A/N: Title and story inspired by Canadian singer-songwriter, Buffy Sainte-Marie. I recommend listening to the song to understand the tone and emotion I've tried to convey (before the plot got away from me). Story also influenced by the 80's cartoon, She-Ra: Princess of Power. Dark Ace's apartment is modelled after Rick Deckard's from the film, Blade Runner. Elements of wielding crystal power inspired by the tv show Once Upon A Time.
I knew this story would be a monster to write. And it was. Longest one-shot to date, I had to chop it up into chapters because there was no way I could read 20K+ words on a single page. I also couldn't continue Rapunzel unless this one was completed.
UNTIL IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO GO
Chapter One
.
You're not a dream, you're not an angel. You're a man.
I'm not a queen, I'm a woman. Take my hand.
We'll make a space in the lives that we'd planned.
And here we'll stay, until it's time for you to go.
.
All hail Terra Cyclonia. All hail Master Cyclonis. May the empire reign long.
Cyclonia had won.
The Sky Council disintegrated, the Elders scattered to the four corners of the winds. The Federation of the Sky Knights broken beyond repair, and Terra Atmosia destroyed.
And he watched her mature. She grew in height and weight but barely filled out the teenage lines of her body with the underwhelming body mass of a young woman. Her hair remained purple but it was longer now, ended a few inches below the line of her shoulders. The ends would have curled inwards into a gentle wave, a fetching feminine bob if she cared about her appearance. Washed her hair more often. Brushed it out.
She didn't. Didn't particularly care about the way she presented herself. She was queen here, and she needed to please no one.
A mole on upper part of of her left cheek. A tiny beauty mark.
Master Cyclonis would have been considered beautiful, angular and severe, were it not her crystals. She walked like a royal, commanded like a god, and loved none. Not even him, anymore. The Empire was her life, and her life was paramount to all. An early victory spoiled the once-teenage girl, molded her into a paranoid, narcissistic ruler, and the only thing she trusted these days had no heart to speak of.
The army declared fealty to her, undying loyalty to their Master.
He had done the same.
In turn she ruled them all with solid cement in her heart and steel in her hands. Guided the world from her citadel of stone, her purple eyes gleamed with power. It had been years since her triumph but a small irritation nagged away at her. Like a scab that wouldn't fully heal, she picked at it, at those who dared defy her.
The Rebellion itched away at her. Got under her skin. The fools. They still fought for a Free Atmos. Still rallied the cry underneath their mishmash of different flags, different nations. Merbs, Wallops, Blizzarians, and Humans. And more. There were whispers of more towns defecting to the opposition. More rebels. More agitators.
Fiddling with the dried skin around her chipped, yellow fingernails, the queen sighed distressingly. How bothersome the rabble had become, they poked at her sides and stole her property. Rescued small villages from her Talons, stole her prisoners from Terra Zartacla. She had to relieve Mr. Moss from his position as Warden, the chubby man proved to be more effort than his worth. Good help was so hard to find, and the run of an empire could not be left to an overconfident group of self-serving ninnies.
She stroked a Striker crystal against her clothed thigh. Master Cyclonis sat upon her arched throne, the spokes rose tall above her head like a crown, and she moaned. The cold permeated the fabric, chilled her exceptionally pale skin with a lovely shiver.
Crystals. Minerals. Gemstones.
The true source of her power. The things she truly loved, the ones who would never fail her. Her crystal mastery was the sole reason she won the old wars – and the queen trembled, recalled the feel of The Binding. It felt absolutely wonderful. A dark rush of the blood, the high she never wanted to end. The woman's brow lowered into a pensive frown, instantaneously remembered she never performed that particular magic again. A tragedy for one who loved power. The Dark Ace was useless now. Cast aside, shunned.
If she cared enough she would have known her first champion still roamed the halls. Walked without purpose, torpid and lethargic.
The crystal glowed as she rubbed it against her knee. It slipped out of her hand as her eyes fluttered closed as if in a daze. As it clattered to the ground it tinkled and echoed throughout the throne room. A crooked smile appeared on her desiccated lips. Crystals made her sigh, made her happy.
There were never enough.
Her chambers were filled with crystals of all colours, all sizes. All kinds. A connoisseur of power, she rarely went without one of her cool stones on her person. If she did, she screeched and screamed at whichever Talon guard was close by and the soldier was obliged to follow their Master back to her rooms. Wait outside the door, stand at the ready, while she eyed her hoard greedily from within.
