Once they’d left the park, Karl followed his guards, who worked to forge a path through the central square. The crowds were thicker now, only starting to dwindle the closer they got to their waiting carriage. This, of course, was thanks to the guards they’d left behind, who had set a perimeter around it.
They stopped in front of the carriage, their guards joining the perimeter.
“Milord, where would you be going next?” The carriage driver had taken off his hat and pressed it firmly against his chest.
Karl looked back at his wife and daughter. “Any ideas?” he asked.
His daughter shrugged, then continued looking around the bustling square with those curious eyes of hers. Jane smiled and shook her head. “We have no plans for now, good sir. Do you have any recommendations?”
The driver hummed to himself as he thought. “Is this your first time in the capital?”
Karl nodded, wondering what the driver would recommend.
“Well, apart from the royal palace, the next best thing to visit would be the gallery,” he said, gesturing towards where Karl supposed the gallery was.
“The Imperial Briss Gallery?” he asked, trying to clarify.
“Yes, that’s the one,” said the man. “Just across the square over there.” He pointed towards a large Greek-styled building that Karl had noticed as they’d entered the square. “It’s not too far from here; it’d probably take longer by carriage than just walking.”
“Of course,” Karl responded. “We’ll be back in an hour or two if that’s okay?”
“That will not be a problem, milord.” The driver nodded and then settled back on his chair, retrieving a large leather-bound book from a pouch at his side.
Karl turned back. “Well, to the gallery we go.” The guards rushed forward to make a path for them.
Elisa skipped forward. “We’re off to see the gall-ery, the wonderful gallery of Briss!” she sang.
Karl couldn’t help but chuckle at his cute little angel; he wasn’t surprised she’d remembered the catchy little tune he’d sung for her on the ship on the way here. How he wished he’d brought a guitar on their trip—he would’ve had the whole crew singing along to the song before they reached the capital.
As they approached the gallery, the crowd grew even thicker, the guards visibly struggling to clear a path, slowing them to a crawl.
“I get why the driver didn’t want to take us here,” Karl shouted over the masses.
He reached out and grabbed his daughter’s hand. Even with the guards always keeping a watchful eye, Karl wanted to keep her close.
“Understandable,” she said, squeezing in close to him so that her voice was right next to his ear. Karl smiled and wrapped an arm around her. With the guards clearing their path, they had no need to be so close, but he would keep her secret—she felt much too comfortable in the crook of his arm.
The gates leading into the patio of the gallery were wide open, inviting the mass of visitors toward the Greek temple-like entrance. The neoclassical façade loomed large before them, tall fluted columns holding up a grandiose pediment adorned with sculptures of mythological figures frozen in stone. Karl could easily tell which visitors were here for the first time by their awestruck expressions, mirrored by his wife and daughter. Even the guards around him had similar expressions, and Karl had to admit it was an impressive building.
They followed the flow of traffic, climbing up a set of stairs polished smooth by decades, maybe even centuries, of eager feet. Once under the grand portico, they were greeted by a pair of large iron gates that had been swung open to reveal a vast hall filled with light that filtered in from a webbed canopy of glass that stretched across the ceiling. The geometric panes casting slender shadows over the polished stone floor. The crowd quieted as they entered, walking past pillars and archways with nooks and alcoves holding statues that stood guard like silent sentinels.
“A good recommendation, huh?” Karl whispered to his wife.
Jane simply nodded, struck mute by the beauty of the building. With slow steps, Karl led the group toward the domed edifice at the heart of the hall, an inscription reading “Reception” above its entrance.
Entering, Karl was greeted by a smiling receptionist, her blond hair pinned up in an elegant updo. “How may I be of service, sir?”
“We would like to book a personal tour, lasting no more than an hour,” Karl said, glancing back at his wife to see if that was okay.
“Of course, sir. May I have your name?” The receptionist pulled out the quill resting on a nib to the side.
“Karl Brooks,” he said, taking out his wallet to hand over his golden bank card.
The receptionist froze, eyes widening, silently mouthing his name. Then she gulped and abruptly stood up. “Mister Brooks, if I could ask you to wait a few moments.” She gestured toward the couches behind them before rushing off, glancing back to make sure they were taking a seat.
Karl and Jane exchanged wary glances but settled in, waiting patiently as their daughter bounced in place on her seat. Moments later, an attendant approached with a deep, respectful bow. “Would you care for any refreshments, sir, lady?”
Karl shook his head as Jane responded with a gentle smile. “No, thank you.”
A tall man sporting a long white beard that reached down to his navel and a long dark green robe stepped out from one of the back rooms, his robe dragging behind him, with the receptionist following.
