"Three of them." Roger's roar of laughter rolled through the Sea Forest. He hoisted the inked rubbing like a child brandishing a favorite toy. "Only one more Road Poneglyph and the final island is ours."
A cheer like thunder broke from the crew. For the first time the end of their voyage felt close enough to touch. Weariness blew away like spray off the bow, replaced by bright, hungry faces.
Neptune watched these lawless men and shook his head, helpless but unresisting.
"Your Majesty Neptune." A timid voice piped up behind them.
They turned. A mermaid no older than ten clutched the hem of her dress and stared at the strangers, fear and resolve wrestling in her big eyes. She held a crystal ball as if it were the only solid thing in the world.
"Shyarly? What are you doing here," Neptune said, surprised.
Shyarly did not answer. Her gaze slid past the men and locked on Joy Boy's apology stone. Bewilderment and awe flooded her face as if she were seeing something no one else could.
"The promise… it will be fulfilled," she whispered. The words were soft but carried to every ear. "Ten years from now… our king… will be born."
"A king," Neptune blinked.
"The mermaid princess," Shyarly trembled, as if an ocean of images were crashing through her head. "The one who can speak with the Sea Kings. The princess of legend."
The ancient weapon Poseidon. The name rose in Rayleigh's and Kozuki Oden's minds at the same instant. Both men went still. Not long ago on Skypiea they had read of the same power. They knew what kind of terror lay behind that prophecy.
"Ku-hahaha," Roger's laughter cracked the solemn air. He slung an arm around Neptune's broad shoulders and thumped him like a brother. "Hear that, Neptune. Ten years and you are a father."
"Ha," Neptune jolted. Color climbed his cheeks fast enough to see. He stammered, "D, do not talk nonsense. I am not even married."
"Better hurry, then," Roger waggled his brows, oblivious to the poor king's fluster. "Ten years fly. Do not delay Her Highness' debut."
The crew could not help grinning at their pure-hearted host.
Roger's interest drifted neatly from stones to the strange little seer. He crouched to meet Shyarly's eyes, studying the crystal in her arms.
"Little miss, you are a fortune teller, right. Give us a reading."
His gaze burned hot as the sun. Shyarly shrank, spooked by those eyes.
"Do not be afraid," Neptune said, with a sigh he did not notice in his own voice. "They are not bad men."
Buoyed by her king, Shyarly drew a breath, lifted her face to Roger, then laid both hands upon the crystal and closed her eyes.
Her pupils snapped thin. Her stare seemed to pass through Roger's body and out into a horizon no one else could see.
"I see… a storm of cheers… and a lonely curtain call," she murmured, troubled. "But that is not an end. It is a beginning. The sea… is boiling."
"Oh. That sounds fun," Roger grinned, unbothered. "What about him, my first mate." He hooked Rayleigh by the shoulder and parked him in front of her.
Shyarly peered at Rayleigh. Her face went odd.
The crystal's light blurred, then cleared. The free and rakish swordsman was gone. In his place stood an older man with grease on his cheeks and stubble on his jaw, hammer and nails in hand, tink-tink-tinking away at a hull.
"You are… coating ships," Shyarly said, tilting her head.
"Pft."
"Pfhahaha."
Buggy and Shanks burst out laughing.
"A coater. Mr. Rayleigh. For real."
"The Dark King retires to be a handyman."
Rayleigh, too, blinked, then stroked his chin and chuckled. "Sounds like a peaceful old age."
"Me next," Gaban said, grinning. "Let us see mine."
Shyarly looked into the crystal. Its glow turned hard. Her voice followed suit. "I see a battle."
"Your foe is enormous. Like a mountain. The whole body is wrapped in shadow. I cannot make out its shape."
Gaban's breath grew heavier, a smile baring his teeth. "Now we are talking."
"But," Shyarly added, puzzled, "you are not using a weapon."
Gaban stalled.
"You are barehanded," she went on. "You pin that leviathan beneath you."
The crew traded looks. Each man pictured a shirtless Gaban wrestling some unnamable colossus to the ground.
"Your clothes are… lost in the struggle," Shyarly finished, baffled.
"…"
Kael Grylls fought a laugh and failed.
At last every eye settled on the man trying very hard not to smirk.
"Our musician," Roger said brightly. "What symphony is fate writing for him."
Shyarly turned to Kael.
The instant her gaze touched him, the little mermaid recoiled as if struck. She fell back, blood draining from her face. For the first time those eyes that peered into tomorrow brimmed with pure fear.
"Shyarly," Neptune cried, lunging to catch her.
Laughter died on the deck. Something had gone wrong and everyone felt it.
"What is it. What did you see," Rayleigh asked, voice low.
"C, cannot see clearly," Shyarly stammered. She clutched her head as if to hold back a flood. "The earth is heaving, rolling like surf. The sky is cracking like glass. A wall of water… a wave that swallows everything."
The images came in torn pieces, yet they chilled every spine. That was not a fight. It was calamity. The end of the world.
Silence swallowed the Sea Forest. Even the fish slipped away as if they felt the cold.
"And Kael," Gaban asked, dry-mouthed. "Where is he."
Shyarly lifted her head. Terror sharpened her eyes to points. She looked at Kael exactly once, as if any more would burn her.
"He is there."
"At the center of it all."
"With his back to the world."
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