Five days

Day Three

THREE

By the third time Marco stumbled out of his self-made fire he could feel his skin glowing and knew that his feathers would be brighter and more vibrant than the last day. The renewal process was enough to last him for another year, but the first few days always felt the best. If he wanted, he supposed he could do this all the time. However, he ran the risk of being found out by people other than Whitebeard.

He could hear the playful jokes in his mind. They would laugh about how he built a nest, probably crack jokes about how he must be laying eggs in them. No, he could wait a few months for rebirth. Besides, after his five days was up Whitebeard would move their ship and they'd go back to travelling once more. Who knew when they'd see another deserted island fit for his fire baths? Many islands in the New World were pretty uninhabitable.

Marco walked over to his pile of clothes that he'd brought. On the later half of his cycle he would generally forsake clothes, as his skin and thus his feathers became less sensitive to the touch of the flame when they were covered in human fabrics. By having them off the fire became more intimate and he knew, from past experiences, that he would leave with a greater sense of refreshment than if he'd kept his clothes on.

Pulling a shirt over his head Marco fingered the cloth, unused to having something so restraining on his torso. Usually he wore an open jacket, but tonight he'd abandoned it in favour of the shirt. There was a gnawing worry with the jacket that the zipper would break suddenly. If that were to happen he'd expose his mark to Ace while flying above him in phoenix form. It would be disastrous to his carefully laid plans to keep his identity a secret for a while longer. He wanted nothing more than for his plans to run smoothly. It would be most rewarding if they did.

He knew his thoughts were absurd but he couldn't help himself as he ran through countless possibilities in his head for how tonight might go. Flexing his fingers and seeing them shine a dull blue, Marco realized he was greedy for fire. This was always the way it went as he progressed through his cycle. Until the fifth night was over Marco's lust for flames would grow.

He didn't want anyone to know about this weakness. He didn't want anyone to know he was attracted to a flame like a moth was to a single light shining in the night. Still, he couldn't help but wonder, Would it really be so bad if Ace knew?

He shunted away that rogue contemplation and leapt up into the sky off of his rocky cliff, flapping his wings powerfully to gain momentum. His blue flames flickered and filtered up through the trees, sputtering out into the air as they left his body.

Once he was above the tops of the trees Marco set his gaze on the Moby Dick rolling in the waves. At this range the monstrous ship was only a speck floating on the sea, a seagull bobbing on the surf. Marco knew that if it hadn't been for the fact that he glowed a vivid cerulean Ace wouldn't be able to spot him at such a distance. Not with the naked eye anyway.

As he approached the ship he knew Ace had been watching him for a long while already. He flew low over the crow's nest, teasingly, liking the way that his light reflected off of Ace's pearly white teeth as he grinned up at him.

Joyfully, Ace watched as his bird dove lower than ever before and raced along the edge of the mast below the crow's nest. He leaned over the edge of the railing, seeing the bird's back clearly for the first time, noting how he could see feathers beneath that mass of blue fire that held him captivated.

Ace heaved a shuddering breath in awe and Marco tilted his wings, shooting up past Ace's hunched body and allowing some of his flames to reach out and touch the boy. Ace reared back in surprise, thinking that even though he were made of fire, blue flames theoretically burned hotter than red ones. Despite the wind in his ears from flight he could hear Ace's gasp as the fire, cool and airy to the touch, ghosted over his skin, completely debunking his previous assumptions.