Next Time

by Miss Meira

Sumerian farmer Ace is sent by the king on a journey to retrieve the mysterious drink that can save the civilization and is believed to be guarded by a legendary phoenix. He makes a choice he doesn't realize he'll be making. Ancient Mesopotamian AU. MarcoAce. [Part 1 of 3 of Next Time series but can stand alone]

Author's note: Written (or completed) for the opscifiandfantasy event on Tumblr.

Sooo, this is related to my OPSV gift for lunarshores, Just You, because this story is set before that. This is probably one of the weirdest things I did: posting the third part, the first, then (soon) the second of a series. XD But I only arranged them chronologically so no worries since all of them can stand alone. However, each story will give you different sets of feels.

Okay, no one panic. This is the saddest among the three. It doesn't have a happy ending but will give you a glimpse into Ancient Mesopotamia and how Marco and Ace first met, which is a great thing, eh? You'll probably have lots of questions after reading but I suggest waiting for the second part for answers. It's Marco's POV of both this and Just You. (Really, why didn't I just write in his POV in the first place?)

WARNING: Character death (I really am sorry)

o-o-o-o-o-o

It was already night. The sun had long since descended on the horizon, the skies shifting from a bright orange to a light purple hue. The warmth had dissolved.

And a boy named Ace watched this all happen in silence.

Ace crouched lower when he heard voices and sloppy footsteps behind him, eyes wide. He knew the tall grass, much taller than he was when he stood, would be more than sufficient to cover him. But he wanted to be careful. His solitude should remain uninterrupted.

There was more movement and noise, and Ace carefully turned around, mindful of the river near his feet; it wouldn't be in his best interest to be discovered by falling over. He peeked through the weeds and saw familiar faces.

Shanks and Buggy were the ones on the lookout. Ace stayed still. This is not good, he thought grimly. Anyone can find me here if they're looking.

But the two did not find him, to his tremendous relief. After a while of bickering, they finally left in the direction of the village. Once Ace was certain they were gone, he ran south, away from the village. His village.

The palm trees and the weeds became less abundant as he continued on his journey. Soon, the dirt became drier and finer. His feet no longer touched mud—only sand. After a few moments, the dark outline of sand mountains stretched before him.

"So this is a desert?" he mumbled.

It was Ace's first time in a desert, and the experience was surreal. His feet sunk at every step he took. The air was much colder than he expected, and he cursed as he wrapped his arms around his naked torso.

Only the howling wind could be heard and Ace found that he liked it here, in the desert. The moon was full and illuminated everything, casting a certain charm to the place. Furthermore, he was the only person around to enjoy it.

Ace regretted, as he made out movement on his right, thinking positively so quickly.

Out of the blue, a furry animal—a fox, Ace remembered from seeing hunters selling its carcass at the marketplace—bared its fangs at him. His impulse was telling him to step back and run, but he did not listen. Instead, he met its vicious eyes and slowly reached for his dagger.

The fox reacted to the sight of the blade with a snarl and leaped to him. Ace aimed his dagger for the fox's throat, but it was faster than he expected. The dagger flew off his grip and he could only get out of the way when the fox soared at him.

Before he could reach for his weapon, the fox lunged forward for the second time and Ace met it halfway, snaking his small yet strong arms around its muzzle and barely avoiding the bite aimed at his shoulder. Ace fell on his back as it was heavier than him but quickly directed a kick to its stomach, sending it flying off him to the sandy ground. It scrambled to its legs and growled lowly at him again in no time. Ace, on the other hand, rose to his feet with heavy breaths.

A small corner in his mind began to fear the unrelenting beast but Ace waved it off. He knew before he'd attacked that the fox was stronger, but he had ignored it. This was a fight where he could not back down. Running would never do him any good. I have to fight! I won't run away, he kept telling himself.

Just like that, his resolve hardened and Ace surged forward with an angry shout.

A moment later, Ace was on his knees with multiple bruises and cuts all over his body and a bleeding lip. The fox was growling in front of him, hesitating probably because Ace hadn't gone down easily and even managed to stab one of its legs. Little did it know, Ace was too tired and numb to think, to do anything.

Finally, it sensed that Ace couldn't move and prepared to attack him for the last time.

Ace cursed his weakness and how he'd be killed in such a meaningless way. If only he had been stronger, he could have easily killed the fox.

If only he had been stronger, he could have saved his father.

The fox ran to him, mouth open and ready to devour its victim.

A flash of blinding light appeared between Ace and the fox. Ace stared in shock as the unknown, bright figure fought the fox and won.

The figure turned to him, and he was surprised to see a bird. It was blue and seemed to be made of something shimmering, like fire. He wanted to touch it to see if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. The bird approached him and Ace didn't feel alarmed at all, raising his arm in response. His arms buckled, however, and gave out due to exhaustion. He fainted before he could do anything more.

.

.

.

"Ace? Ace?"

Ace woke up at the sound of his mother calling his name. She was looking at him worriedly as he straightened up and looked down at the spilled porridge, brows furrowed.

"You fell asleep while eating again." His mother was fighting a smile.

"Oh." His mind was replaying the dream—the dream that really wasn't one. He knew so because he had run away to the desert when he had been ten. However, the oddest part of that whole experience was waking up near the weeds and river—where he had been hiding before—after collapsing, without any trace of the injury he sustained. Nobody had believed his story about the bird nor his face off with the fox, all because he was uninjured.

But Ace was very sure it was real. He just did not have any evidence to back it up.

"Have you finished packing, Mother?" He accepted the proffered cloth and wiped the porridge off his face.

She sighed. "Ace—"

"The king called for me," he cut her off. "This must mean they know about ... about him. I am sure they will kill us!"

"Son, I don't believe that to be the case. If they wanted to kill us, they would've set the house on fire a long time ago."

"Mother!"

She laughed lightly and reached out to brush Ace's long locks away from his face. "It sounds ridiculous but I am serious, Ace. I don't think the king wants to kill us. I know what happened to your father was upsetting, but he only followed his heart and what he believed in. He died believing, and if you ask me, that is enough," she said softly.

Ace looked away and glared at the reed-strewn wall. "He acted like he did not have a wife and a son, and I will hate him forever for it." His mother merely looked at him sadly. "Please promise me you will leave Ur as soon as I am gone. Just listen to me this time, Mother," he pleaded.

"I know, son. I know. But our allied cities await me in the north and west, the great river in the east, and the endless desert in the south." She smiled and held his hand. "I have nowhere to go, Ace. I will stay here and wait for your return."

Ace frowned. "You can be obstinate when you want to, Mother."

She ruffled his hair. "Where do you think you get that trait from?"

Soon Ace was ready and he bid his mother farewell. She acted normal, like he was only going out to tend the farm. After asking Shanks and Buggy to keep a close eye on his mother, Ace headed to the center of their farming village, where the palace guard was waiting. When he arrived, there was a commotion.

"Oi, haven't you been informed, farmers? The king's order is to stop the construction of the walls! I said stop!" In an instant, the palace guard had raised his axe.

"And we say, 'have you lost your mind, warrior?'" an old farmer spoke, voice steady and without a trace of fear. "Your duty is to protect the city and its people and yet you dare do the opposite? The great rivers of Tigris and Euphrates surround us, ready to flood us at any moment, and you are telling us to stop building the walls?"

"Not me, the king. King Teach has far more effective plans of saving this city than you fools do."

Ace had enough. "Still blindly believing that?"

Everyone turned around. The farmers relaxed when Ace sauntered next to the guard. The guard, on the other hand, finally lowered his axe.

"All set, boy?" the guard asked Ace nonchalantly.

Ace did not answer, only walking towards the direction of the city gates. He sensed the guard following silently from behind and decided to irk him. "What, are you people thinking I wouldn't know the way? Is that why I'm being fetched like a lost bull?"

All Ace got was silence and he thought it was the guard's way of payback. He snorted and continued walking, not minding the person behind and instead starting to think of why he was being called.

It was a mystery to him, and the guard hadn't disclosed anything when he knocked on their door that morning. He hoped to the heavens above he would not get killed. He did not want to die just for being the son of a revolutionary.

They arrived at the palace in no time and Ace was barely recovering from seeing the grandeur of the more upscale part of the city. The guard took the lead then and Ace was ushered to the throne room.

His perusal of the golden ornaments was interrupted when a booming voice exclaimed, "You don't look like Roger at all!"

From behind the curtains, the successor of former king Ur-Nammu, Marshall Teach grinned at him before sitting on a large golden chair.

"I am told that often."

The king eyed Ace with interest. "I see. Do you know why I called you here?"