“Karl Brooks!” he called, stepping forward and offering a wrinkled hand. Karl clasped it firmly. “The name’s Hugo,” said the man, vigorously shaking his hand. “Hugo Birch. It’s a pleasure to meet a man of such renown.”
He turned to Jane, adjusting the round glasses perched on his nose. “And you must be his lovely wife, Jane Brooks?”
Jane offered her hand, which the older gentleman took, touching her knuckles with his lips.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” he said, then looked down at Elisa, who had been hiding behind Jane’s dress. “And you as well, little lady.”
She perked up at the compliment and peeked out from behind Jane’s dress, giving the old man a hesitant smile.
“What a treasure,” he said, voice tapering out as he turned back to Karl. “Well, there’s no time like the present.” He clapped his hands. “Allow me to act as your guide through our gallery for the duration of your stay.” He gestured with a grand sweeping motion that made his robes billow.
“In these halls of knowledge, a greater guide you will not find.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“We would love to have you as our guide, Mister Birch,” said Jane, and Hugo smiled brightly, revealing teeth covered in a tar-like substance.
“Well then, follow me.” He turned and strode down the reception hall.
Instead of returning to the main entrance, Hugo led them to the back and down a long hallway, the flickering light from torches hanging from the walls reflecting off suits of armour lining their path. The armour, curiously, reminded Karl of those worn by European knights in his old world.
“These suits of armour,” said Hugo, voice dripping with pride, “are relics dating back to just after the Void Century.”
“Bullets can easily tear through armour; why would our ancestors wear such burdens?” asked Jane.
Hugo nodded, as if expecting the question. “Well, you see, guns were not as common then as they are now.” He looked back, revelling in their bewildered expressions. “After the Void Century, guns became luxurious commodities, and men fought with blades and bows more than they did with precious bullets.”
They finally stepped out of the hallway and emerged into another vast hall, the low buzz of conversation filling it as scholars and visitors mingled at the edges. A colossal skull hung from cords attached to the ceiling, its fearsome jaws frozen mid-roar, with teeth sharp enough to gleam in the soft golden light cast from the luminescent moss that clung to the pillars evenly interspaced along the hall.
"It was the golden age of swordmasters," continued Hugo, never stopping his stride as he led them down the hall, "never before had so many held the handle of a sword."
The group trailed behind Hugo as they approached the glass cases that lined the walls, each case housing artefacts carefully placed under the golden glow of the lights from the pillars. Karl’s gaze skimmed over the worn relics and rusted weapons. Hugo’s voice, smooth and practised, echoed in the small corner of the hall which their group had claimed.
"Here we have relics that once were personally owned by notorious pirates that sailed the South Blue." He gestured towards a display housing a set of earrings, both made of gleaming silver and each holding a black pearl at its centre. The dark surface was cradled by delicate silver tendrils, each twist and curl sparkling with tiny aquamarine gemstones. "These earrings were once worn by pirate queen Rhea Clearshade. Legend says that she would wear these exact earrings to bring her luck in battle."
Karl drifted towards the case, glancing at Jane’s mesmerised expression from the corner of his eye, and leaned in, breath fogging the glass. Hugo had already moved on, footsteps soft against the marble floor.
"The blade here," he continued, tapping the glass, "was the personal blade of Silver Fang." Hugo looked Karl in the eye. "The pirate has been forgotten to time, his name struck from history," he gestured toward the glass cases deeper down the hall. "All those relics with no description, like this one," he pointed at the sword, "were once owned by pirates whose legends became too dangerous for the World Government, so they were erased."
"Then how do you know?" Karl couldn't help but ask.
"Well, young man," Hugo turned to face him squarely, "that’s because I am an Imperial Treasurer."
If Hugo had been expecting shocked faces, he was sorely disappointed. All he saw reflected in their eyes was confusion. He sighed, a tired sigh.
"We Imperial Treasurers are the guardians of forgotten history." Hugo looked into the distance, his melancholic eyes fixed on some invisible point. "We pass down the history that cannot be written down by word of mouth."
Karl took a step back and positioned himself between his family and the man. His guards bristling only a moment later as they understood the implications.
"Why are you telling me this?" His guards moved to surround them protectively. "Are you out of your mind? We want no part in this!" Karl whisper-shouted. "This is going directly against the World Government!"
Hugo gave him a sad smile. "I offer a trade," he said and gestured towards a door set between two glass cases. "A favour for knowledge."
Instead of lashing out, Karl took a moment to think.
"Depends on the favour," he finally said, "and the knowledge."
