Notes: Okay, to explain this a bit. This fic takes place around 2000 B.C.E when the Assyrians (better known as the Babylonians from their capital city) take over the Sumerians, the people that pretty much invented everything we know. Sadly, they weren't that great of warriors, and the Assyrians had the cheat of Chariots. Anyways, Cloud is a young Sumerian marching to battle with Angeal leading the way to meet a large Babylonian troupe that is being lead by Sephiroth and Zack.

There is also the matter of Egypt. For anyone that doesn't know, Egypt used to be divided in half and called Upper Egypt (actually located in the south), and Lower Egypt (located in the north). Lower Egypt is very fertile since it has a swampy delta which means there land is much more arable.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters. All are property of Square Enix. I make no profit from this fiction, I wrote it for reading enjoyment.

Summary: Cloud is a young Sumerian soldier and Sephiroth is a Babylonian commander. When Cloud is taken captive, he does something unusual that spirals into something unheard of-love between two men. Sephiroth/Cloud

Author: Darksinokaru

Story: 2000 BCE

Pairing (s): Sephiroth/Cloud, Angeal/Zack

Rating: M

2,000 B.C.E.

Mesopotamia is a hot, arid, and humid place located in the Ancient Middle-East. It was pure, dry desert that took laborious hours to till and farm with massive irrigation projects always being deployed. But, in the south (in a place often referred to as Sumer), nestled between two rivers is one of the greatest peoples of all-the Sumerians. The Sumerians had developed the first of many things, and even had their hay day, but by 2350 B.C.E things began to rapidly decay from warfare and strife between the many city-states of Sumer. Then a new threat arrived-the Akkhadians. The Sumerian people were conquered, but when the Akkhadian empire fell, like many do, the Sumerians had a period of Renaisaance. However, it was short lived, for now, the Assyrians (more popularly known as Babylonians from their famous capital Babylonia) with their new fighting technology and weaponry, have begun to invade. It is now around 2000 B.C.E and this is where our story takes place.

A large troupe of brown leather clad soldiers armed with spears and arched swords moved on behind their revolutionary battle instrument-the chariot. The men trekked forward in no particular organization, though a great many of them were clustered around one individual, their commander-Sephiroth. The shockingly silver-headed man had been a noble's son placed into the professional army (as many nobles were), and through growing up became well known for his power, agility, and wit. There was no such thing as rank; the men were simply instructed by one of their priests to do what Sephiroth told them to, since it was believed that Sephiroth could lead whatever troupe he was in charge of-to victory. Sephiroth was widely respected and even had the honor of eating a meal with their divine king, Hammurabi.

"Wooh boy, those chariots are pretty nice huh?" Zack, a very close second to Sephiroth in ability, grinned amongst the chuckling men, some many years his senior, and some much younger. Zack was well liked among the others, and even adored-though not quite as revered and even feared as Sephiroth. He was kind, caring, but still aggressive and "mean" when he needed to be, in other words-battle. He was like a brother to each and every soldier. Unlike Sephiroth who tended to be aloof most of the time, but during battle he was very engaged and led well.

"Yeah! We gonna kick'm wer it hurtz." Zack patted his fellow soldier on the back; Sephiroth suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"You know it!" Zack agreed.

"Sumerian bitches!"

"My wife hits hardere'n them!"

"My dog eats Sumerian guts for breakfast!" The men all burst into crude laughter. Sephiroth remained as stoic as ever as he moved forward.

Amongst the small, desperately formed soldier troupe that consisted of those too old, too young, and unprepared, one stuck out from the rest for his smaller stature and bright spiky blonde hair. These attacks from those damned Assyrians had greatly depleted the last city, Ur's resources, people and weapons both, and even food was short from a current drought. Some were armed with decent weapons, but most were armed with badly crafted ones or imported rocks carved to points for lack of everything else. These people were poorly trained, scared, in mourning of those lost, or angry with the Gods for doing this to them, though they would never display such a thing should the Gods call upon another great flood.

This one boy with his strange hair dressed in leather armor clutched his stone knife stashed into his belt. Raising unprepared, terrified blue eyes to the great Ziggurat as he left the city, Cloud prayed one last time that the Gods would help him, even just a little. But knowing the Gods, they'd impale him on a spear just for kicks, seeing as how the Gods were fickle, capricious, cruel spirited things. Cloud touched the wide-eyed, praying votive figure he had strapped to his armor in his belt and closed his eyes. He was barely sixteen springs! There was only one other person here younger than him, but not by much. He was still learning cuneiform! He didn't even have a wife yet! It was strange that Cloud had so much trouble trying to pick one, they all either didn't seem to like him or were completely out of his reach, so Cloud kept rejecting them. But Cloud wanted to have at least one child before he died. It was an honor after all. Instead, he would most likely die with nothing. Cloud wished he'd been a craftsman's son, not a noble's.

"I know some of you are young, but you're men! Every one of you! Now we must fight to retain our city and please the Gods!" The man who faced them with a hard expression and a thin scar across his face was met with a silent, fearful applause. His eyes were hard and concerned, but expression was firm. His long shoulder length black hair was the proper color of a Sumerian, unlike Cloud's unnatural yellow. His eyes were dark, and steely now, but Cloud knew them to be soft and warm when inside the city walls.

