|| The Harbinger of Donquixote ||
A boy, no older than eleven, stumbled over the debris of the crumbling town he used to call home. His parents were dead, burned alive in front of the boy’s eyes.
Flames of burning gold colours ate away at the boy’s home. Smoke filled the air, blinding him. He had no one left, so he was fine if he died here, with his home, that he would never see again.
His childhood was taken from him. He was ‘special’. Forced to become a monster all because of one damn, terrible-tasting fruit. The Celestial Dragons that had taken over his home had fled, leaving the town in pure chaos. Pirates were attacking, and the villagers had nothing to fight back with.
They used to be feared warriors of a powerful, tyrannical Shichibukai, but when Yengin Kasai, one of the most brutal of all Celestial Dragons took over; he made them all slaves and took away their weapons.
The boy yelped as he tripped over a rock, falling to the ground. He threw his hands out in front of him, hoping to force his body to a stop, but instead the skin was torn from his palms, adding to the many wounds that already covered his body.
He rolled around before stopping just at the edge of a cliff that overlooked the sea. Blood coated his whole body, and his wounds had already begun to slowly kill him.
Accepting his fate, he looked down to the sea. The water had smoking debris floating in it, as well as many dead bodies. The boy knew that if he were to fall in, he would drown. He had lost his ability to swim six years ago, when the tyrannical Shichibukai made him eat a demonic fruit that would make him the ‘perfect soldier’.
He tried to make himself stand, only to have pain surge through his body. He let out a cry as the ground beneath him crumbled away, making him fall into the sea below.
His body hit the frozen, amber-coloured waters, and the boy smiled to himself as the bubbles fled from him. True, he couldn’t move, and the air had mostly been knocked from his lungs, but at least all the pain he suffered throughout his life would be gone. At least he could see his family again.
Before his eyes closed, the boy swore he saw someone appear above him. He couldn’t tell if it was a person, however, because the blackish-purple fuzzy thing they wore on their back made it hard to tell.
But the boy didn’t care. His smile only grew as he thought of seeing his father’s smile and being in his mother’s warm embrace crossed his mind again. As his world faded away, he failed to feel the pair of arms rap around his small, petite waist.
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Donquixote Rosinante didn’t know what crossed his mind when he saved that young boy’s life. He didn’t like what his brother, Donquixote Doflamingo, was doing to this town.
The undercover Marine read about this island from one of Sengoku’s old reports. Demounereach, Rosinante believed, used to be ruled over by a former Shichibukai who forced his people to become skilled warriors. Then, Yengin Kasai took over once the unnamed Shichibukai’s title was stripped away and he was executed.
Kasai wasn’t a good choice for the World Government to pick for who would rule this island when the Shichibukai was gone. Kasai was a powerful Celestial Dragon who was worldly renowned for his brutality when punishing his slaves.
Based on the large branded mark on the boy’s back, the Hoof of the Soaring Dragon, he probably experienced Kasai’s anger firsthand. Just thinking of what Kasai could’ve done made Rosinante bite down a little too hard on the fag in his mouth, effectively snapping it.
Rosinante sighed as he took out the remaining cigarette butt from his mouth, a small bit of smoke leaked from his lips as he turned to the boy.
Sopping wet, covered in many wounds. Rosinante wondered why the boy didn’t try to swim. He seemed to have the energy, but it was like the sea was preventing him from swimming.
Did he eat a Devil Fruit of some kind?
The blonde remember from Sengoku’s reports that the unnamed Shichibukai would make ‘special’ kids who met a certain set of requirements eat a Devil Fruit to make them unbeatable soldiers.
Could this boy be one of those kids?
The boy was curled in on himself, out cold. His wounds needed to be treated immediately, but Rosinante knew that he would need Doflamingo’s permission to bring the boy on his ship. Doflamingo was the Captain of the Donquixote Pirates, the group Rosinante was undercover in.
