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Description
The Phoenix Eye
Chapter 3
The Road Ahead

-- Corel, Later that Evening:

The door opened roughly.  Large boots thudded heavily against the wooden plank floor.  The room bore no indication of wealth or creativity.  Everything that was present had a functional reason for its existence.  The tall broad shouldered man walked over to a simple cabinet by the door, pulling it open with a firm hand.  Inside were an assortment of mechanical constructs, each with a different form and purpose.  Some were weapons, some were tools.  Barret Wallace quickly unattached his cybernetic “work arm” from where it fastened to his elbow and set it in its place within the cabinet.  He then drew out a much simpler, more human looking appendage, better suited for tasks around the house, and flexed the robotic fingers as power flooded through them.  The middle aged man then moved towards the kitchen, pausing in route to hit the “on” switch of a small computer in the corner of the room.  A few moments later, he returned, a mug of coffee in his hand, the computer already buzzing to life in the dimly lit room.

Barret sat down on a small chair which creaked in complaint at his weight.  He pulled a notebook from the drawer of his desk, thumbing through the well used pages for the instructions on how to access his e-mail.  His daughter had made these notes for him, insisting that a computer would be the best way to keep in touch while she attended private school down in Kalm.  Barret had been overjoyed to have been able to afford to send his adopted daughter to such a nice school, and he had felt even better when Marlene had found a free room so close to his old friends Cloud and Tifa.  Tired from his long day of work, the former gunman scanned through his messages, referencing the notebook frequently.  It always bugged him a little that he did not have more of a mind for computers.  He was not an unintelligent man, but he pacified his ego by claiming that computers simply belonged to a much younger generation.

Just the same as every other day, there was a message from his daughter.  He read the e-mail with interest.  “Huh…” He said to himself.  “Marlene’s babysitting again this weekend while Cloud and Tifa are off to Wutai.  I wonder what those two are up to.”  A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.  “It’s open.” Barret called, turning in his seat.   The door opened and a smaller man stepped through.  In truth this man was probably above average in height and stature, but Barret had a way of making everyone look small.

“Begging your pardon Mr. Wallace, but the city council told me to give you this as soon as you got home.”  Barret glanced down at the papers in the man’s hand, guessing at once what it was.

“We’ll you can tell the council that I am not interested in running for mayor of Corel, and I don’t care how many times they ask me.”  Barret was glaring now, almost feeling sorry for this lackey the council had somehow tricked into relaying messages.  “I am a worker or a soldier, I do not sit behind desks pushing papers and looking pretty.”

“Mr. Wallace sir, I am not here to issue another “request” on behalf of the City Council.”  The man breathed.  “I am here to inform you that the council has unanimously nominated you for the Mayoral elections.  In other words, your name will be on the ballot whether you want it there or not.”  Barret scowled at the man, who decided he should continue before the fuming giant settled on a course action.  “The people of Corel need you, and we all have faith in you Barret.” the man said, his voice softer now.  “If you don’t believe me, read the names on this petition.”  A stack of papers settled on a small table next to the phone.

“Fine” Barret said finally, still angry, but not wanted to yell at a man who had just paid him a serious complement.  “Your message has been delivered, an’ I’ll think about it.  Now get yourself outta-here before I tell you where to shove them papers.  I got’s a message to read from my daughter.”  With that Barret turned back to his computer, indicating that his instructions for the man to leave were in full force.  The messenger left, his duty fulfilled, as a soft smile began to spread across his face.  Barret Wallace would soon be mayor of Corel.

--------------------

-- City of Wutai, (formerly The Imperial City,) Republic of Wutai, the Next Day:

Yuffie leaned back against the wall behind her, searching for a way to dismiss the tension that clutched at her heart.  It bugged her that she still felt so unnerved by the recent events.  She was a warrior, descended from a long line of Samurai and Ninja.  She herself had faced death in battle, and yet somehow, someone dying, being murdered in her own home upset her.  Yuffie stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to calm her nerves so she could return to the next room with a strong face.

The sound of a purring motor wafted to Yuffie’s ears, and then cut short.  Yuffie would recognize that sound anywhere; Cloud’s custom motorcycle, Fenrir.  Her friends had arrived.  Pulling added strength from this new development Yuffie calmed her emotions and stepped towards the door that would lead her to the room beyond.

