Chapter 1

On a small island named Salus floating in the north blue, a mountainous ship shaped as a whale docked with a single sole purpose. To locate and obtain a seed for their father and captain. They will soon find out though, that nothing ever goes as planned, especially for pirates.

Marco, the first division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, had volunteered to go inland on the hick island located somewhere in the North Blue. He usually let Rakuyo keep track of their location while sailing out on the sea. But today, Marco's job was simple enough, find an herb called Crataegus Oxycanthus. Now it didn't matter that the name was overly complicated and had problematic pronunciation, well it may have mattered a little, but what was really important was that it would ease the strain of his captain's heart. Ever since a year or so ago, Whitebeard had been experiencing trouble with his heart, along with a myriad amount of other ailing, his heart had been the most concerning out of the lot. Even though the ship's doctor, Jim, had told Whitebeard that his drinking would send him into an early grave, Whitebeard would laugh it off and go on a rant about brats these days while pouring himself another drink. So the crew came up with a compromise, Whitebeard can drink to his heart content, pun intended, but he has to take a dose of Crataegus Oxycanthus every week. And this had been working fine up until their dealer ran out on their agreement, claiming it was hazardous to his health to be dealing with pirates. In reality, it actually proved to be more hazardous to run out on a pirate's agreement.

Now Marco was forced to wander the island's only town looking for an herb shop. He had to cajole the directions out of terrified sailor at the town's shabby port. And even with those directions, he seemed to be going in an endless circle. Everything on the island was nondescript and unremarkable, no land marks except for a giant hill off in the distance. Marco's been to a lot of islands in his lifetime, but he had to chop this one up on the top five list of the most boring islands in the sea. He couldn't imagine living there, he'd probably end up shooting himself out of boredom.

Combing over the directions in his mind again, he tried to remember if he was supposed to left at the mundane lamppost or right. He scratched his head, his fingers travelling through his yellow hair. If Thatch was with him, he'd probably tell him he had a bird brain. Who was he kidding, he'd probably still tell him that when he got back to the ship. Flipping a mental coin, Marco went right. But even after that brain splitting decision, he was faced with yet another turn. For such a midget island, there were a lot of streets. At this next turn though, Marco suddenly noticed an alley with a sign pointing down into it. The sign read Miss. Lynn's Herbs. Marco swept through his mental directions, this wasn't where they lead to, the shop was supposed to be next to a tree, or was it a marquee? Did it really matter? No, probably not. An herb shops and herb shop right? Marco veered down the alley and towards Miss. Lynn's Herbs.

The door to the shop was old and rickety with rusted hinges, the windows were clouded and had fractured cracks throughout it, the whole thing screamed sketchy. As Marco tentatively twisted a disease infected looking doorknob, a tiny, chipper bell rang throughout the cluttered store. Shelves that reached the ceiling filled the whole store. Atop the shelves were jars of different shapes and height, each contained a variety of colorful herbs, both liquid and solid. Some seemed to contain other substances, substances that seemed closer to body parts than plants. The more pungent smells seemed to leak through those specific jars. It infected his nose and stained his palette. He would need some really strong liquor to get rid of the stench. The only clear path in the whole store led to a high desk in the back of store. An aging woman sat behind the desk, a permanent scowl dominated her face. Marco assumed that women was Miss. Lynn. Honestly, she seemed way too old to be a Miss.

Mustering all the pleasantness Marco had stored within him, he asked the woman, "Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?"

Miss. Lynn looked from the papers she was sorting through with an unnecessary vengeance. Once she set her eyes on him, her scowl deepened to an uncomforting level that would make a normal person flinch. She briskly whipped her gaze away from him and back to her papers, "Get out"

"What?"

"Get out" she repeated, not bothering to look back up at him. Her paper shuffling becoming nearly violent.

Marco wasn't sure if he was understanding the situation correctly. According to his memory, he has yet to say anything rude or mean, yet being the keyword, and this lady was acting as if he had kicked her puppy. Sure, he's killed people, but he could honestly say that he had never kicked a puppy before. Marco decided to rephrase his question, in case this 'miss' was heard of hearing, "I'm in town looking for some Crataegus Oxycanthus, and I think it's commonly used for-"

"Get out" she roared, shoving the creased and crumpled papers onto the desk, shaking the rickety old thing straight to its joints.

It was his turn to scowl at the woman, sleepy eyes turned hard and serious, "What's wrong? I just want some herbs? Isn't that what you do?!" His voice had risen to a shout.

She slowly relaxed into her chair, gripping the edge of the desk with a steel hold. She managed to hiss out from between clenched teeth. "We don't do business with pirates"

"Why not?" Marco stalked closer to the desk, his eyes baring into hers. They held the fierce stare till Miss. Lynn broke the silence.

"You are despicable people, now would you get out of my place of business. I have no qualms with contacting the marines, I bet they would love to know where one of the four Emperors crew was located," she breathed, she laced every word with a sort of hatred that comes from pure and unadulterated abhorrence. Marco was almost frightened at her level of antipathy towards pirates, but refused to back down.

He was about to retaliate towards the woman, if words don't work, then maybe his flames would. He was losing his temper, and fast. His palms were already sparking with the raw power of his phoenix flames as the woman started to lean over the desk, her meaty fist clenched tight. The ominous air of an impending fight was broken by the crisp ring of the bell attached to the door. Marco eased himself around slowly, keeping one eye on Miss. Lynn while he inspected the new arrival.

