a/n: inspired by the short "memento" I did for eclectic creme. So, same Sparrow, FYI.

chapter 1: Into the Realm of the Sun

Barely midmorning, and already the world was on fire. The air shimmered and danced as it pleased, occasionally teased by a breeze that had the inhabitants of this most desolate of places wrapped around its metaphysical finger. The sands so fine and smooth were awash in a stain of blood, burnt permanently into the landscape through the ages that became invisible once night fell. When that happened, when the sun fell below the horizon and all was covered in rich layers of seeming velvet, the desert became another beast entirely.

But night had yet to fall, and the day had barely begun. Looking ahead by looking back, it was going to be a long, sweat-soaked day indeed.

"Bloody hell Reaver, I think I'm going to melt!"

Said pirate sighed, squinting over at the whining Hero riding beside him. "Do stop complaining Sparrow, unless you're trying to add to the hot air supply."

"Ha, ha, ha." The gypsy rolled his eyes and switched the giant plumed hand fan he'd 'acquired' from one hand to the other. "You know, I don't know how these whatchamacallems don't roast where they stand, covered in fur and carrying our sorry arses across a bleeding desert."

"They're called camels, for the twentieth time, and as I've already explained to you, they're acclimated to this climate. And before you mention horses, again, those are not."

Sparrow patted his camel, whom he'd christened Clark because it was the closest thing to the beast's real name he could pronounce. "I'm quite over horses, aren't I Clark? Yes I am! You're my new favorite mode of transportation! Horses can't spit at people you don't like, can they? No they can't!"

"Are you going to keep this up much longer? Because if you are, I may just have to bid your dear Clark an early departure."

"Aw, is the sun making you cranky Reaver?"

"Oh good heavens no! After all, that's what the ridiculous outfits are for!" He flapped a baggy sleeve in Sparrow's general direction. Granted, the loose fabrics did breathe much better than anything he would have chosen to wear, but that didn't mean he had to be civil about it in the slightest.

"Soooooo, yes, yes it is….Are we there yet?"

"Does it look like it?" He gestured grandly to the area around them, jagged cliff walls still towering above them signaling they had yet to hit the desert proper.

Sparrow groaned, momentarily falling forward to lay face down against Clark's shaggy neck. "lkandf jgalkdnghi?"

"Scarlet."

"Wha?" The gypsy had turned his face just enough to unobstruct his mouth hole.

"The answer to whatever it was you just asked me."

"Scarlet?"

"Yes."

The Hero was quiet, obviously running through all the possibilities in his head, until finally: "You didn't actually hear what I asked, did you."

"Oh I heard it. Understood it, however, I did not."

Sparrow grunted, still propped listlessly against poor Clark. "I asked if you're sure about this."

"If I wasn't do you really think I would be out here?"

The gypsy shrugged. "I dunno. I've seen you do weirder things on a whim you didn't particularly care about. And those things didn't require dragging me out into the middle of nowhere to sweat my bleeding arse off."

"You didn't have to come you know."

"Ri-ght. Just like I didn't have to cook that dog you accidently shot-"

"That doesn't count."

"You practically shoved your gun up my nose and demanded it!"

"I wasn't going to shoot you-"

"Just because you were too drunk to remember how to work a gun doesn't mean you wouldn't have tried!"

"Did I? Try, that is, to shoot you?"

"Weell no-"

"Exactly. You didn't have to do anything."

"Unless I didn't value my life, which you 'saved' from the monster that also happened to be some hobo's pet. That we then ate, because you were hungry but didn't want to eat 'foreign beggar slop' as you called it."

He chuckled. "And good times were had by all."

Sparrow clicked his tongue. "Good times for all, cept the dog. And now us who are riding out into the middle of a bleedin' desert because of some stupid bar rumor-"

"I'll have you know I cross checked my sources carefully-"

"You sound like Hammer, you know that right? S'how she used to get her information, get smashed at some bar and talk up the local drunks."

Reaver inwardly shuddered at the comparison, yet unfortunately had to roll with it to prove his own point of rightness. "Yes, but look at the good she managed to acquire for you? After all if I recall the story correctly, that's how she came across moi, is it not?"

"Yea, but remember that time not long after we met that I was fully intent on murdering you?"

"Oh yes, and I remember how unjust it was as well-"

"You tricked me into sacrificing my youth and beauty for you to those creepy blokes."

