The kid crossed his arms, unbudging.
Fucking shit, this scene looked exactly like Pops when he was sulking. Especially the day Oden left. But the kid was still holding onto the apple. Abruptly-
The kid took a bite out of the apple.
The sphixes tail went straight up, as Marco gaped. Why- Why eat the damn apple?! The entire situation was set up to make friends with the sphinx. Nearly everyone on the island had a sphinx! The sphinx began to cry. Tears welling up and pouring down its face.
The kid’s will crumbled like dust. Small hands patted he creatures head, “Listen, listen. I’m sorry alright? I just can’t stay. I have kids depending on me back home that I have to get back too. So you’ll have to be strong too.”
The sphinx groaned, but stood up. It’s entire being screamed at how sad it was, as it walked away. Tail, head, and wings drooping. The kid groaned, loudly- and shoved the mostly uneaten apple in its mouth. “Alright, fine, take your damn treat and go home.”
The Sphinx purred, as it rubbed its head against the child. The kid grumbled, patting the sphinxes head. But- he had to go home, huh? Marco rubbed the back of his head. How many kids could there even be? Couldn’t be more then five or ten… right? Even for a full grown adult, keeping multiple kids alive under difficult circumstances was too much. Most people, if they were gonna adopt or take in a vagabond child kept it at one to two.
This was a kid, and kids couldn’t keep each other alive. Not for long. Not without an adult. Or some kind of grace. The Sphinx trotted off, crushing the tiny apple in a single tongue flick. Marco took a deep breath.
It was truly dark now.
It was dark, and the kid was looking up at the sky, like he wanted to leave. His eyes were curved downwards, scowling with his entire body and mouth. The tiny, diminutive figure looked so big and imposing, just for a moment. Well, the people of Sphinx would probably be willing to open their homes to a batch of orphans. Marco could sink a few ships, pull in a group of orphans, it was fine. Then… What? He was a single man with weird schedules.
As a matter of fact, he was a man that couldn’t even cook a pot of soup.
The soup had boiled dry because he had it up too high.
How? How had it boiled dry already?
Marco sighed as he crouched, burnt pot in one hand. No, seriously, he wasn’t this bad at cooking normally. The bottom was burnt, and the rest was sludge.
The kid took the pot out of his hand, and pulled up a bit of the burnt bottom. “Eh, It’ll be fine. Waste not.”
The kid stood up, pot in hand. More water was poured on, and put on what was basically a roaring bonfire.
Hold on. Had he put the fire that large? Marco reached in, ignoring the burns. His blue flames fixed the injuries before it really hurt and-
The kid had grabbed his elbow and yanked back. Hard. Enough to send him falling back, as a foot wedged itself to prevent the back of his head from striking the ground. Wow, what a good catch. It reminded him of his first flying lessons and Pops lunging to catch him before he could pancake into the ground. “Oi, you bastard. I dunno what powers you got, but reaching into a fire with no protection is obviously no good.”
Why was the adult being scolded now? He was the adult, right?
Marco stared up at the ceiling, noticing a few cracks and holes he’d probably need to patch. A hand pinched his cheek. “Doc.”
“I’m here, and there’s no need to pinch my cheek. I wasn’t going to get injured yoi.”
“As long as you’re alive. I’d hate to be on the run from the village because they thought I killed you.”
“They wouldn’t do that.”
At least, the younger ones probably wouldn’t. The old ones who had survived Sphixes extreme poverty beforehand probably would break out the weapons they still had leaning against the corners. “If you say so.” The kid snorted as he pulled out his foot, and used a stick to poke the fire. It burned higher.
Ah, it wasn’t his fault.
It was the damn kid.
“There’s no need to cook on a fire that high.”
“But it prevents people from getting sick.”
“No, these ingredients are all good quality. You won’t get sick from them.”
