Chapter Text
Legend has it that only one human has achieved immortality, a wizard from the extinct Kingdom of Dressrosa. No one knows his true appearance, as those who saw him are no longer among the living. To some, he was a tall, burly demon, hidden under a long red robe, revealing only his body disfigured by an ancient disease to those who owed him favors. To others, he was an old man with a long beard, carrying a wooden staff that served more as a support for his frail body. His deep knowledge of magic would have allowed him to defy Death.
The Surgeon of Death - this was his best-known name and also his most feared. They say, in fearful and uncertain whispers, that the magician won eternal life at the cost of the lives he took and the souls he stole from those he promised to help. He approached the sick offering healing only to take their miserable lives. He could take any form: a young man, an old man, a demon. But his golden eyes were the mark that distinguished him from ordinary mortals.
Evil tongues claim that he was responsible for the destruction of the Kingdom of Dressrosa, a land once filled with flowery fields, vibrant festivals and a happy, peaceful people. One day, everyone celebrated the changing of the seasons, the next, they mourned the war that had finally reached the kingdom. No one knows for sure what happened. Desperate cries echoed through the skies and the royal family itself turned on its people, slaughtering them without mercy. In just three days, few survived.
Those who escaped told stories of a young, tall wizard, bloodied from head to toe, his face unrecognizable, wielding a sword against the king. His golden eyes reflected murderous intent, and his magic enveloped them both in a dangerous aura. The king, however, just smiled, as if he had accepted his fate. There was no escape. On the fourth day, the unfortunate news spread. The king was dead. His head was displayed at the entrance to the palace for all the survivors to see. The Kingdom of Dressrosa ceased to exist, and the wizard disappeared without a trace.
His memory survives only in legends, in the stories told by parents, grandparents and generations past. Perhaps he got tired of taking lives. Perhaps the gods punished him with eternity. Or perhaps he never existed.
Well, Law knows that he definitely exists. Surgeon of Death, immortal wizard, son of the devil - those old names no longer matter. His story is now just the ashes of a distant past. Living in a small cabin on the left bank of the river, following a trail hidden behind a large fallen tree, the young - but old - wizard dedicates himself to gathering herbs for his next batch of ointments. Many elderly people in the village of Foosha have complained of body aches, and his ointments are known to relieve such ailments.
How did such a powerful magician end up in such a small village? Ah, that's a long and painful story. Maybe he'll share it one day? What I can tell you is that immortality can be exhausting. Add to that the demons of the past and a cruel, relentless mind that torments him on a daily basis. Living a life without much emotion, isolated in the forest and playing with simple spells has become his way of dealing with it all.
Although small, the village of Foosha is part of an ancient territory. Law felt the ancient magic that permeates this land the moment he set foot on it for the first time. The ground, the wind, the trees, the river and even the simple houses of the villagers emanated magic. An enchanting, free and dangerous magic, but one that did not threaten him.
That magic seemed to call out to Law, gently inviting him to make that place his home, to share his stories, even if not in words. Magic is never direct; it is felt and interpreted. Law is willing to listen to everything this land has to say and see everything it has to show, even if it takes years. After all, he has all the time in the world.
………
Collecting herbs during the summer was always difficult. Even for a wizard. Law never liked using magic for simple tasks that could be done manually. Apart from making everything monotonous, living for more than 300 years required at least some regular physical activity to keep the body in shape. But doing this under a sun hotter than hellfire, immersed in the stuffy forest air, dealing with the tired sounds and exhausting sweating of plants and animals, was torture.
Not that Law hated the heat. No. He had simply been born in a country with severe winters, where you needed layers and layers of clothing, an ever-burning fire and human warmth to keep you warm. His body would never really get used to the heat waves of naturally warm places. It would be easier if he could at least make it rain whenever the heat became unbearable. But weather magic was complex and exhausting. It was easier to endure the sun.
Cursing all the gods, but especially Nika, the sun god, for that infernal heat in one of the last weeks of summer, Law gathered his herbs and headed for the river. His body was sweaty and disgusting; a quick dive would do him good.
I bet Nika doesn't even realize how hot the sun can be for humans , thought Law, envying the god, since Nika probably didn't feel heat anyway.
This time he had to go deeper into the forest. With the end of summer some of his medicinal herbs were harder to find. Law wasted a lot of time trying to find any rosemary saplings. His luck was that his sense of direction was good, and he knew the forest relatively well. They were old friends, so he wouldn't get lost. The trees always showed the way.
Following the sound of the rubber trees, the wizard walked with difficulty between broken but not dry branches, which was strange. Healthy branches don't fall out of nowhere. The forest was strange. Everything seemed restless. Birds that didn't usually sing in the morning decided to grace him with their presence. Butterflies that would only be born in the next few days came out of their cocoons early. The wind, which always brought with it a sense of calm, seemed... anxious? Even the trees, so reluctant to be stirred up, seemed to be afraid of something.