Yuffie carefully slid open the wood and paper door, canvassed with delicate looking depictions of mountainous landscapes, and strode across the central meeting area of her palace home which was already occupied.  Reeve was there, speaking seriously with several of the Wutaian elders, and Yuffie seated herself near him.  With her on the floor and around a small tea table were seven others.  They were chatting idly amongst themselves while glancing sideways at her when they thought she wasn’t looking. The Elders of Wutai, could she ever get rid of them?  Several of their faces studied Yuffie intently, some honestly concerned over how their young leader was coping, others eager for a sign of weakness.  Their contemplation was interrupted by a young samurai entering the room, his manor asking for attention, though Yuffie already knew the message he bore.

“Begging your pardon Lord Yuffie.” the man began.  Yuffie flinched inwardly at the title she despised.  “A Mr. and Mrs. Strife have arrived, per your request.”

“Show them in please.” Yuffie directed.  And the man walked away a little flustered.  She had always made a point to be polite to her servants, treating them as equals.  Some appreciated the effort, while others were simply unnerved.  Ether way, Yuffie enjoyed it.  Cloud’s hard soled boots sounded rhythmically against the floor, his dark clothes and bright armor casting a sharp contrast to the earth tones and painted landscapes of the room he entered.  Exactly beside him, Tifa’s soft fighting shoes matched his pace in counterpoint, her outfit not as heavy, but just as lacking in color as her husbands.  “Hey Cloud, Hey Tifa.” Yuffie called out warmly as they approached.  “Wow Tifa!  Two kids and you still have a great figure.”

“Thanks Yuffie.” the martial artist said blushing slightly.  “You’ve grown up quite nicely yourself.”

“So Yuffie, what do we know about what happened here,” Cloud said as he took his seat on the floor by the tea table.  He had never been very fond of small talk and many of the Elders present cast each other offended glances.  They didn’t like how these outsiders talked to their lord so casually, but they knew better than to voice their opinions out loud.  Yuffie had been known to rant about how much she disliked the obligatory title “lord” she had inherited from her late father.

“I’ll let Reeve fill you in.” Yuffie stated, indicating towards her friend seated next to her.  Until the arrival of Cloud and Tifa, Reeve had been discussing political relationships with one of the more liberal Wutaian elders.  Reeve was dressed in an expertly tailored blue uniform and always kept his short beard neatly trimmed.  It was an obvious effort to add an air of maturity to his otherwise youthful face.  Though he sometimes enjoyed the fact that his countenance did not reflect his true age, as leader of the World Regenesis Organization, he needed all the appearance of authority he could get.

“Right” Reeve said calmly, acknowledging his queue to explain.  “As far as we can tell, two days ago a scientist by the name of Professor Stian and another man broke in to Yuffie’s home and commenced a search through her more valuable belongings.  Oddly enough, nothing seems to have been taken.  The professor was killed using one of the swords in storage, and the professor’s assistant, a man by the name of Samuru was seen the same night, leaving town with the professor’s belongings.  This man, Samuru, is currently our only suspect but nobody knows were he is.”  Reeve paused his explanation, and passed a piece of paper towards Cloud and Tifa.  “This is a sketch of Samuru; apparently he was a bit camera shy, as we found no photos of him.”

“Wasn’t there something about a skin sample?” Cloud inquired.

“Yes,” Reeve confirmed.  “We found skin under the professor’s finger nails; he probably scratched his assailant during his murder.  And the skin sample showed a ninety-eight percent match with that of the remnants we fought seven years ago.”

“Ninety-eight percent…” Cloud said while shaking his head.  “That’s pretty steep.  How did you make the match?  Is there a chance of an error?”

“Remnants, or Sephiroth clones, whatever you want to call them, have drastically altered DNA patterns due to Jenova’s influence.” Reeve explained.  “We had Shelke crunch all the numbers, and while she admits that the chance for error is always present, she said the evidence is simply too strong for this to be anything other than a remnant.”

“Shelke?” Tifa asked in surprise.  “Is she here?”

“No.” Reeve replied.  “She is with Vincent on a mission in the Junon area.  But her new uplink allows her to access the world wide network from anywhere.”  Reeve sighed and chuckled to himself.  “I tell you, we will never need a super computer at the WRO as long as I keep Shelke on speed dial.”

