A/N: Final rewrite!! Chyah! Just a note for everyone, the ages in the last chapter were accurate, Tifa was in fact nine at the time of the accident and since she's a year younger than Cloud . . . Well, actually, I might have skewed it, because another source said they were eight and nine . . . So, I hope you're liking the additional depth so far, let's see what I can do with this chapter! Once I post the following chapter, you lot are sure going to have a lot of reading to do –grins widely– Make sure to read every chapter!

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Tempest The Turk

Part 1

Chapter 5

Quicksilver

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Nibelheim, Western Continent

05:22 (GST +9) August 19, 1987

It was a normal dream, Cloud was back in Kalm, walking through the village with her father, it was still early and he was taking her to buy a present for her mother's birthday.

"What about a new pair of earrings?" he asked, looking over at the jewelry store, "She's always loved earrings. . ."

"I think a necklace would be better, I saw this pendant shaped like Odin a few days ago, isn't he her family's patron Summon?"

"True," he nodded, "She used to have one of those when you were little, she lost it during that fire five years ago."

"What's our Summon again?"

"Originally it was the three incarnations of Bahamut, but we also answer to Knights of the Round and Shiva, one of our ancestors married a woman from Round Island when there were still people there and we were in Junon for several generations."

"So, Bahamut is our primary, the Knights are our secondary and Shiva is our . . . tertiary?" she struggled over the unfamiliar word.

"That's right, have you been studying hard again?" he smiled proudly as she nodded, "That's my girl."

She gasped when he suddenly disappeared and spun at the sudden silence to find that the rest of the town was abandoned. Even as she looked, it seemed to age, as if it had been empty for years. The watch towers were crumbling, the water tower was rusted and filled with holes, the water within long gone, broken windows creaked in the still air . . .

"So . . . you are the one," The blonde turned to find a blurry figure standing only a few feet away, their form masked by shadows, the only thing clear were their wings. "Such a weak child."

Some small part of her mind told Cloud she should be afraid, she should be running, getting as far from this entity as she could. This . . . thing wasn't supposed to be here.

This was wrong.

"But you have potential," Shade growled in anger, half-raising a hand as if to wrap it around her throat, "Great potential, just as they said you would . . ."

Where before she had been frozen in place, now she found herself ducking as something flew overhead and the wind stirred by it's wings sent the stranger skidding back with an angry snarl. The newcomer landed between them, it's large form blocking her from the interloper's sight.

She wasn't paying attention to that, all her attention was on the DRAGON that had appeared before her. Unlike the dragons that occupied the mountain, this draconic being was somehow elegant despite it's large size, almost . . . feminine in appearance. Each of her perfectly smooth scales was like mythril, a silver tinted by blue. Polished ivory spikes adorned her wings menacingly and twin horns just as magnificent aimed rearward.

There was a power there beneath the surface, a power far greater than a normal monster, this was a true dragon of myth. Kin to Bahamut himself, a dragon of great power and wisdom. Draconan. Protector of Humanity . . .

The dragon's actions distracted her from her observations as she hissed her threat at the Shade. When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly melodic, but the pleasant effect it should have given was twisted by venomous anger.

'You will not touch her! Begone!' the voice rang through not only the air, but their minds as well, despite this, the stranger merely smirked, an action visible despite the shadows.

"And if I do not?"

'Then I shall make you wish to burn in the hottest fires of the Netherworld!' the growl was accompanied by white flames leaking from her jaws.

"Damned lizard," the winged figure muttered spitefully but faded out in departure all the same.

With a whuff of smoke, the dragon sat back on her haunches and craned her neck to look back at Cloud, black-slit violet orbs warm and surprisingly gentle, 'I will always protect you, little sister, be it mentally or physically, I will always come for you.'

She shifted and nuzzled her hair fondly, a sound not unlike a purr vibrating through the touch, causing her to close her eyes . . .

