Apprentice

She'd broken three things since waking – a wooden cup, the edge of the dresser, and now the floorboard beneath her knee.

"That's the third thing today," she muttered, staring at the splintered wood.

Her fingers traced the broken edge of the floorboard. If she could break things by manipulating their connections, maybe she could fix them too.

She pressed her palm against the damaged wood, focusing her mind on what she wanted. Instead of pulling atoms apart, she tried pushing them together. The purple energy flowed from her fingers into the splintered pieces.

The broken fragments drew toward each other like magnets. Wood fibers reconnected under her touch, reaching across the gap to find their original positions.

When she lifted her hand, a thin line remained where the break had been, but the floor was whole again.

"Better," she said, running her fingers over the repaired surface.

A clock chimed from downstairs. Briggs would be expecting her for her first day as his apprentice.

"Morning," Aria said, stepping into the workshop.

Briggs glanced up from his workbench. "Tea's on the stove. Bread and cheese in the box."

Aria found the breakfast exactly where he'd said and poured herself tea from the dented kettle. The mug warmed her hands as she watched Briggs work.

"What's first?" she asked, finishing the last bite of bread.

The shipwright looked up, eyes assessing her. "Test day."

"Thought I was already hired."

"Hired, yes. Trusted, no." He rolled up the blueprints. "Need to see what you can do before I decide where you fit."

He pointed toward a disorganized pile of wood scraps in the corner. "Sort those. Hardwood, softwood, usable, trash. Then show me you can handle basic tools without losing any fingers."

Aria approached the pile, picking up a piece of timber. "Easy enough."

"We'll see," Briggs returned to his work, but she noticed him watching.

She knelt beside the wood pile and began sorting. Her hands moved over each piece, feeling the grain and density. Some pieces were familiar—oak, maple, and walnut. Others had strange grain patterns and unusual coloration she'd never seen before.

As she sorted, she created four distinct piles, occasionally tapping pieces against each other or running her fingers along the grain.

"What about that curved piece?" Briggs called without looking up. "Where's it go?"

Aria picked up the piece in question, feeling its weight and flexibility. "Softwood, but usable for trim work."

A nod from Briggs. "Correct."

The morning progressed with increasingly complex tasks—measuring timber with precision, cutting joints, sanding surfaces, setting clamps for glue-ups.

Sailors stopped by throughout the morning, each needing repairs. Briggs handled negotiations while Aria continued working.

"You're not gripping the saw right," Briggs called after watching her struggle with a tough cut. "Let the tool do the work. You're forcing it."

Aria adjusted her grip, easing up on the pressure. "Like this?"

"Better," Briggs nodded, coming closer. "Though where'd you learn to hold it that way?"

"Self-taught," she replied, focusing on the smooth motion of the saw.

"No wonder it's wrong," Briggs muttered, but with amusement in his voice.

Sweat dampened her shirt and sawdust coated her arms as she completed each assignment. Her muscles ached from the unfamiliar work.

The workshop door opened with a jingle. A merchant entered, carrying a rolled parchment. His boots tracked mud onto the clean floor.

"Briggs! The Seafoam's rail needs replacing. Hit a reef near Gecko Island."

"Again? Told you to fix that compass." Briggs took the parchment and unrolled it, weighing the corners with small tools. "Three days, minimum."

"But—"

"Three days. Unless you want it falling apart mid-journey."

The merchant grumbled but nodded. With a curious glance at Aria, he left.

"That's the third merchant this week," Briggs shook his head, rolling up the plans. "Everyone's in a rush, but no one wants to navigate properly."

"Not bad," Briggs admitted as they paused for lunch. He handed her a sandwich wrapped in paper. "You've worked with your hands before."

"Told you," Aria said, taking a bite.

The sandwich contained smoked meat and sharp cheese. She ate quickly, hungry from the morning's work.

"What kind of work?" Briggs asked, unwrapping his own lunch.

Aria considered her answer. "Engineering student, back home. Hands-on projects, mostly. Nothing like this, but the basics translate."

"Engineering?" His eyebrows rose. "Like Marine ships?"

"Different kind. Structures, machines, design principles," she took another bite. "But I can adapt."

Briggs studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Afternoon shift starts with a delivery. Need to take these replacement parts to the fishing boats in the east bay."