To the surprise of everyone present the young samurai messenger who had announced Cloud and Tifa swiftly entered the room once again.  “Begging your pardon Lord Yuffie, but there is another visitor who requests an immediate audience.”

“That’s strange.” Yuffie said mostly to herself.   “Everyone I called for is already here.”  She turned her attention back to the messenger.  “Who is it?”

“His name is Nanaki; I believe you already know him Lord Yuffie?”

“Oh yes of course.  Send him in right away.  And one more thing…” Yuffie said as the samurai started to withdraw.  “Please don’t call me “lord” unless you absolutely have to.”

“Of course Lor… err,” the messenger cut off, realizing his mistake.  “Um… I shall send in your guest.” he bowed respectfully, flustered by his sudden stuttering, and withdrew from the room.  A moment later the lion-like creature known as Nanaki padded softly into the room.  Muscles knotted and shifted behind crimson fur.  Black serrated claws clicked softly against the polished wooden floor.  Scars, trophies of countless battles, displayed themselves across the back and face of the magnificent creature.  A long mane of darker rust-brown fur crested from the creature’s head to his shoulder blades.  Behind the massive hunter, a light emanated from a patch of golden fur peaked on the end of his tail, casting strange shadows in the small room, the supernatural energies that were the warrior’s heritage causing the fur to glow like fire.

“I hope I am not intruding too much.” Nanaki’s soft melodic voice called out.  “When I heard that Professor Stian had died, I felt compelled to assist.”  The Wutaians present found it hard to believe that such a delicate voice, almost feminine, could belong to the mighty warrior before them.

“Did you know the professor?” Reeve asked his old friend as the creature took a seat beside Cloud.

“Yes, well, I knew him better than some.” Nanaki began.  “He had spent a few years studying in Cosmo Canyon, and that’s where I met him.  I didn’t talk to him much as he mostly kept to his work.  He was a self appointed historian and archeologist, from a wealthy family, using his inheritance to fund his own research.  Now that he’s dead, I really wish I had spent more time getting to know him.  Tell me, exactly how did he die?  I don’t trust the rumors.”

Reeve responded first.  “He was stabbed in that room over there, evidence indicated that he had broken past security during the night.”

“Do we know who did it?” the old warrior pressed.

“Our only suspect is the Professor’s assistant Samuru; did you know him as well?”

“Yes, Samuru was with the professor since before I knew them.  There always was something… odd, about that boy.  But I never would have thought he was capable of murder.” Nanaki said softly, his face to the floor.

“Nanaki…” Cloud interrupted.  “We found some tissue samples suggesting that whoever killed Professor Stian may have been a remnant, based on what you know of Samuru, could he have been a remnant?”

Nanaki shook his head, his great mane rolling across his neck like long grass, dark in the moonlight, being tossed back and forth by the wind.  “I don’t think Samuru was a remnant.  His hair was black and I would have noticed the slitted mako-green eyes.”

It was Tifa who spoke up next.  “If Samuru was not a remnant than perhaps it was someone else who killed the professor.  Perhaps there was a third person in the room when he died, or maybe Samuru wasn’t involved at all.”  The room was quiet for a moment as the assembled minds attempted to sort out reason amongst the conflicting evidence before them.

“Reeve…” Nanaki began slowly.  “You said Professor Stian was stabbed… What was he stabbed with?”

“This.” Yuffie answered, pulling an ornate katana from beside her.  “The legendary Sword of House Kisaragi.  My uncle Goshen was the last warrior to wield this sword in battle, before he died in the war against Shinra.  I had been keeping it locked up; in the same place my father had kept it.  The lock was picked when we found the professor dead, but the sword had been cleaned and re-sheathed.  We almost missed the trace of blood that indicated this to be the weapon that did it.”  Yuffie sighed to herself.  “What kind of sicko breaks into someone’s house just to use an ancient sword to kill a guy?”

“Hmm.” Nanaki mused to himself.  “A sword like that does seem like something that would have caught the professor’s attention.  He was always interested in old relics.”

Cloud spoke up, thinking out loud.  “Do you think the professor could have been trying to steal the sword, and maybe the other person was trying to stop him and it escalated into a fatal blow?”

“An interesting theory.” Reeve contemplated.  “Though there weren’t very many signs of a struggle, the professor seems to have been unaware of the attack until after the blow was dealt.”