Only to open them to the sight of her bedroom ceiling as the feeling faded away. Sitting up, her gaze slid over the shapes forming on the floor from the morning light passing through her window.

"What a weird dream . . ." Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she shifted to let her feet touch the cold floor, waking her up further as she reached under her pillow. Father had always said that dreams could hold important messages and that she should write them down if they seemed significant.

The mildly scuffed tawny cover of the little-used journal he'd given her for her fifth birthday in hand, she pulled a tooth-marked pen from . . . somewhere also known as the floor and started to write.

August, 1987

My dream was fairly normal at first, I don't remember ever hearing about the family Summons before . . . someone or something interrupted it though.

I couldn't see the person's face, and their voice was too neutral to accurately assume their gender. Their features were hidden by shadows but I know two things for certain, they had a very unique set of wings, six of them, all tinted violet and that this person is bad news.

Shade, I suppose I'll call them for now, Shade called me weak and said something about someone saying I had great potential for something, something that threatened it. I wasn't able to discover any more than that, because a Dragon, yes, a DRAGON, stepped, or rather flew in to interrupt. She was beautiful, the color of mythril with the strangest purple eyes.

I don't know her name but after calling me little sister and her oath to protect me, I could feel the truth and honesty in her words, I don't think she could have lied to me even if she tried . . . who is she?

And why are they interested in me?

Setting her pen down, she watched absently as it rolled across the drying ink, leaving light marks along the way, then fell to the floor, bumped into the chest and ricocheted under the bed where it stopped almost immediately upon coming in contact with a piece of misplaced laundry.

Mind somewhat numb as the particulars of her dream faded away, she looked around her room, eyes falling on some of the more important items that littered it.

A photo on the shelf of the day her father came back from Midgar for the last time, still wearing his uniform, he held her four-year-old self in his left arm while his right was wrapped around a younger Piper's waist as someone, probably Leo, took the photo.

A half-colored sketch was tacked to the wall behind her, depicting a child in orange with chocobo feathers instead of hair and yellow-feathered wings on her back. Lounging on a boulder beside the child was a serpentine woman with leathery wings dressed in gray and behind the both of them was a third figure, a shadowy man with torn black wings and grey skin dressed in red, his eyes, one golden the other crimson, seeming to dare anyone who saw them to touch the picture at risk of their well-being.

Ariadne had quite the interesting imagination, didn't she?

Next, was the special fire-proof metal of her keepsake box, barely visible from beneath the edge of her bookcase. It was about two feet long, one wide and six inches thick, made out of a thick insulated metal alloy that Sky had bought for her when she was born, he hadn't given it to her for several more years, after he'd gotten multiple locks installed on it for her. Most of the time, she kept her triple-locked Materia Box inside it, several of her father's things, like his journals and Shinra-issue materia bangle, various papers and pictures as well as a very special weapon that her father had rarely used even before he left Shinra, a prototype that had gone unused as only a natural with both the sword and firearms could use one without years of intense training. Like with his sword, Piper had refused to get rid of it, instead saving it for some unspoken time.

The next item was a pair of plated gloves, a joint 'thank you' and 'early birthday present' from both Tifa and Zangan, at the time, Zangan had also offered to take her into his lessons, but she had refused, giving the excuse that she didn't want to disrupt his class with her presence, though really, it was because she already had a perfectly good teacher. The nice thing about the plating was that it wasn't obvious, which meant when she used them, sentient opponents would be rather surprised by the hardness of any blows.

Finally, her eyes fell on the homemade calendar tacked to the wall, several day boxes crossed out with black while the most recent one and it's labeling was circled in red. Cloud's lips turned into a wide grin, she'd been waiting weeks for today. Weeks of having a hard time concentrating in both training and studying as she anticipated the special day.

After all, every child looks forward to their birthday, don't they?

Realizing the ink had finally dried, the blonde snapped the journal shut and tucked it away before preparing for the day in a whirlwind of motion. Her new gloves yanked onto her hands and all her wayward clothing collected at some point in the chaotic process. She paused in the newly opened door for half a second, nose noting that her mother was awake and cooking.

