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Dragon Gods

Prologue: Dragon Gods

Chapter 1: The beginning of the end...


"Naruto…"

"Naruto…"

"Naruto!"

Awareness did not come easy. It was forced inside, a searing shocking pain like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Feeling where there was no feeling; senses where previously there had been none. He didn't like it. He had been content with the darkness…with the nothingness, away from all the pain. He wanted to lay there forever. Still, that voice…that sweet, meticulous voice. It carried so much hurt…so much sorrow. It made him want to keep fighting, not for himself but for her.

"…you have to…"

There it was again, this time so much stronger. He didn't know how to feel about it. On one hand the voice was beautiful, laced with kindness and gentleness of which relinquished life into confused lungs, unsure if breathing was what it was desired of them. On the other hand, however, the voice brought with it all the things he had abandoned. Things that could never be recovered. He wanted to be left alone, to the darkness, where nothing could touch him. He didn't like the voice. He feared it would ask of him something he could not do.

"…live."

There it was, his greatest fear. He couldn't remember a time he dreaded something as he dreaded what that word implied. It meant he would have to go back, to a word of pain, of loneliness. A world without her.

"Live."

He wanted to deny the request, to make the voice go away. But he was too late. The heart was beating now and the lungs had accepted the gift of air. Blood was coursing through the system, through the intricacies that were veins and arteries. Sensation, excruciating and slow, was spreading throughout. Something hard beneath, something loud all around.

"Live."

In one screaming rush everything fell into place. Limbs twitched as cerulean orbs opened and instantly shut again under the harsh onslaught of brightness. A wince as hard ground and sharp rocks cut into tender flesh. New scents, strange and alien, registering within. Utter confusion, anxiety and cold, biting fear clouded the mind.

"Live."

He was shivering now, body new and unaccustomed to the freezing temperatures. Trying to shut out the mass of roiling chaotic thoughts reverberating in the mind, to comprehend what was going on around him. Hesitantly the eyes opened once amore, decree by decree until the burning brightness became more tolerable. Still lying huddled, curled, against a cutting abrasive surface. Vision hazy at first, then gaining focus. Rocks. That's what he saw. Rocks and rocky ground, grey and more grey.

"Naruto-kun, you have to live. What happens to me now does not matter, you have to live."

Realization of identity danced just beyond the reach of comprehensive thought. He was the mighty Dragon God of Salvation, Viserion. Taking solace in that diminutive knowledge he slowly uncurled his body, limbs trembling. Every movement felt awkward, heavy, as if he had somehow been accustomed to fluid movement. But how could that be? He managed to remember sailing through the skies, but that was all. He remembered not these new appendages embellishing his form, hurting with just the thought of movement. His eyes, watering as newly opened eyes were meant to do, swept over the surrounding area. More grey, more rocks, rising up and all around.

Where was he?

He found no answers but, out of buried knowledge from somewhere long ago, he realized that he could not remain here; the cold and wind would do him harm. His body wobbled and shook as it attempted to stand. When finally he had reached his feet he realized he was in a bowl made of stone that went on for miles. A crater. His brow furrowed in confusion but it was quickly forgotten as the biting cold reached tanned skin. His body told him to move, to get away from here, get somewhere warm. The only thing he could do was comply.

His first steps were faltering and shaky, but the more he took the steadier they became. The sharp rocks bit into his feet and he hissed in pain. He didn't want to continue, but it was the only way out of the quarter, and so he walked on. He had only made it a few meters when something caught his attention. A glint of something, half buried under a bundle of rocks. He knelt clumsily to examine it, brushing the pebbles and rocks away. It was the remainder of some sort of blade; the long, faded handle and the tarnished pieces of the blade. A seal decorated the thick grip, one he recognized and couldn't fathom why. Why would a blade be here in the first place, and why did he recognize it? Before he could make sense of the strange phenomenon something flapped a few feet away, startling him slightly. It was something white, a piece of cloth.

He made his way towards it, his feet now numb against the rough ground. He bended down and grabbed the loose piece of cloth and pulled, the fabric coming out with ease from under the rocks. He held it up before him and it rippled in the wind. It was a long, white coat ornamented with flame motifs on the edges. It was ripped and threadbare but still serviceable, if barely. He stood and with some difficulty managed to put it on. Where it covered him he ceased to feel the wind, and the wind no longer hit his privates. His feet and hands were still exposed, but he felt a million times better than he had. It wasn't only because of the warmth either. The coat brought some sort of comfort he couldn't explain, like a missing part of him that finally returned to the place it belonged. His eyes then flitted over to his last find. It was like a pull, drawing him in. He couldn't leave the blade even when it provided him with no use, it was something he considered precious. He reached, and, just as his feeble fingers made to touch the handle, the blade began to resonate with power. Like a switch had been flipped memories bombarded his mind uninvitingly. Suddenly the world seemed to convulse around him, a dizzying sensation hit him, making his stomach surge and his head pound. Everything attacked him at once, raining down on him like one enormous flood of water.

