A Pirate's Life for Me

Fleeing Alabasta!

The Shark

Turmoil had gripped Alabasta for months, slowly eroding the once-thriving kingdom. With the king's waning influence, whispers of the princess's disappearance, and rumors of forbidden dance powder and devastating droughts spreading like wildfire, the kingdom was on the brink of collapse. The once prosperous lands were crumbling into dust, the rivers drying up, and the once-lush fields now barren. The kingdom's veins were drying as the land itself seemed to wither under the weight of misfortune. Naturally, unrest brewed. Rebellions formed like wildfire, with rogue citizens rising up and taking matters into their own hands. They organized in the shadows, planning their rebellion against a failing government. It wasn't long before violence erupted across the kingdom, and what began as skirmishes soon escalated into full-scale war. The royal palace itself was raided after news spread that the king had turned against his own people, cruelly attacking them in their time of need. The violence reverberated through the desolate desert sands, echoing through the broken streets.

My timing to arrive could not have been worse. I am Hoshiko, the wielder of the Shark-Shark Fruit. "Devourer" would be a more fitting title, given my powers. My hair, a deep shade of greyish-blue, cascades down in two thick braids that reach the ground, their weight often pulling at my neck in a constant reminder of the burden they carry. Since I consumed the plump, blue fruit, my once-dark eyes have turned a pale, sickly pink. The color drain was a cruel side effect, but it was the loss of my sight that proved the most disheartening. Now, I only see vague shapes and colors, a world that has become a blur in the light. But where my sight has faltered, my other senses have sharpened beyond human limits. My sense of smell is like that of a hound, tracking blood and scents with precision. My hearing, too, has become finely tuned; I can navigate the world by sound alone, even if it's just the faintest rustle of wind or the subtle scuff of footsteps on sand.

For the past year, I've wandered the seas, stowing away aboard any ship that could take me from one place to another. My small, wiry frame makes it easy to slip into shadows and hide in the most inconspicuous places. I'd been to many places, but Alabasta proved a challenge I had not anticipated.

The ports are tightly controlled by the royal palace, more so now with the rebellion's rising power. Supplies are tightly monitored, especially after the scandal that exposed the illegal smuggling of the dance powder by the palace itself. Tension hangs heavy over the importing and exporting of goods. Even the pirate ships that once frequented these shores have grown scarce, driven off by the presence of one of the notorious Warlords who defends the kingdom's interests against such threats. Days turned into weeks as I found myself stuck in the capital city, unable to find a way out. Each passing day seemed to tighten the noose around my neck as the rebellion escalated. I had no way to escape, no ship to catch, and no allies to turn to.

The kingdom had descended into all-out civil war, with rebels clashing violently against royal forces. Buildings crumbled, engulfed in flames or shattered by blasts. The once-pristine sandstone streets were now soaked with the blood of both the innocent and the guilty. Chaos reigned supreme. I could no longer stay in the heart of the conflict—survival had become my primary concern. I had to escape the city, find shelter, and survive the war engulfing Alabasta. My only chance was to slip out unnoticed, to venture into the inhospitable desert that stretched endlessly beyond the city walls.

With only a few supplies secured in a pack slung across my waist, I made my move. The streets were chaotic, with soldiers and rebels alike clashing in every direction. I carefully navigated my way through the tumult, using my senses to avoid the chaos and stay hidden. The city's walls loomed ahead, their towering presence offering a semblance of safety. As I neared the gates, I saw the opportunity—an opening in the defense, a moment of distraction. With a burst of speed, I slipped past the guards and into the desert beyond.