They protected her, made her feel invincible. No one else was allowed to relish such supreme beauty. The spectrum of colours mesmerized the queen, gushed a technicolour life behind her purple irises as she ruled the grey walls of her kingdom.
The Dark Ace – in name only if not in favour, returned to his chambers in a stupor. At one thousand square feet his private quarters were in no means extravagant, but it was comfortable. Groggy. Far away from the throne room and the tower of Master Cyclonis, situated in the dusty west-facing corner of the aged castle. His windows overlooked the rusty terrain of the windy deserts outside, the line of the horizon being the edge of the terra, before the floating island dropped off suddenly into the Wastelands below.
His rooms oozed forced retirement. A bachelor to the end, he ran a hand over his drooping eyes and exhaled. Always so sleepy. No matter how much he dusted, or vacuumed, or downright neglected to pick up after himself, his lonely life remained the same just like his apartment.
Gifted from Master Cyclonis, the former champion was stripped of his command, his honour, and her approval when the queen announced she no longer had use for him. He would live here instead. He was getting old and that was enough of an excuse. Everyone knew he was an embarrassment to her despite his great service to the Empire Cyclonia. The only man to thoroughly defeat the original Storm Hawks, he and the Master crushed the Republic of the Free Atmos with the combined power of The Binding ten long years ago.
None of his later accomplishments lived up to that one great moment. Failure after failure, the Rebellion thwarted him, poured their efforts into punishing the man responsible for their continued oppression. The queen was not pleased. The Dark Ace was not pleased either. He was a good commander, a loyal soldier. He proved his worth.
Remember who was your partner in all of this. Remember I was your champion once.
Resigned to a meagre existence, the Dark Ace didn't require much. He'd given up. A double bed, long enough to accommodate his tall height, pushed against the far wall underneath the largest of the windows. A bedside table-dresser lay next to it with a cream-coloured lamp on top.
A fair-sized kitchen to the right side of the apartment, momentarily cluttered with empty chip bags, plastic drink containers with the straws still in them, and take out. The bathroom just beyond that, filled with both a black-tiled shower and a white porcelain tub. It was nice, he didn't have to squeeze through the door to grab a towel from the linen tower beside the sink. And he always kept it clean.
The Dark Ace had no maid to look after him.
It was just one big room, this place, with the exception of the wall-to-ceiling separation of the kitchen. Even then it couldn't be considered a real partition, he could see the fridge and the stove from his front door. Half-worn clothing and stacks of books littered the floor, cluttered his desk next to the lumpy olive-green sofa, a gossip magazine flipped upside down upon the seat.
He had an overpriced radio somewhere inside here, top of the line back when he purchased it, and a phone too. But nobody called. Likely buried underneath one of his sweaters, gathering dust.
Isolated, nobody visited him and he didn't attempt to be sociable. Everyone who might have cared – whether they considered themselves friend or colleague – had died. Murdered in service to Master Cyclonis. Displeased her one way or another, and marched to the dungeons in the underbelly of the castle. No one was lucky. Either they faced execution right away or were left to rot in prison for several weeks before death. Everyone was guilty, nobody loved her enough. Every soldier was replaceable.
Including the Dark Ace.
Once, just once the man ventured outside the castle wearing a heavy cloak pulled over his head and hair, seeking to purchase groceries and possibly kitschy souvenirs if he happened upon them. He'd taken a liking to ugly, garish things – like himself. Snuck out of the stone walls and the guards like a guilty thief, and snuck right back in.
-And summoned straight into the throne room the next day. A seething Master Cyclonis gripped the edge of her spiky, steel throne. Didn't bother to keep her anger in check as she berated him.
He was not to go outside of the citadel, not to show his face to the public. What an embarrassment to her, his queen. Did he want to go to the dungeons? If he did, just say so. But if he needed something, just find one of the Talons and tell them to do whatever needed to be done, just as long as he didn't stray outside like a misbehaved dog. Any questions? No? Then get out of my sight, you fool. You worthless dog. Don't show up around here anymore, the sight of his face made her teeth ache.
The Dark Ace bowed, got down on one knee before her. Master Cyclonis arched her neck high, looked away and dismissed him. She couldn't look into his eyes, he disgusted her so.