"Argh!" he cried and stumbled away, clutching his head in agony. He pulled at his hair, panting harshly. Another wave of pressure and pain coalesced over him and he was brought to his knees, curling into a ball and then arching his back, his head snapping upwards, eyes squeezed tight.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

He howled in lament to the heavens. He curled into himself, wracked with one of the most intense pain he'd ever experienced. He wanted it to stop, he prayed for it to stop! It pounded at his skull, his brain a blazing mass of dendrites firing at a rapid pace, images rushing in torrents through his mind's eye. Emotions of torment, despair, fear, agony, hope, peace, love, then the most miserable feeling of ultimate sorrow, consumed him.

As abruptly as it began, it stopped. His breaths were layered and harsh, and sweat glistered down his forehead with the scorching heat now inhabiting his veins. He felt chakra once again streaming within his body, even when he wanted nothing more than to forget. That heat, however, all too soon left him and the cold enveloped him once more, much to his gratitude. All that was left was the emptiness threatening to consume him, something he had grown used to. As long as his memories as Naruto were kept at bay, he didn't care. He was Viserion, not Naruto. Naruto's memories were still fresh, still so vivid. He wanted to forget. But he couldn't. He could endure the memories of the Dragon Empire, the prophecy, the war, the deaths. He could endure Astarot. He could endure the battle, and his ultimate defeat, and even what weighted most heavily upon his shoulders, her demise. It had been his fault. It was his fault that she died. He remembered her corpse, the cold motionless body he clung to till his last breath. He could endure all of that, all of the pain and the agony those memories brought, but he could not withstand the memoirs of Naruto. And then he remembered her last words, as if she was repeating them right now, imprinting it in his mind.

And then his promise repeated itself a thousand times in his head. A message he couldn't forget even if he so desired.

"You have to save him, Viserion.You have to protect our son. Astarot will have no mercy."

With refined vigor, he stood once more, the three-pronged blade in hand. He knew what it was, knew who it previously belonged to, but he all too quickly suppressed those memories. He couldn't stand the reminders the blade and even the cloth he now adorned brought, but he could never find it in himself to throw them away. They were as part of him as the blood that flowed through his veins. The same blood he now wished had been absorbed by the ground so that he wouldn't have to face the world once again. He no longer had a reason to live, and he knew what saving his son entailed. But he would do it. He'd promised. The chakra had not only provided to heat his vacant system, but had also enhanced his senses to the point he could discern the distance between him and the closest living beings in the area. Placing the blade in a secured pocket inside the long coat he now adorned, Naruto began walking again, keeping the memories at bay as he climbed the incline and then up. He stopped frequently, his muscles aching and his lungs burning, protesting such abuse so briefly after his awakening. The pain helped him to focus away from the memories, so he ignored the plea for rest, convinced he couldn't possibly survive if he stayed here. He continued on.

The passage of time had no meaning to him; there was only steps taken, and air breathed. When he finally reached the summit of the crater ledge, the sky had darkened to a dark orange brilliance, the sun a red orb as it sank below the horizon. He stared at the sight, fascinated. It had been so long since the last time he'd witness it. Too long in his opinion. As soon as that thought made its way to his brain, another soon followed. One he wasn't so willing to dive into. When he realized it was getting darker; that soon all the light would be gone, he shook his head. He looked down. The descent down the other side of the crater was not as long a distance, and he could barely make out some sort of buildings in the dying light clustered below him. Heartened by the sight, he began his way south.

By the time he reached the bottom, the sky was dark. There was a moon, almost full and surrounded by the brilliant stars. For long moments he forgot himself and he gazed at them in awe. They were beautiful, and mysterious, and they raised in him some sort of emotion. Longing, he recognized, but for what he didn't know. Faces of people he, Naruto, met before flashed in his drowsy mind, too fast to garner details. There were many of them, too many to keep count. They all gazed up at him with affection, with devotion. One after another they came and went. But one person in particular enticed his attention. The man stood shoulder to shoulder with him, midnight orbs staring intently at his own. The man was tall, dark, and extremely handsome, and Viserion immediately recognized this detested man. As if he knew the Dragon God's exact train of thought, the man smirked almost condescendingly, a hint of friendliness touching his features. And, unable to stop himself, Viserion grinned in response, rubbing a bent index finger under his nose with an affectionate laugh.