“That doesn’t sound right to me.” Nanaki stated firmly.  “The professor was always a kind man, considerate and trusting.  He would give you the shirt off his back as the human saying goes.  Though he would occasionally try to bend the rules for the sake of knowledge, I doubt he would have ever stolen.  At the most I would assume maybe he wanted to see something that he wouldn’t have been able to access other wise.  Not take, but look at.  Unless of course…” Nanaki suggested, a new idea having just come to mind.  “I suppose he could have been lured here by his attacker with some promise of forbidden knowledge.”

“I don’t see the first one being a possibility.” Yuffie explained.  “There is nothing in my house that I wouldn’t have let him look at.”

“And the second idea…” Tifa interjected.  “would imply that someone brought the professor here with the intention of killing him, and like Yuffie said, why break into the house of the Lord of Wutai, just to stab someone with a famous sword.”

Finally one of the Wutaian elders spoke up tired of being left out of the conversation.  “It is apparent that we are missing a piece to this puzzle, the one that connects all the others together.  I do not think that we will progress further in this problem until more information is revealed.”

“He speaks wisdom.” Nanaki agreed.  “There is little point in stressing ourselves now; the mystery will reveal itself in time.”

“Yes indeed.” Reeve chimed in.  “Cloud, I do want you to be extra careful though.  I called you down here because the last time remnants appeared they targeted you very quickly.”

“Right.” Cloud nodded.  “I’ll keep my eyes pealed.”

“And another thing Cloud,” Reeve continued.  “Yuffie seems to be a bit disturbed by all this, I was wondering if it might not be helpful for her to spend some time with old friends.”

“Oh that’s alright.” Yuffie said defensively.  “I’m fine really.”

“Yuffie,” Tifa interjected, realizing that her friend was putting on a good face.  “A murder just happened in your home, even if you were away at the time, this is still your “safe zone.”  It’s okay to feel a little upset about this.”

“We understand your concern for your friend,” one of the Wutaian elders said, failing to conceal a suspicious smirk.  “But as the leader of Wutai, Lord Yuffie had certain “duties” which she must attend to…”

Yuffie stood up, glaring at the one who had spoken.  “Oh no you don’t.  You may be able to force me to go out with those snotty trash cans you keep digging up, but you can’t stop me from visiting my friends.”  Tifa noticed the elder pull his hand to his mouth to hide his smile, apparently this was exactly the reaction he had been looking for.

“I don’t understand.” Cloud said, clueless as usual.  “What’s the issue?”

Yuffie sighed.  “One of my duties as Lord of Wutai it to get married and produce an heir.” Yuffie began matter-of-factly.  “Now according to my father’s law, which he put in place when he formed the Council of Elders, they cannot chose for me who I am going to marry.   But what they can do – according to a loophole they found – is force me to ‘entertain suitors’” Yuffie said in disgust, emphasizing the phrase by drawing quotation marks in the air with her fingers.  “…which basically equates to those old fogey elders forcing me to date whatever snobby brats they can get their hands on.”

“Oh.” Cloud said simply.

“So yeah,” Yuffie continued.  “They can’t stop me from visiting my friends.  Well that is, of course, if you guys don’t mind.” she said towards Cloud and Tifa.  Some of the elders where smiling at their lord’s sudden change in attitude, including the one who still had a hand over his mouth to contain his mirth.  While others seemed displeased for reasons undisclosed.

“Of Course Yuffie, you’re welcome anytime” Tifa said smiling.  The gathering didn’t last much longer, Reeve promising to keep his forensic scientists looking for clues yet undiscovered, and Yuffie making arrangements to follow Cloud and Tifa’s motorcycle with one of her own chocobos.  As the meeting dispersed, Tifa hung back a little to corner a certain member of the Wutaian elders she wanted to talk to.  “You got Yuffie mad on purpose so she would come with us didn’t you?”  Tifa accused as soon as she got the elder alone.

“Yes.” the elder admitted.  “She is too proud to admit that the murder disturbed her, and the other elders really are too hard on her sometimes.”  The old man smiled pleasantly at Tifa.  “Despite the great responsibility she bears – and bears well mind you – She is still young in many ways and needs room to breathe from time to time.”

“Well thank you.” Tifa responded.  “If she ever needs more breathing room again just call, and Cloud and I will come kidnap her for you.”

The elder laughed.  “I’ll hold you to that promise.  Good travels to you and your husband Mrs. Strife.”

