A/N: ATTENTION: Chapters 1 & 2 reuploaded as one chapter. Little bit tacked on at the end. ^.^
Disclaimer: I don't own all Final Fantasy references, i.e. Summoned Monsters, normal monsters, monstrous monsters called bosses, non-monster creatures, spells, etc. I do, however, own my personal Cid, even if I don't own his name, and Impiana, World of Dreams, and all other original characters within. Final Fantasy characters were borrowed for my (and my readers', if any) entertainment. I'm not making any money out of this, nor do I own anything of value, so don't sue me.

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Final Fantasy - Dragon's Crest
1 - The Prolouge

At first, the Dragon's Crest was merely a symbol of power, passed down from each king to his heir. But when the peoples of the Worlds learnt to harness the power of Magic, the Crest was enchanted, imbued with the power to control the Dragons of the Worlds. Stolen away from the Dragons, incessant wars were fought by power-hungry kingdoms over this artifact. Until, one day, the Crest disappeared. Vanished, from the deepest vaults of the greatest fortress in the Sixth World.

For a thousand years of relative peace, broken only by the odd megalomaniac, the Dragon's Crest was in the keeping of Bahamut, the current King of the Dragons, and the Lord of the Guardians. But the Crest has been stolen by Tiamat, Queen of the Dark Dragons, second in command of the greatest evil the Worlds have ever known, Chaos, Demon King, and his army of fiends. If they should master the Crest, there is no telling what may happen to the civilizations of the Worlds….

***

The man strode resolutely to the gateway, determination etched on every line of his face. At first glance, the man, with his fine, handsome features, flowing hair like spun gold and well-made clothes, may have passed as any young, human noble. But on closer scrutiny, the man appeared ageless; an aura of power, unsettling, though not frightening, seemed to radiate from him. Wisdom and intelligence were reflected in his clear, forest green eyes. A large pack was slung from his shoulders, and a sword hung at his side.

At the sight of the two also apparently human figures standing in the gateway, the man stopped and sighed, torn between amusement and annoyance. One of the figures was obviously male, tall and muscular, with a rugged face and an unruly shock of auburn hair. He wore a reddish-brown vest, loose baggy, pale brown pants and black boots. A pair of bronze armlets decorated his forearms and a single gold hoop earring was pierced into the edge of his right ear.

The other was a slim, graceful woman. Apart from her fair, rosy skin, almost everything about her was blue. Her waist-length dark blue hair had been brushed straight back from her face, and styled into an elaborate braid, fastened with a band of gold. She wore a long, sleeveless powder-blue dress, gathered at the waist with a pale purple sash. A midnight blue traveler's cloak was draped over one arm. In the other, she held her tasseled rod of mythril. Her pale blue eyes, like the sea reflected in a glacier, were fixed on him.

"Shiva, Ifrit, what are you two doing here?" sighed Bahamut. After his explicit orders, he had not expected anyone to come after him.

"We're coming with you," said Ifrit. Normally, the Fire Guardian would have appeared as a fire demon, hairy, lionlike and horned. Now, he had taken the form of a human, much like Bahamut himself.

"No."

"No? Just no?" asked Shiva, arching an eyebrow. Like Ifrit, the Ice Guardian had also taken human form, although the only difference was her skin colour. And her ears were a little less pointy.

"Yes. I mean, no. I can't let you come along," replied Bahamut.

"You've got to give us a better reason than 'no' if you expect us to let you go out and get your crest back on your own, milord," said Shiva coolly. "Ifrit here and I don't agree on much, but we do agree that you're not going alone."

Inwardly, Bahamut sighed again. Shiva and Ifrit, among the most experienced of the Guardians, a race of mystical beings sworn to protect the Worlds and their people, were fast friends of his. He knew, all right, that they would try something like this. But he couldn't let them come along. The danger involved in challenging Tiamat was great. And outside the Guardians' Plane, the Guardians lost almost all power, forcing them to take the form of a human. The only exception was if they were Summoned, magically pulled from the Guardians' Plane by the people known as Summoners to aid them in battle. And even that only lasted a couple of minutes before they had to retreat to their plane. He himself might not return. He could not put his friends in this danger.

