New World, Seth Island.
Seth Island was prosperous, its spring-like climate making it a year-round resort in the New World. Tourists filled the markets, vendors hawked sweets and trinkets, and every street smelled of fresh bread and sea breeze.
Teach wandered through it all with nothing but time to kill. Fifteen days had passed since he'd left White Sand Island, and along the way he had stopped at Jewel Island, Grant Island, Cool Cool Island, and Yellow Rock Island.
Jewel Island glimmered with gems and chaos.
No ruler, only countless pirate gangs and underground forces. At night the streets turned into battlegrounds; even taverns barred their doors.
Teach stayed low, picked up an emerald skull bracelet that glowed faintly under the moon, and moved on.
Grant Island belonged to the plants. Flesh-eating vines, venomous insects, forests thick with predators long extinct elsewhere. A paradise for herbalists and a graveyard for the careless.
Teach gathered what knowledge he could, then left.
Cool Cool Island boiled with lava, the air thick with heat. Fire scorpions and lizards thrived there, while a precarious town clung to raised, insulated platforms at the island's edge. No one dared claim it as it was too vital as a hub connecting five other islands.
Yellow Rock Island was simpler; one great pirate with a 700 million bounty ruled it outright, his coffers filled with mineral exports.
Now, here in the comfort of Sykes Island, Teach strolled like any other traveler.
"Hey, handsome, want to try some fresh desserts?" A girl in a neat blue headscarf waved from the door of a bakery, her eyes bright when they caught Teach.
"Zehahaha! I'm no dessert man. But if you've got cherry pie, I won't hold back with my Berries."
Her smile widened. "Cherry pie? Of course! Sweet or savory?"
"Two of each. Let me see what your pies are worth." Teach slid into a window seat, tucking a napkin into his shirt like a noble preparing for a feast. Cherry pie was sacred to him.
He remembered another island where a crooked shop cut corners, served garbage at premium prices, and bullied customers. He'd smashed the entire place to rubble and by sunrise, the syndicate behind it had been butchered, corpses twisted in terror.
So yes, cherry pie mattered.
The girl soon arrived with four steaming pies. "Try it...tell me what you think!" She leaned forward, chin in her hands, eyes gleaming with expectation.
She had long brown hair, a delicate face, and the sunny warmth of youth.
Teach grabbed one pie with a gloved hand and bit in. His eyes lit up. "Mmm! Now this is pie! Zehahaha, I'm happy today!" He devoured it in great gulps, leaving nothing but crumbs.
Her smile curved like a crescent moon. His joy was the best praise she could hope for.
"Savory crust, sour cherries… would be perfect with black tea."
"Here!" She hurriedly poured him a steaming bowl.
Just then, a woman in a floral dress emerged from the kitchen with a tray. "Annie, help me serve these. We're swamped!"
"Okay, Mom!" Annie leapt up, apologizing to Teach before running off.
Teach grinned and tucked into the rest of the pies. When Annie passed by again, he called, "Annie, thirty more. Fifteen sweet, fifteen savory."
She blinked in surprise at hearing her name, then brightened. "Thirty?! Alright!"
A short while later she returned with ten first. "Eat these, Mom's finishing the rest."
"Zehaha, no rush. Cherry pie deserves patience."
By the time the full order arrived, Annie plopped down across from him, stretching and wiping her brow. "Whew! Finally. Oh, wait, I never asked your name." Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
"Zehaha! Annie, is your guard really that low? Chatting with strangers, never asking who they are? What if I were a trafficker after little girls like you?" He flashed a wicked grin, making her flinch.
But then she puffed her cheeks and snapped back, "Hmph! You won't fool me. You're not that kind of man."
Teach's grin softened. "Name's Marshall D. Teach. Not famous yet but one day the seas will know it."
"Teach… I'll call you that, then. You're a pirate, right?"
"Aye."
"Crew? Ship?"
"Neither."
She frowned, then shrugged it off. "It's hard, I know. Companions you can trust, a ship that can cross the seas. That doesn't happen overnight."
Teach nodded and kept eating, amused by her earnestness.
Her eyes lit suddenly. "But you're going to set sail, right? Then you should name your crew now! And your ship! I'm good at names—want me to try?"
Teach chuckled. "Go ahead."
"How about the Satan Pirates! Or the Demon Sword Pirates! Or—wait—the Blood Claw Pirates!" She leaned in like she'd cracked a secret code.
Teach groaned. "Annie! Do I really look that evil? What's with all the 'demon' and 'blood'?"
"Because it's cool! Pirates should sound terrifying!"
Teach waved her off. "Names don't scare people. Strength does. Reputation forged in blood and victories that's what terrifies." His tone was firm, and even Annie, flighty as she was, felt the weight of it.
"…Then what's your crew's name?" she asked.
Teach's gaze turned inward, past the candlelight, past even the busy shop around them. "The Nightfall Pirates."
Lonely nights, endless training, the curse of sleeplessness, years of darkness that only he had endured. A blonde woman's face—Monica—flitted across his memory, the one who had once lifted him from despair.
Darkness had been his enemy. Now it was his ally.
He smiled, calm and sure. "That name's already decided. When the time comes, the world will know it."
Annie tilted her head, sensing the depth in his words though she couldn't quite understand. Her smile returned, bright as ever. "Then I'll remember it. Nightfall Pirates. Sounds… powerful."
Teach finished the last of his pies, savoring the sweet aftertaste.
Darkness waits, but he would not.