Cloud abruptly turned back into the room when she realized her right wrist didn't feel quite right and snatched her Armlet from where it had fallen on the floor and slipping it back into it's rightful place on her wrist. Now she was fully 'armed' just like the three Shinra-touched fighters had ingrained into her instincts.

It wasn't really that bad, to be eleven and already be trained for battle, was it? Sometimes she felt older than the calendar told her she was, but that was easy to explain, wasn't it, you age when you see death for the first time.

Descending the stairs, she thought she heard voices, but reaching the bottom and seeing only her mother washing the pans she used for breakfast, the blonde dismissed it as her imagination.

"Good Morning, Cloud!" Piper smiled brightly and abandoned the dishes to set out a plate of food as her daughter approached the table. "Zangan and I are going to Stonheim for some supplies, you can find something to keep yourself busy while I'm gone, can't you?"

"Um, of course, Mother," the younger blonde stumbled over her words in surprise. She was going to Stonheim today? Did she . . . forget?

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Nibelheim, Western Continent

05:28 (GST +9) August 19, 1987

"Cloud's eleven today," Piper smiled as she finished her work over the stove and set out plates, her eyes trailing to the flat package on the counter neatly wrapped in plain brown paper.

"Excuse me, Ms. Strife?" the blonde straightened sharply at the voice and turned to find a stranger standing only a few feet away, why hadn't she heard her come in? She should have heard the door squeak, it needed oil and she hadn't gotten around to it yet.

"Yes?" she estimated the woman was in her twenties, but she never was that good at guessing someone's age.

"I was wondering if you could help me with something . . ."

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Nibelheim, Western Continent

06:24 (GST +9) August 19, 1987

The blonde was so depressed as she made her way to the Manor that she didn't notice a grey-clad form slip past her, heading for the western entrance, the one that lead to Stonheim. Mercury eyes gazed back at the girl for a moment, a thoughtful frown creasing the owner's lips before she disappeared.

The monsters of the Manor proved wise that morning, giving Cloud a wide berth as she headed for the depths, maybe they were as aware of emotion as some scientists claimed or maybe they were simply asleep, but they didn't bother her whatsoever.

She paused in the room with the secret passage, looking over at the bed that Aria had claimed for her own, the sheets neatly lying there stated she'd already woken up. On the table beside the bed rested a pile of thin books and a necklace she didn't recognize. Listening hard, she heard silence from the next room over, so she knew neither one was in the den as Cloud had mentally dubbed it, it probably had a different name, though.

Shaking her head she continued down, finally following the sound of typing to the room that had held Aria frozen. The lights were off, leaving him barely illuminated by the low light of the screen.

"Vincent?" Cloud looked into the dimly lit room curiously, they never really came in here, well, sometimes she found Aria in there, staring at the tube that had held her, but she and Vincent never came in there.

Both clawed and un-clawed hands paused their work and he turned his head slightly, "Hm?"

"What're you doing?"

"Searching for any information of Ariadne's past," the vampiric man stated as he typed something and frowned, "The encryption is much more advanced than anything I've seen before." She nearly giggled at his use of Aria's full name, it was an ongoing argument between the two, he only called her Aria when she called him Vincent, but as she insisted on calling him Vin so much, he'd decided to retort by calling her Ariadne. They were a very odd pair.

"Do you know where she went?" He hadn't remembered either then. . .

Vincent shook his head, returning his attention to the screen as a new line of coding appeared, "I haven't seen her today."

The blonde sighed heavily and shook her head, she remembered telling them both when her birthday was, it seemed that they must have forgotten. She might as well get to studying again, perhaps skim through the Shakame soi Risat?

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Nibelheim, Western Continent

18:03 (GST +9) August 19, 1987

She was trying to translate an entry on the different affinities of the Cetra when she thought she heard something.