As abruptly as the visions had started, they stopped. He felt something cold run down his face then, and he touched a finger to it. It came away sparkling with moisture. Alarmed, he touched both hands to his face to find his cheeks wet. What was happening to him? Viserion never once before shed any tears, it was undignified for a Dragon God, who, if the situation should ever call for it, lamented loss by losing control, letting the whole world know of their grief. And what was worse, he knew who those people were, what part they played in creating the man Viserion hated with all his being. Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki, a human. A part of him as much as Viserion himself. But that no longer mattered. His only purpose was to save his son, he could not allow himself to be sidetracked with things as impractical as the beauty of the skies. Or Naruto.

Despite his earlier administration however, he stared entranced at the night sky for some minutes longer before recalling the buildings. They were closer now, and since his vision had adjusted he could see them clearly. It was a small town, and he could feel the presence of humans inhabiting the small clustered buildings. The thought comforted him somewhat, even when he knew his past as Viserion was all but buried. It meant the pro-humans, Viserion's allies, had won the war and the humans were finally living in peace. But the thought also troubled him. Dragons were powerful creatures who traveled through the heavens with independence and fervor no other race could equate, and that simple yet practical ability permitted his brethren to soar with such swiftness that allowed them complete control over their territories and masses. Earthland was ruled by Dragons, and there were no such presences to speak of. If there were, he was certain to have felt it. He frowned at the thought.

There was a light in one of the windows, the only one in fact, and it was towards it that one he walked. He wondered at the debris lying around, and the half destroyed buildings. The town looked ransacked. His attention was quickly diverted as he arrived at the wooden door free of markings, and he hesitated only briefly before raising a hand and knocking. Almost immediately it opened, and a dark haired young woman stood there, curious eyes inspecting his person.

His eyes widened slightly as he took in the woman's disheveled appearance. She adorned a white fabric—something called a kimono if he recalled correctly—which covered her head to toe, hugging her slim figure. The top was burned completely, allowing him a peek of her cleavage, and a whole sleeve was missing, roughly ripped apart if the torn fabric hanging around the edges were any indication. Her shoulders were visible, pale skin littered with cuts and bruises, and he could hear the quiet whimpers she tried to suppress as she moved her shoulders to look up at him, their height difference so great.

The woman merely eyed him for a moment, features colored with surprise, wonder, and if he guessed correctly, fear. Now that he had a good look at her he realized she was quite attractive even with the burns adorning her soft, pale features. Her lips were covered in a glossy substance and her dark eyes were smudged with wariness. Her nose was small and a misplaced bang surrounded, her hair parted on the middle of her forehead, joining at the back and flowing down her shoulders. Her cheeks were painted a deep scarlet, slightly embarrassed at being caught staring before she regained herself and noticed his rather pathetic appearance. Her mouth parted, and she evidently struggled to make a decision before she regained her resolve and opened the door wide.

"Come in, come in," her voice was unsteady as she ushered him in, and Viserion briefly questioned himself if he should take the offer, but that was quickly overrode by the overwhelming exhaustion that made its appearance at that moment. She closed the door behind them after glancing outside for a split second and letting out a relieved sigh. "What happened to you?"

He wanted to ask her the same question but refrained himself. It was none of his business and getting involved with others would prove to bring more harm than good. After he realized she was waiting for an answer, he quickly mapped out various believable scenarios in his head. "I got… attacked…by a group…of monsters," he finally answered, voice hoarse and sounding almost harsh. He cleared his throat, "I barely managed to escape."

The young woman hurriedly led him to a small living room, where two couches leaned against the walls. "Come, sit here. You must be freezing! And your feet are bleeding!"

Viserion was surprise by the concern in her voice. Humans were still the same feeble creatures they were back then it seemed, so easily mislead by words and actions. So easy to manipulate. It was their greatest weakness, and also their greatest strength. The woman reminded him of the past in that aspect.

"My god," the woman breathed, examining the sharp rocks wedged under his bloody feet with suspicion. She looked at him, concern overrode with panic. "Were you perhaps exploring the Clade?"

He shook his head, not trusting his voice. The franticness in her voice alerted him of the correct answer. He didn't know what she meant by the Clade, but he highly suspected it had something to do with the crater. He couldn't afford to make any more enemies. Not when he was so weak.

A relieved sigh escaped her, and he wondered at her relief. She smiled at him, the stiffness leaving her shoulders. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. The Elder will surely be pleased with the news."

Viserion, not knowing what to do, simply nodded. He felt slightly guilty for deceiving the woman who so graciously helped him, but he had no choice. He hardly believed she would take him seriously if he told her he was a legendary Dragon God, or that he had finally roused after four centuries of eternal slumber. If she discovered he did, in fact, ventured into the crater, things would not end well for him.