In the first place- had the kid never had food that wasn’t boiled to death? Half rotted? Marco remained staring up at the ceiling. It just wouldn’t do to leave this kid in such a terrible situation. Marco stuck his sandal foot in the fire as the kid shrieked in outrage behind him to move most of the burning logs off the fire. “Hey, it takes work to gather wood you know. And it doesn’t have to be that hot. Well, it’s probably mostly ruined just from the burning.”
The kid shuffled his feet. Felt bad did he? Well- “Won’t be the worst I’ve ever eaten either.” He had eaten plenty of poisons willingly just to figure out their components. Pops didn’t know about it. He could still remember Pops rage when one of his siblings mentioned it without realizing Pops was nearby.
There had been a lot of shrieks when the seas started tipping.
But- Marco stood up slowly, and reached for the pot. It was boiling rapidly, but slowing down to a simmer as the heat gotten moved. The blackened burnt on bits were floating up. Marco dipped his fingers in, ignoring the scalding hot water. He pulled out a chunk, and popped it in his mouth. The potatoes were half raw. Burnt on the outside, and crunchy in the middle.
Thatch would cry. He’d be sobbing over this sorry excuse for a stew. Should he start over from scratch? It’d delay the meal, but- Marco’s stomach made a noise.
When was the last time he’d been hungry?
“It’s not done yet.” Marco announced, setting it back on the stove. The kid nodded, still not quite meeting his eye. Bashful after being scolded? That… didn’t fit. Didn’t fit at all. Somehow Marco was expecting to be fought.
To be argued with.
No, he was just… overlaying a dead mans memory over a small child that eyed the pot hopefully.
Right. Breakfast wasn’t much. The kid probably was hungry. But it wasn’t done yet. Marco settled down in a seat, and the kid followed suit. The kid adjusted, into a comfortable position. His right ankle rested against his left thigh, as he stared at the slowly bubbling pot. “So… what do I gotta do to earn it?”
“You’re my patient, so nothing yoi.”
“And after?”
“Well, I gotta know what you can do first.” Suspicion was the correct way to react to these sorts of things. There was no telling what Marco could demand. Marco knew that. Every child left without any form of protection knew that. What would Marco demand next?
First… what should he demand?
Well- “Do you know how to patch holes in the roof? I don’t.”
It wasn’t his job. It was his brothers. But his brothers weren’t here- scattered out to the world to protect themselves and Pops remaining legacy. The islands nobody would want. Fishman island was immediately taken over. So were a couple of islands that were stable and could pay ‘tribute’. But- Not the poorer islands. The ones Pops had dumped money into unceasingly.
“Not a clue.” The kid immediately said, instead of lying through their teeth.
Someone needed to teach this kid how to lie. “This is the point where you lie and say yes. Please learn how to take advantage of a soft-hearted fool. You’ll do so much better yoi.”
“I’m getting fed aren’t I?”
Damn this kids complete and utter confidence. Where did he get this confidence? Was he born with it? Marco couldn’t tear his eyes away from that smug smirk. Something so confident and dazzling.
It hurt.
It hurt as much as being pierced through with one of Kizaru’s beams. Even more, because he was now alone. Vista would be howling with laughter at such a self assured kid. Thatch would be too. They’d both be laughing, as Thatch pulled out a special treat. Izou would tut behind the kid, making a remark about how they ought to be brought down a peg. And all this other brothers would start eagerly piling in as Pops laughed in the background.
But, all it was, was a three room house with a single pot bubbling on a stove as a small child pulled a random sheet closer curiously.
Marco covered his eyes. Just for a moment. His observation haki would warn if there were any attacks.
Marco didn’t believe for a second that there would be any attacks. He just… couldn’t deal with it. Not at this moment. But. Marco took a deep breath.
When he opened his eyes again, the kid was squinting and frowning at the paper. Once again, he was struck by how much this damn kid looked like a dead man. The little mannerisms. The way his frown grew, and his arm got further away the more he didn’t like what was written on the paper.
Marco wanted to go home.
Home was at the bottom of the sea.
