A/N: Hatakesama is well!! Hope you get better soon and out of the hospital all right. Thanks for the e-mail clearing that up. And to all who have been waiting patiently for this chapter, here you go. I was kinda busy singing along to Cowboy Bebop music. . .namely Tank! and The Real Folk Blues in my tone deaf, off key way. . .but it scares away my annoying brother. ^^ And I have actually reached decision; no Hitomi in this ficcy.

Thanks to: BlueDreamer who has been major supportive. I can't wait to see what you do with your fic; Ice Eyes, who finds the time to review even though certain parents don't want her tying up the phone line. And Peridot Pooka who was there in the early notebook days and said to keep going even though I thought it was crap.

Chapter Five

Bright light flooded her irises as the lids were pulled back and peered into. She muttered to herself and squeezed them shut before rolling over. "Go away."

The hand came back again, opening her eyelids and allowing in the bright light. She pushed them away more forcefully before she rolled onto her stomach, face first on what she could now tell to be cold metal.

"Subject is uncooperative. Inject the mild sedative."

Tara mumbled as she felt her arm being taken. It was when the thin metal punctured her arm that she sprang to life. Her eyes flew open as she glared around before she spied the one holding the syringe and growled at him. Her hand balled up into a fist and connected with his jaw a split second later. The man toppled to the floor while the others started to advance in more closely on Tara.

"Give it your best shot." she muttered, her hand straying to her hilt.

Her eyes narrowed in rage as she tightened her grip on the knife by her side. The room stared to blur slightly as she maintained her defensive position. The figures bled into one another forcing her to blink rapidly to clear her vision. One approached her suddenly from the left and she responded swiftly, the blade managing to connect with some body part.

"Just calm down, you don't have to worry now."

Startled at the voice that came from behind her, she whipped around her hand traveling like a bolt of lightning. She gave a gasp of surprise as cold metal snapped shut around her wrist, stopping the blade. With a growl, her other hand whipped around and belted the person across the face. They didn't say anything as they caught her wrist, preventing her from fighting back. The world started to tip crazily as she shifted slightly, her feet moving around jerkily as she fought to keep her balance. She relaxed as the voice dawned on her. She paused and peered up into the face of someone before she slumped forward slightly, mere effort becoming more difficult.

"Everything will be fine."

She managed to raise her head up to see a mismatched splotch of someone's head before she blacked out, the injection taking full effect.

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A dull pulsating throb greeted her as she opened her eyes, the faint glow of an overhead light greeting her. "Christ, my head is killing me." she groped around with a fumbling touch for something to alleviate the headache. "Storm, do you have anything for my head?" she asked in a rough voice. "Storm?" she asked as she blinked and looked around with bleary vision.

A steel room greeted her as her vision cleared the four walls cold and impassive. She scrambled back, her hand going for her dagger as the events came rushing back to her.

"Is this what you're looking for this?"

Her eyes looked around until they spotted the man seated in the chair, his back towards her. "Give it back."

"I much prefer it in my hand for the moment." the man half shifted and regarded her.

Tara gazed back at him unflinchingly as she remained half crouched on the bed. Silence descended over the room the only sound coming from the hiss of candle wax as it splashed down into the hardened puddle on the base of its holder from the top. Her eyes traveled over the bold red armour that covered his body like a turtle shell gleaming softly in the candle light. 'His eyes are so cold.' She shifted to the end of the bed slightly, wishing to God she had the dagger in her hand. Something about him set her off and made her skin crawl; perhaps it was the fact that she felt that he wasn't beyond causing pain to someone.

"What are you running from?" he sneered as he rose with a mocking smile.

"Nothing." she spat more forcefully than she intended. "I have nothing to fear from a half developed wimp like you, who needs armour to protect himself."

His eyes narrowed slightly before he started forward with a deliberate intent in his steps. "Aren't we a good one to talk. Do you really think that you can protect yourself from me?"

Tara eased herself off the bed and found herself circling the man in front of her slowly, her eyes never leaving her dagger. She placed the bed between him and her, their eyes never leaving each others. She recoiled slightly as he leaned forward and touched her hair gently; she would not let herself show fear to anyone like this.