"I don't."

"I have a mission for you, boy."

At his words, Ace glared. King or not, he had no respect for this man for multiple reasons. "Mission? What am I, one of your puppets? I do not carry out anyone's missions."

Yet the king was grinning despite all that. "I expected no less of a response from you, son of Gol Roger."

"Call me that one more time and I—"

There was a commotion from the door and Ace's breath caught when a familiar man entered. Restrained by two palace guards, his father, Gol Roger, was dragged in with shackles and ragged clothes.

This is impossible. "Father? You are alive?!" was all Ace managed.

But Roger ignored him and glared at Teach. "I will repeat myself time and time again. You are no king, fool. I see greed and vitriol deeply embedded in you, running in your veins, operating a vermin like you. The things running in your mind are not for this kingdom that I know!" Roger almost hit the floor when he was struck by one of the two guards.

"Put care in how you speak to His Majesty, ingrate! Do you wish to see the slaughter of your son?"

With eyes swimming with unknown emotions, Roger looked at Ace and smirked. "Son? I have no recollection of such a snotty child. You must be mistaken."

That wasn't what he expected his father to say after all these years. Ace grinded his teeth in anger. "The people are right about you! You are worthless!"

King Teach cut in. "Zehahaha! I expected a reunion and this is what I see! Oh, Roger, Roger, you never fail to surprise me. Ah, in actuality, you did not at this time, farmer. Your more-colorful-than-normal language explained a lot to me. You do care about your son."

There was a slight twitch in Roger's eye. "I never spoke out of turn nor said anything to prove that assertion." King Teach grinned mockingly. "Do not play games with me, damned king."

"I am not playing games with you, farmer. Zehahaha! You still have the audacity to degrade me in your current position. Tell me what you shall do if I send your son to the executioners right now."

"Nothing. He is not—stop!" As Roger was speaking, Teach had nodded to one of his men and that guard proceeded to prepare an attack for Ace using a battle axe.

The guard halted and Teach was all smiles. Ace, who had braced himself to attack because even though he knew he couldn't fight with his dagger, he wouldn't go down easily, slowly turned to Roger. "You will be safe, son. I will protect you."

Ace bit the inside of his cheek in attempt to rein in his anger. He failed and shouted, "You were dead! You ran to this place and got killed! Mother mourned for you!" He pointed his dagger accusingly. "You don't care about me or Mother, so you have no right to say those words."

"Ace." His grip on the dagger tightened at hearing his name spoken by Roger. "I know I am an imperfect man. I have committed a lot of mistakes, especially to my family. But now I know better, and I am saving this kingdom to save my family," his father said, face serious.

His father's conviction and expression made Ace lower his hand unconsciously.

"Do not think you can escape from me. Restrain the boy as well," Teach said. Ace tried his best to resist as the guards put shackles on him. "What nonsense are you on this time, Roger? You are among those who want the civilization to end! Don't you realize how foolish that is? Ur is so much better like this!"

"That was my biggest mistake. But being imprisoned for ten years shone light on the real problem. It is not the civilization that is the root of evil, but you! You are not fit to be this civilization's king."

Teach's relaxed demeanor transformed to anger. "Silence! Now that I witnessed what I want to see, observe what I shall make your son do, Roger."

Roger struggled against the guards and his chains. "Whatever you're planning, damned king, leave my son out of this!"

"Zehahaha! And now you acknowledge the brat! I fear I cannot, farmer. You see, your son grew infamous even as a farm boy. His strength is commendable. I thought he would be perfect for this certain mission."

"Mission? What mission?" Roger asked sharply.

"Did I not tell you I don't take orders, you wretch?!" Ace exclaimed and received a hit because of it.

Teach remained his composure despite the interruptions. "Van Auger!"

One of the guards beside Roger pulled out his battle axe and delivered a blow to Roger with it.

"Aaaahh!" Roger screamed in pain.

Ace found himself struggling. "No! Father! Unhand me!" said Ace.

Teach was grinning and Ace wanted to plunge his dagger at him. "You do not have many choices, farm boy. It is either you do as I say or I kill your father right at this moment!"

Ace glared. "How can I trust you not to kill my family once I do as you say?"

"Van Auger." Another hit to Roger.

"NO!" He growled. "Bastards!"

"You do not question my word. I am in control here, not you. Do you understand?" Ace continued glaring.

"Zehahaha! Very well! Your mission is to retrieve a special drink for me."

Despite his state, Roger snorted. "You've grown tired of barley? How ludicrous."

"I am not talking with you, Roger. As I said, this drink is special. Maybe the right word is … legendary, and it is the key to end the territorial dispute." At Ace and Roger's raised brows, Teach clarified, "You are all well aware of our history. Ur's First Dynasty united all cities around Tigris and Euphrates, but damn Sargon took over and built an empire, which the Second Dynasty, our dynasty, destroyed. Can you not see my point? We created an unheard of feat, a civilization! Thousands of tribes are waiting to conquer us. As if our fertile land isn't enough of a reason!" Teach laughed loudly.

To be honest, Ace did see his point, but he kept that to himself. There was still something suspicious about Teach.

"What is this drink then? And I fail to see why you are ordering me, a child of an enemy, when you can have your followers do it for you," Ace spat.

"If you want to know the reason, I'll tell you." Teach sat back in his seat. "I have asked my soldiers to look for the drink for me, but they failed."

"Failed?"

"They died, foolish boy."

"And you think a farmer can do this? You're the foolish one!" Roger exclaimed.

Teach glared at Roger. "One more word and I might change my mind and kill your entire family instead." Teach turned back to Ace. "They died because someone—or something—prevented them from taking the drink. It is what the Egyptians call a phoenix. Legend has it that it is a bird that rises out of the ashes."

"A legend? Does that mean this phoenix and whatever you are looking for might not be real? What if your followers weren't killed but merely lost their minds searching for nothing?"

"You can think, farm boy! Van Auger here is a survivor. He confirmed that the drink and the phoenix exist, but he is incapable of performing this mission so I am sending you. After all, isn't a person with his family in mind more effective than anything?"

"You are despicable."

"That's right, son."

"Is that a yes, farm boy? I need you to formally answer me with 'yes, my king.'"

Ace glared. "Yes, damned king. And before you speak, you have enough threatening for today that I suggest you stop."

Teach wasn't pleased with that and barked out to his attendants, "Get Roger back to his prison and give the farm boy a donkey and the necessary materials. Oh." He turned back to Ace. "Before I forget, you only have two full moons to finish your mission. Here is the map where the legendary drink and phoenix are said to be located." He handed a clay tablet to Ace. "Don't try anything funny, boy, if you want your father's head to stay where it is."

Ace stared at the smug king. His hands balled into fists, wanting to hit something, anything. But he never initiated the things running through his mind. He let himself accept the tablet and be pulled to the stables and away from his father.

He never let his gaze off his father while he could; so did Roger to him.

He was given weapons and a black, wool coat to protect him since he was only wearing the traditional ankle-length skirt. Ace had an urge to use the weapons on the guards, and the way they were looking at him suggested they were thinking the same, but he restrained himself. He did not want his father or mother to die.

Since Ace was a mere farmer, he was given the smallest donkey, Spade, to ride. He patted its head comfortingly, feeling a sense of pity for the creature. The donkey neighed, as if it could understand his sentiments. It seemed probable. After all, they both shared the feeling of oppression, of all things.

Ace hated it.

He didn't even have the chance to say goodbye to his mother. It was useless too since Ace pretty much converted himself into an empty shell as a last resort to not break down. He was moving mechanically.

He hated the feeling of helplessness so much—he really did. But what he hated the most was he hadn't done anything to change his helplessness. If only he'd become stronger than a fleet, he wouldn't have to follow an idiotic ruler. If only he was smarter, he could've use the rules set down by their ancestor, by Ur-Nammu, to fight for his right.

The feeling was like the fight with that fox again. Ace could only dejectedly say if only.

The map the damned king gave him showed an oasis in the middle of the desert on the south. A chill ran down his spine as he remembered his first encounter in the desert, but now it was not of fear like when he was young, but excitement. At least, these were enemies he could defeat.

Ace headed south and was soon surrounded by humongous sandy mountains. He walked for hours, dragging the donkey along. He had thought about riding it, but it was too small for him. His water supply composed of six canteens only, and Ace had already consumed two for the day. He needed to conserve.

It was sunset when Ace decided to stop for the night. He pulled out some sheepskin cloths and laid them on the sandy ground. Surprisingly, the donkey curled up near his head and shielded his face from the flying sand. He fell asleep in an instant.

