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“I’m really sorry, Ace,” Sabo says, pushing sweaty blonde strands of hair out of his face. Ace notes absently that it’s starting to get too long and they’ll have to hack some of it off when they have time to get around to it. “You know I’d go with you if I could.”
“Nah, it’s fine. You gotta stay with Luffy,” Ace says.
They both glance back at the bedroom door behind them. Ace’s mouth thins as he hears another horrible mucus-ridden cough echo from inside. He can only hope that Luffy won’t throw up again. The kid’s already losing enough fluids as it is, and they’re running dangerously low on drinking water. He’ll probably have to try and get some more to boil from the river tomorrow as well. Just one more thing on the ever increasing list of supplies they’re running low on.
“Shit,” Sabo mutters, looking as helpless and frustrated as Ace feels.
It’s been four days now since Luffy’s illness had started. At first it had just been a sniffle and infrequent cough, but it had rapidly devolved into a perpetual runny nose, chest wracking hacks, and an inability to keep food down. It hadn’t helped that the other had started shivering and shaking as well despite the fact that Sabo and Ace had kept the fire burning pretty much nonstop since the other had taken ill, and he had a fever that never seemed to break no matter how many cool washcloths or lukewarm baths they used.
Luffy’s skin is pale and clammy, and he’s lost an alarming amount of weight in only a few days. Both Ace and Sabo are at their wit’s end trying to find some sort of medicine to help, but the usual mixes of herbs aren’t working and they don’t have anywhere near the funds for better medicine from the city. They don’t want to risk stealing it either, since if they’re caught no one will be able to look after Luffy. All they’ve been able to do is hunker down with Luffy and try and keep the other comfortable while he hopefully burns out his illness.
Well, at least that was all they could do until their stores started running low.
Part of Ace is reluctant to leave while his little brother is still sick, but he knows they need the meat - and more importantly the broth that could be made with the bones - even more. Ace can feel his heart squeezing his chest with every cough and sniffle he hears through the door. It only solidifies his resolve.
“I won’t be long,” Ace says, for both Sabo’s sake and his own.
“Stay safe,” Sabo says, “It’s getting dark earlier.”
And yeah, that’s something that’s been on Ace’s mind as well. The woods around their little old cabin was a place to be cautious in even in the middle of the day. When it was dark outside the danger increased tenfold. As much as they needed the food, Ace wouldn’t be of use to any of them if he ended up dead.
“I know,” Ace says, “I’ll be back in an hour no matter what.”
Sabo nods, “Good luck.”
He heads back into the bedroom with Luffy, and after a few seconds Ace can hear the other muttering words of comfort to their little brother. Ace squints into the darkness, but he can’t see Luffy’s face from where he’s bundled up under all the blankets. Eventually he forces himself to turn away and head toward the door.
His bow and quiver full of arrows are already sitting next to the entryway next to his boots. Ace bundles up in a dirty brown coat that matches most of the foliage outside, laces up his boots, and grabs his weapon. He leaves the cabin slowly, wedging the door behind him shut as tight as possible to keep the warm air inside.
The cool air outside bites at his ears and nose, but Ace has luckily always run hot and he barely notices it. He’s sure he’ll be feeling it in about an hour, but with any luck he’ll be back before then. A glance around reveals nothing out of the ordinary, and as he strains his ears all he can hear is the wind and distant birdsong.
He sets off down the worn path he and his brothers have cut through the woods around them, moving as quietly as possible as he does so. After so many years of living basically on their own in the woods (with only a few infrequent visits a year from their ‘guardians’), Ace knows how to move pretty soundlessly. But the animals of the forest are just as adept at sensing danger. It was a constant push and pull between them and nature, and usually Ace would revel in the challenge of it, but that day all he wants was a quick meal.
The first thing he does is check his snares for any easy prey. Unfortunately with the weather turning colder many animals had already started heading underground to hibernate or moving south as the seasons shifted and were avoiding their traps. The fishing traps in the nearby river are similarly empty with the fish migrating further downstream. Ace huffs in frustration as he carelessly drops the empty cage back in the river with a splash, the rope tied to it the only thing preventing it from being swept away by the current.
“Looks like we’re doing it the old fashioned way,” Ace mutters, pulling his bow off his back.
Honestly of the two of them Sabo was probably the better marksman, but Ace had always been the better tracker. He was good at spotting places where prints had been recently left or where the tree branches were snapped by something brushing past. He heads back toward the trees, searching for any signs of animal activity.