Description
The Phoenix Eye
Chapter 3
The Road Ahead

-- Corel, Later that Evening:

The door opened roughly.  Large boots thudded heavily against the wooden plank floor.  The room bore no indication of wealth or creativity.  Everything that was present had a functional reason for its existence.  The tall broad shouldered man walked over to a simple cabinet by the door, pulling it open with a firm hand.  Inside were an assortment of mechanical constructs, each with a different form and purpose.  Some were weapons, some were tools.  Barret Wallace quickly unattached his cybernetic “work arm” from where it fastened to his elbow and set it in its place within the cabinet.  He then drew out a much simpler, more human looking appendage, better suited for tasks around the house, and flexed the robotic fingers as power flooded through them.  The middle aged man then moved towards the kitchen, pausing in route to hit the “on” switch of a small computer in the corner of the room.  A few moments later, he returned, a mug of coffee in his hand, the computer already buzzing to life in the dimly lit room.

Barret sat down on a small chair which creaked in complaint at his weight.  He pulled a notebook from the drawer of his desk, thumbing through the well used pages for the instructions on how to access his e-mail.  His daughter had made these notes for him, insisting that a computer would be the best way to keep in touch while she attended private school down in Kalm.  Barret had been overjoyed to have been able to afford to send his adopted daughter to such a nice school, and he had felt even better when Marlene had found a free room so close to his old friends Cloud and Tifa.  Tired from his long day of work, the former gunman scanned through his messages, referencing the notebook frequently.  It always bugged him a little that he did not have more of a mind for computers.  He was not an unintelligent man, but he pacified his ego by claiming that computers simply belonged to a much younger generation.

Just the same as every other day, there was a message from his daughter.  He read the e-mail with interest.  “Huh…” He said to himself.  “Marlene’s babysitting again this weekend while Cloud and Tifa are off to Wutai.  I wonder what those two are up to.”  A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.  “It’s open.” Barret called, turning in his seat.   The door opened and a smaller man stepped through.  In truth this man was probably above average in height and stature, but Barret had a way of making everyone look small.

“Begging your pardon Mr. Wallace, but the city council told me to give you this as soon as you got home.”  Barret glanced down at the papers in the man’s hand, guessing at once what it was.

“We’ll you can tell the council that I am not interested in running for mayor of Corel, and I don’t care how many times they ask me.”  Barret was glaring now, almost feeling sorry for this lackey the council had somehow tricked into relaying messages.  “I am a worker or a soldier, I do not sit behind desks pushing papers and looking pretty.”

“Mr. Wallace sir, I am not here to issue another “request” on behalf of the City Council.”  The man breathed.  “I am here to inform you that the council has unanimously nominated you for the Mayoral elections.  In other words, your name will be on the ballot whether you want it there or not.”  Barret scowled at the man, who decided he should continue before the fuming giant settled on a course action.  “The people of Corel need you, and we all have faith in you Barret.” the man said, his voice softer now.  “If you don’t believe me, read the names on this petition.”  A stack of papers settled on a small table next to the phone.

“Fine” Barret said finally, still angry, but not wanted to yell at a man who had just paid him a serious complement.  “Your message has been delivered, an’ I’ll think about it.  Now get yourself outta-here before I tell you where to shove them papers.  I got’s a message to read from my daughter.”  With that Barret turned back to his computer, indicating that his instructions for the man to leave were in full force.  The messenger left, his duty fulfilled, as a soft smile began to spread across his face.  Barret Wallace would soon be mayor of Corel.

--------------------

-- City of Wutai, (formerly The Imperial City,) Republic of Wutai, the Next Day:

Yuffie leaned back against the wall behind her, searching for a way to dismiss the tension that clutched at her heart.  It bugged her that she still felt so unnerved by the recent events.  She was a warrior, descended from a long line of Samurai and Ninja.  She herself had faced death in battle, and yet somehow, someone dying, being murdered in her own home upset her.  Yuffie stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to calm her nerves so she could return to the next room with a strong face.

The sound of a purring motor wafted to Yuffie’s ears, and then cut short.  Yuffie would recognize that sound anywhere; Cloud’s custom motorcycle, Fenrir.  Her friends had arrived.  Pulling added strength from this new development Yuffie calmed her emotions and stepped towards the door that would lead her to the room beyond.