The same things happened during the following days with the exception of an animal attack—usually foxes, but Ace was more than capable of taking them down and eventually eating them. However, the desert animals were the least of his concerns.

What worried him was if the provisions he brought would be enough to last him the journey. Ace was a voracious eater and yet he tried his best not to overeat because of his limited supplies. He wasn't happy with it, but he had no choice. He found himself hoping for the foxes and snakes to show up more so he could kill and eat them.

Not to mention, water was running dangerously low. He had encountered some grass where he was able to collect dew. As his journey dragged on, the grass became more sporadic.

The days turned into a full week and Ace's life became a tiresome cycle. The more time passed, the more he was convinced that he was merely blindly looking for things that did not exist. He thought countless times of returning back to Ur and admitting to that damned king that he could not find anything, but what the king might do to his family prevented him from following that thought. What's more, someone testified to the existence of the drink and phoenix, so he could not simply give up and go back.

It was the fifth day of the second week when Ace was cursing everything around him. A loaf of bread was all he had and he wasn't seeing foxes any more. He reluctantly broke off the bread and offered half to Spade who understood the situation and looked apologetic, in Ace's opinion anyway; he might be hallucinating. Having Spade as his next meal was not an option as the donkey became more of a friend than a companion on what would have been a lonely journey into sand nothingness.

When morning came, Ace packed up and started pulling Spade along with him. To his surprise, the donkey would not budge.

"What is the matter, Spade?"

All he got was a neighing sound. It sounded like a complaint. Again, he might be imagining it.

"You're tired and hungry, aren't you?" A softer neigh. Agreement. "I know that. So am I, but we have no choice but to continue. Whether the drink and the phoenix are real or not, the oasis where they are is no doubt real. We simply have to reach that oasis to get more food and rest, all right?" Another sound of agreement. "Let us continue, Spade!" he said enthusiastically.

Yet his enthusiasm was short-lived. The desert became unbearably hot that day, and Ace's throat had gone from scratchy to unbearably painful. Little did he know, the temperature was one of the signs of a sandstorm.

Ace ran as fast as he could on unsteady ground, tugging Spade along. He had closed his eyes a long time ago due to the sand getting to them and was blindly heading off into what he hoped was the southern direction. He couldn't even tell what was up and down anymore.

The winds became harder to resist and Ace fell on his side, losing Spade's reins and starting to drown in the accumulating sand. Spade's neighs were becoming harder to pick up but he tried to seek the donkey out. His stomach churned in fear when he couldn't. His fatigued body protested. He tried to stand one more time, and when he was on his knees, he was knocked back down again. Because he did not want sand in his mouth, Ace suppressed a groan and curled up and waited for the storm to pass.

He hoped he and Spade would survive in one piece.

When Ace awoke, he was lying on his back with his legs buried in the sand. The sand was over and the sky above him was so blue and calm Ace would never have thought a sandstorm actually happened. Next time, maybe he could try sleeping through it.

To his surprise, Spade was at his side, patiently waiting for him to get up. He grinned and brushed the sand on his back once he sat up. When Ace stood, he staggered and steadied himself by leaning into Spade. The donkey neighed worriedly and knelt a little, silently offering him a ride.

"No, I'm all right." Spade neighed in protest. "Why are you being stubborn? You can't carry me." The next sound Spade made was akin to challenging. "All right!"

Ace swung his leg and slowly sat on Spade's back. He stopped himself from jumping off when Spade made a sound of disapproval. It wasn't Ace's fault he wanted to ease his friend's suffering. Spade's legs were shaking from the weight after all.

Spade set off. A few moments later, Ace said, "I can walk now, Spade. You can't carry me all day."

But Spade neighed and, to Ace's horror, galloped faster.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed. They began climbing a dune and when they were at the top, he had his answer.

Out of the scorching heat, the trickling sweat, that came from the cloudless day, there appeared a safe haven. Green trees taller than the date palms from his home stood a dark contrast to the warm yellow-brown land he had grown accustomed to.

Ace blinked once, twice, willing himself to wake up and realize this was all just a good dream.

But he was awake.

The haven was real.

He let out a loud cry of relief that echoed back to him. He grinned down at Spade and ruffled its mane. "You'll finally be able to drink!"

Without further ado, they headed to the oasis. Ace's throat was on fire, and his stomach rumbling. And yet, his mind shifted to the purpose of his journey. Would he find them here? Were the phoenix and the drink Teach was talking about all real?

Spade skidded to a halt when they reached the tree line. Up close, it was a bigger oasis than he expected. He was about to ask Spade why he stopped when he heard it: a scream. Was there a person living here? Ace didn't know that was possible, but he quickly dismounted from Spade and began wading his way in because the scream was certainly of pain.

Keeping his fascination with the luxurious vegetation aside, he followed the direction where the scream resounded. The plants were all over the place and were the reason why he tripped twice. Still, he ignored the searing pain on his knees and moved forward, countless bird calls echoing in the distance. A large date palm-looking plant was on his way and Ace pushed it aside.

Ace squinted for a second as the sunlight hit his face directly and then his eyes widened at the beautiful scenery of flowers and big trees forming an almost circle, a clearing. The sun bathed everything in a warm, relaxing glow and Ace felt the fatigue leaving him from just looking at the scene.

There was movement at the far end and Ace's attention was directed to it. To his utmost surprise, a human figure slowly stood up. Then he remembered. That person must be the one in pain!

When Ace was a few feet away, he paused and blinked. It was a man but what made Ace hesitate was his state of clothing. Or rather, the lack of it. The man was completely naked.

"Er, pardon me but—"

When Ace spoke, the man turned around in an instant, eyes wide and confused. Ace waited for him to speak but the man merely stared. He thought maybe the man didn't understand his words. The talk of the merchants often consisted of the variety of languages other groups possessed.

He tried putting his actions to words. "I am a traveler from Ur." Ace placed his hands on his chest and then gestured to what he hoped was the direction of his city. He hoped that was enough.

Unfortunately, the man wasn't listening. He was looking down staring at his hands and flinched when he moved his right elbow. Ace saw a long gash of red.

"You're the one who screamed. You are who I'm looking for!" Ace exclaimed. "What happened to you?"

Ace went to check on the wound. He was not a healer, but he remembered a lot of what his mother had done whenever he was injured. The man's wound looked pretty serious. The gash was at least the same size as Ace's palm and was bleeding profusely. He pulled out a cloth from his pocket.

"Now, this might hurt a little, but please bear it so I can stop the bleeding." The man finally gave a sign Ace was making sense by nodding. Ace carefully wrapped the cloth and tied it securely; now all he needed was to clean it and find the right herbs to heal it.

When he glanced up, the man was frowning and had a small crease on his brow. He probably sensed Ace's stare because he looked at him.

"You're from Sumer." Ace was shocked that he could actually speak his language. The way the man phrased it a statement of fact rather than a question made Ace curious.

"Sumer?"

"That is what the Akkadians call you."

Ace tensed up. Akkadians were their threatening neighbors. "Are you an Akkadian then?"

"No. I am from Egypt," the man calmly replied.

"Oh." Egyptians were good trading partners. "Well, I am Ace."

"I am Marco." Marco had an odd expression to his face, much to Ace's curiosity. His attention was diverted when Marco raised his injured arm and cradled it to his chest. "Uh—"

"We need to get to a lake so we can clean it," Ace said. Then he noticed the one glaringly obvious fact he had overlooked. "But, um, clothes. Why don't you have clothes? Don't you have any?"

When he got nothing but a stare as a reply, Ace dug in his sack and found one of the skirts he didn't use. He handed it to Marco who accepted it but did not put it on. "Well?" Marco was merely staring at his robe. "You haven't seen this one before? I am wearing one actually."

Ace put down his things and swiftly pulled off the robe, relieved that he could remove it without feeling like thousands of needles were prickling his skin. "There. See, this is what we wear back home. You just pull it up and secure it around here," Ace explained.

Slowly, Marco dressed himself.

Ace grinned. "Do people from Egypt walk around naked?"

"No." It sounded like a question, making Ace snort.

"You're a strange one. Shall we go?"

Marco looked torn but eventually agreed and he led the way. The journey was short and Ace stared longingly at the water.

"You're thirsty."

Ace looked at him. "Ran out of rations."

"So you should drink."

"If you insist." Ace knelt by the edge of the lake. "And you should clean your wound as well. That will take a long while to heal." He scooped water to his mouth and drank greedily.

Marco crouched beside him. "Oh, I heal fast."

His hands paused midway. "There's no such thing as healing fast."