"Yes, but you got better, even before you made it back to my manor, if I recall."

"Besides the point!"

"Not at all 'besides the point' love."

"It's besides the point of us going out to die in the desert because some guy told you about a temple that may or may not exist dedicated to a being that 'far surpasses us in intellect and power'. Just because you're a greedy, gullible bastard doesn't mean you have to drag me along too."

Reaver pretended to pout. "But who else would I share the spoils of my adventures with? Garth is boring, Hammer is an annoying prude, and all of my wonderful minions are either dead or off hiding from my impending wrath."

"Bloody freakin' hell Reaver, we better find something damned good or I'm going to have to start hanging out with Hammer again."

"But why on earth would you want to?"

"I used to hang out with her all the time you know."

"Yes, and I forgive you for that, you didn't know any better."

Sparrow chuckled. "You're such a wanker, y'know?"

"No, I don't believe I do. However, I do know that we've finally made it to the desert proper."

Sparrow pulled himself back into a sitting position in order to take in their surroundings. "Wow. That, is a lot of sand…."

And truly it was, as far as either of them could see there was nothing but sparkling sand dunes, textured in ripples that reminded Reaver of the finest silks set out for show at the bazaar in Aurora.

"If we hurry, we can make the temple before the night is out." As the words left his lips he kicked his mount into a trot, not only cutting off anything snarky Sparrow might have had to say, but punctuating his words nicely as well.

"Oi! Wait up git!"

Within minutes Sparrow had managed to race Clark up to Reaver's side, the two of them breaking out into laughter as their mounts flew gracefully down the side of the dune they'd crested. The wind whipping their clothes and hair felt marvelous, making it much easier to ignore the grit hitting against their exposed bits.

"Hey Reaver!" Sparrow's voice rose easily above the sound of rushing wind and hoof beats. "What do you think the odds are, of being able to find a Sandgoose?"

The sun rose with the grace and dignity of a prince, the sands bowing and quivering beneath its silent gaze. At midday, when the blazing ruler of the sky was as distant as it was overpowering, all beings retreated from its presence to take shelter beneath the sands. All save for the riders and their mounts traversing the heart of the unclaimed jewel. Breezy linens stained with sweat and crusted with errant sand hanging heavy and limp in the still air, for no breeze dared contend against the Sun and its hold over the kingdom. Man and beast alike choking on stale, viscous air as their skin wept precious fluids into the greedy waste floor. Each in their own way counting the seconds until that greatest of tormentors fell below the horizon. And thus, as is the way of things, it did.

"What the hell is wrong with this place? It's freezing! It shouldn't be this cold at night, it should be just marginally less balls hot then it was during the day when my skin was melting off! It makes no sense and I don't like it!"

"Do calm down Sparrow, or I'll be forced to cut you open and use your carcass for warmth."

Although it was quite dark, the moon being as thin as it was, Reaver was almost positive Sparrow was giving him a dirty look.

"That's disgusting, why would you do that? How would you do that? Why would you even think of something like that-"

"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you've never heard the story of the man who survived a winter's night after falling in a river by killing, cutting open, and sleeping inside of his horse."

"No, though I can't imagine why. Sounds like something Theresa would have told me before telling me to go to bed before she ties me to a chair and gags me."

"Such a loving relationship the two of you had."

Sparrow bobbed his head absently, trying to balance himself on his mount while curling into the smallest ball of a person possible. "Still don't see why we can't stop and light a fire…"

"The same reason we didn't stop earlier to frolic in the oasis you were convinced existed."

"It doesn't really exist? Because that's a poor excuse Reaver. Pretty sure fire exists."

"I was going for because it might attract unwanted attention."

"Right, well in that case, you think I could fit myself in my bag of endless stuff? " He held up the small, unassuming pouch he'd had as long as Reaver had known him. "I've stuffed more than my weight of things in here before-"

"Perhaps if you can cut yourself up into small enough pieces to fit through the opening."

Sparrow stretched the opening of the pouch thoughtfully. "You know, I never thought of that. What if I got something that was too wide, what then? Obviously Theresa did not think that through when she made this thing with her ninja magic."

Reaver shook his head. Sparrow had, as of late, been of the mind that Theresa was somehow a magician, but only when he wasn't around to see it. Thus, there was no way anyone could disprove his theory. Just as no one could really disprove his theory that Theresa had invented Spam just to torture him as a boy.