The young woman was silent, regarding the other intently. Finally she spoke, "You can stay here with me tonight. I got more than enough room to accommodate you." She glanced at her visitor's feet, covered in dried blood. "We had better do something about those." She blushed then, avoiding his gaze. "Are you wearing anything beneath that coat?"

Viserion shook his head, slightly amused by her antics. She pursed her lips, "Well, I may have some clothes that will suffice until you can get some of your own. I'll be right back."

With that she went through a door on the opposite wall from the couch. Viserion could hear her rummaging around in the next room. He closed his eyes with a peaceful sigh. It was warm in here and it felt so soothing. He was glad he had found someone. Her condition still plagued his mind, however, and that was not even mentioning the power he felt flowing throughout her slender form. Among his brethren, his spiritual sense was always reveled above even Astarot's, who was said to be almost omniscient. And, although nowhere near the power of a Dragon, it would take a considerably powerful being to manage to injure such a gifted woman. The way she spat the crater's name didn't escape him either. So full of hatred, pain, and an abundance amount of fear had followed its title, not only for what it signified, but also for something else, something he wasn't able to grasp. Viserion didn't know how to feel about it. One thing was for certain, however, the kind lady knew pain.

The woman returned with the clothes as well as some gauze bandages. She handed the clothes to her visitor. "Take these and go into the other room. You can use the bathroom in there to fix yourself up. I'll prepare something for you to eat while you do that." She then looked to his feet. "I'll bandage your feet for you...if you don't mind that is."

The other accepted the bundle and stood. He opened his mouth to deny her request before he saw that hope in her eyes and he immediately snapped shut. She wanted to help him. "Thank you…and your help will be greatly appreciated." he said gratefully. Surprisingly, he found that he meant it too.

She smiled almost clumsily, as if unaccustomed to the action. Viserion thought she looked even better with it. "It's nothing," she said, embarrassed. "I like to believe you would have done the same thing if I was in your shoes."

"I don't think I would have," Viserion replied honestly, taking in her beat up form. He didn't want to get involved in her situation, and the woman had helped him even when she knew she would get nothing from it. Some people were just that much more different. He went in the other room, and just before he closed the door he heard her voice.

"Your eyes…they tell me differently."

Her words comforted him somewhat, and, in an effort to erase them, he studied the room. It was a small bedroom, with a bathroom on one side. He went into the bathroom and turned on the light. What he saw there startled him, until he realized it was a mirror. He studied himself for long minutes, the sharp, defined lines across his rounded cheeks, the tanned complexion, the high, almost feminine brows, and the wild, blond hair that reached his jaw. His eyes were what caught and held his attention. They were large and luminous and seemingly expressive; a glowing cerulean color. He almost understood the woman's words. Almost.

He set about mending his wounds, perching on the toilet seat to examine the extent of the damage to his feet, they were scraped, with some shallow cuts. He removed the small rocks still wedged in his feet before washing it. He then removed the coat, careful with the faded blade hanged on the inside, and jumped in the shower. He was baffled by the complexity of the showerhead and the faucets, but only for a moment, and soon he was enjoying the feel of hot water beating away the tension. It was heavenly, and his sore muscles relaxed under the heated water. Once he stepped out of the tub, he dried himself with a red towel before he donned the clothes he had been giving. The shirt was stretched tight across his chest and the pants were a little too short, but they were clothes, and that was all that mattered to him. Once satisfied, Viserion gathered his belongings and dropped them unceremoniously on top of the stool beside the bed before setting out for the kitchen. He found the woman right in front of a small stove, placed under shelves with various food items and pots that hung on the walls, cooking something that, once its aroma made way to his nose, immediately made his stomach warm in anxiousness.

The woman reddened when she caught sight of him, her olive eyes garnered to his chest. He couldn't help but notice that she looked much better now. Her hair was neat and sleeping garments covered every inch of her. She looked much more relaxed than before. Viserion cleared his throat, slightly pleased with himself even when he knew he shouldn't have cared. Astarot had always been the one feminine species flocked around and Viserion was always the one legging behind the Black Dragon, itching for an opportunity to beat his rival. It felt good for a change. Old habits die hard it seemed. Even now, he was thrilled with just the thought of having an opportunity of beating Astarot.

The woman caught herself, gasping in surprise. "I-I'm so sorry," she bowed in apology with a flurry of movements. "That was rude of me."

"It's nothing," Viserion rubbed the back of his mane unconsciously, and when he realized what he was doing, he immediately came to a halt. Where had that come from? It was like his body was not obeying his commands, but doing things of its own accord. A habit, he recognized with a fear, one that belonged to the carefree blonde that resided in himself. Viserion knew that the past four centuries of slumber had weakened his control over Naruto, and now, due to his enormous loss of power, Naruto was more powerful than ever. It was only a matter of time before he took over.