He pointed to a wooden crate near the door filled with wooden components and metal fixtures. "Should keep you busy until sunset. You remember the way?"

"East bay. Got it." Aria finished her lunch and dusted off her hands. "Anything else I should know?"

"Watch for Marines. They've been checking all deliveries since those pirates showed up." Briggs handed her a folded paper. "Invoice. Make sure they sign it."

She tucked it into her vest pocket. "Consider it done."

The crate was heavier than it looked. As she lifted it, Briggs added, "And Aria? Try not to cause any more trouble."

"Model citizen, that's me," she promised with a half-smile.

The village buzzed with activity as Aria walked toward the east bay.

A Marine patrol passed, eyeing her crate suspiciously before moving on. She kept her expression neutral.

The east bay appeared as she rounded a corner. Fishing vessels lined the docks, their crews busy with repairs and preparation for the next day's work.

Aria navigated through the busy dock, scanning for someone in charge.

She balanced her crate carefully as she moved toward the end of the pier where several older vessels were undergoing repairs.

An elderly man looked up from his work as she approached, his hands working complicated knots into a fishing net.

"Delivery from Briggs," Aria announced, setting down the crate.

The man grunted. "About time. Been waiting three days for that rudder pin."

He stood, stretching his back with a series of pops. "Name's Hatori. I manage this dock."

"Aria," she replied, unpacking the items and arranging them on a nearby table.

Hands with rope-calluses reached for the parts as she unpacked them. Fishermen gathered around, eager to claim their ordered components.

She laid out the wooden pieces and metal fixtures in organized rows. "These need signatures."

Hatori examined each piece before marking the invoice, nodding with approval. "Good work. Briggs' usual quality."

"He knows his trade," Aria agreed, watching fishermen collect their ordered parts.

"That he does." Hatori handed back the signed paper. "Not many shipwrights left in the East Blue with his skills. Most head to Water 7 for real money."

Aria looked up, recognizing the name. "Water 7?"

"City of shipwrights in the Grand Line. They say the ships built there can sail any sea. Every craftsman dreams of studying there."

"But not Briggs?"

"He had his chance, years ago. Chose to stay here instead," Hatori shrugged. "Some men prefer the quiet life."

By late afternoon, the crate was empty and the invoice fully signed. Aria stretched, relieving the tension in her shoulders.

Briggs looked up as she entered, checking the signed invoice she handed him.

"No problems then?"

"All delivered." She set down the empty crate by the door. "Hatori says the rudder works perfectly."

"Good." He returned to his carving, a small model ship taking shape under his hands.

Aria turned toward the stairs.

"Your pay."

He tossed a small pouch across the workshop. Aria caught it mid-air, feeling the weight of coins with satisfaction.

"You earned it." He hesitated, then added, "That room above the shop... previous tenant left some books. Navigation, shipbuilding, that sort of thing. Might be useful for someone looking to learn quickly."

"I'll check them out. Thanks."

The stairs creaked as she climbed to her room.

Aria counted her earnings—thirteen berries, exactly as promised. After deducting five for room and board, she still came out ahead for the day. Not much, but a start.

The books Briggs had mentioned were stacked on a shelf—"Basic Navigation of the East Blue," "Shipwright's Guide to Timber," "Weather Patterns and Sea Currents."

She ran her fingers over the spine of the navigation book, wondering how much she could learn from text alone. 

She flipped through diagrams of star charts and compass readings. The illustrations were detailed, showing how to plot courses using the night sky.

She opened "Weather Patterns and Sea Currents," searching for information that might help her journey. The book described common East Blue phenomena, but contained only warnings about the Grand Line – calling it unpredictable and dangerous without offering specific navigation techniques.

"Useless," she muttered, closing the book with frustration.

Aria walked to the window, looking out at the harbor where fishing boats returned with their daily catch. Her thoughts drifted to Gale.

Briggs was teaching her shipbuilding, but she needed navigation skills too. Without proper knowledge of the seas, even the best ship would be useless.

"I'll try again tomorrow," she decided. "He can't stay angry forever."

She was about to turn from the window when something caught her eye—movement on the path leading to Gale's house.

Aria tensed, focusing. Five... no, six figures advancing through the shadows, moving with purpose toward the blue house.

"More pirates?" she wondered, reaching for her boots.

As if answering her question, moonlight glinted off something one of them carried—the unmistakable gleam of a Marine uniform's insignia.