The sun blazed above me, its heat intense and unforgiving as I stepped into the vast emptiness. The desert was my only refuge now, the endless dunes stretching in every direction. My journey into the unknown had begun.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A few days had passed since I fled the chaos of Alabasta, and I found myself trudging along the winding path of the Shandora River. The sounds of the city's battles had faded into the distance, but the questions that lingered in my mind were endless. Had the palace managed to regain control, or had the rebels overtaken it? Would the ports still be standing after such bloodshed? Was there even a way out of this madness? The desert's dry heat clung to me like a second skin, draining the life from my body with each laborious step. My legs felt heavy, each footfall dragging me deeper into fatigue, as if the weight of the world had settled on my shoulders. My body was weakening, but it was the exhaustion of my mind that truly terrified me. My thoughts no longer felt like my own—each one seemed to reverberate in my skull, an echo of some distant voice or a lost fragment of my own consciousness. I felt like an empty vessel, nothing more than a hollow shell processing thoughts that weren't truly mine.

And then, just as I thought my sanity might slip away with the heat, I saw it—a ship. No, two ships. One caught my attention instantly. It stood out, even from this distance. A jolly caravel, its wood a striking golden oak that shimmered beneath the oppressive sun. At the ship's bow, a ram statue jutted out toward the horizon, the exaggerated features almost comical in their design. The sails, though, were a different story—dingy and tattered, tied tightly to the mast. The ship appeared stationary, its anchor firmly set just off the shore. A black flag fluttered atop the crow's nest, a symbol of death and defiance—skull and crossbones, with what appeared to be a tiny, almost whimsical hat perched atop the skull. The heat waves distorted the details, and my blurry vision couldn't make it out clearly, but the symbol didn't matter much. This was a pirate ship, and that was all I needed to know.

A surge of hope ignited within me, despite the sluggishness that weighed me down. A pirate ship meant a way out, an escape from the kingdom's crumbling edges and the war that seemed to swallow everything in its path. Without a moment's hesitation, I quickened my pace, moving along the shore as I cautiously drew closer to the vessel. The air was still—too still. I couldn't smell the familiar scents of pirates, no wafts of salty sea air mixed with the musk of unwashed bodies. It was eerily silent, the ship lying dormant in the river's calm embrace. No signs of movement. No sounds of life. The crew, if there was one, had to be on the other ship nearby, perhaps finishing some errand in the city, looting what was left of its treasures before making their escape.

There was no time to waste. If they returned and caught me, my chances of slipping away would be gone. I crept forward, my movements silent, my breath steady. My senses were heightened, listening for any sign of life on board. There was nothing. No footsteps, no voices, no clattering of equipment. I reached the ship and found the anchor rope, feeling the rough fibers beneath my fingers. Carefully, cautiously, I began to scale the ship's side, my feet finding purchase as I made my way upwards. The heat from the wood radiated beneath my palms, but I focused on the task ahead, making sure not to disturb the ship too much. One wrong move and the crew could return to find me.

Once I reached the deck, I was extra cautious, checking every corner, every shadow. My sight was failing me, and I could only rely on my other senses to guide me. Silence. The deck was deserted. "That's odd," I murmured under my breath, surprised at the emptiness. "Usually someone is left to guard..." I didn't have time to dwell on it. Pirates were unpredictable, and who cared about their responsibilities? This ship was simply a means of transport now.

I made my way deeper into the ship, slipping into the bowels of the vessel. I passed through the narrow halls and stumbled upon a small barrel, likely used for storing supplies. It was empty now, but it would serve my purpose just fine. Without a second thought, I crawled inside, curling my small frame into the space. The lid sealed tightly above me, but I made sure there was a small gap to allow air to pass through. I tucked my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my body, trying to make myself as small as possible. My exhaustion had finally caught up to me.

I closed my eyes, the blurred world around me fading to complete darkness as sleep overtook me. In that small, confined space, with the scent of wood and saltwater filling the air, I found some semblance of comfort. But even in my fatigue, I couldn't help but wonder—what would happen when the pirates returned? Would they notice the strange presence aboard their ship, or would I have the chance to slip away unnoticed? The only certainty was that I had no choice but to wait and pray that fate was on my side.