"Let's move! The closer they come, the more danger the city is in! We cannot disappoint Gods anymore!" Angeal, as Cloud had learned him to be called, turned to face the front and drew his sword. Striking it above his head, he shouted to move, and the troupe began to watch. Cloud believed, it to be to their deaths.

As Cloud stared up at Angeal's back, he saw the resolve and solidness of his form. He was powerful, well knowledgeable, probably the only one here with battle experience. Staring at Angeal's back, Cloud felt a wave of inspiration and hardened his gaze and gripped his dagger. He would be strong and fight. If he died, then Cloud could do his best to die in honor.

Cloud recalled the small bit of training that had been rushed into him before they'd left. Really, it had been poor exercises that had just been thrown into his face. And Cloud was at a serious disadvantage because he his only weapon was a small flint dagger. But Cloud supposed he could use his size and speed to his advantage, but he was still at a much higher risk than the others.

The Nile was as fruitful and strong as ever. The land was nourished and was already being tilled for the growing of crops. Lower Egypt was a very fertile plain, seeing as a great deal of it was located on the marshy delta.

A tall foreigner walked casually among the workers, the fine pure white fabric of his shenti almost seemed to glow. His sandals were made of finely made reeds, his powerful chest bare, and his left arm adorned a gold bangle, an ever-present sign of the king. The redheaded foreigner walked along the farming fields, keeping a watchful eye on the peasants at work. He had been called upon by the king of Lower Egypt to see how the year's farming was going. Personally, the man in question thought it tedious and boring. He glanced out at the Nile and out the green surrounding it. It looked like heaven, which was what had drawn him to this place to begin with. However, he learned the hard way the dangers of the Nile. She had a very adept way in protecting herself. The crocodiles were ruthless, more of a hazard than anything he'd ever some across.

Not to mention he was irritated with the King ignoring his suggestions to build up his army more. Genesis; was the man's name, and he had rode south to Upper Egypt, as he often did to keep an eye on the southerners, and found that the king there was building up his army. Genesis was a distrusting person by nature, and so when he saw this, he knew a battle was coming. The Egyptians were just too careless.

Genesis himself was from Mesopotamia, and knew full well what hell was like by continuous warfare and strife. Genesis much preferred things here anyway though, despite the fact that he was often bored. It annoyed him sometimes to think that the brutal, warring nature of his homeland had taken root in him too. Things only got better when Genesis finally mastered the hieroglyphs of the Egyptians, and was thus able to spend his time reading when he was getting bored. But there were still things that reading couldn't help with. It was too easy here, too easy to get into service of the king, to easy to be welcomed. The only difficult part he had ever encountered on his journey was simply surviving the travel across that merciless dessert and finding out the secret the Nile kept.

"How is it?" The King, Amen-hotep, asked and Genesis stood respectfully with his left foot forward before kneeling at the throne.

"The ground is moist and being tilled even now as we speak. I suspect it will be another good harvest." The king smiled and reclined in his seat.

"That's good. The God's have greatly favored us over our southern brothers. I'm sure we will be fine." Genesis inwardly sneered at the placid expression on the man's face. In a way, Genesis hoped the southerners would come and overthrow Amen-hotep.

'Amen is pleased with me my ass.'

Scribes, and servants fled from the redheaded man as he exited the small palace. Everyone was already accustomed to his behavior enough to know when to avoid the warrior.

'I am a warrior. I am not a boy messenger! I can't wait for Narmer to attack. It will give me an excuse to blow off some steam.'

Cloud stood firm in his troupe when they came to a stop. Some men quivered, others were too eager, but Cloud was calm, as was Angeal. For down the way, though not clear, they could see the massive army of their enemy. Cloud was willing to bet some wanted to run, but out of fear of pissing the God's off, they stayed put. Cloud himself was feeling a little weak in the knees but he wasn't going to let a little quiver stop him. They were out manned, miserably equipped, and poorly trained. They were heading for their death.

"This will most likely be our last battle for many of us. Let us fight and die with honor. With Sumerian pride!"

Angeal drew his sword.

Okay, all done. I'm a history major, and I absolutely love the Ancient Middle East, the first civilizations. So I pulled together all my studying and did a little bit of research for minor things I didn't know. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed.

Okay! Notes!

Ziggurat: Ziggurat's are Sumerian temples. They're massive and made of mud-brick, since the Sumerian's had very little stone.

Votive Figures: Votive figures are carving of humans with wide-open eyes and hand closed in prayer. The Sumerian's were pessimists because of how impossible it was to live where they did, and life was very hard. They believed their Gods to be capricious and fickle and that they loved to toy with their humans. Sumerian's couldn't spend all day praying for the Gods, so they began carving statues in that position to say pretty much, that even though they weren't at the temple, they were still praying, constantly.

Ur: Ur was a great Sumerian city. Huge and influential. The Sumerians organized themselves as city-states like the Greeks.

Chariots: I think we all know what chariots are.

Cuneiform: The very first form of writing! Developed by the Sumerians! It's usually written into clay tablets when wet (they didn't have any kind of paper, no ingredients for it), and then fired.

Shenti: It's that white skirt that we always see Egyptians wearing.

Amen-hotep: It literally mean Amen (the God), is pleased with me.