Yuffie carefully slid open the wood and paper door, canvassed with delicate looking depictions of mountainous landscapes, and strode across the central meeting area of her palace home which was already occupied.  Reeve was there, speaking seriously with several of the Wutaian elders, and Yuffie seated herself near him.  With her on the floor and around a small tea table were seven others.  They were chatting idly amongst themselves while glancing sideways at her when they thought she wasn’t looking. The Elders of Wutai, could she ever get rid of them?  Several of their faces studied Yuffie intently, some honestly concerned over how their young leader was coping, others eager for a sign of weakness.  Their contemplation was interrupted by a young samurai entering the room, his manor asking for attention, though Yuffie already knew the message he bore.

“Begging your pardon Lord Yuffie.” the man began.  Yuffie flinched inwardly at the title she despised.  “A Mr. and Mrs. Strife have arrived, per your request.”

“Show them in please.” Yuffie directed.  And the man walked away a little flustered.  She had always made a point to be polite to her servants, treating them as equals.  Some appreciated the effort, while others were simply unnerved.  Ether way, Yuffie enjoyed it.  Cloud’s hard soled boots sounded rhythmically against the floor, his dark clothes and bright armor casting a sharp contrast to the earth tones and painted landscapes of the room he entered.  Exactly beside him, Tifa’s soft fighting shoes matched his pace in counterpoint, her outfit not as heavy, but just as lacking in color as her husbands.  “Hey Cloud, Hey Tifa.” Yuffie called out warmly as they approached.  “Wow Tifa!  Two kids and you still have a great figure.”

“Thanks Yuffie.” the martial artist said blushing slightly.  “You’ve grown up quite nicely yourself.”

“So Yuffie, what do we know about what happened here,” Cloud said as he took his seat on the floor by the tea table.  He had never been very fond of small talk and many of the Elders present cast each other offended glances.  They didn’t like how these outsiders talked to their lord so casually, but they knew better than to voice their opinions out loud.  Yuffie had been known to rant about how much she disliked the obligatory title “lord” she had inherited from her late father.

“I’ll let Reeve fill you in.” Yuffie stated, indicating towards her friend seated next to her.  Until the arrival of Cloud and Tifa, Reeve had been discussing political relationships with one of the more liberal Wutaian elders.  Reeve was dressed in an expertly tailored blue uniform and always kept his short beard neatly trimmed.  It was an obvious effort to add an air of maturity to his otherwise youthful face.  Though he sometimes enjoyed the fact that his countenance did not reflect his true age, as leader of the World Regenesis Organization, he needed all the appearance of authority he could get.

“Right” Reeve said calmly, acknowledging his queue to explain.  “As far as we can tell, two days ago a scientist by the name of Professor Stian and another man broke in to Yuffie’s home and commenced a search through her more valuable belongings.  Oddly enough, nothing seems to have been taken.  The professor was killed using one of the swords in storage, and the professor’s assistant, a man by the name of Samuru was seen the same night, leaving town with the professor’s belongings.  This man, Samuru, is currently our only suspect but nobody knows were he is.”  Reeve paused his explanation, and passed a piece of paper towards Cloud and Tifa.  “This is a sketch of Samuru; apparently he was a bit camera shy, as we found no photos of him.”

“Wasn’t there something about a skin sample?” Cloud inquired.

“Yes,” Reeve confirmed.  “We found skin under the professor’s finger nails; he probably scratched his assailant during his murder.  And the skin sample showed a ninety-eight percent match with that of the remnants we fought seven years ago.”

“Ninety-eight percent…” Cloud said while shaking his head.  “That’s pretty steep.  How did you make the match?  Is there a chance of an error?”

“Remnants, or Sephiroth clones, whatever you want to call them, have drastically altered DNA patterns due to Jenova’s influence.” Reeve explained.  “We had Shelke crunch all the numbers, and while she admits that the chance for error is always present, she said the evidence is simply too strong for this to be anything other than a remnant.”

“Shelke?” Tifa asked in surprise.  “Is she here?”

“No.” Reeve replied.  “She is with Vincent on a mission in the Junon area.  But her new uplink allows her to access the world wide network from anywhere.”  Reeve sighed and chuckled to himself.  “I tell you, we will never need a super computer at the WRO as long as I keep Shelke on speed dial.”