"It's just like fire. . ." he whispered softly, to himself almost, as his gloved fingers caressed the strands.

"Don't touch me." Tara hissed slapping his hand away as she drew back. "No one gave you that right, you presumptuous fool."

His eyes narrowed for a spilt second before he laughed. "Me? Presumptuous? That's a good one. First you come charging in on your dragon, and then you cause me hell just because the old man wants you here. I was nearly killed trying to satisfy that fool's desire by that savage dragon!"

Tara edged back as she watched him worked himself up, a cruel sort of smirk coming to her face. "Glad to help in any way possible, you moron. That's just one less sadist in the world if you ask me. The dragon did have everything going for it."

"Don't you dare to talk to me this way!" he yelled before he charged forward, the hand with her dagger rising upwards to strike her.

She bent low ready to feint to the left, her hands curling up into fists.

"Dilandau, that's enough."

Tara looked up to see the doorway open, a tall figure silhouetted in the light. She glanced back at the man called Dilandau to see a surprised and dismayed expression on his face. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she lunged forward and grabbed her dagger back from his hand.

"I believe that this is mine and not yours." she said as she placed it back in the hilt with a possessive thrust.

Dilandau glared at her before he focused his attention back to the figure in the doorway. "What do you want? First you take Miguel from me and now her? I brought her in, she's under my jurisdiction."

"Is that what you think?" the shadow stepped in further. "Perhaps you would like to be the one who answers to Emperor Dornkirk if something happens to her? He does consider her to be very valuable and crucial in his plans."

Tara couldn't help but snicker as Dilandau's already pale face went even whiter, his lips thinning in anger. She smiled at him as he glared back at her before he stalked out of the doorway.

"You shouldn't antagonize Dilandau in that manner."

Tara looked up at the shadow before she nodded her head slowly in agreement. "But I don't like him in the slightest. There's just something about him. . ."

A faint brief laugh echoed around the room. "Most people do agree in that respect."

Tara didn't reply, the hairs on the back of her neck raised. She didn't know what it was but there was something about this man who stood before her cloaked in the dark; something familiar.

"May I ask why you were riding a dragon. . ."

"Tara." she said in a whisper. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Never mind." she said shaking her head. 'Your imagination is starting to get the best of you. There's no way in hell that you could possibly know the person in front of you.'

"Why were you riding a dragon Tara?"

Tara regarded the man for a few minutes before she sat back down on the bed. "I have my reasons as to why I was. You don't need to know them at the moment."

"So you are the girl from the Fanalian forests."

"What?! How did you know? Have you been spying on me?" she said as she started with shocked anger.

"We have been keeping track of your movements in Fanalia. When you came to the coast, we lost track of you. We had heard rumors of a fire haired girl with wings."

"How nice to see that I garner your exclusive interest. But I do not have wings." she said in a slightly sarcastic voice.'You have to think twice if you think that I'd tell you some like that immediately.' She pegged him with a hard look. "What do you want with me?"

"We want to know where you came from and why you're here in Gaea."

Tara paused hearing a certain tone in his voice. "And why should I be inclined to tell you anything at all? After what that idiot did in here?"

"There are less pleasant methods that can be used to find out the information." he said in a soft voice.

"Is that a threat?"

"No. Do you remember when you attacked those men in the room when they injected you with the sedative?"

"Yes." she said warily. "What do they have to do with it?"

"Everything. They feel that I am incapable of conducting this investigation and unless I produce results, the task will fall to them. I am sure that you don't want to be under their 'tender' care."

An involuntary shiver passed over her as she rubbed her arms. "Was it you there in that room that talked to me?"

"Yes. I don't condone their methods of obtaining information from people. Or what they do to them."

"Why; what do they do?"

"Things you don't wish to hear about." he paused for a minute. "There are things about Zaibach that you don't want to know or be exposed to."

"Then I thank you for your concern." she said in a small voice as her mind raced. 'So now I am a prisoner and I can't leave I can't leave this forsaken castle of steel and bolts.'