Marco smiled. "Not really. No."

Ace reeled at the peculiar answer, but continued bringing water to his mouth. A neighing sound made him turn around and he grinned sheepishly at an angry looking Spade.

"Forgive me, my friend."

Spade grunted but immediately sauntered to Ace's other side and lapped at the water.

"You can understand him?" Marco asked, surprised.

"Hm? Oh, no. I only assume. We've been traveling for a long time that I got accustomed to him." Then a thought occurred to him. "What made you say that?"

Marco looked taken aback, but started removing the cloth. "Nothing," was all he said.

All Ace could do was shrug off Marco's remark and help himself to the water. When his thirst was quenched, he helped Marco with his wound. Apparently, Marco was bad at treating injuries—much worse than Ace—and he admitted that it was his first time getting a serious injury.

"Are you a traveler like myself?" Ace asked.

Marco seemed to be thinking of his answer. "I go to Egypt every other year."

"Is that so? How long is every other year?"

"It—it depends."

"Hmm."

To Ace, it looked like Marco did not want to divulge much about himself. Maybe something painful had happened to him in Egypt. Ace could relate and therefore decided to avoid the topic of home as much as possible.

"You look older than I do. How old are you?"

Marco's hand froze in the middle of dabbing. "I—I, uh, lost track."

He slowly nodded. "You're just like my mother. She always forgets her age and I have to remind her." Marco hummed but was too absorbed with the dried blood on his skin.

After a while, he tried again. "Aren't you going to ask my age?"

Marco did not look up from his work. "Why should I? You don't know me."

Ace scoffed. "Is that your reason? That's why I'm asking you so I can know you." Marco shrugged and the lack of a more active response made Ace want to irk him more. "I'm twenty and I think you're no older than forty."

Finally, Marco met his determined face. "Probably."

He restrained the urge to groan. "Are you so old that you can't bear to have a decent conversation with a young man like me?" he asked, exasperated.

"No." Marco sounded offended. "It is just that I don't know how. I've been alone for a long time."

"Don't you have a family in Egypt?" So much for not mentioning home. Ace wanted to smack himself.

"I don't. I'm the only one," Marco said slowly.

"Oh." Ace did not know what to say. He knew the feeling of pain from his injuries, but the way Marco expressed his solitude seemed more serious than Ace could ever comprehend. Who knew? Marco might be a misfit in Egypt and ran away to the desert for peace. He hated the feeling. "You're not."

"What?"

"You have me now. It's not 'only one' anymore." He grinned. The look on Marco's face was priceless, and Ace laughed. "You don't have to be so apprehensive. I am harmless." Just then, his stomach gave an impressive growl. "And hungry. Want to go hunt some birds?"

"No!" Marco exclaimed quickly and Ace's brows furrowed. "I mean, there are some foxes that found their way here. I was planning on taking them down myself, but I was too irrational and well, got hurt." He raised his arm. "But don't you worry. I will go hunt them down now."

He proceeded to stand but Ace quickly pulled him back down.

"Hold on! You can't hunt in that condition! I'll do it; foxes are easy prey for me."

Marco gave him a calculating stare. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Ace unsheathed his dagger and jogged to the direction of the denser trees. "I'll be back soon. Mind your wound, all right?"

The hunt was over before Ace knew it. He had no problems at all—just like in the desert—except for the tree roots he barely avoided. On his shoulder was a dead red fox and he wracked his brain to remember where the lake was. Coincidentally, he passed by the familiar fern-like plant that his mother used for treating injuries and plucked some leaves. Now all that was left was to return to the lake.

Where in Enlil's sake is the lake?

An array of birds flying over his head caught his attention. They were circling, like they were indeed trying to catch his attention. When Ace had glanced up, they broke the circle and headed to the left. Maybe because he thought he could understand and compare the odd behavior to Spade's, he followed the birds, hoping he was not being a fool by doing so.

To his relief, he was not. Maybe he had an innate gift with animals.

Marco was sitting right where Ace had left him, his uninjured arm propped behind him and eyes intently trained on his borrowed skirt. He looked so deep in thought that he failed to notice the birds flying near him. So the birds liked Marco; might that be the reason he was against eating them?

The fox was dropped unceremoniously to the ground with a thud, making Marco look up in surprise.

"What? You thought I couldn't take down a meager fox?" Ace grinned. He handed the herbs to Marco. "These are for the wound. Place them over your arm for a few days. It helps with cleansing and healing."

"Thank you."

While Marco was busy with his wound, Ace gathered twigs and fallen branches so he could start a fire. The sun was setting so he hurried with his job.

"What are you doing?" Marco asked when he had squatted down and had arranged the twigs into a disorderly heap.

"Cooking."

Marco hummed, observing his actions carefully. Ace pulled out the supplies he needed from his bag and studied the wood he had gathered, trying to figure out a way to cook the fox. Once he had finished preparing and cooking, he gave Marco his own share and immediately went to devour his.

"What are you doing here, Ace?"

"Hm?" He turned to find Marco staring at him intently. "My being here is, uh, too complicated to explain. It's a conversation I can't share with strangers."

"Why is that?"

Ace looked away, putting down the meat. For some reason, his stomach was doing floppy somersaults. He felt nauseated. "You wouldn't believe me."

"I've had my fair share of peculiarities in life. You need not worry." Marco's voice sounded amused.

"You might think it's silly." Ace groaned. He reached for his water and drank in big gulps. Even after drinking, the pain in his belly wouldn't go away. He groaned again.

"Ace? Are you all right?"

Ace's breaths turned shallow. His body was starting to lose its strength, and he fell to his side.

"Ace!" came Marco's panicked voice. He felt hands on his shoulder, then his face. "Ace, what happened?"

"I-I don't know," he rasped out.

Marco's fingers prodded his neck and chest. "You must have eaten something you shouldn't have in the desert. Stay here."

"Nnh," was all Ace managed before he passed out.

---

When Ace regained consciousness, the skies were a deep blue, the stars shining brightly on the clear expanse. He tried to make sense of his surroundings, while trying to recall the events that transpired before he had collapsed.

"You're awake."

A face he knew—Marco's face—entered his field of vision. He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the frown on his face was deeper and grimmer than before.

Ace opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Marco helped him in a sitting position before handing him the canteen. Once Ace was hydrated, he asked, "What happened to me?"

"It seems like I was right. You ate a poisonous plant, a deadly one. If I hadn't given you the proper antidote, you would have been dead."

Ace's eyes widened, and his mind went back to the cactus he had been eyeing hungrily the day before yesterday. It had looked so scrumptious that he couldn't resist. He should've known better. His mother always warned him about the dangers of the desert.

Then Marco's words settled in his hazy mind. If Marco hadn't saved him, he would've died. He wouldn't be able to do the mission he set out to do. He wouldn't be able to save his mother, his father, his family.

Ace reached out and encircled his arms around Marco. Marco froze, but he was too overwhelmed to notice.

"Thank you," Ace said, voice thick with emotion. If he had died….

Slowly, Marco returned the hug. "You're welcome."

---

From that moment on, Ace regarded Marco with utmost respect and admiration for being able to know and identify the right remedy for poisonous cacti. He let Marco nurse him back to full health, but not without many complaints on his part. Ace could take care of himself, somehow. He might have almost eaten five pieces of his medicine—bright red cherries—instead of only three, but that didn't matter.

He stopped trying to care for himself when Marco told him an overdose of the cherries would cause blindness.

He remembered Marco's injury, and how it would impede his actions. And yet he found himself gaping when Marco easily flexed his arm on the third day after Ace had collapsed.

"I told you I heal fast." Marco grinned.

He merely nodded, too dumbfounded to give a proper reply. He wished Marco's quick regenerative ability applied to him, too, because he didn't fancy being taken care of.

Marco never asked for the reason of his expedition again, and Ace felt relieved. He would try to stall the conversation as best he could, possibly until he was back to normal. Marco regarding him as a lunatic wasn't something he wished to happen soon.

Marco was a good man. Ace realized this on the fifth day of his stay in the oasis as a poison survivor. In the mornings, once he awoke, Marco was there to greet him and give him water and the cherries. He had also taken it upon himself to cook food for the both of them. Marco told him that cooking fascinated him. When Ace asked why, Marco gave him a peculiar answer. It was so humane, he had said.

Cooking was nothing more than a necessary means to survive for Ace. Back home, when he had almost started a fire from roasting a boar, cooking became a challenge he would never brave out unless he was desperate. And so he watched with amusement how Marco put more effort than necessary in preparing their meals, which ended up being the best things to ever come in contact with his taste buds.