It doesn’t take him too long to spot an area where the plants that line some brush have been nibbled toward the bottom. He immediately drops low and tries to slow his breathing. He still doesn’t see any sign of the animal that had passed through, but he’s hoping it’s still nearby. He waits for a few minutes, but when nothing makes itself apparent he begins to creep along the brush with every sense on high alert.
It’s a slow process, but Ace is patient. It was usually Luffy who gave them all away when hunting anyway. A flash of sadness passes through him at the thought, but he quickly shakes it off. This is no time to get distracted. He continues his slow movements through the forest, heart rate increasing as he spots a set of hoof prints.
They’re large tracks, deer tracks, and probably a buck at that. His heart soars at the realization. If he can actually manage to bag a good sized deer, it’d keep the three of them fed for days, with probably some left over to salt and dry for the winter. And he knew Sabo could make a good stew with it from past experience. It feels like his mouth is already watering.
Getting distracted again
Ace forces himself to refocus on the tracks. It’d be beyond devastating if such ideal prey managed to escape because he was too busy fantasizing about dinner. He follows them closely, eyes flitting back and forth, and tightens his grip on his bow as he can see how fresh they’re becoming. Clearly whatever made them is close by.
He hears a snap then and a rustle of leaves.
Immediately, Ace freezes and ducks back down. He presses himself close to the trunk of a nearby tree, hoping his coat will offer some measure of camouflage. His eyes whip around, trying to find the source of the noise, when-
There!
Ace sucks in a silent breath as he spots a magnificent pair of antlers barely fifteen feet away poking above some nearby brush. From where he’s crouching he estimates the tips of the antlers are nearly seven feet tall.Shit, he’s never seen a deer that big. That was practically moose territory!
But the antlers are unmistakably deer-like in nature, even if they look like they might be in the process of molting their velvet. Maybe this one just got incredibly lucky genetics? Either way, Ace isn’t about to look a gift horse (deer?) in the mouth. After all, the bigger the deer, the longer they could eat it.
His luck holds further in that the deer hasn’t seemed to have noticed him yet. It’s facing away from him, antlers bobbing up and down slowly as it’s eating something. Ace doesn’t have the clearest line of sight through the shrubs, but he thinks he can probably estimate where at least most of its bulk should be.
He silently tugs one of his arrows from his quiver, nocking it and drawing back the string quickly. He sends up a silent prayer to whatever higher power might be out there that his arrow manages to wound the deer enough that it won’t be able to immediately bolt. Ace lets out a breath, straightens his shoulders, and…
Thwip!
His arrow cuts through the air near soundlessly, the only indication he gets of it leaving his fingers is the snap of a couple twigs and then the loud, indignant bray of a deer. He’s already reaching for another arrow, pulling it quickly from his quiver, nocking it, drawing back the string-
Ace’s grip falters as a very loud, very non-deer voice cries out in pain. For a second all he can do is stand there, frozen, as the voice lets out a string of words in a language he can’t understand. The antlers in front of him jerk back and forth aggressively, practically bristling, but the animal they’re attached to makes no moves to run away.
“Huh?” Ace finally manages, thoroughly confused. He has yet to lower his bow, but he doesn’t think he could fire an arrow in that moment even if he tried.
At the noise the antlers in front of him suddenly pause, and Ace has all of a second to think that somehow he’s royally fucked up before something explodes from the bushes toward him. He screams and stumbles back, releasing the arrow in the process, but it goes wide.
Pain explodes through his head as he’s harshly shoved up against the tree behind him, smacking the back of his skull in the process. The rough bark digs into his back uncomfortably through his coat. Spots cloud his vision for a second before his eyes manage to refocus.
In front of him now stands a man.
Wait, no
Ace blinks rapidly for a second as those tall antlers he’d been watching before now loom threateningly over his head and… they’re attached to the man in front of him, appearing to grow straight from his skull. They start at his temples before sprouting out into thick, branch like bones ending in sharpened points. They’re stained red with strands of recently molted velvet dangling from them like gory trophies. The red drips down the antlers, dyeing the man’s hair a matted bloody hue so vivid Ace can’t tell what color his hair might have been originally.
It’s then that he notices the man is wearing what looks like an outfit assembled from a mixtures of tanned hides and woven moss, nature cloaking most of his body from view. The moss lets out an overwhelmingly heady scent that leaves Ace’s head swimming. His eyes snap up to the man’s face then and-
Oh, he’s furious
“How dare you?” The man in front of him grits out, voice reverberating strangely to Ace’s ears. His eyes are bright green, the color of spring leaves, but that quickly shifts to the same dark red of the shreds of velvet that drip from his horns and then to a dark black that reminds Ace of soil after rain.