There were several different kinds of Cetra, some more common than others. The rarest were the Sharan, the Warrior-Mages. A Sharan trained from childhood in the art of mixing magic with a weapon. Fierce warriors who followed a strict Code of Honor, the path of Sharan was not hereditary like most, instead, they were marked by the planet with purple eyes. Next came the Varela, the Earth-Speakers, these Cetra were known for their ability to commune with plant-life and were very passive beings. Varela were scholars and healers by nature and it pained them greatly to harm anyone.

Then, there was a third type, the Marsai, the Beast-Speakers, unlike their honor-bound and passive cousins, the Marsai are a people tainted by wanderlust, bonded to another being's mind from childhood, they would take on many characteristics of their bond-mate. They were by far the most diverse of Cetra. Avians were flighty and loved high and windy places. Canines were protective and traveled in groups, playful and loyal with a love of the hunt. Felines were aloof, elegant and patient. The characteristics they took on were not only mental but often physical: Avians were small and slender, built for speed, Canines were wiry, physical powerhouses and Felines were tall with a subtle grace, often with slit pupils.

Though, slit pupils were also a draconic trait she now knew, it wasn't documented anywhere as no one cared to get close enough to take a closer look. Had there ever been a dragon-bound Cetra? Or a snake-bound for that matter?

Cloud shook her head and looked around warily, she could've sworn she'd heard someone just now, was she just being paranoid? She set down the encyclopedia and notes quietly and stood up.

Creak.

She was looking around the end of the bookcase in seconds to see only books.

Creak.

Nothing behind her . . . she waited for another creak and inwardly cursed when all she received was silence. Where in Shiva's name had whatever it was gone? It wasn't a monster was it? She hadn't seen anything heavy and quick enough to do this around here.

Black Bats, Dorky Faces, Ghirofelgos, Jerseys, Mirages, Yings and Yangs were more than enough. Though, it was quite rare to see them inside anymore, they'd learned to fear the trio and you never saw Sahagin, those stayed in the sewer tunnels beneath the basement, were Hojo would dispose of his failures.

The blonde shrieked as something jumped in front of her but sheepishly stifled it as she recognized the raven-haired woman, laughter in her silver eyes as she shook her head in mirth.

"Catch!" Blue eyes widened and her hand instinctively reached up and snatched the tiny black package out of the air to stare at it blankly as her stalker chirped, "Happy Birthday, Cloud!"

"You . . . remembered?" Cloud's jaw dropped in astonishment, had she fallen asleep without noticing and was currently dreaming they'd remembered? No, she knew how dreams felt and this felt too real to be a dream.

Aria grinned and gave her a one-armed hug as she crowed, "Of course I remembered! We both did," As if her words were a signal, and they most likely were, Vincent stepped into sight with a larger cloth-wrapped package encased firmly in his bronzed gauntlet. "Now, open your presents."

Searching the small package it took her a little time to find the nigh-invisible thread that held the cloth closed. A swift jerk, and the cloth fell open to reveal a silver ring, "What is it?" It was something of a misconception that you could read an accessory like materia, though, people who were well-versed in magic could sense out the enchantments and give you a fairly accurate name. The Strife heir wasn't quite that proficient yet. Give her a few more years.

"This," the grey-clad woman seized her free hand and slid the band onto her index finger, "Is a Fairy Ring. It gives you an immunity to poison and darkness as long as you wear it. It could come in handy some day."

She examined it closely and found tiny wings and bubbles engraved across the surface and smiled, she should've known better. It was true that her formerly crystallized friend had amnesia, but she had to have the most accurate memory of anyone she'd met. "Thank you."

"Cloud," the birthday girl looked up to find the cloaked man holding out his present to her, though, she had to wonder, how had he gotten it, whatever it was, since he never left the Manor. "It's time you learned to fight with a weapon."