"How about we fix your feet," the young woman suggested, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sure you'll feel a lot better in the morning if we take care of it right now."

He could only nod in response. She motioned for him to sit down at the small table adjoined with the kitchen, and he complied. She followed him shortly with medical appliances on hand. She smeared something she called disinfectant on his now cleaned injuries, something that made his feet throb for minutes after, before carefully bounding his feet with the gauze she had previously gathered from the bedroom. Once each foot was taken care of, she went to the kitchen, washed her hands and returned with two bowls full of soup, and Viserion gladly accepted. It was warm, and just like chakra, it sent a wave of heat throughout his body that instantly fought against the soreness that sprained his limbs, which were in dire need of rest. He found the food to be one of the most pleasing things humans could make. Already he could feel his chakra levels rising.

"I never did catch your name," the young woman stated casually, sitting down after serving him his fourth bowl of soup and joining her hands under the table.

"No you didn't," Viserion replied matter-of-factly, so concentrated on the delicious soup he was.

The woman chuckled in amusement, a soothing sound that immediately snapped her visitor from his daze. "Well then, will you allow me the pleasure of knowing the name of my guest?"

Viserion found himself once again rubbing the back of his head, this time an infectious grin on his face. He stopped the action immediately, glancing at his trembling hand almost fearfully. "I apologize for that," he did not meet her eyes. "I have no idea what's going on with me today. I guess the attack did more damage than I previously thought." Despite his words, however, he struggled to contain the cheeriness and the high octave that his words wanted to escape with. The frown on his face felt forced.

"It's alright, I understand. Anyone would be traumatized after such an experience," she excused, her soft features growing expectant. Viserion recognized the interest in her eyes, the eagerness to solve the mystery that was her guest. He didn't want to use that dreaded name, but he had no choice. Naruto was taking over sooner or later, no matter what he did. His only hope was to recover the power he had lost in order to bring balance in himself. Then he could choose who he wanted to be.

"Naruto," he nodded at her respectfully. Somehow, after saying the name out loud, he realized with distaste that it suited him much better than Viserion ever had, and he had no clue as to why. "Naruto Uzumaki," he repeated for good measure, referring more to himself than to his companion. "It's a pleasure."

"Naruto, huh?" the woman wondered with a smile, her eyes entirely focused upon his own. "It's certainly unusual, but the name suits you."

Viserion allowed her a nod before returning his attention to the soup, which had grown cold at his brief lapse of attention. He didn't manage one scoop before she stole his attention once more.

"My name is Cassia Orlando," she smiled, suddenly leaning forward with napkin on hand. "The pleasure is all mine."

Viserion allowed her to clean the spot below his mouth, which was now stained with tomato sauce. He nodded at her gratefully before delving back at his soup with renewed eagerness. He ate two more servings, listening as Cassia companionably chatted away. After the meal, Viserion found it hard to keep his eyes open; a full stomach, the warm comfort of the room and the day's exertions were catching up to him.

Cassia, noticing his struggle to remain awake, smiled before standing up to gather the dirty dishes, dismissing Viserion with a wave of her hand as he moved to help. "You need to rest," she stated at his questioning look, carrying the tableware to the sink. "You can use the bedroom I showed you earlier. I take care of the dishes."

Viserion frowned but couldn't find in himself the strength to argue. Mumbling a polite thank you, he organized the table before making his way to the room he had previously used. After closing the door, he pulled back the layers of blankets and crawled beneath them, nestling his head on the soft pillow. Cassia had been able to distract him from the soreness plaguing his body, but now it was back with a vengeance. His eyelids felt heavy, and he's breathing soon became unperturbed, no longer burdened with the fact he had no idea what he would do with himself the next day. Aware that the lights were still on, but too tired to care, he fell asleep almost instantly.

Naruto invaded his mind.


He was drifting.

No sensation, no sound, no feeling. Just the knowledge that he was existing, neither alive nor dead. Hovering just beyond the edge of both. The night was silent and the full moon hung high in the sky, watching the proceedings almost amusedly, with a glow that could've exceled even brighter than the very sun.

A shadow crouched atop a high pillar, silent like a statue, breathing unperturbed and measured, muscles ready to bounce at any given time. Shoulder-length dark hair flailed with the cool breeze, its only source of indiscretion. Red, pin-wheeled eyes suddenly pierced the night sky, focused entirely upon a small, naïve child running with a pleased smile through the small settlement, blind with an innocence that obscured the future, free to enjoy what was fated to be only temporary. The child would have his eyes opened that very night, and hatred would consume him. Not even death would save him.