Aerrow was her first and possibly, only love.
During the war their affection grew. Their friendship blossomed into appreciation, respect and infatuation, and finally evolved into love. At first it had been slow, lots of glancing looks and whispered sighs behind charter maps and microscopes. Piper hoped one day Aerrow would smile at her just a little differently. If – when he held her hand, it meant a little bit more. If he could kiss her cheek and compliment her blue hair.
Their unspoken feelings expanded between them like carbon dioxide within the red fire extinguishers. It foamed and flowed until there was no space left in their chests but to actually speak their minds. By this time Aerrow did smile at her, complimented her hair, and made his intentions of love obvious when he presented Piper with a single white rose on her birthday.
The Condor and the Storm Hawks kept them together, and for that they were grateful. Before the team split apart out of necessity, before their humiliating defeat against Master Cyclonis and the Dark Ace, they believed their bond to be strong. But it wasn't enough. Their connection wasn't as strong as the Cyclonians. Piper almost died that day and would have if it hadn't been for Aerrow carrying her out of battle.
The days following were absolute chaos. Squadrons torn apart, terras conquered. But Aerrow looked into her eyes, his gaze soft and encouraging, and told her she'd done well. They did the best they could. The fight wasn't over yet, it just got a little harder.
She smiled to herself, whittled away at a piece of wood that would serve as a training staff for the new recruits. A bunch of farmers from a small terra, refugees who looked to escape the empire. Twenty individuals in all, four or five families. The adults were strong, used to hard labour but lacked the skill of a soldier.
Piper the Storm Hawk, now a captain of the Rebellion. And Aerrow remained a Sky Knight, a hero. Still fighting with his twin blades, still harbouring that quintessential hope. The most amazing man she had ever know, and she'd know. Encountered a lot of strange characters over the years. Aerrow was her Sky Knight: her foundation, her rock. Wherever he was, that was her home.
One incredible day the empire would fall. When Master Cyclonis was stopped, when the queen lay in the Rebellion's hands and the world was free again, Aerrow vowed to marry her. He wanted to do it properly, in a chapel with flowers and formal dress, and not exchange vows underneath the shade of an oak tree in the dark of night. She deserved better and he would give it to her. Just wait and see.
She loved him so much.
Delaying their marriage wasn't a question of love, but dignity. Piper understood. She could wait.
And under the cover of the trees, hidden out of Talon sight, they slept together. Huddled close underneath the dark forest of an unpopulated terra, they held hands and whispered of the days to come. The call to reconvene hadn't arrived yet, and their recon missions were a success. The redhead held her close as they lay beneath the copy of trees and shared the most wonderful dream.
When the war was over they would settle. They would have a house with a green door, and children. Lots of them. Three of four. Afford to send them to school, when the schools reopened. Their first child would be a boy and they would name him Strike, after Aerrow's father. The first leader of the original Storm Hawks. He would have brown skin like his mother and dark red hair. He would smile just like her.
But their daughter. Oh, their daughter. She would be a trouble maker. Give Piper grief with a hard pregnancy and be stubborn up to the moment she was born. Her name would be Cora, and be into all sorts of mischief. Caramel skin and purple hair, she would be the one to teach her other siblings how to climb trees and how to fish. How to sneak into the kitchen and steal sand cakes without getting caught. The one their parents hid in a jar on top of the fridge. She would be the protector. Had the innate ability to care for all.
A third child. Another son. Hawk was a good name, Aerrow supposed. The sensitive one, added Piper. Little Hawk. He'd look just like his father with white milky skin and spend all his time with his older siblings. He would be an artist, love to bake in the kitchen. Miraculously never come down with the common cold, not unlike the rest of his family when flu season came around.
Hawk would be the first to contract chicken pox and share the childhood ailment with his brother and sister. That was one thing Aerrow and Piper were not looking forward too.
But what about their fourth kid? The pregnancy that wasn't supposed to happen?
What pregnancy? Piper giggled when her lover pressed his open hand against the flat of her stomach. She nuzzled his nose.
The last pregnancy, I swear. Was his reply.
Better be, Mr. Sky Knight. She was the one who had to carry their kids for nine months at a time, and then give birth. Her uterus wasn't a clown car. She couldn't lay on her back all day while he got her pregnant, as much as she loved him.