Marco stood up, and stabbed a potato in the pot. It was soft. Soup was best the second day, but it was more then good for the first day. It was a meal.
There was only a single bowl in his cupboard.
Marco would have to buy another, wouldn’t he? He couldn’t have a house where there was no extra bowls for guests. Not that he’d been expecting any to stay for meals. But-
Marco poured some into the bowl, and pushed the pot to his guest. It was fuller then his bowl, but he didn’t feel like sharing.
This bowl was simple. A light ceramic. Unchipped. A bright and cheerful green. Back home, if one really managed to get on Thatch’s good side, he’d pull out the Good Bowls. The ones that he had commissioned. Paid money for. Blue, with white whales. A few people had laughed, joking about how Thatch was like a kid to actually pay for those things.
That also didn’t prevent them from getting upset when their birthday meal wasn’t served in it.
Was it at the bottom of the sea now too? Nobody had the courage to pull them out after Thatch’s death.
Maybe not white whales, but a plain and simple white bowl wouldn’t be amiss. Or… “What’s your favorite color yoi?”
The kid looked up, cheeks puffed out to hold the amount of soup he was currently drinking. Marco laughed uproariously at the sight. Such a shocked look on such a tiny face. It was hard to believe just a few hours ago he was fighting Marco to not take a bath. Still drowning in clothes just too big for him.
The kid swallowed, licking his lips. He hesitated- “Blue?” It sounded like a question. “Dunno. I’m too busy to think about stuff like that.”
Right. When scrambling and grubbing around for food, things like favorite colors went to the bottom of the list of things to worry about. Marco swirled his spoon in his bowl. “That’s true.”
Think about it remained unspoken on his lips.
He couldn’t make such a promise. Not to anyone but himself. Maybe the kid was being used, maybe the kid couldn’t stay. Maybe Marco would once again not be strong enough. Yes, it was better to leave things unsaid. And instead, make plans. Around ten or so kids, if there were any other kids. There were a few households who’d be more then willing to lend a hand. And, probably, a few adults? Maybe not, from how scuffed up and injured this kid was.
It hadn’t been that long since the kid had been fighting.
He swung his right leg back and forth. The sandal scraping along the wooden floor, a single claw starting to leave a mark. Whoops. Stop his claws from showing. He didn’t want to scare the kid. That’d be bad.
But it wasn’t like his claws had been dulled. A fight on his shores?
Easy.
Marco had no problem with sinking a few ships.
Kidnapping kids.
It was truly a pirates life, wasn’t it?
But…
The kid struggled to bite back a yawn, as he chewed on the half-burnt food. Had he napped while Marco had been out and about? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, the stars sparkled outside. An ever changing wheel that had no fixed point. Not truly. But oh- was the spear constellation up in the sky? It could change what direction it was pointing, making it impossible to fully navigate by. But, it was still a marker. A way to navigate.
Marco surveyed his extra blankets- not that he had any. He had one blanket. One set of sheets. A single pillow. He was so unprepared for a visitor… Surprisingly, despite Fossa’s gruff, scarred exterior, he was the most likely to have extra soft things to rest on. Or knew where they were stashed.
The kid was knocked out.
Dead asleep on his chair, clinging to the pot empty of food like it was the only thing left. The only good thing he had in the world. Marco stepped closer. Hesitated- and reached out.
The kid reacted immediately. Waking up, teeth bared and hand scrambling for a weapon already flicked out of reach. Marco reacted instinctively, using his hand to push the kids body back. Away from him, still with range of motion. But away. “Calm down, I was just gonna get you to a place to sleep.”
He was going to keep the pillow, the kid could have the blanket. The kid blinked, sleepiness crashing in-
And a bit of a fever. The medicine was doing its job, but the body was reacting. It probably would’ve driven out the fever that was slowly growing in the kids body. Said kid moved, snubbing even the blanket to drop into the soft, deep grass outside of the house. It could get bitterly cold at night on a Fall Island. Marco was worried- how could he not be? He tossed the blanket over the child. The kid stirred, starting to bristle-
Marco changed. Letting flame and blue wrap around him, to become one who could touch the skies. Fully bird, and nonthreatening rather then a partial transformation. He flapped his wings, and took to the skies.