He had a charade of being mute, since he hardly talked after he witnessed Doflamingo kill their father. His own Devil Fruit, the Nagi Nagi no Mi, helped him with his charade. His personality had even changed to keep his secret.
He ‘hated’ kids, so how would Doflamingo react to Rosinante risking his life to save one?
With a heavy sigh, Rosinante pulled off his dark red hood and raked a hand through his wet, short blonde hair.
Why do difficult things always seem to land on my shoulders?
“Corazon,” a deep voice snapped Rosinante from his thoughts. He jumped a bit on the crate he sat on, that was on the shore of the island, as his head shot up to who called his alias.
Rosinante’s, or Corazon’s, reddish-brown eyes landed on a tall figure dressed in pink flamboyant clothes. They had light blonde hair, similar to Corazon. The wore a large, bright pink feather coat that hung from their shoulders.
Doflamingo, Corazon thought.
Doflamingo’s eyes narrowed at Corazon from under his pair of red, oddly framed sunglasses. Corazon nervously looked up at Doflamingo as Doflamingo’s head turned to the figure that was curled up beside Corazon.
“What is that?” Doflamingo asked, flicking a finger in the boy’s direction. Corazon looked at the boy again, noticing how his wet, raven-black hair stuck to his pale face.
The boy was only in a pair of black jeans and a torn, white, bloodstained tunic. The tunic’s rips were in the shapes of lashes from a whip, which would explain the blood and some of the boy’s wounds.
“Well?” Doflamingo pressured after not receiving an answer from Corazon. Corazon blinked back to reality as he scanned his coat for a sheet of paper. His feather coat matches Doflamingo’s, but instead of a bright pink colour it was a dark, blackish-purple.
Corazon scribbled a quick message onto the sheet: It’s a boy, Doflamingo read to himself, I found him like this. After Doflamingo finished reading, he settled his gaze on Corazon.
“Why are you wet?”
Corazon froze as he tried to think up an answer. “He probably tripped, Doffy-sama! You know how clumsy Cora-san is!” The drawling voice of Trebol, one of Doflamingo’s executive officers said.
Standing behind Doflamingo, was the hunchback form of Trebol. He wore a blue overcoat that hid his slim, deformed body as he leaned on his golden cane.
Doflamingo looked over his shoulder at Trebol before turning back to Corazon. “Is that true? Did you happen to trip?” Not wanting to explain a lie, Corazon quickly nodded.
Doflamingo let out a sigh. He looked at the boy again, now seeing the large branded scar on his back. Doflamingo’s lips curled into one of his signature, creepy smiles.
“Trebol, bring the boy aboard and get someone to treat his wounds. I wish to have a talk with him.” Doflamingo ordered.
“Yes, Doffy-sama!” Trebol replied as he walked up to the boy’s body. With zero caution, Trebol flung the boy over his shoulder and then left for the Donquixote Pirates’s ship.
Corazon glared at the fading form of Trebol as he hobbled away. He would’ve lashed out for him to be careful, but he was forced to swallow his pride. The mission was more important.
Doflamingo turned on his heel and began to walk in the same direction Trebol and the boy went. “Come, Corazon, we’re done here.” With one final, silent sigh, Corazon stood up and followed his ‘Captain’.
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The boy let out a pained groan as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He was confused at first, as he felt so light, yet also so down to the ground. Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?
His eyes adjusted to the light of the room he was in. When they did, his eyes widened in fear as he saw the ceiling of some building he wasn’t familiar with.
He shot up, immediately regretting his choice as pain surged in his abdomen, forcing him to lie back down on the bed he was seated upon.
He let out slow, and sharp, breaths as he tried to calm the throbbing pain in his gut. He realised as he was soothing the pain, that gauzes rapped around his body. Once the pain was somewhat bearable, the boy looked around the room.
He was in a stale, steel-coloured room, thought it was no hospital. There was sunlight slowly seeping in from a window, slightly blinding the boy.