On top of his superb cooking skills, Marco was a conversationalist. Ace was never one to talk much to start with, and Marco respected that, but when the air between them turned awkward, Marco would tell him stories. Ace found these stories very fascinating because it was his first time hearing about the history of Egypt. Marco regaled him with the interesting events like he had been there himself.

A week had already passed after his dramatic fall when a sudden realization hit Ace. He cut Marco off by grasping the man's shoulder.

"Are you a scholar, perhaps?" Ace asked, his tone alight with curiosity.

Marco was taken aback from being interrupted from his tales, staring at Ace for a moment. "Something like that."

Ace wanted the gods to punish him for speaking out of turn. Again. They had an unspoken agreement, him and Marco. As long as Ace never asked personal questions, Marco would do so, as well. It worked for Ace though since his quest was something he liked to stay as a secret. But there were times he forgot, like when Marco was being too interesting for him to think his actions through.

To Ace's relief, Marco went on with his tale. A few moments later, once their conversation had died down until nothing but the soft chirps of the birds—that were constantly near Marco; Ace did say Marco was interesting—Marco spoke.

"How are you feeling, Ace?"

It was the first time Marco asked, so Ace took a moment to check his condition, standing up from his sitting position by the palm tree and stretching. Since he woke up this morning, he felt light, normal. He had been allowed to sit up with Marco by the lake, after all.

"Good. Better, all thanks to you." He grinned at Marco who gave a small smile. "I am really grateful for everything, Marco. If I had gold, I would definitely repay your kindness."

"You've repaid me by keeping me company."

Ace raised his eyebrows. "I have done nothing but sleep, eat, and listen to your stories. That hardly counts."

"No," Marco said firmly, surprising Ace. "You are a pleasant company. It should be me who should be grateful. You are different from the humans in Egypt, no, from anyone I've ever met."

"Huh." Marco sounded like he didn't have any friends, from his tone. It was a shame if that was the case. "You should befriend more people, Marco. There are good people out there." He started piling his wool blanket back into his bag. "Now I'm afraid this is where I have to leave."

"You're leaving?" Ace didn't miss the disappointment coloring Marco's voice. Not that Marco made any attempt to hide it. He was staring wide-eyed at Ace, his back straighter.

"Yes. I have something I need to find in this place. This oasis is bigger than the norm, so I expect what I'm looking for to be on the other side." After all, he had checked the right side, the side he was staying, when he hunted that first day. He didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Like an extraordinary bird.

"What is it you're looking for? Tell me. I might know it."

Ace was a little confused by the urgent tone that Marco used. It was like he was afraid for Ace. "Is it dangerous on the other side?"

"What?" Marco asked, befuddled. "Not really, just the occasional wild beast."

"Then I'll be fine." Once he was sure everything was inside, Ace hoisted the bag over his shoulder.

"Take me with you."

Ace froze and turned to meet Marco's gaze. His eyes flashed with determination, like he wouldn't allow Ace to set foot on the other side alone. It made Ace wonder if there really was no danger.

He wanted to ask Marco for a reason why he wanted to go with him, why Marco was going through the trouble of accompanying him after wasting a week treating him. A question was at the tip of Ace's tongue, and he hesitated a few times before his resolved hardened.

"Why, Marco? We never asked the important questions about the other, and yet you wanted me to take you. I apologize because this will sound rude but—I don't know you, Marco. What I am going to do is not something I can share with a stranger."

Marco held his gaze before he sighed. "You are right." Ace relaxed, glad that he understood. "Then I shall tell you about myself." Ace's eyes widened, but before he could speak, Marco had continued. "I once lived in Egypt, but I left it ages ago. I live here now."

Ace's jaw dropped. Now that Marco mentioned it, he had not noticed Marco carry a traveling bag their entire time together. How stupid of him not to notice. "You live here? All by yourself?"

Marco met his eyes again. "Yes."

"Your family?"

"I told you I'm alone. That's a different story, altogether, Ace. There are secrets I am not willing to share with you, and you must feel the same. What I can say is that the creatures of this place, the birds—" he smiled as the said animals chirped loudly around him. "—are my family."

Ace was still gaping. "How long have you been here?"

Marco hummed. "I don't know. This place has been a sanctuary and a meditation ground for me, until you came." Marco smiled. "I see it the way you do, a wonderful oasis, a safe haven for travelers."

"Then." Ace gulped down the anticipation. "If you've been here for long, do you happen to know of a mysterious drink that can save a civilization? The reason why I'm here, why I'm so far from home, is that the king ordered me to search for it. If I failed, he would kill my family." His voice had faded into a whisper by the last sentence.

A sharp gasp had Ace reeling. Marco was scrambling to his feet and was pressing back to the palm tree.

"You're after the elixir of life?" came his shocked question.

Ace's brows furrowed for no one ever mentioned an elixir of life to him. "Is that what it's called?"

"You cannot have the elixir, Ace."

"What?" He walked until he was in front of Marco, their faces inches apart. "Why can't I? And does this mean you know where I can find this elixir?"

Marco took in a deep breath. "You said your family is being held captive by your king?"

"He isn't my king," Ace spat. "King Teach has never been a good king to Ur." Marco didn't reply, seeming to wait for an actual answer. Ace heaved a deep sigh. "He's holding my father captive. King Teach is cunning and ruthless. I wouldn't put it past him to do the same to my mother."

Marco frowned at that and proceeded to look at Ace like he was trying to find something. Ace was distracted by the birds making a racket around Marco. Finally, he perked up when Marco approached until they were a few inches apart again.

His breathing stopped when Marco leaned forward even more. Marco lifted a hand, and Ace watched as it neared his face. His instincts were telling him to stop the hand, but he found his eyes closing, readying himself for the hit. Why he reacted this way, he never knew.

But the hit did not come.

Marco's touch was light, tentative. His hand danced across Ace's cheek. He opened one eye to find Marco staring at him.

"I never really told you, but they are beautiful on you."

At first, Ace was scowling in confusion then realized Marco was referring to the little, dark marks marring his face. As an adult, he'd grown annoyed at the marks because no one would take him seriously when he was enraged; they said the marks made him look younger, and in effect, weaker. Ace was not a child anymore. The people insulted him for the marks. Only his mother would smile and caress his face, and now also….

Ace realized that Marco was close, too close for comfort. A wave of embarrassment washed over him and made him take a step back. Marco's hand fell to his side.

"Thank you," Ace whispered, his eyes trained on the ground. He scowled when he felt blood rush to his face. There shouldn't be blood rushing to his face.

Marco chuckled.

Loud chirping broke the odd spell that seemed to surround the two of them. The birds were flying around Marco's head in a circle. Ace glanced up to look at them, and so did Marco.

"Hmm, if you don't mind, Ace, we should begin the journey tomorrow morning instead of this afternoon. The forest isn't a safe place at night, after all."

Ace raised an eyebrow. We? Marco would come with him still? He opened his mouth to ask, but closed it immediately. For some reason, the idea that Marco was willing to join him on his journey made Ace happy. Marco had been a constant presence he had grown used to, and perhaps that would explain this feeling of his.

If Marco was willing, Ace had no choice. He tried not to dwell how his decision was related to his friendship with Marco.

How odd. Ace had friends. Not many, but he still had them back home, and none of them made him feel this content.

"Ace?" Marco had come back from setting up their beds—large leaves and some cloths of Ace's—and had found him staring off into oblivion.

"Ah, all right. Let's leave early tomorrow."

---

True to Ace's words, they did leave early. Dawn had not even arrived yet when Marco was gently shaking him awake. Ace blinked a few times, trying to will the sleepiness away. He yawned, his gaze fixed on Marco who was packing the cloths of their makeshift bed.

Marco always had this sleepy look on him, a consequence of having heavy-lidded eyes. But in reality, he was the complete opposite of drowsiness. Marco's voice was firm and deep and sure, like his words were well-chosen before he voiced them. Despite his heavy lids, the irises of his eyes were alert and wise and a deep, dark chocolate color. Ace didn't know why he was suddenly appraising his friend like a fox in the marketplace. Oh, right, he remembered.

"You should sleep more," Ace said, standing up and raising his arms to loosen the knots of his muscles.

"I can't. We have to leave."

"No." Ace put his arms back down. "What I meant is you sleep too little. In fact, I haven't seen you sleep," he realized with a jolt. Marco would always let him sleep first at night—considering most of the nights they spent together had been when Ace was ill and when he woke up in the morning, Marco was always up before him. It was silly that Ace only pointed this out now. "Are you even sleeping, Marco?"

