Miraj Amatya
Gol D Brex stood in silence, watching the weird, muddy footprints lead up to the grand entrance of what he presumed was the last ancient city. His heartbeat quickened, and his childhood memories welled up in mind: the instances when he would peer out at starry skies that pointed toward far horizons and proclaim in the wildest of ambitions, "One day, I wanna be king of hunters, and I'll find the last ancient city." The dream had never really left him, even as the world changed and one by one, all the ancient cities were found. The once-vibrant society of treasure hunters now declined, and soon they were labeled as criminals by the United World Government. The whispers would not die, however-a myth about one ancient city possessing the greatest treasure in the world, well hidden from all. That myth had been Brex's guiding light-to be out with his closest friend, Platinum Rayleigh-on this impossible journey.
Treasure hunting had become a forbidden art. Few would actually dare defy the world government, but Gol D Brex and platinum Rayleigh were a different story altogether. The curiosity, the thirst for adventure, lured them into the unknown. The moment they set sail, outlawed, hunted by the government wherever they were. Every lead they followed, every ancient ruin they uncovered, brought the military closer. Yet they did, always one step ahead of capture after capture, impelled by the unshakeable belief that the best treasure was yet to come.
Years of close calls and near-misses went by in that search, but the determination never faltered. They found clues in texts forgotten by time, deciphered riddles in languages long lost, even crossed treacherous lands few had ever set foot upon. With every step closer to the treasure, it felt like moving further away from the world they used to know.
It happened on one fateful night under a moonless sky. Brex and Rayleigh were at their most exhausted point, but neither showed even a single sign of yielding. That was when they came upon the ancient map-an old tattered relic from times long forgotten, pointing to a place spoken about only in legend: the Whispering Caves. According to that map, deep inside those caves lay the final clue to finding the last ancient city. To the two, it was a sign, ushering them on their final journey with renewed hope.
The Whispering Caves were a thing of shadow and secrecy, and going down into the darkness weighed heavily upon them. Brex felt the weight of the world's eyes upon him, though he was far from any place that was called civilization. He could tell the government forces were closing in, but he didn't have a choice. The treasure was close.
Brex and Rayleigh had been cornered deep inside the cave. The military finally knew their whereabouts; fully armed soldiers were standing at the entrance of the cave. There was no way out. Always more strategic than the other, Rayleigh realized the danger first. Without hesitation, he grabbed Brex by the shoulder and whispered, "I'll buy you time."
Before Brex could get a word of protest out, Rayleigh was in motion: stepping from behind the shadows, into the line of fire. He stood proudly and tall, facing the armed soldiers, his voice firm as he yelled, "You'll have to go through me if you want him! " There was a slight hesitation before the sound of gunfire filled the cave. Rayleigh fought nobly, but he was outnumbered and outgunned.
As he fell, mortally wounded, he began stumbling back toward Brex.
Bleeding and battered, Rayleigh slumped next to his friend. He spoke now in hardly more than a whisper as he said, "Hey, do you remember that legend of an era, sometime in the past, full of treasure hunters? Maybe that's where I'll reincarnate into, in my next life." Brex shook his head, streaming down his face with tears. He clutched Rayleigh's hand as his friend took his last breath, the light going from his eyes.
Brex was consumed by grief, yet he knew there was no time for grieving. The military closing in, he moved deeper into the cave and followed the last clues Rayleigh had been able to help him decipher. The roar of military vehicles grew louder outside, the flashing lights casting long shadows within the cave. Brex hastened his pace, then suddenly saw them-a set of muddy footprints leading to a grand entrance.
His heart racing, he stepped inside. The air was thick with dust and the faint scent of ancient stone still clung in the air. Before him stood the last ancient city, its towering structures bathed in an eerie, otherworldly light. It took his breath away. For years, he had dreamed of this moment, and now it was real. He had found it.
In the centre of the city, there was an old, beat- up chest, forgotten by time. Brex approached the chest, and his hands shook. There it was-the greatest treasure of the world. He knelt before the chest, the weight of his journey heavy upon his shoulders. With one deep breath, he finally opened it.
Inside, there was no gold to speak of; inside lay a note only. Brex fumbled with the parchment unfolding it awkwardly, then read. He did not believe what was written; a great, deep laugh burst from his lips as the words struck home. The note read: "The greatest treasure is the memories and friends made along the way."
Brex stood there, laughing amidst his tears, remembering Rayleigh's wish: the world that would see treasure hunters thriving once again. The sirens were wailing outside and the footsteps of the soldiers echoed through the cave, but then he felt this weird relief in his mind.
Knowing this was where it had to stop, Brex knew what he had to do. He would turn himself in. Not out of defeat, but because his story wasn't supposed to end there. His story had to be told.
Brex stood calmly beside the chest as the military stormed through the ancient city to arrest him. He did not resist arrest or utter a word as he was taken into custody. To the government, he represented defiance, and so they would make an example of him. They planned this execution publicly, to instill fear into the heart of any person who could still dream of searching for treasure.
But their plan backfired.
Standing tall upon the platform, manacled but untouched, at the hour of his execution was Gol D Brex. Before him was gathered a huge crowd of men and women from far and wide, called there by word of his odyssey. His legend had spread like wildfire, and at the moment of his death, he wasn't a criminal; he was the king of the treasure hunters.
Meanwhile, as the executioners set about carrying out their orders, there came a shouted query from the crowd. "Hey, King of the Treasure Hunters! Your treasure-where is it?" shouted one brave, inquisitive reporter.
Brex, with a grin defiant of death itself, proudly raised his head and declared with the most unwavering of resolve,: "You want my treasure? You can have it! I left everything the world has to offer in one place-the last ancient city. Now you just have to find it!" Those were his last words, but they outlived that execution platform. Soon, in the days and weeks that followed, the adventurers from every nook and corner of the world sought Brex's treasure. This, in many ways, ushered in a new era-the Great Treasure Hunter Era. A spirit of exploration and discovery, till then so pronounced dead, had just regained life.
Brexs' legacy continued to survive not in gold or in jewels but in the hearts of those who dared to chase their dreams, just as he did.