“Huh?” Ace manages, barely able to process what he’s seeing.
“I asked, how dare you, mortal?!”
Ace’s ears ring from the words, and the clamor startles birds in the treetops into flight. “Agh!” He wants to reach up to cover his ears, but the moment he tries to move the man in front of him grabs him by the front of his jacket and slams him back into the tree. “Ow!”
“You would attack me in my domain?!” The man snarls. Ace is abruptly and uncomfortably aware of how sharp the man’s antlers look, and long enough that they could probably gut him all the way through with bone to spare.
“I-uh, I didn’t- your domain?” Ace’s words come out a jumbled mess as he tries to comprehend what the other is saying. He’s not very successful considering his brain is still stuck on ‘this guy has antlers’.
The man’s eyes narrow, colors flashing through them faster than Ace can process. It’s starting to make Ace dizzy, so he averts his gaze to the hands gripping the front of his jacket. They’re covered in earth, moss climbing up the other's arms like veins. His nails are blackened and hardened, curved into claw-like points. Ace has no doubts the man could disembowel him just as easily with his bare hands as he could with his antlers.
“First you trespassed into my domain without permission or even an offering, and then you attack me?” The man practically spits the words, “You mortals have become far too complacent.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Ace says.
He should probably be trying to come up with an apology of some kind, but he’s never been a wordsmith like Sabo or as effortlessly charismatic as Luffy. Besides, something tells him that the man glaring at him wouldn’t appreciate any pointless excuses.
The man in front of him scowls, but something in his demeanor shifts as he scans Ace up and down. “You…you don’t keep the Old Ones, do you?”
That at least Ace vaguely recognizes. While he’s heard rumors of it, the worship of the Old Ones was something that had fallen far by the wayside with the development of more and more modern cities (though he’s pretty sure some people in the cities are starting to consider it trendy again). There weren’t many serious practitioners that recognized the Old Ones - the divine natural forces that shaped the universe - and even fewer continued their worship. Mostly the faith was just a relic of history, something talked about in a very ‘can you believe people used to think that way’ type of conversation.
Ace himself had never felt one way or the other about the faith. He hadn’t had much time for religion, modern or otherwise, when his usual struggle was making sure he and his brothers had food on the table and enough firewood to keep their cabin warm.
“I…” Ace flounders for words, not wanting to offend the man who’s he pretty sure at this point is supernatural in some way (and isn’t that a whole can of worms he’s going to have to shift his worldview around if he survives), and he really doesn’t want to piss off. Well, piss off any more than he could after shooting the other with an arrow.
“You don’t,” the man says quietly, apparently able to read into Ace’s uncertainty. The fight goes out of the other like a receding tide. Something that Ace could almost swear is disappointment flashes across the other’s face, but it’s gone as suddenly as it appears.
“Sorry?” Ace offers, not sure how to respond.
“Your apology is empty,” the man says, though it lacks the anger it had previously. Instead the man just sounds tired. The grip on Ace’s jacket loosens and the man steps away. Ace feels an odd sense of loss that he can’t quite place.
“Are you…” Ace pauses, “Are you an Old One?”
The man glares at him sharply. “What does it matter? You are not a believer.”
“Well, I mean,” Ace cautiously straightens up and pulls away from the tree, slightly emboldened when the other makes no move to threaten him again, “You still have antlers growing out of your head, man. Even if I’m not particularly, uh, religious, that’s still something I have questions about.”
The man blinks slowly at him. “And if I say I am an Old One? What would your reaction be?”
“I don’t know,” Ace answers honestly, “I’d probably apologize for shooting at you though.”
And really, he does feel sorry about that. He’d feel sorry about it even if the other weren’t a god or forest spirit or whatever the hell he is. He could swear the other almost smiles at that, and Ace feels an odd rush of satisfaction.
“I see,” the man says. “Usually I would demand atonement for such an offense.”
He gestures toward what Ace first thinks is his side, but when Ace glances at where the man is motioning his blood freezes. There’s a mass of dark moss stained red collecting around the man’s backside, wrapping around it like some kind of bandage.
“Oh fuck, I shot you in the ass,” Ace blurts.
He immediately wants to smack himself for saying as much, but seriously holy shit. Injuring a god in general was probably some unforgivable sin, but shooting the other somewhere so ridiculous was somehow even worse than what he was thinking. Was he going to be smited (Smote? Smitten?) for shooting a god in the ass?