Parting the cloth she found a silver handgun, the leather grip softer than she knew a new gun would be, leading her to believe it was one of his older weapons, but the metal was unmarred, in perfect condition, polished clean but not enough to reflect a dangerous amount of light. An image from her father's weapon log flashed to the forefront of her mind. "It's a Quicksilver, right?"

He nodded and she stifled a grin as she caught sight of a smile behind the collar of his cloak, "Very good, Cloud."

On the subject of weapons, she knew Vincent was a master sharpshooter as well as hand-to-hand-combatant, a skill enhanced dangerously by his gauntlet, but what did Aria use? She was skilled with knives, but that wasn't a primary weapon, was it? "Aria? What type of weapon do you use?"

Mercury eyes blinked slowly in surprise and she frowned slightly, "Ah . . . I use a weapon called a Jetted Crescent Hammer. Speaking of which, I need to make a new one soon . . ." She looked away in thought and Cloud furrowed her brow. A Jetted Crescent Hammer, what on Gaia was that? What was a Jetted weapon?

Vincent's surprise seemed to stem from a different part of her statement though, did he know what her weapon was? "You make your own weapons?"

"Yes," she nodded happily, "Jetted weapons are my specialty, it's been a tradition in my Clan since before the Guardians were created." She remained oblivious to the looks her two friends exchanged at the unfamiliar terms.

"Hm."

The blonde fighter-in-training couldn't have said it better herself. Every time they thought they'd figured her out, the silver-eyed woman threw out a new tidbit of information for them to digest. The thing was, she never seemed to notice that her memories seemed to be returning, bit by tiny bit. Vincent and Cloud noticed and Cloud for one was happy for her, but how long would it take for the amnesiac woman to remember who she really was?

Should she be afraid? Was the real Aria someone completely different from the one they knew? A stranger in a familiar body . . . was there something in her past that it was better left forgotten? Something that would change her utterly?

She had to wonder though, what was this Clan of hers and who were the Guardians she spoke of?

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Nibelheim, Western Continent

21:10 (GST +9) August 19, 1987

When Cloud returned home hours later, it was with a smile on her face and her new weapon strapped in place beside her knife. It was late, she knew, dinner would be cold by now, whatever it was. She saw a light on downstairs and her smile faltered. Had her mother truly forgotten or was it all an act just like Vincent?

Piper looked up as soon as her daughter opened the door and the blonde was surprised to see another person beside her . . . what was Zangan doing here?

"Happy Birthday, Cloud," the Nibel-born woman smiled and hugged the younger female before handing her a brown package.

Cloud stared down at the rectangular object for a moment, then her eyes widened and she wrapped the woman in a tight hug with a laugh, "You did remember!"

"Your friend, Aria," she began as they sat back down, the elder beside Zangan while the younger took the floor. "Came by early this morning to see me, she said it would be worth more if we surprised you."

"Aria," her jaw dropped, "You met Aria!?"

Piper nodded with an amused smile at her daughter's surprise, "She's a very nice young woman, it's good to know you have a friend you can trust, even if she is so much older than you."

"She's fun to be with," the blonde preteen replied with a grin.

"She is rather mischievous for her age, just like your Uncle was, now, Zangan had something for you as well."

Cloud blinked up at the as of yet silent man and found him smiling back at her, reaching into a deep pocket of his large coat he stated, "Tifa and I already gave you those gloves, but I had trouble finding the second part of that present. I hope you don't mind that they aren't wrapped." She blinked curiously as he withdrew two leather objects and handed them to her. "Happy Birthday, Cloud."

She picked one up and examined it closely, like the gloves, they were thin and made of blue-black leather and testing her limited ability in item-sensing, she discovered they also had the same enchantment, a subtle and limited spell that allowed them to actually grow somewhat with her. Since she was eleven, she'd already had her first growth spurt, meaning that they wouldn't have to stretch much more.

They were bracers, or arm-guards, whatever you wanted to call them, tugging them on, they covered the full length of her forearms, plates of metal arranged within the leather strategically placed to allow a stronger block.