Well aware of the child's eyes that tracked him.
Why was he working so hard for one damn kid?
He wasn’t.
He was doing this for a real reason!
Mainly, the kid had to come from somewhere.
The second he got close to the mountains, Marco let his flames vanish. Going into ‘stealth’ mode, as much as he could. Where was the damn ships or ship that the kid came in on? A slavers ship? It had to be around here somewhere. He’d sink it in the night, drowning the slavers and decide what to do with the slaves.
There was absolutely nothing out on the seas. The beaches were empty, without even so much as a single footprint. No wreckage, no sign of anything. Just pure emptiness. The secret path was slightly overgrown from non-use.
Where the fuck did the kid come from, and where were the ones he was trying to protect be hiding?
A bunch of snot nosed brats in a wooden dinghy couldn’t make it out of Sphinx. The seas were just too dangerous- far rougher waves, far more dangerous monsters. Which buried the poor countries as even poorer. Barely any- if any- merchant ships, the close proximity (relatively) to Hachinose. It all combined into one terrible fact: Once a island started a downward spiral it was impossible to get out of. Not without someone stepping up, and becoming insanely strong.
But- it also meant isolation.
So where was the damn boat that had brought the kid, injured and bleeding to Marco’s doorstep?
It wasn’t on the horizon, nor the sheltered coves. No Sphinx could sniff it out- they didn’t even know what Marco was talking about. There was not a single sign of anything. It was deep in the depths of night the Marco finally gave up to return back over the mountains. Rather then have any passing ships see a human walking along the shore, it’d be better to have a bird sailing far above it.
His house was completely dark. There was the Sphinx from earlier- the one that had begged the kid for a treat. It had never really fully left, and now came edging further in. To stretch it’s legs, and offer its fluffy fur as a bed.
The child inched closer. The Sphinx rolled over, paws in the air as it offered up its soft and fluffy stomach for sleeping on. Small hands sank into the fur, and a familiar tone grumbled, “You shouldn’t be so trusting. What if I was someone here to kidnap you and take you away?”
The Sphinx grumbled, softly, and made no further move. The child's breathing slowly evened out. Falling deeper into sleep. Marco landed on his roof, and stared down. The sphinx looked so happy and content like this, completely exposed, but like one of its own pups was resting on its stomach.
Marco landed on the ground, a certain distance away from the two. The night sky was sparkling, the air cool and crisp. Cold enough that he wanted to retreat back to the kitchens where the fire was almost always on, and listen to the cooks joking and laughing as they prepared for whatever snack or meal was coming up. There was always someone hungry on a ship carrying a thousand brothers.
Marco leaned against his doorway. His kitchen was cold and dark. His breath puffed up into the cool air, not fully visible in the darkness. The hot-springs beneath the cherry blossom trees… would they be steaming now? Even spring islands would experience a winter. Now would actually be about the time for it, wouldn’t it? The trees bare of their blossoms, a chill in the air not normally found. The ‘slow season’ for that island, though very few people could make it that far. The island was never that busy.
He could fly there, if he wanted. Resting on island to island.
But, what would be the point?
He had no injuries to heal there.
Marco breathed out.
On the other side of the mountains, the sun was rising.
It wasn’t rising in this little valley yet. Marco closed his eyes. Just for a moment.
When he opened them again, it was to the child hesitantly reaching out to touch his hand. Marco straightened from the doorway, eyes flicking the child up and down. They had messily folded the blanket in a way that said they had tried but didn’t know what they were doing. “Here’s your blanket. Will you… Show me the way out now?”
This damn kid-
“I took a look at the shore. It was empty. There was no sign of a ship, no footprints, the secret path was unused… Hey kid, how’d you get here yoi?”
