The Drawn Sword is Crafted!

Earlier "Commander Sayyid?" The purple haired assassin emerged from the darkness of the cabin of their ship. She called once more. Her silky voice complimented her enigmatic presence, hidden behind a white mask. "Commander Sayyid-"

"Watch out for the broom!" Sayyid screamed..

"Ah!" She stumbled over a broom that probably would have not tripped her in the first place had Sayyid not startled her. Unfortunately she landed forward. But rather than a face filled with wood, she sunk into the ship as if it was liquid. The floor immediately returned back to solid, leaving not a trace of the girl. Sayyid turned back to the view with a face of embarrassment.

"Oops."

The floor next to Sayyid start shifting as she climbed through it. Finally picking herself up and standing next to her commander, she looked towards the beautiful island covered in a bustling town of seafarers and merchants. And although her world was nothing more than an abyss littered with thousands of different colors, the amalgamation of hearts and emotions created a beautiful collage of life. She saw things that the commander could not. "Shouldn't we be heading towards Hamcroft?"

"Our journey begins with setting up our foundation. We'll be facing a lot of trouble without a log pose and some working information." Sayyid spoke. He smiled at his close friend, the second component to the righteous sword meant to deliver humankind to utopia. "This island is the first stop in the Revolutionary Network. Where we'll declare ourselves a division in the Revolutionary Army."

"You spoke about that earlier. What is it?" She asked curiously.

"The Grand Line is just the beginning. There's an entire world filled with mysterious powers and systems. Countries where the World Government and Military operate, constantly at war with the greedy Pirate emperors who rule the seas." He sighed. "Joining the others at the Kingdom would be damn near impossible for people without any prior knowledge. Combine that with the confusing mapping of the constantly shifting major bases of the main forces. So we use a system of hubs called the Revolutionary Network meant to provide a support system. Each hub contains information about the journey to the next island. It also serves as a safe haven for us to rest and gather supplies to continue fighting onwards."

"Whose in charge of this, Revolutionary Network?"

"The people. Those who aren't able to join the great war. People with families. People unwilling or unable to throw away their lives but desire change. An army isn't comprised of just warriors at the front line. We need a support system. Especially considering we're enemies to both pirates and the marines..." "I see. Once we land, I'll take disguise and watch your back." She offered. But Sayyid could only smile. "Why're you smiling?" She asked worriedly.

"It always gets me that you know when I'm smiling even without your eyesight." Sayyid chuckled. "I'm just happy that our cause will grow. But, I want you to stay with the ship for now. I need to handle some business and being the first island, impressions matter as they have direct communications with Naki Kingdom."

"And him..."

"Yeah." Sayyid's voice softened. "But don't worry about it. After I get some answers and supplies, we'll be off to Hamcroft and I'll show you their tavern." Sayyid's smile returned. There was nothing to worry about. It was an order from above for Sayyid to bring it to salvation. And so God wouldn't let anything happen in this war against the false prophets.

"That's a promise, commander." Zarqa smirked

The town on the eastern front of Casia was bustling. Filled with merchants and sailors looking to make an honest dollar under the regime of the World Nobles. There wasn't much a military presence. Why would there be on such a small forgettable island? Sayyid traversed the seaport with his crimson cloak covering his visage. He entered a bar and sat at the stool. Surrounded by scarred men. Seafarers with thousands of tales who once sat where he had. Guardians. Sayyid thought. The bartender approached the young commander. His face also covered in calluses, as if his weapon for freedom was his face.

"Y'know, we don't often allow hooded folk here kid."

"I'm quite sensitive to the light." He pulled out a golden coin. "I'm not here for trouble. Just here to get a drink."

"Whatever. What's your poison?"

"Protea Tea."

"Really? You?" The bartender asked. His head tipped to the side in confusion. But the lowly barkeep eventually released a sighed. "I guess they keep getting younger and younger. Your drink'll be in the back. Left right up then down the door to the second left."

Sayyid smiled and walked off. Following the directions, he found himself in a room without lighting. Only then a small latch opened.

"Do you know where you are?"

"I stand between the fatal struggle of the past and future." Sayyid hated those words. Not for some philosophical reason but for the fact they were so insanely cheesy. Maybe they should know he thought about that phrase while in the bathroom. Sayyid chuckled at the thought of embarrassing him.

The door opened. Revealing an inner tavern filled with a refreshing scene. Hundreds of men, women and children each wearing different insignias. Weapons were littered everywhere. Laughter and cheer! Sayyid smiled. It reminded him of the hub back home. This was a place where the World Government couldn't see. A place that preached happiness and unison. Even in the darkness of the world, there was light. But now was not the time for reminiscing. The young commander made his way to the back room where he knocked several times.

