Crossed Guns

Chapter Seven: Memories

    Xaiver woke up with his head pounding, like he had been whacked in the head. Turning over the beeping machine, the tube in his arm with the blood of the unknown. In order for this to hopefully work, he had to loose blood every know and again to keep the flow going. The nurses were no longer there, only Marco who came to check up on him and bring or medicine. Still, he had no news about what the hell was going on outside of the room. He didn't even know what the time was.

    All the books have been read and waiting to be replaced, sketch books were on the desk. They were on the desk because the movement would cause a mess up and would make the blood flow go wrong. So there was nothing else to do, but stare at random places in the dim lit room. Guessing by the fact that the chair was moved, Marco already came in checked to make sure everything was okay. Letting out a silent sigh, his head was set back down against the pillow. Eye's slowly closing and opening up at the boring white ceiling. Letting his mind wander through memories, back to the day that the Whitebeard pirates came to the island. The night when they were partying in the town, the day that Xaiver saved some of them.

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    Twigs snapped every know and again as Xaiver dragged a small wagon behind him. It was filled with nice animal pelts and some herbs. The pelts would give him a good price at the butcher, the herbs for any tourist. He didn't sell the herbs for a high price, the island was kind of filled with the herbs.

    As the trail took him out of the forest and beside a cliff. Taking a moment to look out at the ocean and to catch his breath. There, out about 50 yards from the docks was a huge whale boat. The Whitebeard pirate ship. Xaiver has seen wanted posters of the 16 division commanders, all except the 2nd commander. People say that he hasn't had one since Oden left.

    Taking a nice deep breath before contuining on, the birds chirping in the background as the chilly air cooled him down. The sweat rolling down his body, soaking the white buttoned up shirt. Sleeves rolled up with bandages around his fist. It was still very early in the morning so taking his time to enjoy the piece and quiet. The sun slowly rising, casting an orange light along the path. Little creatures running out and back into the woods.

    Time passed and passed as he contuined down to the town. The entrance was just ahead, people playjng music. People waved as he passed, giving some tourist herbs for about 25 berries. The town was as lively was ever in the morning, children playing tag with each other, women spreading gossip, men having hangovers. The same as always, some of the ladies were talking about the pirates that were apparently in the town.

    "It's a shame that none of the commanders are hot, not many people on the ship are hot."

    "Well that cheff was kinda cute."

    "You mean the one that was trying to flitt with the first few women that he saw? I mean yeah I guess he's kinda cute."

    The voices faded away as he kept on walking, the women were always picky on the island. Mostly everyone was picky on the island, it was hard at first to please the Butchers or any animals. So, Xaiver tried his up most best to hunt good aninals and not ruin their pelts. There was an old man, he ran the Butchers and liked Xaiver's little trinkets.

    Looking around, Whitebeard's pirates were wondering around, flirting, shopping, drinking. All that pirate daily life.

    "Hey Xaiver!"

    Going to the side not wanting to get in anybodys way before looking around.

    "Xaiver, over here young sir!"

    It was the old man, there beside him stood the first division commander. Walking over, feeling the cool fire gaze set upon him.