The pillar was suddenly vacant, and a shriek of utter anguish overcame the darkness…

All the while, the moon watched…

Sasuke sat bolt upright, chest heaving. It took him several moments to realize where he was, that he had been dreaming. He raised his hand before his face to find—in the dim moonlight piercing through the balcony doors by the bedside—that it was trembling violently. He swallowed loudly, and closed his eyes. He could still hear the harsh anguish in the last tremendous cry, could still fell the sorrow, the horror it had created in him.

He slid out from beneath the blankets and padded in the large bathroom. He switched on the light and looked at himself in the mirror. Haunted midnight orbs greeted him, and he could see the shadows lurking beneath their gaze, the remnants of his nightmare. His mass of dark hair was twisted and disheveled, as if he'd been trashing in his sleep. He raised his hand and pressed it to the mirror, not surprised to find his image making coherent movements of its own.

"Astarot," he greeted with a frown. He never did like his counterpart. "What do you want?"

Astarot smiled good-naturedly, and Sasuke was somehow drawn to the smile reminding him of the boy in his nightmares, full of innocence and wonder. It was why he despised his counterpart. That he possessed something Sasuke, the other half of his person, had lost. He knew, however, that Astarot was anything but innocent. Behind that smile marred a loneliness and pain few could envision, much like he himself carried the same pain. But then again, they were counterparts, there couldn't be one without the other.

"Nothing really," Astarot replied, either missing or blatantly ignoring his annoyed glare. Sasuke knew it was the latter. "I merely desired to see for myself how my counterpart fared."

"Then, I believe, your curiosity was fulfilled," Sasuke said dismissively. "Leave me be." He removed his hand from the mirror before gyrating the left golden handle by the sink, both his hands cupping the cold water that hit his palms, washing his face. The cold liquid immediately cleared the drowsiness still lingering his mind, and the nightmares became much easier to supress.

"I believe not, Sasuke," the smile had disappeared, and now an expression of cold detachment blemished the Dragon God's face. "We had a deal, and I expect you to keep your part of it."

"I know," Sasuke said quietly, trying to hide his annoyance. "I don't need you reminding me every damn second." His acute hearing had picked up the stifled moans the moment he awakened. The child was having nightmares again. He reached for a white towel hanging to his left. After cleaning his face and turning off the lights, he promptly made his way to the room now adjoined to his. He had grown tired of having to walk through the whole mansion in order to reach the girl's bedroom, and so he'd connected their rooms after much prompting from Astarot. He loathed the arrangement, but the girl seemed to love it. And in the end, her happiness meant everything.

The light was on, and Sasuke knew the girl's caretaker had already arrived at the scene. He quietly entered the room, finding a frantic old woman trying to sooth the hysterical child with soothing melodies even Sasuke had grown to appreciate. The purple haired girl continued to sob in her arms, however, trying to push her caretaker away with feeble efforts. The old woman didn't relinquish, running a calm hand at the child's back. She should've realized by now that it never worked on Kagura. Nothing ever did.

"Lord Sasuke!" the caretaker cried in surprise once she caught sight of him, prompting the small bundle in her arms to stop her quailing, curious golden eyes peeking over the old lady's shoulder. She squealed excitedly at the raven, extending her arms in a silent plea. Gathering herself, the caretaker offered the girl over. "I apologize for the disturbance," she said, "I was hoping I would be able to accommodate her before she had the opportunity to disturb your rest."

Kagura eagerly crawled at the raven's waiting arms, prompting Sasuke to push her against his chest, arms expertly positioning themselves under the child. She rested her head at the crook of his neck and brought her hands to her mouth, sucking her thumb almost eagerly. "I realize now that the effort was useless," the caretaker added softly, seeing how comfortable the child seemed with her rather intimidating master.

Sasuke nodded, frowning slight when he felt the distinctive feel of saliva running down his neck. He should've been used to it by now. He readjusted her against his person, feeling glad, at the very least, he had fallen asleep with a shirt on this time.

"You can go back to sleep, Martha," Sasuke said, inspecting the girl's half-lidded eyes. They were overwhelmed with fear. Nightmares were affecting her again.

Martha wanted to argue but she knew better. It would change nothing. She bowed, "I bid you goodnight, Lord Sasuke."

She closed the door behind her.

Sasuke sighed heavily, the day's frustrations catching up to him. Golden eyes looked up at him questionably.

"What at you looking at?" He asked the girl rather harshly.

Kagura tilted her head, mumbling something Sasuke couldn't care less about.

"I have no idea what you're saying, girl."

She pursued her lips together in a pout, hurt in her huge eyes as her lips trembled.