“I already said I don’t know myself!”
“Anyways, let me see those scratches.” Marco decided to ‘accept’ that unknown. The kid still wouldn’t tell him their name. “Maybe today you’ll tell me your name?”
“You said you were gonna call me Fool. And look, see, the scratches are all healed up.”
True to the child’s words, they were already scabbed over. The red flesh had shrunken. Already the infection had been fought off. Truly the fast healer.
Strong fighters were fast healers.
Marco could guess how strong a person would be simply from how fast they would heal from their injuries. This kid was sure to be strong. Which only meant, more then ever- “I’ll show you the way to the beach, but in exchange, you gotta show me where you hid your ship.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The kid mumbled, frowning. The kid knew something. Something Marco was missing. It clawed at his heart and throat, rather unexpectedly.
Anger, and fear.
Was this kid threatening his island? The last fucking remnant he had of Pops gentle side he wouldn’t show the outside world? He couldn’t allow that. Not even for a moment. “Kiddo. This island is mine to protect. I won’t accept any harm to what’s mine yoi.”
“There’s no need to threaten me! I know that, and I don’t want it to be harmed either! This island is beautiful, calm, and peaceful. I just- Ahhhh, it’s fine. If you’ll show me the way out, we’ll go from there.”
Marco hesitated. But, it wasn’t like there was really any other way, was there? The kid seemed truthful at least. So for now- “Alright. Let’s go.”
Marco moved lightly through the secret, hidden paths. Occasionally doubling back to throw off their tracks. Maybe confuse the kid a little, in case they were ever forced to come back this way.
There was a boulder, split in half that had a tight gap to squeeze through. Most pirates were stopped at that boulder. The people of Sphinx were generally on the shorter side, so they could fit well enough if for some reason they needed to go to the shore. Marco followed the kid through the gap-
Smoke rose.
Thick, heavy, choking smoke. Not of grass- no, of homes. There was a distinct difference. Homes had a heavy, oily, irony smell burning. There were distant screams. Children? Why would- since when-
“ANNIE!” The kid started running, shitty spear in his hands as he rushed in the direction of the screams and yells. Already picking up new scrapes in his bare feet, and Marco really should’ve gotten him some kind of shoes. But it was too late now. Marco suddenly understood the kids hesitance.
Especially as a child with a familiar facial structure and holding a club suddenly appeared on the path. There was a sluggishly bleeding wound that looked like the scar on the old mayor of Sphinx that had been there since Newgate’s time. “Newgate!” The kid chirruped, confirming Marco’s suspicions, “The slavers grabbed-”
That was all he needed to hear.
Marco took to the air immediately, flames and feathers a rocketing meteor towards the ship in the bay. Every instinct, every memory, every goddamn regret that had been clinging to him since his family had broken like glass cups in a rowdy pirate tavern- They all came shattering through his calm demeanor in moments.
An old man, coughing up blood.
A young man, unable to set aside pride.
A brother, betraying the whole damn family and continuing to betray them every day. Tearing down everything Pops had built. Destroying it thoroughly, as if Pops had done something wrong to him.
Claws sliced through the boat like a hot knife through cold butter. Slicing through wood, tar, nails, cloth- ripping apart the disgusting excuse of a hellhole. Marco could hear the kids cry for help beneath the decks. Hear the harsh breathing of men who’d realized that there was no escape except death. It was easy.
Insanely easy.
It reminded him of why they’d been feared, the strongest crew of all of them for so long. Feared to the point that islands they never visited had songs about how scary Pops was. Or perhaps, that was their weakness. Never having the need to be strong when Pops was.
Except there was Pops, a tiny little child. Scraped and battered, but hauling his- ‘brothers and sisters’? Or perhaps not family members- just- people he felt inclined to protect out of the sea. There weren’t just humans- but also sphinxes. A tiny little body, as Marco crushed bones and cut off heads. Sinking the ship thoroughly as houses burned and the shoreline was covered in blood. Flame and smoke billowed around him in a giant wave, cutting off haki and sight.
