Chapter 2

[Kaienreki Calender, Year 1507]

Bathed in radiant sunlight, the day exuded warmth and tranquility. The clear blue sky and gentle breeze created an idyllic atmosphere, infusing the tribe with a sense of joy and contentment.

A young boy, around 7 to 8 years old, dashed through the bustling streets of the tribe. His vibrant red baggy pants, adorned with intricate golden embroidery and jewelry, billowed around his legs as he ran. Like the other members of the tribe, his upper chest remained bare, proudly displaying the symbol that marked their allegiance.

A tattoo of a burning skull, encircled by crackling lightning, adorned his chest, symbolizing his connection to the tribe's dark and powerful beliefs.

With an infectious smile on his face, the boy cheerfully greeted those he passed, spreading joy and eliciting smiles in return. His youthful exuberance breathed life into the busy streets, lifting the spirits of all who encountered him.

Balancing a colossal, three-meter-long fish precariously atop his head, he sprinted toward the tallest and most prominent house at the heart of the tribe, his comical dash drawing laughter and amusement from onlookers.

"Mom! Mom! Look!" he shouted, excitement dancing in his young eyes.

His exclamation caught the attention of a beautiful middle-aged woman, adorned in a flowing yellow dress that accentuated her natural grace. Delicate jewelry adorned her, adding an enchanting charm to her already radiant beauty. She tucked a strand of silver-colored hair behind her ear, her gaze softening as she looked at her son.

"Did you venture to the turbulent hills again, Ravok?" she inquired, a mixture of anger and concern lacing her voice.

"Ah... well, I only went to the lookout cliff! I swear!" he exclaimed, attempting to conceal himself childishly behind the enormous fish he carried.

She released a deep breath, a sigh of both relief and exasperation. "What am I going to do with you," she muttered under her breath.

Her frown soon transformed into a proud smile as she enveloped her son in a tight embrace, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. "I know my little Ravok is the strongest," she whispered affectionately.

Her tone then grew more serious. "But don't venture into the turbulent hills anymore..."

"Can I at least go to the lookout cliff?" he pleaded, his eyes brimming with hopeful innocence.

"Fine, but just the lookout cliff," she conceded, her voice filled with a mix of caution and love.

"Now, come! Let's create something amazing for your father. He will be overjoyed when he returns," she declared, her pride evident in her words.

With surprising strength, she effortlessly lifted the cumbersome fish, defying expectations with her delicate frame.

Ravok eagerly followed his mother into the kitchen, determined to lend a hand and create something extraordinary for his father's homecoming.

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As the sun began its descent over the Thorn tribe, far from the island's shores, the open ocean churned with tumultuous waves. Towering walls of water encircled the island, as if the sea itself dared not approach its formidable boundaries. Amidst this tempestuous scene, a lone ship bravely sailed through the colossal waves, steadily making its way toward the island's shores.

Thick, dark clouds obscured the vibrant red hue of the setting sun, casting an ominous shadow over the ship's journey. A large, burly man raised a boisterous voice, his words punctuated by the clinking of his drink against a barrel of alcohol.

"Sihihihihi!! Today's sail was a good one! We've secured some fine materials!" he declared with a hearty laugh.

"Oi, Jaxon! Don't start drinking now!" another crew member called out, his tone filled with caution.

"Bah! We're almost there, ain't we? What does it matter? Let's enjoy!" Jaxon retorted, taking a swig of alcohol from the barrel.

Suddenly, a mighty wave crashed against the ship, causing it to shudder violently. Yet, the men aboard remained undeterred, their confidence unshaken. A muscular, tanned man took hold of the ship's rudder, his bulging muscles straining against the raging currents. With determination, he steered the ship towards the sheltered backside of the island.

"Peddlers!" a commanding voice bellowed from the captain's cabin.

The crew snapped to attention, some making their way to the lower deck, their movements swift and purposeful. Jaxon, who had been drinking moments ago, also ceased his revelry.

"Let's make landfall quickly. A fierce storm may be on the horizon!" the commanding voice urged.

"Yes, Chief!" the crew responded in unison.

The ship's deck became a flurry of activity as men scurried about with mesmerizing precision. Slowly but surely, the ship glided toward the sheltered bay beneath the towering cliffside.

