SW - Chapter 2 - The Boy in the Wild (1) (Patreon)

(Word Count: 2,257)

On the other side of the kaleidoscopic portal, a young boy spilled out and face planted onto the ground with a loud “oof!”

Merlin got up and brushed himself off. Wait a second. He looked at himself in shock, examining his arms. He looked at his smooth young hands in wonder. How long has it been since they were anything but wrinkled, bony, and spotted with age? But more importantly, he was tiny! He was young again! From the looks of it, he must be a young child, no more than 8 years old. 

The rest of his body seemed to match that. He was dressed in simple shorts and a t-shirt, with some leather sandals. Not exactly fit for the outdoors. 

He looked around. Yeah, he was in some sort of jungle. This wasn't good. Not only did he have a lot of bare skin exposed to be scratched up by passing branches and bug bites, but he was now tiny and weak. Well, not that remaining an old man would have been better. Maybe worse, actually. Still, being a small child would make him tempting to any hungry predators.

And knowing he was in One Piece, those predators could get to the size of school buses. 

He needed to make a wand as soon as possible.

Actually, first order of business, climb a tree to see if he could spot civilization.

Merlin looked around at the nearby trees and chose the biggest looking one that still had low hanging branches. 

He braced himself to gingerly work his way up, but shocked himself with how easy it was to pull himself up. Right. He was young again! He laughed in delight and eagerly began climbing with gusto.

In no time at all, he was already up at the top of the tree. He didn't get the best view from this random tree, but he could see enough. He was definitely on an island. He could see the sea on the horizon, but it was far away. The island was huge.

To the right, on the coast, he could see smoke rising above the trees. He couldn't see the actual town due to the trees, but from the number of smoke columns rising up, he knew it was there.

The center of the island was covered in dense jungle, and it rose to a central mountain, also covered in jungle, with only a bit of bare stone at the peak. The mountain was just as far away as the coastline, making the island truly massive.

Merlin made his way back down to the ground and turned to head towards the town. It was far away, but judging from the sun's position, it was early morning. He should be able to make it before nightfall. 

He took his first step when he froze.

Should he head to the town?

Merlin thought of Luffy, Ace, and Sabo. They hunted for their food, and eventually became the de facto rulers of the forest animals on their island. That experience was what made them so strong.

Should he stay out here to train?

He looked longingly in the direction of the town. He wanted nothing more than to find a cozy café and read a book. But he couldn't. He needed to get stronger.

To make a wand, he needed a wand core. He couldn't use any old animal parts, so he couldn't just go to the town's butcher and ask for parts. It needed to be from an animal that had something special about it. An example of some animals that might work are those massive ones that are ten times larger than regular. The ancient dinosaurs on Little Garden might work as well. The millennium dragons would certainly work. The ones that might work the best are sea kings.

None of those creatures could be killed without some serious training.

Merlin stroked his beard—wait, he didn't have that anymore. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. No… he needed to train, yes. But not even Luffy spent all of his time in the woods. He also had the bandit home to fall back to when he needed to rest. In a similar way, he needed somewhere that he could rest without being in “survival” mode. Plus, he didn't want to forgo books and other creature comforts entirely.

He nodded in satisfaction to himself, decision made. He would continue on towards the town.

Although Merlin didn't know what exactly he could expect once he got there, he knew that the world of One Piece was a bit relaxed when it came to random kids. If he was lucky, he could claim some abandoned house as his own and nobody would care. If he was unlucky, then maybe this town had an actual orphanage. In which case, he would just periodically run away to train in the woods for a while and only come back when he needed to rest.

Either way, he could scrounge up some supplies that would make his life in the woods a lot easier, like a machete, twine, or rope, or actual outdoors clothes and boots for better protection.

Before he began his journey, Merlin turned eastward, towards the morning sun, and knelt down to press a hand into the soil. He took a deep breath in, and whispered a small prayer, acknowledging the land. “Grandfather Forest. I, Ambrosius Wylt D Merlin, seek safe passage through your woods.” Then he did the same thing two more times.

It was a combination of old superstitious tradition with Germanic and Slavic roots, meant to be done when starting a trip or traversing a forest. Addressing the forest directly as a host is meant to acknowledge the spirit(s) of the forest and hopefully show them the proper respect before entering their domain. Touching the ground was a similar practice, meant to both ask for passage and to ground oneself.

Facing East was a more Anglo-Saxon and Nordic tradition. Many charms were spoken facing the rising sun, since that meant renewal, divine favor, and/or protection.

And lastly, taking a deep breath and saying one's name three times before crossing a threshold was a Galdr/Nordic tradition meant to reinforce his identity. He wasn't crossing a threshold here, but Merlin felt it was still appropriate since he had just received his new name and it was the start of his new journey. A symbolic threshold, if you will.

He stood up, spun clockwise once, then took his first step forward with his right foot, chuckling cheerfully to himself.

Many old traditions emphasized starting one's journey with the right foot forward. Starting with the left foot would bring bad luck. And the Cunning Folk did the same by turning once and marking the body with a sigil to align oneself with the natural order.