Aerrow laughed loud and hard, choked on his mirth. He had to kiss her after a remark like that. Apologize. Piper would only carry as many children as she wanted to, and whatever she chose he would be happy with her decision. The woman in his embrace grinned in victory then murmured something unintelligible.
What was that?
A name. They didn't have a name for their last little girl. The fourth.
We'll get to that bridge when we cross it.
Secretly they both thought of names, the promise of a wondrous future gleamed inside them like a flowing ribbon of clear spring water.
Three beautiful children. Maybe four.
It was a lovely dream. And it would happen.
Whispering, Aerrow confessed he loved her since they were fourteen. He was so lucky to have her, to hold her like this when others had lost so many loved ones. Whole terras were destroyed, the Atmos in flames. They were meant to be together, he just knew it.
Piped adored him whenever he said that. It wasn't the first confession and he liked to tell her he loved her often, but every instance he did the words remained fresh and new. He was always sincere and she loved that about him. With her he could afford to be sentimental. Forget about the death they failed to prevent, the friends they had lost. The years spent in hiding.
Aerrow kissed her cheek, wished her goodnight, and fell asleep in Piper's arms.
The years passed and they stayed together, loved each other and fought in the name of the Rebellion. Won small battles, rescued prisoners of war. Flew with Stork as he sailed the Condor for covert operation that required the utmost urgency.
The ship remained the fastest in the world, and word needed to be delivered in person. The radio couldn't be trusted with this information. The airways were bugged with hidden Talons. They had to be careful not to step into the aural landmines.
Sometimes Aerrow and Piper separated for weeks at a time, each on their own mission. That was the worst, not being in contact, not knowing whether the other was captured or safe or even alive. Fidelity was on physical shield against Striker crystals or armoured Talons. When they reunited under the safety of the Rebellion stronghold, they made love to each other long into the night.
And still they would not get married. Not yet.
Six years and still Cyclonia ruled.
Six years their relationship bloomed considering the bleak circumstances.
Six years, until the day they had to part.
The last remaining Elder of the Sky Council had been found. Presumed dead like the rest of the ancient circle, he evaded the initial massacre of Terra Atmosia under the safety of the Red Eagles. For years Grebes kept his secret, travelled from terra to terra with his last remaining grandson. But the Rebellion was in dire need of hope, and he had it.
The old man succumbed to pneumonia, his brittle bones unable to support the weight of a frail man and the stress of survivor's guilt. It had been a long life and it was time to present his final gift.
He summoned the female Storm Hawk. Dispassionately Piper entered his tent as the other leaders of the Rebellion eyeballed her curiously. Her face gave nothing away while she forced her heart still. Aerrow was amongst those outside the tent, his long red hair fell about his eyes, his mouth a thin, tight line.
This mission was Piper's, and hers alone.
In her hands, wrapped in a dirty oilcloth was the only remaining piece of the powerful Aurora Stone. It held immense power but was unstable. Broken twice, it was a dangerous artifact. The Elder spent years searching for this rare treasure and now it belonged to her. The Council, before it was destroyed, heard of the woman's ability to use The Binding, and with this fragmented crystal, one day she might have to perform such magic again. Face Master Cyclonis a second time with a champion of her own, namely Aerrow. His old eyes knew they were in love, and their connection was stronger now than before.
Go undercover, directed the dying Elder. Fuse the Aurora Stone with a Cloaking crystal, a Striker crystal – whatever power she needed, and infiltrate the Cyclonian castle. She could do it, she was a crystal mage equal to the queen. The gemstone was strong enough to protect her against most things. She had to be smart now, for the Rebellion couldn't protect her anymore. Make herself invisible, fake her own death. Hide in plain sight.
There was more he had to tell.
Sky Knights were expiring like flies, hunted down by the Night Crawlers at the Master's behest. It was only a matter of time til crystal specialists like her were next.
A Guardian, those mysterious winged beings that appeared to the Storm Hawks many years ago, had been taken by the Talons. Tortured for weeks, the shape shifter betrayed the downfall of the empire. Master Cyclonis would feel death at the hands of a traitor, a hero who could perform The Binding. Someone whom the queen-
An explosion shook the domed roofs of the grey citadel and the Guardian burst into flame, chose to face oblivion at his own hand. The soldiers moved back in horror, afraid of the magic this winged being wielded so easily. In the shadows the Dark Ace watched, his crimson eyes narrowed in suspicion.