"Of course, I sleep, Ace." Marco sounded surprised at his assumption. "It is just that I don't sleep much to start with. A short reprieve is enough for me."

"Is that so?" How surprising that a human could stand and think with only a little sleep. Then again, his mother was the same way. Perhaps it was an adult trait? Marco did say he was probably no older than forty.

They packed all of Ace's belongings into the bag, adding some fruits and refills of water into the mix. Soon, they were traipsing the forest, a feat that Ace found as difficult as that first day in here. His capture with that fox had been a stroke of luck, seeing as he could not keep himself upright for long because of the lengthy vines and giant tree roots were everywhere. If it weren't for Marco constantly saving him, he would have face-planted into the muddy ground many times now.

Ace figured he shouldn't be surprised when he and Marco had a small talk about themselves. Revealing secrets had them more at ease with each other. Marco had only a couple of things to say as he had lost his family for as long as he could remember. This made Ace question his caretaker, because a baby could not grow up by himself, after all. It took him a while to say that he had someone he considered a father figure who cared for him and checked him from time to time. This did not make sense to Ace, but he remembered his own father—a man he thought had left them, but was actually, secretly alive. Whoever this father figure was, Ace was sure he was hiding things from Marco, too, if Marco's slightly confused and far off look was anything to go by.

It was almost sunset when they stopped for the night. Ace set up their sleeping cloths while Marco refilled their empty canteens on a nearby creek. They ate their packed fruits in silence, neither of them in the mood to hunt. Only when they finished that Ace remembered something of vital importance.

"Marco, we have a problem." Marco lowered the canteen to the ground and gave Ace his full attention.

"What is it?"

Ace recalled the confrontation with King Teach. So much had happened on that fateful day. Most of them were, if Ace was being honest, cast away from his mind due to all that had happened to him. He had found out his father was alive, had his family's life threatened, had been sent off to the desert to claim a mysterious drink from a dangerous creature—

Ace's breath caught as his mind caught up with the information. He was up and away from Marco before either of them could do anything.

Teach had mentioned how his soldiers perished in this mission. The map of the place where the drink was located pointed to this large, blessed oasis. Ace knew that. This place was supposed to house the drink.

As well as the legendary phoenix.

"Marco," Ace breathed out. Marco, who had stiffened at Ace's sudden retreat, met Ace's wide-eyed stare. "If what you said was true, that you're living here for a long while now, then you must be aware of the men who have come here and tried to find the elixir. You must be aware of the creature guarding it: the phoenix."

There was a possibility in his mind, a possibility he chose to believe in, that Marco was unaware of the demise of the soldiers. He lived on the other side of the forest, after all, and had been apprehensive of the elixir to start with. Ace had only met him because of the sandstorm that threw off his sense of direction, enabling him to enter the side of the oasis far from his home. Ace had been lucky and unlucky at the same time.

Marco held his stare for a long time before he sighed. The birds that disappeared when they ate had appeared once more, flying around Marco. Ace's perusal of the birds was disrupted when Marco spoke, "I am aware."

That was not enough. "Of?" Ace prodded with bated breath.

Marco's eyes were downcast when he said, "Of both."

Many questions revolved around Ace's head, but what came out was one he needed the answer the most. "Why did you not tell me, Marco?"

"I didn't tell you"—Marco's eyes met his—"because I am the phoenix."

No.

Ace didn't know why he was running away. The creature he sought for was right in front of him. It should be towards, preferably with a knife on his hand. But that was insane because that creature was Marco, and Marco was his friend. A friend who had treated him when he was sick. A friend who had cooked for him when he was unable to.

A friend who lied to his face.

A thousand questions and assumptions sprang in his mind after Marco's admission, but he didn't want to entertain those. Ace focused on running and on the ground he was running on. But honestly, he was doing a pathetic job.

He grimaced as his foot caught on a root and he fell, tumbling into the ground until his back hit a large tree branch.

The pain of his backside and ankle was nothing. Physical pain was nothing, especially if there already was an even stronger pain residing in his heart. He had been a fool for being too trusting, for believing too easily. Leaving the city of Ur had him leaving most of his anger, his bitterness behind. Why did Ace choose to forget that he was in the middle of a crisis—that his home was under the rule of a heartless king? The hand resting on his chest turned into a fist.

A part of Ace's brain wanted to reason with him. It wanted to say that Marco never really lied. He never admitted that he wasn't the guardian of the elixir, because Ace never asked. How stupid was he, really? He was trying to defend Marco's ambiguous answers, grasping on the probability that perhaps Marco had never done anything wrong, that his running away was a sordid mistake.

No matter what he did or think now, the facts had been laid down the table.

He needed the elixir of life to save his family.

He needed to get past the phoenix in order to claim the elixir.

And the phoenix happened to be Marco, as confusing as that fact was to Ace.

He sincerely hoped Marco was joking, but he doubted it. The man never joked.

When clenching his hands to fists were not enough of an emotional outlet, Ace started hitting the branch he was previously sitting back on. Every hit was stronger than the last. The ache of his hands distracted him, made him forget his current concerns. He did not stop, even as he felt his hands get slippery with what he assumed was his blood.

The moon decided to come out tonight, shedding light to the grim atmosphere of the forest. Ace frowned because the moon never shone this brightly back in Ur. He finally halted when the light appeared to be getting brighter.

He turned around and gasped. It was not the moon that lighted up the place.

At first, Ace thought it was white light as he squinted and tried to get accustomed to the brightness, but when his eyes finally cooperated, he was wrong. Cerulean and bright yellow flames flickered around the flying figure of what seemed like a giant fowl. It was the largest flying … thing that Ace had ever laid eyes on. The flying bird was taller, soaring above Ace's head, but if it were on the ground, Ace was sure the height difference was not that large.

A feeling he could not identify tugged at his gut at the sight of the creature, but Ace ignored it.

He started when he saw the bird's eyes. He would know those heavy-lidded eyes wherever he went.

"Marco?" The bird's eyes shone with regret, never looking away as it descended. "H-how?" was all he managed.

Ace looked down below, at Marco's—his phoenix's form's—feet, and his mouth fell open when the plants did not catch fire. How?

Marco simply kept looking at him with regretful eyes. Ace was struck by the thought that speech was impossible for Marco in this form. So why was he still a bird? Couldn't he go back to his human form?

"You can't go back to being human?" Ace voiced it out, raising one of his bloodied hands to gesture to Marco's phoenix form.

Marco noticed the state of his hands and made a sound like a gasp—although it sounded odd on a bird. He closed the distance between them, looking up at Ace's face for reassurance. Ace gulped and nodded, not knowing why he was nervous.

Marco raised one of his flaming wings. Ace flinched, taking a step back. It was a bad move as his feet betrayed him and he tripped. He saw the world tilt out of place until it didn't, and his eyes widened when the outstretched wing was now cradling his bare back, having saved him from the fall. But what amazed him the most was the lack of even the barest heat on his skin.

Slowly, Marco's wing glided upward. It felt smooth and fluffy, like silky feathers. The wing prodded him down to sit, and he did. Marco towered over him, bright and large. He bowed his head closer to Ace's face. Ace realized a moment too late that Marco's wings held his hands somehow. Slightly befuddled about what Marco wanted to do, Ace looked to the phoenix's all-too familiar eyes.

Ace gulped down audibly when he saw moisture, and then Marco was crying, his tears dripping from his eyes, to his beak, and down to Ace's hands.

"Marco, what—" What are you doing, Marco? He never completed because more tears were coming out, falling faster to his hands, and it gave Ace a pang in the chest. He could not imagine Marco, in human form, to be the type to easily shed tears, yet his phoenix form had cried as much tears as Ace had cried in his lifetime.

Perhaps this was Marco asking for penance. If it was, this was the worst method to ask for forgiveness, in Ace's frank opinion.

Finally, the tears stopped, and Marco drew back, his wings leaving Ace's body completely. Ace's hands were soaked with the tears. They must have looked cleaned by now what with the amount of water that went through them.

A sharp intake of breath that Ace almost didn't realize as his own resounded as he lifted his hands, his now flawless hands. They were indeed cleansed of blood, but the cuts and bruises that couldn't be possibly washed away were gone, too. He opened his mouth and closed them again.

"H-how?" Ace managed at last.

There was no reply. Not that Ace expected one since Marco was currently a bird. Instead, Marco turned around, his back facing Ace before lowering himself to the ground. It took a while for Ace to understand.

"You want me to ride on your back?" Ace asked, appalled.