The man (god?) raises an eyebrow at him before speaking. “Indeed.”
“I just- shit, I’m so sorry, I definitely didn’t mean to do that,” Ace babbles, eyes wide as he, for some reason, just keeps staring at man’s injury. He should probably stop doing that. Was staring at a god’s ass also a capital offense? He forces his eyes back up to the man’s face, and could swear the other looks mildly entertained even though he isn’t smiling.
“Despite the circumstances, I believe you,” the god says dryly.
“I thought you were a deer,” Ace babbles, “Uh, not that I’m saying you look like a deer, it’s just the antlers- which are very cool antlers by the way!” Ace silently begs the tree behind him to fall on him and crush him.
The god reaches a hand up, almost subconsciously toward his antlers, though he pauses and drops it halfway. “You are strange, even for a mortal.”
“I get that a lot,” Ace admits. Usually from his brothers, but neither of them have any room to speak considering how they behaved half the time. “But seriously, I am sorry about that. I… I don’t know if I can make it up to you at all, but-“ He grimaces.
“What would you offer as atonement?” The god asks, oddly intense. His eyes flash to that green Ace had seen earlier and then a startling bright blue the same color as the sky on a cloudless day.
“Uh, what do you want?” Ace asks, shifting nervously.
As bad as he felt for injuring the god, he was wary of making any sort of agreement with an ancient deity. His whole life Ace had tried his best to live freely, and especially free of any debts that needed repayment. He didn’t want to be in the path of a god’s rage, but also didn’t want himself chained to a higher power for the rest of his life.
The man tilts his head, in consideration. It makes him feel uncomfortably like a bug pinned to a board. The other’s eyes burn into him, and for a second Ace has the stray thought that blue eyes seem to really suit the other. He stamps down on that thought as soon as he has it, but strangely enough the other man smiles as if he’s managed to hear it anyway.
Shit, he hopes this guy can’t read minds.
“I have decided on my payment,” the god declares.
Ace tenses. “Yeah?”
“You shall assist me in my tasks in maintaining the forest until I have healed,” the god says.
“Maintaining the forest?” Ace repeats, “What exactly does that entail?”
“Encouraging the leaves to fall, inducing the sleep of the local wildlife, preparing the grounds for snowfall and clearing away as much rot as possible.” The other ticks off the items easily, but Ace can feel his eyes widening with every word.
“You do know I’m just a normal human, right?” Ace points out.
The god waves a hand. “Irrelevant. You will be sufficient as a vessel for me to channel my power through.”
“Wait, you’re just going to run magic through me? Is that safe?” Ace says. He’s not sure exactly what ‘channeling power' might mean, but he’s definitely not sure he wants to risk any divine whatever flowing through him.
“You likely won’t perish,” the man says.
“Likely?!”
“I have near certainty you won’t,” he says, though Ace has no idea if the other is lying through his teeth. It’s far from encouraging.
“Uh, is there any other way I can pay you back?” Ace asks, “Like… chopping firewood or bringing you some food?”
“I am not affected by colder climates and I have no need for earthly sustenance,” the god says, which okay fair enough if the other was actually a deity, but still.
“Okay, well…” Ace’s mind races, “Then maybe I can-“
“I will also heal your brother’s illness.”
Ace freezes, words dying in his throat. Eventually he manages to croak out. “…What?”
“Your brother is sick, is he not?” The god asks, eyes swirling into a dark red color. “I can sense disease clinging to you. I can help him… if you temporarily allow me to use you as a channel.”
“I…” Ace hates the way his voice shakes, “You can really do that?”
The god smirks. “I am as old as this forest and I control everything in it. To root out rot in a single creature is child’s play.”
Ace swallows. The other doesn’t sound like he’s lying.
He knows he’s making a stupid, impulsive decision, one that Sabo would definitely be yelling at him for if the other was here, but Sabo isn’t here. He’s back in their cabin with their little brother who’s been sneezing, coughing and shaking for days with no signs of stopping no matter what they tried. None of the normal remedies have worked, and they don’t have the money to go into the cities for better medicine.
He knows he’s a stubborn hothead sometimes, but Ace would be damned if he didn’t do everything he could to help his little brother.
Ace lets out a long breath before squaring his shoulders and meeting Ichiji’s crimson gaze. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Then we have a pact,” Ichiji says, grinning widely. “Until I have recovered from my injury, you shall substitute as my magical channel. In return I shall heal your brother.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Ace agrees, hoping he’s not making a massive mistake.