"What did I do now?" He held her away from him, a sense of urgency overcoming him. He knew what she was about to do if he didn't fix whatever he had done soon.

She pointed to her bed, once again mumbling incoherent words.

"I hate children," he muttered to himself, making his way toward the queen sized bed leaning against the wall. He situated himself on the soft mattress, positioning the pillows behind him before carefully altering the drowsy child to his side. She crawled at his hand demandingly, a cry escaping her lips. Sasuke grew irritated. He knew exactly what she wanted. "I can't believe I'm doing this again…" He altered his body to the side, his long arms hooking around her form and crushing her to his chest. A contented sigh and the girl was fast asleep.

"This is, no doubt, the most amusing part of the day," a deep voice resonated within his mind almost mockingly. "To think I would get to see the day the great Uchiha Sasuke grew used to snuggling with a child. How the mighty have fallen."

"Shut it, Astarot," Sasuke scowled darkly. "This won't last forever. She will grow up, and when she does, I will have the upper hand in this little game of ours."

"We both know you won't be capable of the act by then, Sasuke," the Dragon God replied quietly, as if afraid the child would hear him. "In fact, I doubt you could even do it now. You are far too attached. You wouldn't be doing this otherwise."

Sasuke remained silent, knowing his counterpart spoke the truth.

"What will you do concerning Viserion?" Astarot suddenly asked, abruptly changing the subject. "He is once again roaming Earthland, and he will no doubt aim to save his son."

"I will leave him be. He will be my bait."

"I suspected as much," Astarot sighed.

"Viserion is the only logical answer," Sasuke replied, knowing Astarot saw the logic behind his plan. "He will never reveal himself otherwise."

"I know, and I will trust you on this, Sasuke," the Dragon God said. His tone then grew threatening. "But if Viserion should harm Kagura, I can't promise I will remain silent."

"I know," Sasuke looked at the smiling angel in his arms. Her small hands gripped the black fabric that was his shirt and she pressed her legs against his stomach, squirming against him. She was adorable, he would give her that. "Trust me, I know. I had no part in it, but Kagura belongs to me. I will allow noone to take those who belong to me away. Never again."

"I will hold you up to that. That girl is our future. Then and only then, will we become one." Astarot's presence disappeared from his mind.

The lights went off and Sasuke slowly fell asleep, and he knew this time nightmares would not plague his mind. He would never admit it aloud, but he didn't sleep with the child only because it shut her up. He also slept with her because she was the only one capable of making the horrors, which constantly inundated his mind, disappear as if they never happened in the first place.

She is the only thing that matters to him. Her and his revenge.


When Viserion awoke, it was to the sound of voices. Sleepily, he rolled over and listened. Cassia's voice and two others, both higher and filled with fear. Thin rays of light trickled through a small window above his head, blocked out for the most part by a heavy curtain. He yawned and stretched before getting out of the bed and heading toward the bathroom. He washed his face and hair before drying it with the red towel he had previously used. He found some new clothes awaiting him atop the dresser by the bathroom. A note was attached to it.

I'm sure these will be a much better fit.

Cassia ;)

He looked down at the new clothes. A turtleneck long-sleeved shirt and pants with the same dark color, two white gloves, and an orange long coat with three tails and a snake like patterns on the right side of the jacket. A pair of boots accompanied the outfit, copper and littered with straps to secure the uppermost part, fit for traveling. The color of the coat pleased him immensely, and the fact no longer bothered him as much as it should. That was when he knew Naruto was quickly taking over.

That too, no longer mattered.

He quickly discarded the clothes he previously adorned, and fitted himself in the much more comfortable ones. The leather was soft and comfortable, expensive, and he knew Cassia had to have spent a lot of money in order to buy such extraordinary clothing. He reminded himself to thank her profusely. He owned her more than she would ever know and he always paid his debts in full. That was, at the very least, one quality both his personas shared. After making sure his sleeves and boots were properly strapped in place, he made his way to the living room, where the voices had grown louder and even more frantic.

"—it's too dangerous, Cassia!" A bearded, white haired elder all but shouted at the stunned woman sitting on the couch. Dark circles marred her eyes and her long, dark hair was twisted and knotted, and Viserion knew she had gotten little sleep the previous night. "You are indeed a powerful mage, but you are no longer as strong as you once were. Childbirth had weakened you considerably and you're only getting weaker as time goes on. You saw what happened yesterday when you tried to take on those monsters. You didn't stand a chance!" the man continued, voice growing softer. "What you're suggesting is suicide. I cannot allow you to do that." He placed a comforting hand on Cassia's shoulder, yet she kept her head low shamefully, not meeting his eyes. "You have done more than enough. It's time we do our part."