As the ship sank, the last bits of flames drifting on the open sea, Marco turned. Hoping. Praying. Begging the sea-
He wanted to cry when the only sight was that of grass growing on a long abandoned town.
There was nobody huddling in destroyed homes. Nobody with makeshift weapons desperately attempting to defend against the bigger pirates and slavers. No child with a face that betrayed every emotion looking at his wings with awe.
The connection had disappeared without a trace. Sending both sides careening back to their lives without even a goodbye.
Had Pops guessed? Somehow known he was seeing a ‘possible future’? Hadn’t dared to speak a word while full of wonder on the beauty of what could happen? Or would he cross the mountains and be disappointed at the emptiness?
Either way-
There was so much he had wanted to say.
No, even a thousand years wouldn’t be enough. There was no amount of time in the world to contain all the things he wanted to do with Pops, all the questions he wanted to ask.
Marco sat down on a once burned log slowly being covered with moss. The only sight on this beach was broken houses covered with greenery- and a burning ship sunken into the ocean. The scene wavered, and blurred.
Edward Newgate hadn’t really had time to think. Who could think, when running to protect the kids? He wasn’t sure if the man following him with such suspicious eyes would assist. Though he’d honestly been on the edge of losing his mind since the beginning. He’d just gone out hunting for food, sat down to rest, and when he opened his eyes… It felt like ‘heaven’. Those old tales he had been told, about a peaceful place. Sure, he was the one banged up and still hungry but-
It was so peaceful.
Clean air, blue skies, the sound only that of wind and animals.
No screams. No smoke. No cries for food. Nobody lying down in the broken streets with mouths stuffed full of straw to calm their stomachs while they starved to death. People passed by, smiling and laughing. Was he a ghost? Killed in his sleep?
But the little children creeping up on him with wide eyes and a penchant for trouble had quickly dissuaded him from being dead. It reminded him of the kids he’d protected back home as they chattered his ear off about how pretty his yellow hair was. He was also well aware of the man in the house behind him keeping an eye on him. So… not heaven. But close. Extremely close. A heaven that had a guard… dog? Guard bird? That watched him, along with the wild Sphinxes that wandered up and down the valley.
Food, clothes, a warm place to sleep.
It was impossible.
It was never meant for him.
He wasn’t someone who could be given such things. He was the one who ought to be providing those comforts to the others. He was the strongest on the island, and the one to get the food. Fight off pirates and marines alike. Sure, there were injuries, but- it wasn't like he could provide anything else. He couldn’t grow crops. The only food available had to be taken from passing ships. A life full of fighting- that was all he knew. The only life he could see.
One day, without a doubt, he’d go down fighting.
Probably at a young age- that was the usual pattern, wasn’t it? Newgate always knew a long life was not destined for him. But, even knowing that…
Newgate took a deep breath, tinged with smoke and screams. That secret path… could he find it? Did it actually exist? The ship that had been the islands doom- a slave ship big enough to snatch them all up and haul them away- was sunken by a bird that looked like he had recognized Newgate’s name.
He wanted to talk to that man more. Ask him why he’d care about useless things like favorite colors. Why sometimes the man looked at him like he wanted to cry. Why the house… felt emptier then the ramshackle, caved in place he slept with the other kids. Why the man couldn’t bring himself to open a single book. Newgate hadn’t peeked, he wasn’t someone to mess with folks actual treasure. The treasure that they couldn’t part with, even if it was painful.
But- There were so many unanswered questions.
So many things Newgate wanted to know.
Did that peaceful village actually exist in the center of the mountains?
A low noise broke him out of his thoughts, away from the slowly dissipating smoke cloud. The sunken ship had left behind another treasure- Sphinxes.
The creatures were wounded, snarling and biting after being hauled off by the slavers. There were crates of food floating in the ocean. Newgate eyed the crates, then glanced back to the Sphinxes. They were miserable looking things, crowded up together. Untrusting.