The god holds out a hand. Ace takes it.
Immediately it’s like frost shoots through his veins, freezing all the way up his arm and radiating through the rest of his nervous system. His teeth clack together painfully, and he thinks he might taste blood, though he can’t be sure over the overwhelmed chaos of signals ricocheting through his head. He reflexively tries to drop the other’s hand, but the other’s grip is as strong as steel.
Eventually though the pain ebbs, and something strange blooms in his stomach. It’s warm and rich, like a fire starting right in his core before spreading out through the rest of his body. Ace’s eyes open again and he sucks in a sharp breath. Strings of light trail between everything he sees, from the trees and their leaves to the dead branches strewn along the ground. He can see flashes of color from barely noticeable insects and the bright flutter of a nearby bird’s wings. Everything weaves together like threads on a tapestry.
And when he looks back at the god…
Light shoots out from the other like roots, a dozen reaching tendrils that connects the man to everything in the forest that breathes or once did. He stands like the center of a hurricane that nature itself revolves around. Ace can’t tear his eyes away from him.
He’s beautiful
And then the other releases Ace’s hand, and the strings of light abruptly fade. Ace can still see them slightly, shining like ghostly cobwebs, but it’s nothing compared to the incredible tangle of connections he’d seen before. The god in front of him looks the same as he did when Ace first saw him, though it’s impossible to erase that former vision.
“What was…?”
“You saw the connections of the world,” the god says, “Though not for long. You would not have been able to handle it for more than a few second without going blind entirely.”
Ace thinks it almost would have been worth it.
“So are we…?” He’s not sure exactly what he’s asking, but the god nods down at Ace’s wrist.
Ace glances down, eyes widening as he sees blood red lines wrapping around his wrist like a tattoo. It’s an interlocking string of symbols he can’t decipher, that almost look like a bracelet of ivy at first glance. He runs his fingers over it without thinking, and gasps as a flash of warmth flows through him.
He looks back up at the god. “Is this…?”
“Our pact,” the man supplies, “It binds you to me, and I to you. It will allow me to channel my magic through you until I am recovered.”
“This is crazy,” Ace mutters running his fingers through his hair.
Less than an hour ago he’d set out with the sole thought in his mind being to try and find some food for his brothers. Now he was apparently in a pact with an Old One with great and terrible powers that was demanding Ace help him manage his domain (because he shot the other in the ass, can’t forget that detail). What even was his life?
“You will do well, Ace,” the god says.
Ace jolts. “Wh- I never told you my name!”
The god blinks. “As I said, you are mine. Of course I know your name. And you know mine as well.”
“No I-“
Ichiji
The name pops into Ace’s head then, making him freeze. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he can manage to speak. “…Ichiji.”
The man’s lips curve upward. “It has been many centuries since I have heard my name aloud. I will admit I enjoy hearing it on your lips.”
A flush of heat rushes through Ace in a way he’s not entirely sure he can blame on the magic. “I- you-!”
“You should head back home now,” the god - Ichiji - says, cutting him off. “Your brother will have recovered now, and there will be plenty of meat waiting for you at your home.”
Ace’s eyes widen. “You didn’t have to do that.” He hopes that won’t add any conditions or debt to their agreement.
“I take care of what is mine. No further conditions,” Ichiji says, “I will see you again soon, Ace.”
Between one breath and the next the god vanishes, gone as if he never existed in the first place. Ace looks around, startled, but the god doesn’t reappear. He tries calling the other’s name again, but is only met with his own voice echoing back at him.
For a few minutes Ace can’t bear to move, too overwhelmed with everything that’s just happened, but eventually the chill of the forest around him begins to set in. He shivers and glances up to see the already dying sunlight beginning to darken further. He needs to start heading back now if he wants to get home before darkness falls.
He forces himself to move, to pick up his bow and quiver and take a step away from the tree he’d been leaning heavily against for the past few minutes. Abruptly he realizes he’s completely lost his bearings in the excitement and has no idea how to start heading back, only to look down and see a trail of deer tracks leading from where he is through the forest.
Ace thinks he probably shouldn’t trust them, shouldn’t put too much faith in a god he’s not sure has his best interests at heart, but he finds himself following the tracks anyway. When the familiar silhouette of the cabin comes into view, Ace glances behind him one last time into the rapidly darkening forest.
He doesn’t see anything, but he could swear he hears something like laughter mixed with the wind.