Marco made a cry of agreement, or that was what Ace told himself before he slowly inched towards the fiery back and, after a moment's hesitation, climbed on it. Despite the lack of a high temperature, the flames were moving and tickling Ace a little. He gripped the feathers with enough force, and without warning, air whooshed around them, and they were flying.

Ace yelped, his grip tightening. The phoenix's back was the opposite of comfort, considering that he felt he would fall after every downward flap of Marco's wings. It was a short ride, but a scary one nonetheless. Ace realized that he had run a little too far when Marco landed back to their camp for the night.

Once Ace was back on the ground, blinding, white light prevented him from further action. Suddenly, the phoenix was gone, the light around dimming, and the friend he knew stood in its place.

"I am sorry, Ace. Please don't run away again. Here me out," was what Marco said once Ace's eyes refocused.

"I'm listening."

Marco sighed. "As I've told you, I am the phoenix. But that's not all. I'm the elixir of life as well, Ace."

If Ace thought nothing would surprise him more than Marco being the phoenix, he was dead wrong. "W-what? But—the drink?"

"It is beyond me how the story of the elixir of life came as it were, but my tears, as you've seen, possess healing properties. Perhaps that is what they seek. Or perhaps if they drank the blood running in my veins, they would become immortal, too."

Ace's breath hitched, the words that spilled out of Marco creating a series of revolting images in his mind's eye. He shuddered and shook off the illusion of Marco in his human form sprawled dead on the floor, his blood spattered everywhere.

"What do you mean?" Ace had an inkling of Marco's implication as bits of their conversation replayed in his head.

"Haven't heard the tales about the phoenix yet, Ace? I am an immortal bird. A servant of the sun."

Ace remembered something in passing from Marco's tales, about the legendary creature the Egyptians had built a temple in honor of. The creature, granted immortality by the sun, devoted its days to sing magnificent songs. Once its days came near, it would go to Egypt to burn and be reborn from the ashes.

"It's you," Ace whispered, his eyes wide.

Marco sighed again and dropped his gaze to the ground. Ace felt like plopping down, as well, and he did, all the while trying to wrap the new information around his head.

"What do I do?" Ace asked. "What should I tell them?"

"The truth," Marco said quickly, snapping Ace's gaze to him. Determination shone in Marco's face. "You will tell them the truth. You will bring me to them, as planned."

"What? Tell me you are joking this time, Marco." He couldn't be serious?!

"I'm not. Ace, it's the only way to save your family." That silenced Ace from any other argument his mind could conjure. "I just have one question, Ace." Burning and piercing, that was what Marco's eyes looked like as they pinned Ace to the ground. "Do you forgive me?"

He knew the answer deep down. "Yes."

A relieved, small smile graced Marco's lips. "Then I surrender."

---

They left the oasis the morning after the next after replenishing their supplies and coming back for Spade. Ace refused to bind Marco since he reasoned that the man had agreed to come on his own. His subconscious was protesting, too, saying that binding Marco was wrong, very wrong.

The birds tried to attack Ace when they were about to leave, making Marco step up and send them away. He was in his human form, but the birds still recognized him and followed his command. It was then that Ace figured out that Marco was practically their king.

He wanted to know how it happened, how Marco could become human. He wanted to ask what Marco meant about being the only one of his kind, about the extent of his phoenix abilities.

But he didn't. Remembering where they were headed rendered him speechless.

The day passed quickly. Ace observed the setting sun from the dunes. For some reason, the sun looked gloomy today, but that might be his imagination. Perhaps not. He was taking the phoenix away from the sun, after all.

Ace had been walking ahead of Marco, alone. He let Marco travel with Spade. It was obvious the man was not used to traveling the desert. They had a brief conversation in the morning, but the heat of the desert made talking impossible. They had to conserve their energy.

He looked back and watched as Marco wiped the sweat on his forehead. The phoenix from the other night appeared in his mind's eye and a vague memory tugged in his mind. A memory about the desert, a fox, and a flash of blue bird—

The realization made him freeze.

"Is something wrong?" Marco asked, noticing his stiff posture.

This man had saved his life twice.

"Marco!" Ace ran towards him, grasping the shoulders tightly once he was near. "You saved my life back then, didn't you? That night in the desert near Ur—the fox!"

Marco's brows were furrowed in bewilderment. "What are you ta—" He froze, and Ace felt exalted when comprehension dawned on Marco. "You're that boy."

Ace nodded, his grip tightening. "I saw you before I knew you. Did you know how many people laughed at me, accused me of lying? They never believed in you."

Marco gave a smile, placing his hands over Ace's. "Soon they will."

And with those words, Ace's happiness from his discovery shattered.

"Marco," he started.

A part of his mind was telling him this was how it should be, that giving Marco up to King Teach was the right thing to do. Because of Marco, he would be able to see his parents again. The other part of his mind denounced this decision, saying that Marco was innocent, that Marco would be the one to suffer in Ace's stead, even though the man had surrendered voluntarily to him. He was sending Marco to his possible demise, and Ace couldn't understand why Marco was letting him.

Was that how deep Marco treasured their bond?

Apart from guilt, Ace felt nauseous because he was about to betray Marco. It would be silly to hold onto his grudge about Marco keeping secrets. He had done that too. Everyone had secrets they couldn't and wouldn't tell. The image of Marco's battered body came into mind again, and he almost retched.

He had to make a choice before it was too late.

Marco or King Teach?

It wasn't a choice in the first place. There was never a gray scale between Marco and King Teach. Teach was pure evil; Marco was not. How could Ace not understand that sooner?

But if he chose Marco, he would be abandoning his family, his city.

"I want to choose you, Marco. I really do," Ace said with as much sincerity as he could. "But my family—I can't abandon the people I left behind. I don't have a choice, and I … I hate myself for it." His knees touched the ground, hands following suit as waves of guilt and helplessness drowned him. He hated feeling like this, but he had no choice. That was it. No. Choice.

He was powerless. He had nothing to oppose King Teach.

"You have me." Marco sounded like he had heard Ace's thoughts. The sand crunched beside Ace and Marco was putting a comforting arm around his shoulders. "I can help you, Ace. I am the phoenix, the king of all winged creatures. I am the elixir of life, immortal, the most coveted of all mankind. Just say a word, and I will aid you."

The sureness, the sincerity that Marco always had, was present that Ace had a hard time questioning Marco's intentions. Marco really wanted to help him, and an odd sensation flared up in his chest. He wanted to know one thing, though.

Ace lifted his head, his eyes locking on Marco's. Ace had half a mind to pull back because of the little space between their faces but no matter. "Why, Marco? Why did you let me capture you? Why do you want to help me? Why do you keep helping me?"

Why?

Marco never looked away as he carefully withdrew his hand from Ace's shoulder, only to cup Ace's cheek. Ace found himself leaning to the touch, feeling strangely comforted as the burning in his chest grew wilder. He couldn't hear anything aside from the loud beating of his heart.

The space between them lessened until there was no more. Ace closed his eyes as his mind registered softness and warmth. Kissing Marco made him feel like a burning charcoal, the way the heat inside him became too much, too intense. He never kissed anybody before Marco, but he bet this feeling, this surreal feeling, could only happen with Marco.

They broke apart, their gasps filling the air. Ace clutched Marco's shoulders for support, and Marco leaned his forehead against Ace's.

Then he realized. Marco had become an important figure in his life, too. He was important enough that Ace couldn't make a decision he wouldn't regret.

"I'm sorry," Ace whispered once his breathing evened out.

Marco caressed his face. "There's nothing to apologize for. Let me help you, Ace. Let me stay by your side and protect you."

A flush colored his face, and Ace smiled. "Of course."

---

Of all things, Ace never figured that Marco would choose a confrontation with Teach. Even though he reminded Marco several times of Teach's cruelty, Marco seemed convinced that he could persuade Teach to leave Ur. If things went awry, Marco assured him that he had another plan up his sleeve.

They traveled for a long time, savoring their limited time together. Dusk was around the corner when Ace spotted the faint lights that made up the city of Ur. Suddenly, Marco turned to Spade, caressing its back before he stood back. Ace watched as Spade galloped towards the city on its own.

When he turned to ask Marco what that was all about, Marco had transformed into his phoenix form and was making Ace climb on his back again. Marco gave a loud cry that resonated around them before taking off into the night.

Ace marveled at the view of the clouds and the stars above them. It was like floating on a dream. If it weren't for the almost painful whooshing of air and the frightening distance between them and the ground, it would've been a perfect dream.

They were finally above the city. He felt warm and happy that he was home, but it quickly vanished when he directed Marco to the palace where Teach was.

