The True Adventures Of Marco And Sabre

Sabre gazed silently at the purple dark surrounding them as they rowed through the Duat. Marco steered the boat with master accuracy.
"Marco...you saved me. Thank you." Sabre told his escorter.
"No prob, man." Marco said. Sabre sighed. Things could be worse. At least his escorter was a ray of sunshine. At least travel in the Duat was quick and easy.
"Dude, stop 'at least'ing. Everything is fine, and so are you." Marco assured Sabre while steering away from a plane lodged halfway in the water.
It was a year after the beginning of time, and they were traveling away from the Corax. It was time they found a new home, a new land.
"How does the future find its way into the Duat?" Sabre asked Marco. He was also curious how Marco knew what Sabre was thinking.
"First answer: The Duat is timeless, man. Time works differently in the stream of magic energy, and there are many layers. In the time layer, at the very bottom, there is a pit where all the time creatures, made from the fabric of time itself (early Vramaasians, before Zira and Aios corrupted), they do their best to manage the time travelers, but once in a while things slip through and alert others to the future or retell the past. Those people often inhabit oracles. Because of the magic channeled through the time layer, the further you venture into the Duat, the harder it is to get out.
Second answer: I've got pow-pow-powers, man. I ain't know why, but I use them for good." Marco said.
Thunk.
Sabre wasn't sure, but he thought that something had pierced the hull, causing the ship to list sideways. Valuable rations and Greek Fire tilted dangerously toward the acidic water. Marco desperately tried to steer the boat into safer water, as the siren's rocks were coming up.
Before considering the consequences, Sabre shed all excess weight and dove in the water.
Voices clawed at his ears, but Sabre managed to find whatever pierced the hull without going insane.
A fairly small treasure chest resided in the hole, unaffected by the water. No wards could have protected it, for all magic energy malfunctioned in the Duat, their effects reversed by the many layers demanding for the same energy at once.
Sabre quickly grabbed the chest, and aimed.
The boat was fairly stable, so Sabre threw.
One little chest landed in Marco's flippers.
"Score!" Marco cried, grappling for the lock for the supposed numerous goodies inside.
"Hands off the merchandise!" an invisible voice cried, as if a little squirrel spoke English like a chipmunk.
A jolt ran down Marco's spine, and he dropped the chest with a yelp.
The wood was smoking yet unharmed.
Sabre came out of the water with a dolphin's grace, barely landing on all four paws.
"Is it just me, or did the ship repair itself? How could that happen when all spells malfunction?" Sabre asked Marco, puzzled.
Marco looked just as befuddled.
"You must be a stinkin' liar, because I have never seen this happen even when magic is boosted." Marco said.
Sabre gave him a look that meant "Go look for yourself."
Marco went down, and when he came up his expression was worth a shiny penny.
"I don't know how to accuse, but that chest is cursed, I can feel it!" Marco said.
Sadly, Sabre didn't believe in such magic.

Many years went by, and the duo of Marco and Sabre became legendary. They were good merchants, and only stole when they needed food for their voyage. They also fought evils such as pirates, just as the Mobian Freedom Fighters would do one day.
Alongside all the myths that made their true story unclear, there was their talent for quick travel.
As none of the commonspeople knew about the Duat so far, they were astounded when they were buying rice in China one day, and then watching plays at the theater in Club Penguin only hours later. Some said they were the gods of trade and thieves, others thought they could go somewhere quickly, somehow able to bend time. However, even when their immortality-due to the effects of the Duat-preserved their unwavering confidence, the chest weighed them down greatly. Sabre worked at lightning speed, tying the rigging and ropes to the wharf at the new land Ook.
"I wonder what awaits us.." Sabre said wistfully. The vast beaches around them made him homesick for their vacations at Crystal Sands during his reign as prince.
Monkeys popped out from behind some crates, wearing torn pirate's garments. All of them wielded flaming swords.
"Ooh, this treasure will be great for Mayor Bumbee!" one said. For some reason, their clothes were stuffed with thousands of bananas.
Marco managed to kill at least ten by swinging his powerful metal sword, but a few were swift enough to carry a struggling Sabre off, saying something about treasure being good luck.
Tears blurring his vision, Marco went belowdecks to get the chest. It was untouched by time, as shiny as new.
Marco wrenched the lock open, and for once wasn't stopped.
Nothing happened.
Then, shadowy figures came out, cackling, and sped away at the speed of light.
Marco had the feeling he had cursed his homeland, Jamaa.
But one shimmering piece of glass that apparently was named Hope remained, edges round enough to make it hard to hold on to, but not painful at all.
The penguin grasped the shard, and wept.