The new arrival was a young girl. Short, wavy hair framed her face, two pieces curled around her cheeks, one partly covering her right eye. The color was a dark blue, a blue that reminded him of the New World's eternally stormy seas. Her big eyes were a dark green, similar to the moss that grew up and around trees. She was a tiny, frail thing, she couldn't be over the age if ten. A giant metal collar like necklace was around her thin neck, her white dress that could easily be mistaken for a sack hung limply on hollowed out collar bones. In her stick arms was a basket filled to the brim with herbs. Some in particular that looked like a picture Jim had shown him earlier that day.

"Oi, girl!" The child flinched at his raised voice, "I need those herbs."

This got a reaction from Miss. Lynn, "Mila! Get out now!" She nearly launched herself over the counter at she yelled.

The girl, Mila, was shocked, confusion marred her face, "What's wrong? I thought you needed these," she lifted her basket of herbs. Her arms shock weakly at the weight of the plants.

"No, not anymore, just go!" She swung he arm toward the door, beckoning her to leave.

Mila slowly backed out the door, concerned laced her features. She backed out of the store, pressing the door open with her back, her eyes trained on Marco and Miss. Lynn. She hugged the basket to her chest as she scurried out the door.

Marco curiously glanced at the woman again once the child left, "Who was that?" A sly smile spread across his face, his mind churning.

"None if your business, now get our or I'll call the marines!" She snapped, her clam composure flown out the window.

Marco grinned, "Of course, I shall see you again" with a tip of his head, he left the store. And as he darted after the girl he heard the sound of a bottle shattering against the door he had just excited out of.

Mila POV

I wonder what was wrong with Lynn, she seemed so tense. She was usually in a sore mood, but today she just seemed downright terrible and for no apparent reason. Maybe I had brought her the wrong herbs or maybe it was that I interrupted her while she was with a customer. Maybe it was because I flooded the kitchen this morning trying to make breakfast, or when I tripped and broke the vase. Maybe there was reason for her mood after all.

Well, at least she'll be happy when she finds the herbs I gathered for her on the windowsill.

I was walking around the back of the shop when I heard something. I tried to jerk around to see what had interrupted the clam silence of Salus Island, but like always, I felt impossibly tired, so I just glance over my shoulder. My hair fluffed over my shoulder as I did so. I couldn't see anything behind me, so I continued towards Lynn's and I apartment above the store, chalking it up to my imagination playing tricks on me.

Even though we live together, Mrs. Lynn and I don't live together. She was mandated by the World Government to by my guardian. It wasn't a particularly ideal situation. Mrs. Lynn usually didn't take notice of Mila often, probably resenting me for having to babysit me on Salus. The island where nothing to ever happens. When Mrs. Lynn does acknowledge my existence, it is to yell at me or order me to go out and gather an herb for her. A particular nasty jo since all the good herbs were on the other side of the island, which meant crossing the giant hill in the middle of the island, and with my condition, that was almost impossible.

If I had any choice in the matter, I would choose to go live with my parents. I have no memory of them though. I was repossessed by the government at the age of three.

I was about to ascend the appalling stairs that lead to our apartment when a man cleared his throat behind me.

"Excuse me,"

I turned around to see the same man from the store standing just a few feet away from me. The man made my brain itch, as if I've seen his face before. Could he be a- no, why would a pirate ever come to Salus, "Yes?"

"Well, I was wondering if you would come with me for a bit?" His sleepy eyes looked as if they had whirring gear behind them. This man was surely up to something.

I regarded him carefully, not sure I should reply or run. Running would be a great escape, but only if I could move faster than a snail's pace. And by the look of the yellow haired man, he was in great condition. He could easily take down a normal ten year old, but me? Too easy. "I think I should go. . ." I decided on saying while slowly backing away from the man, hoping to inch my way closer to the stairs.

Without another word, the strange man darted forward and hooked his muscular arm around my tiny waist and took off, me in tow.

"Excuse me!" I shouted over the sound of his feet against the cobbled street, "I'm not comfortable with this situation in the slightest!"

The man refused to listen me as he raced down Main Street with me in his arm. People on the streets stopped what they were doing to stare at us as we zoomed past.

"Isn't that Mila?"

"I think it is, but who is that man?"

"Don't you know? That's Marco The Phoenix, the first division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates!"

"A pirate?!"

"Does Miss. Lynn know?"

"If she did the town wouldn't be in one piece, someone tell her!"

"Alright!"

Before long, we cleared out of town and at the docks, the very edge of the island. I've never been to the docks, I have only ever been allowed to go farther inland. Lynn says the sea is an awful place, not that I really believe her. The alluring blue of the sea could never be described as anything but majestic.

"I'm not allowed to at the docks," I protested when the man stopped running and took a clam stroll down the wooden dock. The boards creaking under his sandals as he moved at a leisurely pace.

He kept solemnly quiet as he trekked on, this pushed my nerves further off the edge, "I want to get down, let go of me!" At first it might have been a little exhilarating being carried through town, but now the man was scary, I didn't trust him in the least. I started to kick my small legs, pushing my nonexistent muscles to the max. They soon began to ache in protest and I let them fall. Not giving up on the prospect of escape, I put my arms to the test. My arms were as weak, or weaker than my legs, so they didn't last very long after I started my pursuit.

The man ignored my best attempts and readjusted me in his arms, securing me in his arms, ensuring I had no chance of escape. I banged my arms one last time against his taunt back, my fists uselessly bounced of his back. Frustrated, I let my body go limp, attempting to weigh myself down and make it harder for him to carry me any further. He grunted at my limp weight and I smirked. It was cleanly wiped off my face when he flipped me over his shoulder, my head then buried in his back. Drooling or spitting on his back briefly ran through my mind. The reasonable side of me, the dominant side of me, claimed that that was gross and below me. Giving my mind and body a break, I let the yellowed hair man carry me down the docks.