As the dark clouds dispersed, a breathtaking mountain revealed itself, bathed in the warm orange glow of the setting sun. The ship docked beneath the majestic cliff, and the men eagerly began unloading the cargo. Among them, a towering figure standing easily at five meters tall leaped down, wearing a strikingly familiar red baggy pant reminiscent of Ravok's.

"Chief!" the crew greeted in unison.

"Rarararara!!" his boisterous laughter echoed through the silent mountainside.

"Let's celebrate!" he proclaimed, his voice filled with joy.

The cheers of the men mingled with his laughter, reverberating throughout the foothills and marking the arrival of their voyage's end.

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The Thorn tribe basked in the enchanting glow of the beautiful moon, which cast a mesmerizing white light upon their lively gathering. At the heart of the tribe, a massive campfire crackled and roared, its warm glow illuminating the jubilant faces of the people who drank, danced, and celebrated the triumphant return of the men from their voyage. The purpose of their journey was to sell the valuable mountain ore and acquire essential materials, as the Thorn tribe, established on a remote island in the Grand Line, remained isolated from the rest of the world.

Only the brave and strong men of the Thorn tribe dared to venture into the treacherous hills and return with their lives intact. Among the revelers, a towering man, standing at an impressive five meters, sat with a hefty wooden barrel of booze, effortlessly swinging it towards his mouth and consuming liters of the liquid in a single gulp. Beside him, a small child perched, appearing minuscule in comparison to his father's imposing stature. The child sipped a crimson-colored liquid from his much smaller glass, his face alight with joy as he shared laughter and cherished moments with his father.

Together, they savored the fish Ravok had caught and cooked with his mother, relishing the flavors of his bountiful catch.

Suddenly, Ravok, the young boy, shouted excitedly, breaking the rhythmic merriment of the gathering.

"Hey, Dad!" he called out.

"Hmm? What is it, my boy? Do you want a taste of my drink?" his father replied, gesturing towards the sizable barrel of alcohol.

"No, no," Ravok shook his head. "I want to know when you'll take me with you! Brother has already ventured into the outside world, and I also want to see what lies beyond this island!" he proclaimed, his little fists clenched with determination.

"Rarararara!" his father chuckled heartily. "You wish to come with me? Very well! When we set sail next time, you shall join me!" he declared, his eyes sparkling with pride.

A wide grin spread across Ravok's face, and he began dancing joyfully among the merry, intoxicated men. His father watched with a fond smile, his heart brimming with paternal affection. However, the smile soon faded as thoughts of his eldest son, Evander, crossed his mind.

Evander, just like his younger brother, had yearned to leave the island and explore the vast world beyond. He dreamt of embarking on grand adventures. Calder, Ravok's father, sighed heavily as he thought of him. When Evander turned eighteen, he had departed from the island, leaving behind his tribe and all those who held him dear. Three years later, Evander returned to the island, now a fully-fledged marine.

Calder's heart ached at the memory. How could Evander, after everything they believed in—the Thorn tribe, a tribe that revered power—submit himself to someone else's authority? In the eyes of their tribe, a man who bowed down to another ceased to be a true man. A man can bow to his family, to his friends, to the Gods above, but he shan't bow to anyone else.

Bitterness washed over Calder's mouth as he recollected that fateful day.

Yet, his frown gradually faded as he refocused his attention on his second son, Ravok, who embodied the spirit of the Thorn tribe and the indomitable will to pursue his dreams.

Ravok possessed a personality brimming with pride, never one to back down from a challenge and unwavering in his determination. He embodied the very essence of his tribe, displaying a resilience that refused to yield. Yet, alongside his unwavering spirit, he also inherited his mother's gentle nature, harboring a deep love for his family and friends. Within the Thorn tribe, he was a source of great pride, a symbol of their strength and unity.

Calder, observing his son's remarkable qualities, couldn't help but contemplate the possibilities that lay ahead.

"Perhaps" he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible above the festive atmosphere.

His gaze drifted towards the imposing mountain that stood majestically in the background, a silent witness to the tribe's trials and triumphs. A mysteries light shone in his eyes, reflecting the peak of the mountain, from which a small cloud of black smoke emerged ever so often.