Sparrow slumped forward with a grunt, wrapping his arms around Clark's neck and burying his face in the fur there.

"If you should happen to veer off course, I should warn you that I will not, in fact, warn you of such an occurrence."

Sparrow's response was to give the pirate a thumbs up, while at the same time offering over the reins of his steed.

Reaver promptly swatted his hand with the decorative riding crop that had come with the camel.

In his haste to snatch his hand back, the Hero pulled on the reins, Clark responding obediently by veering toward Reaver and his mount.

"Would you pay attention to what you're doing?" Reaver directed his camel to prance out of Clark's way.

"Never ever."

"Of course. Forgive me your majesty."

Laughing, Sparrow whipped himself back into a normal sitting position, now grinning down his nose at a bemused Reaver. "Non-sense, my vessel. I am a loving and benevolent king, who showers wealth upon his peoples-"the gypsy gestured regally with his arm. "And fire upon his enemies." Here, he sent a flash of fire to dance momentarily above their heads. "So that in death, at least they may be warm."

Reaver mock-bowed. "All hail the mighty Gypsy King and his prowess of making sure every bandit with a pair of eyes within twenty miles knows of our location."

"Thank you, thank you!" Sparrow waved to an imaginary crowd, a wolfish grin on his face. "And all regale his mighty gunman, who will shoot out said bandits' eyes before they get within twenty feet of us!"

"You would hope so, wouldn't you?"

"Of course. It's not just my arse I'm endangering with pyrotechnics because I'm bored. I always involve someone else. Out of love, naturally."

"Naturally. On the up side, I do believe that dark blob is our destination." Reaver pointed toward the starless mass of black rising from the horizon. He'd only just realized it was there, well hidden in the dark as it was.

Sparrow stood in his stirrups to get a better look. "Well that doesn't look foreboding at aaaaaaall."

"Where would the fun be if it didn't?"

"Haven't the foggiest. I seem to keep getting roped into going to creepy-ass places by people who like to watch me get jumped by monsters. Don't know what I'd do with myself if I went somewhere unhazardess."

"I would imagine you would make it hazardous for anyone else who happened to be there at the same time. If you recall the incident in Oakfield the other night?" They had found themselves stuck waiting around at the Temple of Light in the middle of the night. Sparrow, bored, had climbed onto the wall of the courtyard and promptly pretended to be a gremlin, scaring the piss out of more than a handful of monks and plebeians alike.

"Don't recall what you're trying to insinuate good sire, and I shant have you slandering me name."

"Oh you don't need my help for that." He chuckled as Sparrow huffed, although Reaver was quite certain the gypsy was hiding a smirk behind his hood.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, the closer the temple got the heavier the air seemed to become. Reaver could feel it tightening around them, the endless, open sky narrowing down to something far too close for his liking. Even the wind tasted different, perceptible too to the animals escorting them over the sands, tossing their heads and grumbling, the sound barely audible but felt well enough as it rumbled through shaggy chests.

"Was it supposed to be this big and creepy?" Sparrow's voice was oddly subdued, the atmosphere of the place not lost on him.

"Considering the place is a ghost tale of sorts, I imagine so yes. You're not scared, are you 'Hero'?"

The gypsy made a derisive noise. "Course not."

"Good. Then there's no point in waiting for morning to venture inside."

"Course not, because that would be the sane thing to do. But nooo, lets venture inside the probably booby-trapped and monster filled desert tomb in the middle of the night while it's pitch black! I've never regretted that one before."

Reaver dismounted, tying his camel to a forlorn pillar off to the side of the decrepit temple entrance. "When was the last time you found yourself in an ancient desert temple?"

Sparrow followed suit. "Never, but Hammer dragged me through the Howling Halls, in the dark. Thanks to bandits and some whiny guy I got to trudge through the Hobbe Caves out in Rookridge, in the dark. You sent me to that decrepit court in Wraithmarsh, which is dark regardless of time of day. Shall I go on?"

"No, that's quite all right. You've bored me enough already."

"Hardy har har."

The entrance way was littered with piles of sand and more than a few animal carcasses. Beyond the threshold of stone lay a darkened hall that had no visible end. The shadowed bodies of rubble could just be made out, the scent of time laced with decay tickling their noses.

"After you, Mon Capitan."