It was the second morning.
Zoro had arisen early and Kael, having heard him stir among the tents, had not come down from his perch on the top of the cliff.
Instead, he had stayed high on the cliff and opened his Sage Mode, listening to the waking world around him.
Zoro had appeared sometime after the sun rose alone and bare, with only his Wado Ichimonji and not the others with him.
Zoro reached the top of the cliff and stopped.
Kael did not turn around.
He was sitting cross-legged on the warm rock with his palms resting on his knees; nine Truth-Seeking Orbs circled around him slowly, sometimes taking up residence above each of his shoulder joints.
He sensed Zoro behind him.
He could feel the presence there—the not-anger, the not-suspicion, not the aggression either but the pure force of a man who means to find an answer.
“Go ahead.”
Zoro drew Wado.
The slash came faster than most men could draw their swords—the average foe would probably be on the ground before he realized what happened.
But even while Zoro was swinging, the orb reacted, even as Wado sliced through the one closest to Kael’s left shoulder joint.
The slash became nothing.
Wado completed its arc and stopped where it was—sharp-edged, bright steel—and the orb circled, as though nothing happened.
The arc of power Zoro put into the slash—the power in his shoulders, in his arms, his wrist, the pure intention of attack—had vanished the instant the blade touched the orb.
The orb did not deflect, it did not absorb; it nullified everything it touched.
Zoro stood there in silence, his sword held out.
Kael watched him from the side of his eye without speaking.
Zoro lowered his sword.
He studied it, then the orb.
He sat down next to the spot he had just stood at, placed the saya of his sword across his knees and rested both his hands on it.
He stared out over the ocean.
Kael left him alone.
The wind blew over them, carrying with it the salty smell of the sea, the first breeze of the day from the south, and the gulls went crazy over the bay.
The orb Zoro had slashed at but that had not felt the blade continued its slow circle around Kael.
After a long moment, Zoro said, “What is it.”
“Truth-Seeking Orb.”
“Meaning.”
“It nullifies everything it touches.”
“And I have found it does nullify everything.”
Zoro processed this.
He flipped his blade, looked at the sharp edge of it carefully—pristine, sharp and unmarked—and placed the blade across his knees.
“You weren’t worried I might hit you.”
“I wasn’t worried you might hit the orb in the way that worries you.
I was worried you would get discouraged.”
“By what.”
“Finding out you can’t.”
Zoro made a noise that sounded somewhat like a snicker—that sound a man made after being told something that isn’t flattering but is true enough not to deny it.
“You think I am discouraged.”
“I think you are thinking.”
Silence.
Kael allowed it; he had been in this state before and knew well how to handle silence in it.
When Zoro spoke again, his voice had changed.
He had transitioned from the sharp and purposeful tone to a more relaxed tone; that tone of a man who is done with a mission and found the answer.
“I am going to be the world’s greatest swordsman.”
Kael nodded.
That seemed to be all he needed.
“You knew that.”
“I felt it.”
“You felt it like you felt the wind.”
“Different.
You felt the wind in the air.
Your intent is in your bones.”
Zoro finally turned to look at him directly.
His eyes passed over Kael’s face, his robe, his posture—and his gaze landed on the Truth-Seeking Orbs before moving to his eyes.
The young man squinted his eyes slightly as he did this.
“Your eyes are different in this state.”
“Tell me.”
“Like a sage.”
“That’s the term for it.”
Kael nodded again.
He sheathed his sword, got to his feet—he was finishing something—and stretched his shoulders.
He glanced at Zoro again and gave him a sidelong glance.
“You aren’t going to become a problem.”
“Good.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
Kael allowed his Sage Mode to expand again; it brought into focus the wind, the gulls, the bay and the scene below—Nami already up and poring over her charts, Sanji making breakfast, Luffy asleep, still twisted into some uncomfortable position and Usopp murmuring incoherent words into his dreams.
Zoro descended the cliff.
Kael sensed him move from the camp to the beach and assumed he would do whatever it is Zoro does to clear his thoughts after a new bit of information was presented.
Kael allowed the new information to process itself within his mind; the orb had nullified his slash.
Kael expected it to.
More importantly, Zoro had responded to his test of himself as a man willing to accept ugly truths without flinching.
Such men are not common.
High atop the cliff, Kael felt himself ready for what comes in the months ahead.
Kael came down from the cliff a while later, once the sun had cleared the cliff’s peak.
Sanji, having cooked something magnificent out of a mere three bitter fruits and a fish Usopp caught this morning, had set his plates down and Nami had pulled her fingers from her maps and was looking at him.
“It was right.”
“What was?”
“The wind readings from yesterday.
They were right.
Everything.”
“Mhm.”
“I want the rest.”
“All of it?”
“Yes,” she said steadily.
Kael sat across the log that Sanji dragged up here for a makeshift table and allowed his Sage Mode to stabilize.
Bay, channel, atmosphere, deeper waters—a few weeks ahead of us and farther.
“Let me tell you what I see.”
And he started talking while she was writing.
Down below, Luffy woke up—the uncoiling of his limbs that was neither normal nor fully human—and Sanji was serving breakfast.
Usopp started telling some story he had invented, while Zoro, down on the beach, went through his usual morning practice routine.