As they neared, Ace was hit by a feeling of unease. The last time he talked with Teach, swords clashed and he almost died. This was not going to end well.

Marco seemed calm, confident, though. Perhaps it was a phoenix trait. Or perhaps he had more supernatural powers he hadn't revealed.

No one save for a couple of stunned guards were around when they landed inside the front gates. Ace understood their reactions all too well. They tried to surround Marco and Ace, but failed when the phoenix cried out, its flames ablaze. Ace scrambled down before the inevitable white light blinded him, and a human Marco was soon steadying him to his feet.

"I would like to have a word with your king," Marco said, loud and clear. The guards were too stunned, some having fallen down in shock, the others backing away.

"What is all this?" The palace doors opened and the person they were seeking came out along with his entourage of heavily guarded soldiers. They were quick to point their swords and axe at Marco and Ace. "Farm boy! Good to see you alive and back before the deadline!" Ace froze because the deadline had fled his mind.

Teach was eyeing Marco with manic interest. "And who is this with you? My men told me you came down here with a great, flaming bird."

"I am Marco, the phoenix," Marco interjected, before Ace could.

"You're the phoenix?!" Ace was surprised to see some of the confidence waver in Teach's eyes. "Verify this, Van Auger!"

"S-sire?"

"He can't because no one discovered my identity until Ace did. Listen to me well, mortal. I heard of your tyrannical rule in this land and that is enough to say you are undeserving of your post. Leave now and never return." Marco's tone was cold.

Teach gave an amused laugh. "And who are you to command me, a king?"

Marco raised a brow. "I am a king, as well. And even if I was not, I suggest you pay heed to my words. If you don't surrender your post, there are ten thousand of my kind and my friends waiting by the edge of your city. They will follow my command and are ready to rampage on this land." Ace's eyes widened and he craned his neck to the south as if he could see through the mist and verify Marco's threat.

Teach's lip curled into a snarl. "How dare you!" His glare shifted to Ace. "And you, Roger's son! I will have your mother and father executed before you can say no!" No! Ace glared back, but the crazed eyes had moved back to Marco. "I will leave in one condition. Hand over the elixir of life that I know you protect, phoenix."

"The elixir of life is not to be handed to a sick mortal like you. Not that you can steal it from me anyway, for I am the elixir. To be specific, my tears are the so-called elixir of life."

If they were in a less perilous situation, Ace would have laughed at Teach's disbelieving face. "What—you lie! Hand over the elixir! Hand it over, I say!"

"No matter how many times you say that, I cannot for I am the elixir."

An evil glint flashed before Teach's eyes. "Then hand yourself over, and we have a bargain."

"If you think I would hand myself over to you, then you are wrong." Marco's tone sounded impatient. "I have the upper hand, mortal. Surrender."

Teach glared before he met Van Auger's awaiting stare and then Ace's surprised ones.

Before Ace could react, a spear was soaring his way before everything became blue. The ground vanished from his feet, and he was standing on the walls of the palace.

"What—" Marco flew down beside him, protecting him from the flying spears and arrows. An alarmed cry came out of the phoenix, and Ace panicked, thinking that Marco was injured. But no, the phoenix was all right, the spears burning to ashes—how did that happen?—as they collided with Marco's body.

Marco made that sound again, nudging Ace's chest, and Ace finally understood that Marco was telling him to run, to escape to a safer place. That was obviously not happening.

"Marco, I can fight. Let me fight, all right? Trust me." He held the beak in his hands and looked Marco in the eye. After some time, Marco nodded. Ace grinned.

The phoenix took off to join his kind soaring above the palace. Ace wondered when they had arrived. He watched as vultures swooped down as a group and clawed the eyes of ten soldiers below. It was entrancing. It was bloodshed, but this was what they needed. A rebellion.

The sun's first rays peeked out of the sand mountains on the eastern horizon, bathing the battlefield in a yellow glow. A human shriek alerted him of the presence of another man on the wall with him. He had a spear and was wielding it on Ace's direction.

Ace deftly avoided the first plunge, his hands gripping the man's before he brought his knee up and knocked the air out of his opponent. The man dropped to the ground with a groan, and Ace stole the spear from him. He quickly ran to the direction of the stairs and clashed with another soldier. This time, he traded the spear for a sword.

Once he was back on even ground, he shielded a blow with his borrowed blade to save a deer. Again, how and when had the deer arrived here? Looking around, the palace was filled of a variety of animals, and not just the birds. In his moment of distraction, his opponent kicked him until he was on his back. The sword glinted as it was raised above him, and Ace struggled hard. Before the sword could come down, a pair of eagles intervened and distracted his opponent enough to stick his own weapon to the man's gut.

He scrambled to his feet, whipping his head to find an enemy when he spotted Teach coming his way with a sword. Ace exhaled a breath and raised his sword in preparation for a fight he had anticipated for so long.

"I send you on behalf of Ur, and you come back a traitor," Teach sneered.

"If I came back and handed Marco to you, you would be the traitor not I," Ace spat.

A smirk played on Teach's lips. "True. I never intended to rule over Ur forever. I intend to rule the world! With the phoenix's power, I would've done just that! But you—a farm boy!—stole that dream from me." Teach pointed his sword forward, towards Ace. "Now you will pay."

Ace was shocked to find out that Teach was stronger than he looked. The force of the first collision of swords had him staggering back. Teach wore a sadistic grin, lunging forward with a shout. Barely managing to defend himself, Ace stepped back again, cursing when Teach followed with a flick of a sword.

It ended up with him on his back, again, and he rolled out of the way when Teach's sword plunged from above. Before he could stand, a weight had descended on his back, pushing him down the ground.

"Ugh," Ace exclaimed as he turned his head sideways just in time to see Teach's outstretched hand. Ace cried out when the bastard grabbed his hair and smashed his head down with shocking force. Then he was rolling again after being kicked in the side. He groaned as searing pain erupted.

Teach was cackling. "You are just a farmer, boy. A worthless farmer playing a worthless role in this world." Ace squinted a little from the light coming off the sword, his hands feeling around for his own weapon. His heart raced tenfold when the metal came rushing down—

He relaxed when a flash of cerulean kicked Teach away from him. Marco came to his rescue once more. Ace should have known.

Marco's eyes were scolding as Ace glanced up. He couldn't help smiling in apology.

An enraged cry captured their attention. Teach was back on his feet, sword ready. Marco wasted no time engaging him in a fight. After realizing that his sword was now lost, Ace stood back up unsteadily, grimacing at the throbbing pain in his head. He knew the right thing to do was to search for a new weapon, but the pleas of Teach made him forget. Ace's eyes widened as Teach sat defenseless in front of Marco. The bastard was facing Ace, and he met Ace's eyes. The hatred quickly turned into smugness, confusing him.

"I win, phoenix! Kill the boy!" Teach yelled at someone in Ace's direction, someone behind Ace.

At first, it did not register—the pain. Ace had turned around, wide-eyed, to see who Teach was screaming at. But before he could, something fast and sharp hit his back. He looked back and saw a soldier a few feet away from him, holding up an empty bow.

Which meant—

He never finished the thought. Another fast and sharp thing came, this time on his chest. Then the discomfort increases until fire raged inside, threatening to smother his body. Ace gasped, regretting the action when the fire turned into an inferno. He didn't know when he had fallen, but he was seeing the battles from a low angle. And when did the sun disappear? His vision was growing darker.

Wet. Suddenly, there was water dripping down his face. Ace blearily opened his eyes and there was it again, the sight of Marco crying for him. It sent his already burning heart ablaze. Marco shouldn't cry, because crying meant someone was in pain. And Ace might have been forgetting why Marco was an exception, but he sincerely hoped Marco would stop.

There was a strangled cry from Marco. Ace frowned, wanting to touch him but his hand was too heavy at the moment. He was getting really sleepy; he hoped Marco would not mind if he slept.

Even with eyes closed, he was aware when Marco had left him. He battled with his eyelids, wanting to see if it was true. Somehow, he was sitting up, resting against something he couldn't identify. But it was true; Marco was gone.

Where is he?

Ace searched until he felt something wet dripping down his forehead, his brows, and finally his eyes, obscuring his sight. He closed his eyes and blinked hard in an attempt to see a surreal image: the king being attacked by thousands of birds, his pained sobs echoing in the air.

He spotted Marco flying above him, and he heard a surprisingly pleasant song.

He wondered how he managed to hear it above the noise of the war, bird cries, and the king's painful screams.

His sight was blocked by the liquid. He closed his eyes once more.

And he wasn't able to open them again.