I hissed for the umpteenth time today as I cleaned my wounds. My arm stung with the rage of a boiling inferno, as I tried futile-ly to curb the streaming blood that seemed to have an aversion to the inside of my body."Whichever idiot it was, that claimed that having theoretical knowledge was enough to have a head start with training was an abysmal fool that deserved to be hung!" I thought fuming as I covered up my damaged arm, wrapping it with the linen bandages that father had most thoughtfully packed for me.
It had barely been an afternoon since I started training, and I already had the wish to avoid it like the plague. This red haired uncle did not make it easier, infact he seemed to revel in my misfortune as he scolded me from time to time.
As some of you might have guessed, this red haired uncle was indeed related to that other red haired uncle shanks, though this uncle was in fact that uncle"s father, yes not very complicated indeed. He was a member of my grandfather"s crew, though what position he had, I did not know. The only thing I knew as of this moment was that he was a s.a.d.i.s.t, how I knew this of course, was quite a no-brainer. It was because of his demonic training.
He had tied my legs to a moving wooden branch, with holes on the ground quite symmetrically placed, with spikes popping up and down erratically. He did this to train my upper body "dexterity" though I don"t think he knew what that meant.
Now I had just been given a breather before we moved on to the "stretches that would probably kill me", where I was supposed to stretch all parts of my body while submerged under water, his logic being that I could hold my breath for as long as I could before he came to save me. It was to let my skin breathe for me, so I could even survive under water. (he said it had worked for him, though he didn"t know whether it would work for a devil fruit eater or not)Hence the name.
So started my journey through h.e.l.l…
"Chop chop brat, to your feet, we have some suicidal training regimes to go through!" he said, what truly irked me though, was the fact that he believed that I would truly benefit from this whacked training, truly a scary man.
He began to walk towards the pond at the edge of the town, his footsteps leaving no imprint on the ground. As he walked he hummed a song, making it look like he was taking his morning stroll instead of leading a poor child to what was probably going to be a h.e.l.l-of-a pain in the a.s.s.
The wind kissed my unruly hair as I made my way behind him, it seemed to have that salty sea feel to it, and felt quite nice, though I was not in the right mind to appreciate the good feel of it, as I was quite preoccupied in my worries.
We finally reached the pond, and I could feel my heart beat incessantly, Fear, yes that was what this was, true I had felt fear before, but never like this, this time "fear" felt like a snake, coiling around my limbs, constricting them, and repeatedly biting my heart, its venom causing my heart to wheeze weakly.
I did not know whether this "fear" was because of the devil fruit, or because I could probably end up dead. In my previous life, the only thing I feared more than death was pain, and now I felt it return, when I had faced the blast of tartoros I had feared, but not like this, probably then I was too caught up in the events to truly notice, but now, now I felt it in all its true and ugly glory, rearing its head.
True I could probably erase fear from my body with the help of my fruit, but I knew, deep inside, that that was not the way I was to do it, I had to face my fear, face it and win! Otherwise I could Not be the one who would become the strongest pirate! Screw being the pirate king! Screw becoming the next head of the pirate council! I would be a free wind, a wind that would suppress the world!!! I thought as I took a deep breath before plunging into the icy pool.
As I sunk I could feel my muscles scream, and my mind spiral into a never ending abyss of terror. My body felt weak, and my head felt fit to burst as I tried to calm myself, already making a copy of the feel of the surroundings, so I could replicate it later, while also paying close attention to the condition of my body hoping for the opening of pores or something on my body that would help me breathe underwater.
One minute pa.s.sed and I could feel my body on the brink of consciousness, but I held on, with the same willpower that had come to me when I had proclaimed my urge to slaughter a path to Mary Geoisse, now it had appeared again, and it helped my consciousness anchor, the lack of oxygen tormented me, but yet I held on, and then I felt it! a tiny stream of what seemed like air blossomed through the heart region of my chest before disappearing in the maze that was my body.
I felt it, and I fed upon it with the same vigor of a starving dog at sc.r.a.ps of food, I "inhaled" (for lack of a better word) through the tiny pore, before leading the tiny stream to my head, trying to re-oxygenate my dying brain, yet it was not enough, it felt akin to feeding a century hungry ghost to crumbs of the same century old bread.
As I felt my consciousness slip away however, I felt the touch of hands on my shoulder, before feeling a yank to the surface of the water, where the true oxygen was.
Yes, I probably might die going through this disguised abuse, but atleast I finally understood how scientists felt when one of their experiments gave a new result… that"s a positive, right?....... Right??