The Guardian's suffering was long and endless, and he yearned for release. He betrayed his kind to physical weakness, and the empress could not be allowed to know more.
One of their spies, a Talon commander died passing this knowledge to the Elder. The Rebellion cheered at the news then quickly sobered as they processed the message. So far there were only three individuals in the world who could defeat Master Cyclonis. They had to be heroes. There were two on their side, Aerrow and Piper. The third contestant, the Dark Ace, lay dormant and lazy in the Cyclonian castle.
The Storm Hawks had to be protected. Rebels would lay down their lives to keep Talon hands off them.
And the enemy remembered Piper, the queen's greatest threat. How close the Free Atmos had been to winning. And if Master Cyclonis ever caught her, well -
Let's hope that would never come to pass.
Piper accepted the missive with a heavy heart and a guilty hand. Felt responsible for the victory of Cyclonia. If only she and Aerrow had been stronger, if only their bond had been as unbreakable then as it was now, the world would have been a much different place. They were just fourteen then, before they fell in love. Thousands of deaths weighed upon her curled shoulders and in that suffocating tent, the woman promised to carry out her mission to the Elder.
She would become the traitor foretold. With the strength of the Aurora Stone and crystal engineering, even the Night Crawlers couldn't detect her well-crafted illusion. The crystal would be safe with her. Master Cyclonis would never find her, and when the Rebellion was ready for that final battle, she would strike.
Their people were dying. Free folk murdered or forced to become Talons. The history of the world was all wrong and Piper was going to fix it.
God help the Sky Knights. May Atmos protect them from the Empire.
A week later the rebels received word what happened to Carver, the traitor twice over. Master Cyclonis developed a new plan to counteract the Guardian's words. She attempted to perform The Binding with the former Red Eagle. The man had been foolish to think he was talented enough to survive the ordeal, and died screaming in agony as his body crystallized and shattered into a thousand pieces.
His remains were swept up efficiently. The queen scratched at a dry patch of skin on her cheek before turning to her guards and ordered another Sky Knight for tomorrow's menu.
Aside from the weakened Elder, only one other man knew of her mission. Aerrow.
A Sky Knight. The only other individual aside from the infamous Dark Ace who could perform The Binding. He was Master Cyclonis' first choice now. Aerrow chose to stay with the Rebellion, stay out of the Empire's reach while Piper slipped inside and disappeared from the radar. He would fight twice as hard in her absence, but she had to fake her death oh so carefully. With her out of the picture she was safe from The Night Crawlers and the hunt.
Piper would transform into a wolf in sheep's clothing, physically and mentally. Only the sheep weren't so peaceful.
And Aerrow had to play the part of a grieving lover. Had to let her go. The stereotype wasn't too far off from the truth. His former First Officer had to venture to Terra Cyclonia alone, where no one would know her. Where no one could protect her. Where he could not see her.
They did not know how long they would be apart, but they weren't stupid enough to hope it would be for only a few months. When the prophecy would take place was unknown. It could be next year, or in another ten years from now. There was so much to prepare between now and then.
A good soldier could rise in the ranks quickly, but Piper needed to be noteworthy while avoiding unnecessary attention to herself. Blend inconspicuously. Strike friendships with Talons, get into the queen's good graces without the eye of suspicion. Master Cyclonis was paranoid, maddeningly so.
Enlisting was the easy part. The Talons were always recruiting. Evil always needed good help.
Months passed and Aerrow dreaded the day of her inevitable departure. Even he didn't know when she would leave. Piper wouldn't tell him. What if she tried to fake her death and actually died? Why couldn't she confide in him, her Sky Knight? He was good, he could cover for her. Maybe take one last look before they parted for what felt like forever. They still had a wedding to plan in the future.
Atmos, protect her.
He sat dejected on his cot, elbows rested on his knees, his hands rubbed his mouth. Swallowed the terror. Tried to maintain even breaths as panic bubbled forth. More bad news. A few days ago Atmos lost Starling, Sky Knight of the Interceptors. The warrior put up a brave fight, taken out a squadron of Talons in the face of inevitable capture, and fought Master Cyclonis dauntlessly.
