25 Prank (1/2)
”Now that that's out of the way, let's go back to the inn” I said seriously as a still flabbergasted Sorren followed behind me in a soulless manner. Fawkes shrugged noncommittally as he began to chuckle and took large swigs from a canister of sake that I had nabbed in the previous day's chaos.
A similar canister hung silently on my hip, which I immediately unclasped and drank from. (I must admit, I had turned into quite a drunk…) before I began on my way toward the inn at the end of the road.
The people around walked with a purposeful demeanor, with steady steps and lines of sweat running down their forehead as a result of the tyrannical noon sun. A cough echoed from behind me as I noticed an old man.
His hair looked abnormally grey, and his face was filled with nothing but wrinkles as warts shone as far as the eye could see. A thick brow and a hunched back along with a wooden stick lay on his person as he looked at us. (When I say looked at us, I of course speak in relativistic terms, his brow blocked all forms of vision and seemed like someone who depended more on observation Haki than anything else…)
”Could you move out of the way, young man?” He began in his over the top wheezy voice, motioning for me to clear out of the way of the old kimono wearing relic.
I simply nodded as I moved, a slight breeze blew over his bald head as goose bumps appeared and an unconscious tremble travelled down his neck. A whoosh echoed into the into the sultry air as the old man vanished, his wooden stick cluttering to the floor as a small cherry blossom settled on it.
The street suddenly seemed strangely empty, the winds began to pick up, before lifting the tiny blossom and sending it flying into the noon sky, disappearing quickly in the sun's glare. Noise begun to filter into my ears as a hand settled onto my shoulder bringing me back from what I could only assume to be a hallucination.
”Anything wrong?” Fawkes asked, barely any concern in his voice, before he continued on his journey giving me no more attention. My hair swiveled as I forcefully calmed myself down and ran trying to catch up to the already far away Fawkes, Sorren still trailed behind me a curious look on his face….
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”So…hick, Barthelomio's was still alive all this time huh..” Jack murmured as he completed the third barrel of sake and lay wasted on the grass. Tanken had long left and Jack had now chosen to whittle away at his boredom by training his patience.
”So…Son of mine, what are you doing here so drunk that you make this old man blush in shame?” a voice rumbled as Ragner walked toward his son and sat down looking sadly at the pair of prosthetics that lay beside his son's prone body.
It had beautiful calligraphy at the very end, seemingly a sign of someone close to Jack, evident in the doting glance fired at it from time to time. ”When I gave lore the bird from this island, I didn't think the first message I would get would be news about an old friend..” Jack said sighing.
Before Lorean had set sail, his father had handed to him a small bird, barely the size of a child's palm, born and brought up in the islands around raftel, they were able to navigate to it from anywhere, thus the letter in Jack's hand.