Francis Rackam

A young boy sat on a stump on a cliff, as he watched the ships sail by. The sails were of various colours of red, yellow, blue with insignias of different kinds representing the kingdoms and companies they belong to. They were mostly merchant ships which transported goods from one island to another and one nation to the other. One can say that these ships build the skeleton of the economy in this age.

But at the same time, there was another type of sails that has become predominant with the coming of Pirate Era, the black sails.

The boy watched in nostalgia, remembering the past few years, which had completely changed his life. The once sheltered boy with not an ounce of worry was now in position where he had no idea what was right and what was wrong.

The people he lost were the ones most dear to him but he was in a sorry state where he couldn't even properly grieve about them. And he didn't want to cry for in his heart, somewhere deep within, there was a fire. Anger and rage. To get his revenge. To bring down the heavens which stole his happiness from him.

Looking back at the 16 years he had lived, he couldn't help but feel angry at the stupidity of the innocent child he once was.

But he was weak. There was nothing he could do now. He has to grow strong, strong enough to kill the gods.

He had ran away from the strangest seas to this peaceful waters, like a coward who could only save his life at the expense of others. But he had to survive. And he knew it. For only then can he avenge the ones who had happily sacrificed themselves for him.

Power. Greed for power. That is the cause for most troubles in the current world. Why else would Crocodile go after Alabasta or Doflamingo after Dressrosa? And wasn't that the reason the World Government was created?

The boy himself held a power like no other in him. The power which had once shaken the heavens. The power which once maintained the balance of powers in this world.

Bite!!!

He took a bite from the apple he had plucked from a tree nearby but strangely it tasted salty, from the mixture of tears that involuntarily fell from his eyes.

He wanted to stop crying and keep this anger alit in his heart. But remembering what he had lost will never come back again, he just couldn't control it.

-:- Scene Change -:-

The boy stood near the ship, looking at the muscular man near him.

"What is your name?" the man asked.

"Francis Rackam" there was not even the slightest wavering in his voice.

"Do you have experience sailing?"

"Yes sir, I have a history of sailing with two other crews at two different occasions."

"Well that is alright, but how about fighting?"

"I know a bit, sir. I can use cutlass very well."

The man was impressed by the boy's answers but "We have already recruited the number of persons we need in the town and they are a lot more experienced than you are. So we won't be taking you."

The boy had no way to refute it. In this age, there were a lot of people more experienced than he was. And it was not like he had to join this crew, he can wait and join another one later.

He walked back half-dejected. It wasn't the first time he was rejected but he wanted to earn money. He opened the pouch counting the fortune he was left with now, and it was not even enough to pass the week.

He walked into the tavern, ordering the attendant for a basic meal which was a piece of quiche and a soup to go with it.

"It's been five years, huh?" Francis muttered reminiscing the day he had escaped the Grand Line. He had boarded a merchant ship, passed the Calm Belt and arrived here. As he had no money on him, he had to do menial jobs like cleaning and washing. As a pampered boy, he had difficulty at the start but later, he got used to it. And now, after five years, he was well versed in most jobs. He had taken up different jobs in the past, sometimes working on the farm while other times, under a local merchant.

He had changed so much in the last five years but he was upset that he couldn't grow strong in combat and was only at the level of an experienced sailor. This would mean that his revenge has to wait a few more years.

He was lost in his thoughts as he sipped the soup from his bowl.

He was too indecisive. In his heart and mind, what he desired most was revenge. But he had to earn first to live, only then can he get his desired retribution.

Just then, a thin girl with aquamarine eyes and hair, entered the tavern. From her attire and huffing, it was clearly obvious that she had been running all this way.

She looked around and as she spotted Francis, she walked upto him in anger.

Francis, who saw her too, knew it will be a pain to deal with her but he had to do this job.

He slowly chewed his quiche as if ignoring the approaching girl. But the girl didn't care the attitude the boy showed.

"What is this? I heard you are leaving" she asked.