The Binding required both parties to flow with mutual mental harmony, and if her partner could not be persuaded to join, then the queen would make them. Turn the heroes to her side, and foil the prophecy.
She experimented with a new kind of mind control using crystals, something that would lessen the unnecessary use to military force to hunt those pesky Sky Knights. She needed her army to enforce her lands, weed out those rebels. Moreover, the mind control gave her power over the other. One clever brain directing two bodies maximized efficiency, removed all those unwanted inhibitions. Like playing with a puppet or a limp doll.
Starling was a hero, a great one. The Interceptor would fight for her, or if she was unworthy of such greatness, face obliteration just like Carver.
Alas, it was not to be.
The mind control was too strong, or the Sky Knight too weak.
One scream. Just one scream and then she was dead. A pity. The seasoned warrior showed so much promise. She had come highly recommended, but the Hanzo crystals embedded in her nunchucks were a pretty souvenir. The queen would keep them, she held claim to them now.
Activated, the crystal emitted a power that was sharp and strong, felt like blades sliding across her skin.
Too bad about Starling.
Moving on. Who else was on the list?
Piper's heart broke when she saw him cry. He worried about her so much. She hated keeping secrets from him, finally gave in and told him two days earlier she planned to leave today. But now she had only a few hours before a group of rebels went out on a mission, and time was not on their side.
Inside her little bag she was going to bring was a crystal, the fragment of the Aurora Stone merged with the powers of other gemstones – a crystal unlike any other. It had been hard work as she prepared in secret, spent her time working in makeshift laboratories – away from him. She created a persona, a disguise, a plan.
Once she was a Talon Piper doubted there was room in the castle to steal crystals and refine the Aurora Stone, so her work had to be completed here in the Rebellion stronghold.
Her death was the first part of the mission. A convoy of rebels onboard the Condor, headed towards Terra Deep. A rescue mission in the underwater mines, caverns filled with raw stones. A fight, an explosion, and then Piper would be no more. They would find her hair and some scraps of clothing in the waters, but the seas were too deep to find her body.
Aerrow was angry and very upset, loathing this all, but he also understood. That was the bad part. He was a soldier too and her mission was too important to sacrifice. Master Cyclonis needed a traitor to fulfil the Guardian's vision. All the better if it was Piper, the woman who'd come so close to defeating her the first time.
So they would sacrifice each other instead for the good of the world. Told their lover they would see each other again soon, they had too. Both were ranked high on the list of Cyclonia's Most Wanted.
They spoke in broken sentences.
Be careful. Fight the Talons. Swim like you mean it. Do well. I love you.
In their last hours Piper took him to her bed with the intent of making love, but Aerrow just held her instead. Bodies curled around each other on the small cot, they had so much emotion within but not the strength to exchange long words. This was going to be a long separation. Maybe they didn't need to speak anymore. What else did they need to know about each other?
Other than I love you.
Aerrow turned his face away from her, buried his head in the pillows when the tears came. Repressed his sobs in a manner most unhealthy and almost forgot to breathe. Gritted his teeth in misery, his countenance betrayed immense torment. He couldn't do this. The man would give anything to be with her, just so she wouldn't have to be alone. He hated to imagine his Piper living under an assumed name – become a Talon. She would have to recite the national anthem and watch her friends die around her.
Brown hands held his tight and she laid her face against the fabric of his blue shirt. Kissed him plenty. Touched his face with her fingertips and memorized the visage of the one she loved. Piper felt sick to her stomach and didn't want to count the time. Eventually, she cried too.
The others were wrong about him, Aerrow wasn't brave at all. Not about this. He was petrified, completely terrified at the thought of losing Piper. How could she be so calm about this? Why did she have to say yes to the Elder? Did she really know what she was getting into?
All rhetorical questions.
And yes, she did know. He did too. But Piper apologized for telling him so late, so close to saying goodbye, but she wasn't going to say anything at all at first. Was that cruel of her? But she loved him so much and didn't want to regret not saying goodbye before – before her false death. No one would know but him. She knew he would still mourn her. Perhaps he would be affected most of all.
She had a name for their little girl. The fourth baby they were going to have. Nadiya, the long forgotten name of her birth mother. It meant hope.
The Sky Knight managed to smile a teeny bit. He looked forward to meeting their youngest daughter. It was a good name.