None of those practices actually meant anything, of course, they were nothing more than old traditions born from superstition. But now that he actually had magic, who knew? Maybe his magic would make it mean something!

Merlin began through the dense brush in the direction of the town.

SW

The jungle humbled him within the hour.

Ambrosius Wyllt D Merlin had imagined “dense forest” in the abstract. He had lectured on woodland symbolism, on sacred groves, on the liminal threshold between civilization and wilderness. He had cited Tacitus and the poetic Edda and the Lacnunga. He had written entire chapters on how pre-Christian Northern Europeans conceptualized forest-space as spiritually charged. He had even ventured through some woodland to visit archeology sites before.

None of that prepared him for trying to walk through a jungle like this.

The air itself felt thick enough to drink. Humidity pressed against his lungs, warm and wet, every breath tasting of loam and crushed leaves. Within minutes sweat ran down his brow and into his eyes. His thin t-shirt clung to him. The leather sandals—which were absurdly inadequate. Honestly, why did that other Merlin give him these?—slipped on mud-slick roots.

He tried to push through a patch of broad-leafed undergrowth and immediately regretted it. The leaves were waxy and tough, vines tugged at his arms like grasping hands, and thorns snagged his clothes and refused to let go.

He tore free and stood there breathing hard.

He may be young and energetic again, but traversing through the thick undergrowth quickly sapped that strength.

“This,” he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow, “is why ancient hermits built clearings.”

He adjusted course once more, angling toward where he remembered the smoke columns rising above the canopy. Traversing the jungle wasn’t so simple as going in a straight line, as one would through a meadow. Every dozen steps or so, he was forced to detour around a fallen trunk as thick as a city bus, to find a safe way down—or up—a steep hill, or simply just around a patch of underbrush that was too thick to force his way through. Luckily, he always had a good sense of direction, and he was able to get back on track by looking at the angle of the light coming through the canopy.

He found a narrow animal trail at one point and followed it eagerly, grateful for the relative ease. It lasted perhaps five minutes before veering sharply away from the direction of the town.

He stood at the fork, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.

He looked up through the canopy. The sun had climbed high into the sky, meaning it was already midday. 

He had been here longer than he thought. He didn’t even know how far he had travelled, but it was starting to become clear to him that it would be impossible to make it all the way to town in one day. 

A prickle of unease ran through him as his situation was setting in. He was going to have to spend the night out here. He had no water container, no food, no knife, no proper footwear, and no shelter.

Knowing that he would have to spend the night camping, his priority changed. Instead of trying to make it as far as he could, he needed to find a good campground before it got too dark to see. Somewhere close to water, and maybe try to find something he could eat.

Just as he was pondering this, Merlin noticed something was wrong. He looked around for a moment, trying to place what was so off, before he realized what it was.

The forest was too quiet.

The constant droning of insects, bird calls, random noises from far off animals, it was all gone now like the forest was holding its breath for something bad to happen.

Merlin immediately crouched down to hide himself better in the underbrush. His eyes scanned the surroundings intensely for any movement.

He had read enough to know that when things got quiet like this, it meant a predator was close.

‘It can't be after me, can it?’ Merlin thought, cold sweat dripping down his back. ‘What am I thinking? Of course it is.’

Thinking back, he really hadn't taken any precaution in being quiet. It was no wonder he had yet to actually see any animals. They could hear him coming from a mile away.

Merlin gulped.

In the heavy silence, he could almost feel the weight of the unknown predator watching him.

He looked up.

And met the eyes of a large black panther perched above him in a tree just a few feet away.

It wasn't overly large like some seen in the One Piece story. It was just a normal panther. Yet, being a small child, it was still far too large. Merlin went through everything he had learned about predators in his mind. They were largely cowards, and didn't want to get injured because their survival hinges on being able to keep hunting. Running would only encourage it, making it think he was too weak to fight back.

The panther was watching him, calculating how to best eat him. He knew this because it was crouched low, not laying down lazily.

Maintaining eye contact, Merlin slowly stood back up and puffed himself up as large as he could… which wasn't very much.

The large cat seemed to almost be amused at his pathetic attempt.

‘I need to scare it! Magic! I could use some magic!’ He didn't necessarily need a magic wand, right? It just made magic easier to cast.

Merlin extended his hand to the beast and shouted loudly. “Incendio!”

Nothing. A flash of disappointment passed through him, before he corrected himself. He needed more than just the incantation. Of course it didn’t work.

He pictured fire sprouting out from his hands, “Incendio!”

Still nothing. His stomach sank with dread.

The panther lost its patience. It growled and leapt directly at him with a roar, its long claws extended out towards him. 

Merlin dove out to the side, luckily there wasn’t a bush there, and ran. “Leave me alone!” He cried out in terror. 

The panther landed surprisingly softly, and chased after him.

Branches whipped at him as he ran by, cutting at his arms and face, but he was too terrified to care. He could hear the panther crashing through the brush behind him.

His sandal slipped in a patch of mud, and he crashed to the ground. The panther roared victoriously, and he flipped over just in time to see the panther lunging at him.

“Stay away!” Merlin yelled in panic, reflexively extending his hands to shield himself.