"This is to be your room until the interrogation is finished. If you need anything simply push this button here."

Tara glanced at the pad the man motioned to before she looked back at him. "Why are you hiding in the shadows? Are you afraid to show your face?"

"I am not afraid Tara."

"Then step forward and tell me your name."

The man stepped forwards slightly, the lower half of his face becoming visible. "My name is Folken. Folken Lacour de Fanel if you want to know my full name." his lips curled into a slight smile.

"Tara Leigh O'Malley." she said as she crossed her arms with a smirk. "Now step into the light so I can at least see the face of my captor."

The smirk disappeared from her face as the man's face came into full view. Those same strange coloured orbs found hers, the bottomless maroon depths holding her. She swallowed hard as the blood ran from her face, leaving it a sickly pale colour in the light.

"Are you all right?" Folken asked, taking a step forward as the smile vanished.

"It's you." she breathed in a strained voice. "The one with the wings."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I think she's waking up now."

Storm opened her eyes to find the room dark and shadowed heavily. She blinked blearily as she peeked out from underneath the cloth to see the pillow. "Jeez, Tara, can't you give me five more minutes? There's not much to do today. And I don't wanna go shopping for a dress again. Besides, my head hurts a bit. I. . .had. . .the freakiest. . .dream. . ." she burrowed back beneath the covers and started to drift off again.

"Come on Storm, you have to wake up now. Millerna wants to check your leg and there's someone here to talk to you."

Storm paused as her shoulder was shaken gently with a strong sure touch. That wasn't Tara's hand, it was definitely more masculine. And that voice was the one she heard in her dream; or was it even a dream? She pulled back the covers to find herself looking at tousled black hair and concerned maroon eyes.

"What the. . .no one has that colour for eyes." she muttered as she turned over. "Man, what the hell did I have last night?"

"About a full bottle of liquor that should have floored you." came an oddly bubbly voice.

Storm sat up and peered into the darkness. The man with tousled black hair sat on the bedside beside her and a blonde woman with a gentle smile on her face. She blinked puzzled as she looked between them. Then she spied yet another figure that was walking to the window.

"Now that she's up, we can talk to her." the words were followed by the harsh intrusion of bright sunlight.

"God fucking damnit!" she cursed as she shielded her eyes. "Who's damn fucking bright idea was it to open the drapes?!"

"Allen, what do you think you're doing? She has a massive hangover!"

"Damn straight!" Storm added as she lowered her hand slightly. "Ow. . .my head. My kingdom for an aspirin."

"Here, have this."

She took the glass that was placed in her hand and took a large gulp. She promptly coughed as she gave the glass a baleful glare. "What the hell is in this stuff Van?"

"It's an anti-hangover cure." he took the glass from her. "How's your head now?"

"Less pounding. . .less light induced pain." she flicked Allen a look before she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "Well, it's nice to know that I am not dreaming. Why on Earth did I drink that whole bottle?"

"You technically weren't supposed to." Millerna said as she came over to the bed. "How's your leg feeling?"

"A bit sore and there's this dull throbbing where the fractures were. But that's normal. . .I hope."

"It is." Millerna said with a smile. "Now this fool here wants to talk to you. Do you feel up to it?"

Storm paused as she opened her eyes and looked up at Allen. "Yeah sure, whatever."

She didn't say anything as Van got up and moved from the side of the bed, allowing Allen to fill the space. She braced herself as the bed sank with his weight, the long blonde hair brushing against her hand. 'Sheesh.'

"Here's your hair." she said in a quiet voice as she brushed it away from her.

Allen simply smiled and moved it aside. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." she said, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in her stomach. Almost guiltily she glanced up at Millerna and Van, as if she was in trouble.

"Van tells me that you underwent the resetting very well."

She gave a seemingly nonchalant shrug before she clasped her hands and focused on them.

"I saw the fight you and your friend put up; very admirable. As well as how you handled that blade of yours even if it was for a brief moment."

Still Storm didn't move, unwilling to look Allen in the eye. "How about you cut the crap and ask me what you really want to know? I'm not stupid; you, and Van, want to know why I was riding that dragon, don't you?"