Sphinxes were… soft. And gentle. Normally. Warm, for the extremely chilly nights that often struck Sphinx. And… They had snapped their own cages. So they were strong.
Strong enough, that if Newgate left, he could hope that the others were protected. All he could do was pin his hope on that for now. Did theses Sphinxes know about the valley? Either way- “Annie. Can you grab some food from one of the crates? Let’s see… if we can make the Sphinxes our friends.”
Tomorrow, when the sun came up, he’d have to check the waterfall. See if the pathway existed. If it didn’t… he’d deal with it at that time.
But… the pathway probably did exist. The Doc probably wouldn’t be there. Not anymore. Newgate hoped the Doc wasn’t there, because otherwise that meant the Doc had lied to him about the rest of the kids not being across the mountains. To keep… just him? It didn’t make sense when they’d fought half of the time. Doc didn’t seem like that type. Not when he called himself a ‘soft-hearted fool’. Newgate… liked him. Him and his so called soft heart.
The doctor wouldn’t lie about that probably. Plus, there had been a change, coming around the waterfall. Newgate couldn’t explain it, but it was a crack in the air, same as when the Doc had gone sweeping through the air to sink the ship. Both he and the ship had vanished in a awe-inspiring flash of flame.
Annie shifted beside him, looking worried. “B-But- Some of us haven’t eaten…”
“I know. But there’s a lot here and some of it will go bad before we could eat it. You saw how strong they were. So we’re gonna do our best to tame them.”
“Slavers constantly attack because of them!”
It was the main reason ships even bothered attempting to land. There was a single beach. It was rocky, and the rest of the island’s sea-level were sheer cliffs. Sphinxes were good guards as long as they were grabbed early enough in development. But- taming a full grown one? Newgate took a deep breath, as he fished a crate out of the ocean. At least the slavers had a good amount of food. The meat was already threatening to go bad.
Fuck, he was drooling at the sight. But- it was too rich for his tastes! It was fine, he’d eat the sea-water soaked bread instead. It wouldn’t be as tasty, but that soft and comfy bed! He could still remember it! There were a bunch of little kids he wanted to experience something similar. Because, he wanted to see their smiles. “Here I go.”
Newgate slowly approached, food in hand.
It was time to begin his own project with the hope… of leaving this island. Ships had money. Lots of it. If he went out to sea, he was bound to find plenty of ships with food and money. Getting it back to Sphinx would be difficult- but… this was a chance. As long as he knew that this island was protected, he could leave.
Maybe out at sea, he’d find that doctor again. And ask him all kinds of questions.
Yeah.
He didn’t mind eating shitty food. Didn’t mind being the only one that could fight well. Didn’t mind the one being relied on. He was strong and capable enough of doing it. But he wanted to know. What had allowed them to meet. Where the doctor really was- could he find it out on the ocean?
The sea wasn’t freedom, it was death. A place of no return. But- it was the possibilities. The possibilities of food, the treasure that cycled endlessly in and out of Newgates hands to try and keep everyone fed, the possibilities of finding-
“Newgate.” Annie spoke up softly, as a sphinx took the food out of his hands. “What happened? Are… you planning something?”
“Well, if I’m right… Then everyone will be safe.” Newgate left out the part ‘without me guarding you’. He couldn’t say that yet. Not until he was certain.
The Sphinx purred softly, guard falling as it sniffed him. Was it the scent of the other sphinx that made him trustworthy? Newgate reached up to rub the snout of the Sphinx. He really should’ve treated the other one last night better. But for now… “C’mon. Let’s see if a miracle happened.” Newgate muttered.
The waterfall was key. Either it would lead to the inside of the mountain and provide protection. Allow him to take to the ocean- or he’d stay here on this island for who knew how much longer until things stabilized. He had no family here, but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon the island either.
It all came down to just one item.
Edward Newgate hadn’t been one for praying. But what else could he do but pray now? Please, please- he wanted to go to sea.