The other man in the room nodded. He was sitting beside Cassia, hands joined and a forlorn expression set on his face. He was young and handsome, smooth blonde hair to the side and deep, emerald eyes. "It's high time we stopped relying on you," he said, looking at Cassia with longing in his eyes. "It's our turn to do our share." Confliction briefly crossed his eyes before he set his strong jaw with resolve. "Besides, you still have to find your daughter. You can't very well do that if you're dead."

Cassia looked up then, tears welling in her eyes. She nodded, not trusting her voice.

Both men smiled, glad to have made the woman see reason.

"But what about the town, Elder?" Cassia asked as soon as she found her voice, trying to contain her stifles as she looked to the older man. "If we don't do something soon everything will be lost. We cannot afford to hire a mage strong enough to battle all of those creatures, and I'm the only other person willing to do it for free. Everything will be lost."

The Elder shook his head. "The stars will come out only when it gets dark. Don't lose hope just yet."

"That blind faith of yours will be your downfall," Viserion made his presence known, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway. "You want something done, you have to do it yourself."

The three startled, looking over at him with astonishment clear in their faces. The Elder's haughty laugh caught the blonde by surprise. "That is certainly a way to view things," he said, wise eyes trailing down Viserion's impressive physique with a brow raised in question. "But I'm afraid we will have to agree to disagree."

"Naruto," Cassia greeted warmly, a small smile making way to her face. "Did you sleep well?"

He nodded, offering her a comforting smile. There was a question in her eyes, but she was hesitant, eyeing the two other men in the room.

"Oh," the old man drawled, smiling jovially, as if he'd just discovered the secret of life. "The man young Cassia helped last night, is that so?"

"That's right, Elder," Cassia confirmed. "His name is Uzumaki Naruto."

"Hello," said the elder warmly, offering a hand. "My name is Raiquis Matru. I am the elder of this wonderful town."

Viserion grasped the offered hand with a respectful nod.

The Elder then gestured to the man at Cassia's side, who was looking at the Dragon God as if determining if he was friend or foe. "That is my son, Shun." Shun frowned at him, coming to a conclusion. Definitely a foe, but for what, Viserion didn't know.

Viserion nodded at the young man, more for appearances sake than anything. He was a friend of Cassia's, he would act accordingly.

"He's the strong silent type," the elder muttered with a wink, hiding his secretive grin with a palm. "I don't know who he got it from."

"Father," Shun called, frowning. "It's time to go."

The Elder frowned as he checked his watch before looking at Viserion with something akin to disappointment. "I would love to stay and meet our guest, but I'm afraid I have things I need to take care of. Those blasted creatures are not going to kill themselves."

Shun got up to lead his father with a hand on his back, pushing the reluctant older man almost forcefully. "I see you later, Cassia," he called behind him before exiting the building.

Cassia stared at the closed door a moment longer before making her way to the kitchen, gesturing Viserion to follow suit. He could almost feel her concern for the town and something else, something he wasn't quite sure of. He knew the monsters had fled the mountain the moment he had awakened for fear of his power, but he did not know how to tell her this. He would have to allow her to find out for herself, he decided. He could not afford to have questions directed at him.

Cassia suddenly stopped walking, turning towards him, shoulders stiff and eyes guarded. "Do you know Uchiha Sasuke?"

Viserion was caught off-guard. The name resonated in his mind, and memories came flashing through. Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto's eternal rival, the one person he was never able to beat. The same face that had looked down on him during his brief lapse of control flashed before his eyes, and it was all he could do to remain standing.

"How do you know that name?" Naruto finally asked, managing to keep his voice from shaking.

"Everyone knows his name," Cassia replied calmly. "But I ask because those clothes you're wearing were sent specifically by him."

He looked down at the exquisite orange coat. No wonder. "I see," Naruto nodded. He didn't want to give away anything, but he owned her an explanation. "Sasuke…he's an old friend of mine. I didn't know he knew of my whereabouts." The last part was indeed the truth.

She was silent for a moment.

"He also sent a letter," she informed as her shoulders shook with grief, avoiding his gaze. His eyes trailed down her arm, finding the letter crumbled in-between her fist, something he had completely missed before. "He said that I could trust you. He said that you would lead me to Kaguya. That you were destined for my daughter."

And then everything made sense.

An opportunity to become one.


AU: Naruto nor Sasuke will be joining FT, I get tired of the repetitive crap. This fic will diverge from FT canon. Some characters are going to die, others will live. Yeah, Sasuke and Naruto are ninjas, so they will kill. The pairings should be obvious. Naruto will be more like his father in this fiction because of Viserion, and Sasuke will be no different, just like Viserion is almost like Minato, Astarot is kind like Itachi. Update should be here next week, I hope.