Shadows Arise

Somehow the air grew stale that day, clouds covering the Coliseum like an empty vortex of endless dark skies. She wandered the halls once more, wearing a dark blue, sleeveless dress, a collar-high and flowing past her feet, but with an opening for her wings to slip past. This dress was specially made for her by a request she had made, somehow reminding her of the life she once had, but was never allowed to wear it. The job of fighting was much too important to wear such fancy things...

But she wasn't fighting, now was she?

Nevaeh went to the stands with her black hat adorned to her head, walking to the main entrance above the stadium floor. She stood there for a matter of moments, gazing up to the sky that had now turned a dark purple in the afternoon sun. Strangest to her, not even when they blotted out the sky was it this dark for her. She had never seen such a sight, and was surprised nature did this on it's own. But her mind came back when she heard footsteps behind her, turning to find the man named Cloud and the woman named Aerith approach her.

"You came just in time," Nevaeh stated, looking back to the arena.

"Yes, well, we figured this much because of the very person we convinced to fight," Aerith replied.

She looked back, confused by what they said. "What? Are you saying you hired someone to fight?"

"Not entirely hired, because he came on his own free will," Cloud said, soon smirking. "Do you really think the sky changed on it's own?"

"I do not understand," she confessed. "Are you saying you darkened the sky, all for this one fighter to battle the man you only believe is your son?"

"Somehow we just know it is him, if he is the only one here to consist, besides yourself, of a wing. Anyways, after we told him you were here, we couldn't stop him from battling even if we wanted too," Aerith spoke, almost drearily.

"Why is my being important?" she questioned, but they did not answer, only continued on to sit in the stands. She stood there for a minute, thinking, until she looked back to the widespread area, walking across to where she always sat; farthest away from Hades but not as much as to draw attention.

As she watched, waiting for the match to commence, a breath of wind caught up, a sharp, sort of electric sounding ring echoing through this place, Hades appearing in his chain through a puff of smoke. He almost grinned as he noticed how dark it was, taking pride in the fact that he had selected this fight to take place. He noticed the two unusual people sitting in the far entrance, but paid no mind and looked down to the blank arena at the moment.

"What a day! Good thing I made it a special match, or else I wouldn't be able to enjoy this great of a day!" Hades stated, grinning and putting his hands behind his head.

She looked back to him, narrowing her eyes. "Special match? What are you getting at?"

"You'll see," he said, yawning. "It's about time you learned a bit about fighting."

With this, he snapped his fingers, the guards letting Strife go and walk into the arena. He carried the gunblade again, but did not bother to bring his cloak with him. Nevaeh could see Aerith stand up slightly, recognizing her boy, but being held back by her husband until the match was over. When the area had finally grown still, the challenger enter, her eyes going wide with question when she saw him.

He wore all black, a trench coat with a ragged end giving the affect that this man was dangerous. What shocked her was not entirely the long silver hair or the pale green eyes, but the fact when he whipped his arm to the side a large, black feathered wing released from his back, reaching to his side to grab the sword there. The shield was raised and the battle was to begin, the man grinning menacingly.

Strife prepared to fight, gritting his teeth as a bead of sweat ran down his forehead, nervous in a way. The man laughed at this, standing upright once more and staking the sword into the stone arena, crossing his arms.

"And this is what I am to fight against? What am I saying, you are Cloud's son after all."

"What? I don't understand," he said.

"You wouldn't, because you don't remember. Though of course, that's why I'm here. You're parents have been looking for you and I've made a deal. If I give a show, then you get your freedom, and I'll be in to get my own daughter back."

"Your...daughter?" he questioned, beginning to think and loosing his concentration.

"Yes," he replied. "Sorry to do this, kid, but I got my own goal. I hope you understand." He took the sword from the ground, preparing to fight once more. Strife did the same, preparing for the attack that would come.

In a second he lingered over, swiping over to a tremendous length and managing to, surprisingly, it him, sending him flying across the arena. He got back up on his feet, blocking the next swing that came at him and quickly countered, cutting the man on the arm. The man stood there for a moment, grabbing his arm and looking to his hand to find blood on the leather glove, shrugging.

"Not so bad after all," he said, frowning as he brought his hand to his forehead. "But get out of my way!"

As Strife shouted for another attack, the challenger suddenly lifted his hand in the air and sending a rage of fire shooting from the ground and upon Strife. Nevaeh covered her mouth in worry that he might have been burnt to a crisp, but Strife fell back out of it, only steaming with the flames that had been around him. The man came up to him, grinning as he put the sword back to his side.

"It seems you have been defeated, son of Cloud," he stated. "Do you admit your loss?"

"Not quite," he said, slowly reaching for his left hand, taking off the glove around it. Shocked, the man stood back, a disfigured, pitch-black morphed hand coming to Strife's side when he stood.

It was as if inside-out, the skin so mutated it looked as though it was the muscle from within with the veins pulsing through it. Bronze claws just added to the affect as he smirked, tossing the gunblade to the side and preparing to run forward. As he did, so quickly not even the man could see him, slashing through him. When he remained, the man fell to a knee, grabbing his stomach from where it had been sliced. Strife only turned back in question when he laughed, standing up and twisting back around. Strife stumbled back as the man's skin sealed up like normal, and with no medical intervention it was horrifying.

"That's something you should always remember, and that is that darkness is just another form to me." The man's image faded, eclipsed in a waving form of vapor as he said something more before his last attack hit. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be needing to finish this now. Sin Harvest!"

With it, a powerful force hit him, feeling his energy leaving him and knowing his loss. Once more, as he laid there helpless, as the man walking over, shrugging. Strife slowly nodded his head, signifying that he gave up. The man looked up, waving over to the others in the stands.

"At least your boy has some sense!" he shouted as he laughed, looking back. "Alright, your time has been served. Get up." He held out a hand, helping him up. "You are a worthy opponent, kid, so I'll keep you alive for another day."

"Yeah, thanks," he said half-heartedly, the man walking forward to approach Hades.

"I have done my fight, now hand her over and grant this kid his freedom."

Hades smirked, "No I think not." He got up, surprisingly walking into the dim sunlight and Nevaeh standing as he did. He walked over, waving down below to the stadium floor. "It's about time you learn the fundamentals of fighting, Nevaeh."

"What are you going to do?" she questioned.

"Oh nothing much...Anyway, first rule, in a match never take mercy on your enemy. Never. Secondly, if all things fail, cheat. Lastly, for the most important part of this game." He grinned widely, holding out his hand and forming a solid sword from his hand. This seemed all so familiar, knowing that something had been wrong from the start of all this, and she finally realized the true meaning when it became too late. "In every battle there is an end, and it only ends when it comes time for..." He leaned back, throwing the sword as threatening speeds through the shield and into the arena, where it cut the man across his face, but echoed in a sickening crush as it splintered in Strife's chest, falling back. "Sudden death!"

Nevaeh stood there, her heart shattering into a billion pieces when she witnessed this, and a soul wrenching cry coming from Aerith as a quiet yet angry silence filled the Coliseum that day, never to be forgotten...

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A/N Shocking? That's a duh, but don't worry, it is not the end! Please review and stay tuned!