"You can't," he tried. "While I'm gone, someone has to handle the business at the castle."

"Isn't that the excuse you used to make Phoenix stay behind?" asked Ifrit, with an expression very similar to Shiva's. Bahamut looked at his toes. Phoenix… she would worry. But more so than Shiva and Ifrit, he could not let his beloved wife come along. Besides…

"She was pregnant," said Bahamut flatly, raising his head to meet Ifrit's gaze. "Do you two even know the danger…"

"…Involved? That's exactly why we're coming along!" said Shiva and Ifrit in perfect unison, then blinked and glared at the other.

"Look, Bahamut, remember all those groups of heroes we've helped? At least three groups of 'em have kicked Tiamat's ass before," said Ifrit.

"And the word here is group, Bahamut. They couldn't have done it alone. What we're saying is, you'll have a better chance if we go in a group, mystical Guardian's Powers or not," continued Shiva. Bahamut blinked.

"…You rehearsed this, didn't you?" asked Bahamut suspiciously. Shiva and Ifrit almost never agreed. This would be the first recorded case of one finishing the other's sentence. Shiva laughed.

"It was Phoenix's idea. No, wait," she said, as Bahamut began to open his mouth. "We would've come after you anyway. Um, and since I specialize in Black Magic and Ifrit specializes in… brawn over brain," Ifrit gave her a deadly glare at this, "Phoenix is sending a healer along," she continued, ignoring Ifrit's stare, instead staring at something over Bahamut's shoulder.

Bahamut frowned and turned. The object of Shiva's attention was a girl who looked to be in her teens, running towards them. Her hair, flying wildly as she ran, was a soft shade of green, cut in a layered style. Bangs were kept off her face by a white bandanna. She wore a pink tunic-style dress that came down to her knees over a white shirt, and scuffed, brown boots. Her eyes were large and sapphire blue. A backpack that was slung over one shoulder swung to and fro dangerously, threatening to give anyone that came too close a very painful bruise.

"Carbuncle?!" asked Bahamut incredulously. Of all the Guardians… Carbuncle wasn't exactly the most powerful. Playful and mischievous, she wouldn't have been Bahamut's first choice. She was a skilled White Mage, talented in the defensive magics, however. Perhaps her talent for defence was why Phoenix had chosen her.

"I'msosorryI'mlate," panted Carbuncle as she skidded to a halt. "Lord Bahamut? Lady Phoenix says I'm to go along with you," she said cheerfully. "Oh, and she asked me to give this to you," she said, pulling a pouch from her belt.

"Thank you," said Bahamut, taking the pouch and opening it. Inside were red feathers, long, silky and tipped with gold. He smiled. Phoenix Pinions. She was so considerate. The Guardians were obviously incapable of summoning each other, but Phoenix Pinions, wing feathers from the legendary birds of that species, when used, would call the previous owner of the crimson plumage to the user's aid. These were the Guardian Phoenix, Bahamut's wife's own feathers.

Ifrit cleared his throat, bringing Bahamut out of his reverie. "Shall we get going?" he asked, rather pointedly. Bahamut nodded and fastened the pouch to his own belt. Shiva and Ifrit lifted the backpacks that had sat by their feet. Without a further word, the party of four left for the Pintu Grove.

Eidolon Castle, so named for an ancient word for 'spirit' as well as the name the Summoners of the Ninth World had given the Guardians, was soon left behind them. Ahead lay Pintu Grove, a collection of interdimensional gateways, created by Atomos and Diablos, surrounded by a dense ring of fir trees. As they approached, the portals, vertical pools of swirling colour, sprang to life. Strange, beautiful melodies came from each.

"Which one are we taking, milord?" asked Carbuncle curiously. Bahamut closed his eyes and concentrated. The trace of the Crest's power…he could feel it, even through the void of extradimensional space. That one… no, that one. Bahamut opened his eyes.

"This one," he said, gesturing to a portal that swirled blue, purple, then orange. "Carbuncle?"

"Yes?"

"Don't call me 'milord' or by my title. We don't need to look suspicious."

"Yes, …uh… Bahamut."