Where am I? How did I get here?
“So, you’re up,” a voice rang through the room, immediately grabbing the boy’s attention. Finding the source, he noticed a figure seated in the corner of the room. He had odd red sunglasses and a large, bright pink, feather coat hanging from his back.
The boy’s pair of pale blue eyes settled in the frames of Doflamingo’s sunglasses. The boy was superstitious, and he had every right to be. “Y-Yeah,” the boy replied in a hoarse voice, “I-I am. W-Who are you? Where am I?”
Doflamingo smiled as he pressed his fingertips together. “Straight to the point, I see. Well, you do know it’s rude to ask for someone’s name without introducing yourself first, right?”
The boy’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you care for who I am?” He wondered, the tone of his voice retuning to normal. It was a dull tone, and one that sounded very mature for the boy’s young age.
Doflamingo noticed how the boy seemed to reach for something, which only made his smile grow.
“Looking for something?” Doflamingo questioned, pulling out a black throwing knife. The boy’s eyes widened at the blade. “My knife! You bastard!”
“Easy, Punk. I don’t want to fight.” Doflamingo said, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. The boy only glowered at Doflamingo. “Then what do you want?” He snapped.
Doflamingo’s smile returned. “What is your name? And why were you found washed up on a beach of Yengin Kasai’s island with the Hoof of the Soaring Dragon branded on your back?”
Hearing that name, the boy’s fists tightened, “Why should I trust you?”
Doflamingo sighed, “You’re not on that island anymore, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said, spinning the knife around his finger, “you’re in Spider Miles, a secluded base in the North Blue for the Donquixote Pirates. I’m their Captain, Donquixote Doflamingo.”
The boy’s eyes widened again. “Pirates?!” Doflamingo simply nodded as he gestured for the boy to answer his earlier questions. The boy took a breath. “I’m... Harbinger. Call me Harbinger.”
“Harbinger? I suppose that’s not your real name, is it?” Doflamingo inquired. Harbinger crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Only half. You don’t need to know my full name.”
Doflamingo snickered. “Fair enough, now answer me this, why were you found ashore?”
Harbinger looked away from Doflamingo. “I—” he was about to answer when a voice rang through his head.
Don’t tell anyone about those demonic powers of yours, you freak! You’re nothing more than my slave! Nobody will come to save you, no matter how hard you beg, because all you are is a damn worthless monster!
“I tripped, that’s all. And I guess I loss conciseness and fell into the ocean.” Harbinger answered after a while.
Doflamingo observed the boy before eventually settling on the fact he wasn’t going to get more of an answer than that. “Alright then, what do you plan to do next?”
Harbinger looked to Doflamingo. They stared at each other before Harbinger sighed. “What can I do? I’m nothing more than a monster trained to kill.” He replied back to Doflamingo.
Doflamingo stood up from his chair, showing his unnaturally tall height, and made his way over to Harbinger. “I have a proposition for you,” he began lowly, holding out Harbinger’s knife to him, “how about you join the crew? You’re one hell of a special kid, Punk.”
Harbinger watched Doflamingo cautiously as he reached for his weapon. “What do I get out of working for you?”
The tall man smirked devilishly. “You’ll see in time. Now, do we have a deal?” Doflamingo waved the knife in Harbinger’s face, as if silently telling him that if he wanted the blade back, he would have to work for him.
Harbinger thought on it. What did he have to lose? Why not become a pirate? There’s nothing left for a monster such as himself anyway.
“Fine,” Harbinger said, agreeing to Doflamingo's unmentioned terms, “I’ll join your damn pirate crew.”
Doflamingo’s devilish smile widened to a level Harbinger didn’t think was possible for a human being. “Splendid. Once you’re well enough, I’ll send you on your first mission.”
With that, Doflamingo left the room without another word. Harbinger stared at the door Doflamingo walked out of before his full eyes landed on the blade in his palm.
“What’s the worst that could happen...?”