A hesitant and collective sigh went up before Allen spoke again. "Why were you?"

Storm didn't say anything for a few minutes. "I just was. Leave it at that." her hand rubbed against her hip, longing for the comforting touch of her sword hilt.

"Do you have an itch there?" Millerna asked stepping forward.

"Huh?" she looked up startled. "No, I don't. I just miss my sword, that's all."

"Your sword?" Allen and Van asked at the same time.

"Yes. That's all I have left of home. That and these beat up clothes that I am wearing."

"And where's your home?" Allen asked gently. "We can take you back there when your leg heals."

"My home?" she repeated slowly, struggling to remember. "I. . .I don't know." she said with a frown; it was as if there was a sudden curtain in her memories that wouldn't allow her past a certain point.

"That's all right; the impact must have caused a temporary amnesia. You'll have your memories back in no time."

"Yeah, that's it." Storm replied in a distracted voice. She didn't know why, but she didn't want to tell them that she already didn't have any memory before the cave in Fanalia. "I'm sure it will come back in no time.

"But in the meantime, you're staying here. I want to make sure that your leg heals clean and. . ."

Storm tuned out the rest of Millerna's words as she reached for her crutches and walked to the window. Already her eyes were drawn to the large shapes that sat on the edge of the faraway cliff, like large, precariously perched, boulders. She couldn't help but smile as the supposed rocks suddenly sprouted wings and flapped them a few times before they disappeared into the hardened shapes.

"They're still there. They're waiting." she said in a quiet, barely heard, voice.

"What did you say?" Van asked as he came to her side.

"They're waiting. Can't you see them there?" she said as she placed her hand against the warm glass.

"Yeah. They haven't moved at all since two days ago." he replied as he looked out also. "Everyone's afraid that they're going to attack."

'I've been asleep for two whole days. . . ' Storm shook her head as she turned away and walked back to the bed. "They won't. They haven't been provoked."

"I beg your pardon?" Millerna asked as she stopped somewhere in her litany.

"Nothing." Storm said as she settled herself back down on the bed. "Do you think I could get something to eat perhaps? Just some soup; if I eat anything else, I may hurl." she paused seeing the lost expressions on everyone's face. "I might throw up."

"Oh, well we can't have that. I'll bring you back a light meal. Someone, I could use your help with this."

Van cast her a look before she nodded her head. He gave her a momentary smile before he followed after Millerna, leaving her and Allen in the room alone. She didn't say anything as he walked over to the window and gazed out.

"Are you a spy?"

Her head snapped up at the abrupt words. "What kind of question is that? I am not a spy. If I was a spy, I would have to say that I did a pretty pathetic job."

Allen looked back at her and smiled suddenly. Storm found her stomach doing the same thing again. 'At least my face isn't going red. Thank God for small mercies.' She started to play with the edge of the blanket before she looked back up at him.

"What exactly are you still doing here?"

"The fact of the matter is we don't know where you stand. Someone has to make sure that you don't escape."

"How very thoughtful." she murmured as she stilled her hands. Reaching over she took her dagger and hilt, toying with it in her hands. "But I don't think that I'll be going anywhere anytime soon." she gave him a knowing look.

Allen didn't say anything as he simply nodded his head and walked out.

"If you need anything," he said as he paused at the door. "I'll be right here until Van and Millerna come back."

She simply nodded before motioning for him to leave with a wave of her hand. With a heavy sigh, she got up and made her way back to the window. Carefully, she opened the windows, glad to feel the brisk sea breeze on her face. The scene before her was pleasant enough; the market was bustling with people going about their business, small children scampering around underfoot. Wagons trundled over bridges coming into and out of the city, loaded down with goods. Her gaze shifted to the marina, the ships by the docks, sails waiting to be filled by the wind to head out to the sea. 'The sea. . .' She felt her stomach take a turn as she remembered her fall to the ground the last thing she saw was Tara being pitched from Cork's back and falling like a ton of brick to splash into the water. That was when she hit and blacked out momentarily. 'Tara. . .' She turned away from the window and shut it; suddenly she didn't feel very hungry.

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