To the surprise of everyone present the young samurai messenger who had announced Cloud and Tifa swiftly entered the room once again.  “Begging your pardon Lord Yuffie, but there is another visitor who requests an immediate audience.”

“That’s strange.” Yuffie said mostly to herself.   “Everyone I called for is already here.”  She turned her attention back to the messenger.  “Who is it?”

“His name is Nanaki; I believe you already know him Lord Yuffie?”

“Oh yes of course.  Send him in right away.  And one more thing…” Yuffie said as the samurai started to withdraw.  “Please don’t call me “lord” unless you absolutely have to.”

“Of course Lor… err,” the messenger cut off, realizing his mistake.  “Um… I shall send in your guest.” he bowed respectfully, flustered by his sudden stuttering, and withdrew from the room.  A moment later the lion-like creature known as Nanaki padded softly into the room.  Muscles knotted and shifted behind crimson fur.  Black serrated claws clicked softly against the polished wooden floor.  Scars, trophies of countless battles, displayed themselves across the back and face of the magnificent creature.  A long mane of darker rust-brown fur crested from the creature’s head to his shoulder blades.  Behind the massive hunter, a light emanated from a patch of golden fur peaked on the end of his tail, casting strange shadows in the small room, the supernatural energies that were the warrior’s heritage causing the fur to glow like fire.

“I hope I am not intruding too much.” Nanaki’s soft melodic voice called out.  “When I heard that Professor Stian had died, I felt compelled to assist.”  The Wutaians present found it hard to believe that such a delicate voice, almost feminine, could belong to the mighty warrior before them.

“Did you know the professor?” Reeve asked his old friend as the creature took a seat beside Cloud.

“Yes, well, I knew him better than some.” Nanaki began.  “He had spent a few years studying in Cosmo Canyon, and that’s where I met him.  I didn’t talk to him much as he mostly kept to his work.  He was a self appointed historian and archeologist, from a wealthy family, using his inheritance to fund his own research.  Now that he’s dead, I really wish I had spent more time getting to know him.  Tell me, exactly how did he die?  I don’t trust the rumors.”

Reeve responded first.  “He was stabbed in that room over there, evidence indicated that he had broken past security during the night.”

“Do we know who did it?” the old warrior pressed.

“Our only suspect is the Professor’s assistant Samuru; did you know him as well?”

“Yes, Samuru was with the professor since before I knew them.  There always was something… odd, about that boy.  But I never would have thought he was capable of murder.” Nanaki said softly, his face to the floor.

“Nanaki…” Cloud interrupted.  “We found some tissue samples suggesting that whoever killed Professor Stian may have been a remnant, based on what you know of Samuru, could he have been a remnant?”

Nanaki shook his head, his great mane rolling across his neck like long grass, dark in the moonlight, being tossed back and forth by the wind.  “I don’t think Samuru was a remnant.  His hair was black and I would have noticed the slitted mako-green eyes.”

It was Tifa who spoke up next.  “If Samuru was not a remnant than perhaps it was someone else who killed the professor.  Perhaps there was a third person in the room when he died, or maybe Samuru wasn’t involved at all.”  The room was quiet for a moment as the assembled minds attempted to sort out reason amongst the conflicting evidence before them.

“Reeve…” Nanaki began slowly.  “You said Professor Stian was stabbed… What was he stabbed with?”

“This.” Yuffie answered, pulling an ornate katana from beside her.  “The legendary Sword of House Kisaragi.  My uncle Goshen was the last warrior to wield this sword in battle, before he died in the war against Shinra.  I had been keeping it locked up; in the same place my father had kept it.  The lock was picked when we found the professor dead, but the sword had been cleaned and re-sheathed.  We almost missed the trace of blood that indicated this to be the weapon that did it.”  Yuffie sighed to herself.  “What kind of sicko breaks into someone’s house just to use an ancient sword to kill a guy?”

“Hmm.” Nanaki mused to himself.  “A sword like that does seem like something that would have caught the professor’s attention.  He was always interested in old relics.”

Cloud spoke up, thinking out loud.  “Do you think the professor could have been trying to steal the sword, and maybe the other person was trying to stop him and it escalated into a fatal blow?”

“An interesting theory.” Reeve contemplated.  “Though there weren’t very many signs of a struggle, the professor seems to have been unaware of the attack until after the blow was dealt.”