Hugo’s expression noticeably cheered up at being given the chance to present his case. He walked forward, the guards eyeing him warily as Karl allowed him to pass through with an imperceptible nod. Hugo leaned forward once he was close enough and whispered in his ear.
"I can grant you two very interesting little tidbits of knowledge relating to secrets from before the Void Century."
Karl was tempted, very tempted. Who wouldn’t be when given the chance to know grand secrets? But there had to be a catch.
"What would the favour be?" he asked.
Hugo stepped back with an even wider smile.
"To allow me to go with you to the auction, and to buy me one of the items I indicate," he said, "just that, and we are even."
Karl didn’t have to think; he had more than enough berries than he knew what to do with. He struck out his hand.
"Deal," he said, and they shook on it.
Hugo turned and walked towards the door he had previously pointed out.
"Follow me then," he said, then he looked back, "but only you, young man." He looked at the tense guards and at the silently frowning Jane. "We will be gone for only ten minutes or so, maybe less."
Hugo pulled out a faintly rusted key and unlocked the unmarked door. It swung open on well-oiled hinges, revealing a steep staircase that led down into darkness.
"Watch your step," he said, pulling out a lantern that had been resting in a nook to the side. Lighting it with a match, he held it forward as he made his way down. Karl followed closely, feeling the walls press closer as the staircase narrowed. The air grew cooler with each step, thick with the musty scent of stone and something else–something older.
At the bottom of the staircase, a cavernous room unfolded before him. Sparse patches of the same luminescent moss that lit the hall above clung to the corners of the room. Glass cases had been placed along the centre, all surrounding the single pillar that held up the ceiling.
"Well," Hugo gestured towards the cases with a mirthless smile, "pick your poison. I’ll tell you the secrets related to only two of the artefacts."
Karl approached the cases, the one closest to him housing the jagged shard of some kind of plate painted with strange, twisting symbols. He turned to the case next to it, catching sight of an unfurled scroll, aged and yellowed with time. A map had been inked on its surface, depicting a large island–no, a continent–with handwritten annotations artfully drawn in clear, elegant script.
Karl leaned in closer to study it, and his breath hitched as he read the words.
"Briss," he gasped, "why does it say Briss on the title of the map?"
"Imperium’ev Briss," said Hugo, and Karl jumped, glaring at Hugo, who had snuck up behind him.
"It means ‘Empire of Briss,’" Hugo continued, walking up to stand beside him. "Before the Void Century," he said, looking down at the piece of parchment, "the sea level was far lower than it is now. So low, in fact, that the islands were so large they were called by a different term, ‘continents.’ The Empire of Briss, from which our kingdom is descended, ruled this entire continent." Hugo pointed at the map. "Here is our capital," he said, "not the true capital of course, that one is deep down in the depths of the sea. This was merely a village in those times." Hugo looked up at Karl, giving him a long, unreadable look. "Have you ever wondered why our capital has no name or is simply written as ‘Briss’ on the maps?"
Karl shook his head.
"It’s because the name our founder gave it during the Void Century started with ‘D,’" Hugo pierced him with his gaze. "He named it after someone, someone the victors of the Void Century did all they could to erase."
A shiver ran down Karl’s spine. ‘The will of D,’ he thought, and suddenly realised how quiet it was down here–like the shadows themselves were waiting, listening.
Hugo turned. "One more secret," he said, and gave him some space.
Karl rounded the pillar, looking into the glass cases to find all kinds of bizarre artefacts, from a massive desiccated book, its leather cover blackened with age, to a pair of tarnished masks that seemed to follow him with their hollow eyes. Karl revolved around the pillar once, then twice, as he struggled to pick his next secret, until he finally stopped before a pair of unnaturally round stones. It was the only relic that seemed slightly out of place, and he was curious.
"This one," he said. "Tell me the secret."
“These are a pair of fossilised eggs,” said Hugo as he walked up, his gaze intent. He pointed to the one on the right. “A dragon,” he said softly, “and the other, a gryphon.”
He paused, letting his words linger in the stillness.
“This secret is quite a simple one,” he continued. “Dragons, gryphons, manticores, hydras—all these mythical creatures are not natural.”
A smirk crept onto his face. “They were designed. Designed long ago by a devil fruit user.”
He chuckled, the sound echoing faintly. “What a waste of a secret, huh?”
Turning, he strode back toward the entrance of the chamber, still chuckling to himself.
Karl did not follow; the implications of what Hugo had inadvertently told him were finally dawning on him.
He must not have been the only person reborn into the world of One Piece. Long ago, another reincarnator like himself must have decided to recreate creatures from Earth’s mythology. If there was another like him, who’s to say there weren’t many more?