Ru stared at the sky above him. How long he hadn't seen it… 5 years? 10? Time flew differently in the pits. He had become a celestial dragon slave at 17 and since then, life had been hell.
The sky looked wrong, too wide, too open… it made his chest ache.
In the pits, all you could see were stone and iron. They always smelled of sweat, blood and piss. The only light came from above, through thin strips of sunlight, mocking the slaves, reminding them what they had lost. Some were born in the pits, raised there and died there to the whims of the 'gods'. Perhaps that was a mercy in and of itself. If you never knew freedom, you couldn't miss it.
A bird flew up above, a black bird, cawing as it circled him, thinking he was about to die. But he wouldn't. Death was a mercy and he had learned that mercy didn't come easy. And, truth be told, he didn't want to die, not really. Perhaps he hadn't been so thoroughly broken as his masters thought, perhaps seeing the sky again awakened something within him. Something which he thought long gone, a sense of hope that nestled deep within his chest, clinging to his flesh.
Why had his masters dropped him off here, instead of killing him? It made no sense. He had seen many slaves executed when the gods grew bored of them and yet he didn't get the ax, bullet or sword, instead, they threw him into the water. You see, he had been serving drinks that day and had spilled something, three drops at most but that was enough to infuriate his master, a female celestial dragon(they didn't get to know their masters names) and she had him thrown into the sea. Perhaps she had thought there to be no way for him to survive, alone in the waters of the grandline…
Entire warships were swallowed by whirlpools, storms could get so violent that the winds bent steel.
Perhaps it was destiny or maybe just one, big, cosmic joke. Either way, he wouldn't waste this chance.
Ru struggled to his feet. He could feel the wind rushing past his unkempt blue hair and could smell the salt in the air. He looked onto his big, burly hands, hardened by years of fighting, they were scarred, new scars layered upon old ones. Each told a story, a face of a man, woman or beast that he had to face in the pits.
He could still see them when he closed his eyes, the trembling rookie shoved into the arena on his first day, the mink who had nearly gutted him with her claws and the wolves which he had strangled himself.
They had called it entertainment.
He flexed his fingers now, watching them tremble with something other than fear or necessity, with choice. He had been given a choice, fall into mediocrity on this island, maybe find some people and become a fisher, like he had been all that time ago or become something that these 'gods' would learn to fear… was there really a choice? Even if he tried at a quiet life, as long as he had the hoof of the soaring dragon etched into his chest, he would never truly be free. Eventually they would find him and for that, he would be ready.
First though, he had to know where he was… he recalled they were somewhere in paradise but where exactly, he had no idea.
He turned slowly, feet sinking into damp sand.
Island as far as the eye could see, jagged cliffs rose like broken teeth behind him. Palm trees leaned in land. Beyond them stretched dense jungle, too green, too alive. It felt unreal after years of gray stone and iron bars.
Ru shaded his eyes and scanned the horizon.
No ships, no smoke, no flag bearing the hoof of a dragon, only the endless blue of the grand line, deceptively calm. He knew better than to trust it. The sea was a predator, pretending to nap. He had seen it.
His throat burned, salt had dried on his skin, crusted in his hair. He needed water, food, shelter.
Ru stepped toward the tree line. Each movement felt foreign, uncommanded. No overseer barked directions at him, no collar bit into his neck, no crowd roared for blood.
He pushed through broad leaves and hanging vines, muscles coiled. Every snapped twig made his pulse spike. Freedom was old, had it always been this loud? It left too many directions to be attacked from.
The jungle swallowed him quickly and just as fast, he found a fruit tree. His stomach growled and he stuffed bite after bite into his face. It was sweet, so incredibly sweet… until it wasn't. He had swallowed the rancid piece of fruit before the taste found his brain and it did taste horrible, even worse than the gruel he had been fed in the pit.
He looked down and took in the fruit closely. It wasn't rotten, it wasn't even a normal fruit at all. What he saw was an ice white fruit, with swirls around its surface, just a bit more colourful than was normal.
Ru knew what this was. He had heard legends, of men turning from frail to powerful with just one bite. He had never seen one before, they were supposed to be incredibly rare.
It seemed as though his good karma was manifesting.
After a few seconds, he felt power surge through his body, his muscles expanded, his vision grew sharper and the air around him dropped in temperature. As he approached a nearby pond to gaze upon his new form, it froze solid when he came close.
Ru saw himself, skin light blue and long hair, like strands of ice, with three eyes and small horns growing out of his head. He grinned and the grin looked inhuman, terrifying, with fang like teeth, as white as freshly fallen snow.