No, it was different. The trees were euphoric. Unlike the other times, the rubber trees didn't guide him down the worn-out dirt track to the river, but down another path, towards the wettest part of the forest, where the mushrooms grew.
Law could have ignored it and gone back the way he had always come, but the way the forest talked to him at that moment, similar to when he had first arrived on that land, sparked his curiosity.
Strange. Some stupid animal must have gotten lost on this trail. Many of the mushrooms were bitten, pulled out with a certain brutality. Even some that were hallucinogenic and poisonous. Perhaps the forest was guiding him to this animal, so that Law could help it if it was still alive, or purify it if it was dead.
But what kind of animal would it be? There were no quadruped footprints, and the bites on the mushrooms didn't seem to be from birds or rodents. There weren't any insects big enough for that either, at least not in that forest. Maybe some species that Law hasn't seen there yet. Yes, that would be it.
The wind stopped. Law felt the air burning his lungs. The forest was burning, as if on fire, although there was no fire anywhere. Not even the sun's rays could penetrate through the dense canopy in that part of the forest. So why did Law feel like he was being boiled alive in a pot?
With difficulty, he continued walking. His rapid, erratic breathing suggested that he might faint at any moment. For the first time, he couldn't hear anything, as if the forest was paralyzed, waiting for something. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and his mind was on alert, sensing danger, he regretted not having brought Kikoku with him.
Magic, however, told him otherwise, there was no reason to fear.
He decided to trust.
What Law found surprised him. If he was expecting an animal, he was wrong. Well, partially. Lying face down on the ground, surrounded by countless different mushrooms, was a man with black hair and brown skin similar to his own. Despite his youthful features, there was a scar on his left cheek, just below his eye. He was wearing simple clothes: blue shorts and a long-sleeved red shirt with gold buttons, as well as slippers on his feet. Next to him on the floor was an old, patched straw hat decorated with a red band.
Law approached carefully, expecting some kind of reaction. Nothing. The person seemed to be asleep, but his features were pained. In his hands was a brown mushroom that had been bitten in half, a funeral bell, a poisonous mushroom.
This person was an imbecile. Who in their right mind would go around eating every mushroom they saw? Of course, the funeral bell didn't have vibrant colors like the fly swatter (a red mushroom), so it could easily be mistaken for an edible mushroom. Still, he didn't just eat that mushroom apparently, but it was certainly the last one.
An idiot , thought Law, pondering what to do with the man in front of him.
Well, if the forest had led him there, it must have been to help. Some assholes didn't deserve to die for eating poisonous mushrooms, right?
Wrong. Just thinking about all the work that went into removing the mushroom toxins from that idiot's body made Law want to strangle him with his bare hands. At the very least, it would take an entire night's work, time he could have been using to tend to his herbs, read a book or sleep. For Nika's sake, how could he be so unlucky?
Well, first of all, he needed to check if the man was still alive. If he was lucky, he wouldn't be, and his only job would be to bury the body, something he could do in five minutes with magic, after studying it, of course. It wasn't every day that a corpse fell so easily into the lap of a doctor like Law.
Don't misunderstand. Law wasn't a cannibal or anything like that nor did he collect corpses. It was just curiosity. Besides, a doctor needs to know exactly how the human body works and there's nothing better than learning from a real one.
Anyway, back to the problem. Checking for death. Or life. Whatever!
Law moved closer to the body, still fearful. Even in a faint that person emanated insane vital energy. Law decided to check his pulse just to make sure.
When he touched the man's wrist, Law got another surprise. His body was hot. As hot as the forest, maybe even hotter. Law felt that if he touched him any longer his fingers would be burned.
Gods, what a complication! Well, the man's pulse was there, although his heart was weak and his temperature was high. Law just needed to take him home without touching him directly. He didn't understand what was happening but everything about this person was abnormal. The sooner it was treated, the better.
Law decided it would be best to make the body float.
With his right hand extended towards the man, Law concentrated, searching his memory for levitation magic. Under his robes on his left rib, one of his tattoos glowed gold as did his eyes. Law muttered the incantation as if it were a prayer heard only by him and his surroundings.
“Hear my call, earthbound soul. Free yourself from its laws, fly.”
It was instantaneous. At the last sound of Law's soft voice, the man's body moved and began to float in the air, horizontal to the ground, still unconscious.
Feeling almost all his energy drain from having used magic when his body was already begging for rest, Law picked up the straw hat and his basket of herbs to return. With a simple command, he ordered the man's body to follow him through the forest. This time, in the direction of his house.