“That doesn’t sound right to me.” Nanaki stated firmly.  “The professor was always a kind man, considerate and trusting.  He would give you the shirt off his back as the human saying goes.  Though he would occasionally try to bend the rules for the sake of knowledge, I doubt he would have ever stolen.  At the most I would assume maybe he wanted to see something that he wouldn’t have been able to access other wise.  Not take, but look at.  Unless of course…” Nanaki suggested, a new idea having just come to mind.  “I suppose he could have been lured here by his attacker with some promise of forbidden knowledge.”

“I don’t see the first one being a possibility.” Yuffie explained.  “There is nothing in my house that I wouldn’t have let him look at.”

“And the second idea…” Tifa interjected.  “would imply that someone brought the professor here with the intention of killing him, and like Yuffie said, why break into the house of the Lord of Wutai, just to stab someone with a famous sword.”

Finally one of the Wutaian elders spoke up tired of being left out of the conversation.  “It is apparent that we are missing a piece to this puzzle, the one that connects all the others together.  I do not think that we will progress further in this problem until more information is revealed.”

“He speaks wisdom.” Nanaki agreed.  “There is little point in stressing ourselves now; the mystery will reveal itself in time.”

“Yes indeed.” Reeve chimed in.  “Cloud, I do want you to be extra careful though.  I called you down here because the last time remnants appeared they targeted you very quickly.”

“Right.” Cloud nodded.  “I’ll keep my eyes pealed.”

“And another thing Cloud,” Reeve continued.  “Yuffie seems to be a bit disturbed by all this, I was wondering if it might not be helpful for her to spend some time with old friends.”

“Oh that’s alright.” Yuffie said defensively.  “I’m fine really.”

“Yuffie,” Tifa interjected, realizing that her friend was putting on a good face.  “A murder just happened in your home, even if you were away at the time, this is still your “safe zone.”  It’s okay to feel a little upset about this.”

“We understand your concern for your friend,” one of the Wutaian elders said, failing to conceal a suspicious smirk.  “But as the leader of Wutai, Lord Yuffie had certain “duties” which she must attend to…”

Yuffie stood up, glaring at the one who had spoken.  “Oh no you don’t.  You may be able to force me to go out with those snotty trash cans you keep digging up, but you can’t stop me from visiting my friends.”  Tifa noticed the elder pull his hand to his mouth to hide his smile, apparently this was exactly the reaction he had been looking for.

“I don’t understand.” Cloud said, clueless as usual.  “What’s the issue?”

Yuffie sighed.  “One of my duties as Lord of Wutai it to get married and produce an heir.” Yuffie began matter-of-factly.  “Now according to my father’s law, which he put in place when he formed the Council of Elders, they cannot chose for me who I am going to marry.   But what they can do – according to a loophole they found – is force me to ‘entertain suitors’” Yuffie said in disgust, emphasizing the phrase by drawing quotation marks in the air with her fingers.  “…which basically equates to those old fogey elders forcing me to date whatever snobby brats they can get their hands on.”

“Oh.” Cloud said simply.

“So yeah,” Yuffie continued.  “They can’t stop me from visiting my friends.  Well that is, of course, if you guys don’t mind.” she said towards Cloud and Tifa.  Some of the elders where smiling at their lord’s sudden change in attitude, including the one who still had a hand over his mouth to contain his mirth.  While others seemed displeased for reasons undisclosed.

“Of Course Yuffie, you’re welcome anytime” Tifa said smiling.  The gathering didn’t last much longer, Reeve promising to keep his forensic scientists looking for clues yet undiscovered, and Yuffie making arrangements to follow Cloud and Tifa’s motorcycle with one of her own chocobos.  As the meeting dispersed, Tifa hung back a little to corner a certain member of the Wutaian elders she wanted to talk to.  “You got Yuffie mad on purpose so she would come with us didn’t you?”  Tifa accused as soon as she got the elder alone.

“Yes.” the elder admitted.  “She is too proud to admit that the murder disturbed her, and the other elders really are too hard on her sometimes.”  The old man smiled pleasantly at Tifa.  “Despite the great responsibility she bears – and bears well mind you – She is still young in many ways and needs room to breathe from time to time.”

“Well thank you.” Tifa responded.  “If she ever needs more breathing room again just call, and Cloud and I will come kidnap her for you.”

The elder laughed.  “I’ll hold you to that promise.  Good travels to you and your husband Mrs. Strife.”