"Thank you, Master Zangan," she smiled at him and he laughed, shaking his head.

"Think nothing of it, you should open your other present."

Obediently, she removed the wrapping off her fourth gift of the day only to gasp in shock. It was a small watercolor, looking life-like, yet surreal at the same time. A young woman dressed in black sat on a forest floor leaning against the flat of a large sword, the tips of her long blonde hair brushing the ground as she held out her hand to the being in front of her. Something was in that hand that she couldn't distinguish, small and shining with a light all it's own.

She barely noticed that though, instead her gaze was locked on the second being in the picture, a very familiar creature covered in silver scales. The Dragon from her dream stood before the woman, wings still half-furled from a recent flight and neck out-stretched to better see the offering.

Hungering for the name of the person who had seen her mythical protector, the blue-eyed girl found a signature hidden within the shading of a tree trunk. For some reason, the name rang familiar in her mind, though she knew she'd never heard it before.

Lyra Lairell

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A/N: For some reason as I rewrote this, I saw Zack in Aria's place and Sephiroth in Vincent's, interesting, isn't it? I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did rewriting it! 4:18PM

Rewritten: 7/27/08

Reposted: 10/25/08

A/N Post Script: I loved my former after chapter chatter so much that I decided to leave it, see below for a review!

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Seph: Go write the next chapter! (bonks LOTD on the head with a sheathed katana)

LadyoftheDrow: Ow! Seph! What was that for?

Seph: I want you to write the next chapter so you can work on the story that I'm in!

LadyoftheDrow: (pouts) Oh, alright ( turns to readers) Next Chapter is
called Confrontations, and should be posted by the 20th?

Ariadne: WARNING! Cliffhanger alert!

LadyoftheDrow: (covers Aria's mouth) Quiet! You aren't supposed to give it away! Loud-mouth!

Ariadne: I am not!

LadyoftheDrow: (Scowls) Could've fooled me!

Ariadne: (pouts)

Seph: (sighs) . . . . females.

LadyoftheDrow/Ariadne: (turns to Seph with flaming eyes)

Seph: Oh --! (ducks out of sight)

A/N2: Blame the Coffee and my need for some comic relief after multiple verbal clashes with my father for that last tid-bit (he says I'm so like my aunt that it's scary, but I've got HIS temper, so we're always getting into arguments . . . .over next to nothing. . . . sigh)

A/N3: This story would have been posted on time . . . . if FF-Net hadn't decided to be ebil and shut down the login and review features right before I tries to post it . . . . . (WHACK! WHACK!) Bad FF-Net! BAD! . . . . . half hour my backside.

FF-Net Quote: Site Alert: login/review features will be down on Sunday June 17th, 2AM US PST to approximately 2:30AM US PST for essential upgrades. The upgrade session is estimated to last only 30 minutes.

We apologize for the inconvenience.

LadyoftheDrow: Am I allowed to scream now?

Seph: Sorry, Lady, you can't, your 14-yr-old sister is asleep just six feet above your head, the 5-yr-old and the 7-year-old are asleep(hopefully), your dad's asleep, and you don't want to wake Snowball up yet do you?

LadyoftheDrow: (pouts) I hate when I want to be noisy and everyone in the house is asleep . . . .

Seph: I know, I know. Go look for the "Last Samurai" then, that should keep you busy.

Ariadne: Oh! Yes! Good idea! We still need to watch the beginning!

LadyoftheDrow: (looks warily at Seph) Wait a minute . . . Aren't we supposed to be mad at you?

Seph: Eh, heh-heh, uh . . . maybe?

Ariadne: You're right, Lady, he made The Comment.

LadyoftheDrow: 3 . . . (Seph takes a step back) 2 . . . (LOTD and Aria smirk) 1 . . . (Seph sprints off) GET 'IM!! (LOTD and Aria dash after him)

Katana: (appears out of nowhere) End.