As the Guardians stepped through the portal, the melody soared until it eclipsed the song of the others. When it had died down, the gateways had closed, leaving Pintu Grove as empty and silent as it had been before.

***

Whirls of colour. Darkness and light. Images that flashed into view for an instant, before being left far behind. It seemed as though she were on a moving pathway that moved at the speed of light. Bubbles, each seeming to contain a great castle, a city of glass, a flowery meadow, lined the Astral Path. Carbuncle, for all her dimension-hopping experience, felt awed by the beauty of it all. Each was a window into a different place, whether within the same dimension or not, she did not know. Then their destination loomed ahead. Carbuncle's mind had just barely registered the image of a green, grassy glade before she was thrown straight into it.

"Ow! Get off me, you big oaf!" yelled Shiva. Being thrown out of a portal isn't fun, especially if you're in a group. You tend to end up in a tangled heap. As it was, Shiva had ended up on the bottom, Ifrit right on top and Carbuncle flung against both their sides with the tasseled end of Shiva's rod jabbing her in the ribs. Bahamut had been thrown clear, right into a clump of shrubbery.

"I'm trying!" yelled back Ifrit, rolling off and getting jabbed on the bottom end of the hollow mythril rod for his pains. "Damnit, woman, that rod hurts!"

"That's because it's a weapon," muttered Shiva, getting up and brushing herself off. "Some of us don't rely on fists and pure muscle power."

"Was that a compliment?" asked Ifrit with a cheeky grin, seated on the ground and rubbing his bruised side.

"Gah, never mind," Shiva muttered, throwing her arms up. She pulled her rod from under Ifrit and considered smacking him over the head with it, but thought the better of it.

"Where's my bandanna?" asked Carbuncle absently, hunting around the glade with a hand over her forehead.

"Why'd you need it?" asked Shiva. Her eyes widened. "Don't tell me you still have the gem there…."

Carbuncle nodded miserably and dropped her hand. A scarlet gem, glowing softly with a reddish light, was set in her forehead, contrasting with her pale bluish green hair. "Can't seem to get rid of it when I transform."

Shiva bit her lip. "You can't let anyone see that…."

"Whose would this be?" came a muffled voice from a bush. An arm in a purple sleeve poked out of the bush, clutching a white bandanna.

"Mine!" yelled Carbuncle, running to the bush and giving the arm a good pull. Covered in leaves and scratches, Bahamut came tumbling out.

"Thank you," he mumbled from his undignified position on the ground, passing the bandanna to Carbuncle, who gratefully tied it securely around her forehead, hiding the gem.

By the time they had collected themselves and their packs, which had done their very best to land in unfortunate positions, such as hanging on a very high branch or sitting on a rock right in the middle of a nearby stream, the sun had progressed from the eastern horizon to its zenith.

"Right. Now, who knows this world, and where's the nearest town?" asked Bahamut, overly cheerfully. The other three stared at him.

"You don't know this world?" asked Shiva incredulously. "I thought you'd been everywhere! And you actually expected to find Tiamat? On your own?" The mage looked just about ready to pummel him with her rod, king or no. Ifrit cracked his knuckles, looking much the same. Carbuncle had the makings of a Cure spell gathering in her cupped hands. "Just in case you need it," she said cheerfully, glaring daggers at him at the same time.

Bahamut held up his hands. "I'm kidding! We're on Impiana, the World of Dreams."

"World of …Dreams?" Carbuncle echoed. "Like in what we experience when we sleep? Is this place illusory?"

Bahamut shook his head. "No. Dreams… as in fantasies," he said quietly. "I've been here before with Atomos," he continued, more cheerfully. There's a mage city, Syhir, downstream."

"Then let's get moving!" bellowed Ifrit, taking off downstream at a quick jog. The rest of them shrugged and followed.

Welcome to Impiana, World of Dreams. Obligatory Chocobos, Moogles and Cid included. Ditzy damsels-in-distress and spoony bards are extra.

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A/N: Please review if you've enjoyed this 'fic. In fact, review even if you hate it, so I'll know where I've gone wrong. ^.^ Be constructive, please. Flames will be used to amplify Firaga and tossed back.