The door opened to reveal a shocking scene. An office. Organized paperwork. A mahogany desk. And behind it sat a man dressed cleanly in a suit without a speck of hair out of place. "Come in." Sayyid entered, walking past the guard who'd open the door in the first place. "How can I help you?"

"My name is Hurra al Sayyid. I am the leader of the Drawn Swords of Wholeness and I wish to register with the Revolutionary Army."

"Really? Don't you think you're a little too young to start your own division."

"The army is lacking in support last I heard."

"Of course. But that doesn't mean we want any old schmuck to go off wearing our flags. We have a reputation to keep, all the more important with the validity of your previous statement. What makes you think you're capable of serving the people while retaining the Revolutionary Army's good name?"

Sayyid removed his hood, revealing his ebony face kissed by the sun above. His white hair was kept short but smooth. He stared at the man with intense silver eyes. It was as if, when his hood fell, the non-attentive clerk felt his spirit grab his focus. A thick, threatening presence surrounded this tired looking stranger dressed in a red cloak "Because any Revolutionary who dies for their cause shows the people the importance of our fight." Each word heavier than the last. Influenced by the mysterious energy almost choking the guard behind him

"Well spoken." Silence befell the room once more as the clerk tapped his pen. "Not often do we find people like you. In fact, you seem vaguely familiar..."

"I'd hope so. I am going to follow in the steps of the great Monkey D. Dragon." Sayyid spoke. His voice filled with confidence. This wasn't some dream or idea. But a proclamation. These words carried with them the immense power hidden within his spirit. A power which would surely break the world. It resonated with such strength that the clerk seemed to forget his train of thought.

"Well then...Sayyid Al Hurra. I will accept your request. Fill out these papers and I'll have it sent over to our registry. Once completed, just tell us the location of your ship and we'll drop off the flags alongside your log pose, instructions and map to the next hub, tomorrow morning. Welcome to the Revolutionary Army."

A tough day. But the quiet night was soothing to the now official Revolutionary! Sayyid almost thought that the clerk would've killed his dreams. But now the young commander could head back to his ship. His crew was comprised of sailers from the islands he passed before crossing into the Grand Line. Young adults who wished to join the Revolutionary Army under a strong commander. Now with the official registration in his pocket, their dreams would finally come true! The thought of going back to their cheers and drinks warmed his stomach. "I should bring over some sweets."

He stopped at a nearby shop. His brother told him of this family owned business back in West Blue, a shop where they grew rare fruits from deeper islands in the Grand Line. It was a taste of what was to come for those who stopped by. "I'd like 34 Colonial Cakes please." Sayyid ordered.

"34?"

"Yeah, they're for my crew. We're going sailing for some fish tomorrow...I heard these things were lucky-"

Sayyid was interrupted by rigorous coughing. He turned to see a small child laying atop a bed, her face pale and hands trembling. An older woman tended to her frail body, patting her head with a wet sponge. "My dear child, he'll be back soon. I promise."

"I'm sorry." The shop owner bowed his head. "My niece is sick and her parents are out making an appeal at town hall. I need to watch her...but can't afford to miss a day of business."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Recently some marines from a nearby Summer Island stopped by. They'd caught this sickness from one of those whore houses they liked to visit." The shopkeeper's face saddened. "Lucky for them, one of the flowers native to here produces the antibodies needed to fight off their sickness. We used this flower to fight off sickness and ailments for centuries. But we knew the importance of breeding and nature preservation. But they drained the species. Took all the flowers they wanted cause it'd mean continuous fucking without worrying for their health. In their arrogance, they left only one flower as compensation. The mayor has made it illegal for its use, in fear that the species would be completely extinct and another sickness would plague this island."

"That's horrible..." Sayyid asked softly. Anger boiling at the thought of the selfishness of the marines. He wanted to find them...and...

"Luckily the birds of this island have carried the seeds to some nearby islands. But the rich quality of this island is impossible to replicate. Meaning the chances that nearby islands were able to grow a single flower is slim. Still, her brother took a ship several weeks back and promised to return in time...but..." His voice trailed off. "I'm sorry stranger. I shouldn't burden you with this. But sometimes it gets so hard...So hard being helpless. Those selfish marines and their foolish ideas of justice! How is this justice..."

"Where's the flower?" Sayyid interrupted. "I'm going to go fetch it."

"But the Marines?"

"Don't worry about they won't know I was there." Sayyid smiled. His aura wrapping around both the shopkeeper and his wife who chimed into the conversation.

"I'll draw you a map. Its easy to get from here, but you'll have to find it yourself. They replanted the flower before leaving." She added. "If you do this, we'll give you whatever you want!"

"Just send over 35 of those cakes to my ship at the docks and tell my crew I'll be there shortly."