Sky Pirates
By Neh Neh

Chapter 1
Finding His Mark

It's many years back. Back when the small, glory city of Atmosia was still developing, and the other cities slowly fell to the Cyclonian forces. Including Gale, a peaceful, powerful city that was, as well as the rest, was being starved of power and life from the overwhelming forces. The sandy beaches of Gale, before peaking to the ghastly abyss below, held slight hope. A small cottage on the peak of a small hill held a small family, their family name Skyy. It consisted of a father, Robert, mother, Marie, and two young children, one a healthy four year-old Clint, the other a blind, young, two-year old girl named Mischa. While the mother and girl quietly took to the cottage, Robert and Clint sat at the beach, Clint gently sifting the grains of the sand between his toes, and Robert watching with a loving gaze.

For a moment, everything was quiet as they watched the peach orange sun settle, and the birds cry in unison as they headed back to their nests. Clint looked to his father, and asked in his quiet, yet strong British voice, "Dad…can I ask you something?"

Not wanting to disappoint his son, and with a gentle, robust look, spoke back. "Yes Clint, what is on your mind?" Turning to face the child, he noticed a slight uneasiness in his son.

"Well…I…I was at school t'day…and…Dove was actin' all weird at me…she never stops smilin'…I think she's makin' fun o' me…" He started with a nervous, slightly confused tone. He started digging into the sand with her index toe, a slight sigh escaping his small lips.

With a slight laugh, Robert looked down at Clint, and almost instantly knew that his son had obviously not realized the little girl's feelings for him. The man folded his arms together, and answered with slight jovial chuckle. "Oh, lad, she just likes ya." Continuing to laugh, the father bent down for a moment, and rubbed his son's coal black hair. "An' what's wrong with that, Clint?" The middle-aged man asked, now looking out to the cold, black pit of no-man's-land, also known as The Wastelands. Speaking up again, Clint folded his legs together as he sat down, and rested his chin on the knobs of his kneecaps.

"It's not that Dad…it's just…everyone else is…mad at me for it…they say Sky Pirates don't…deserve the attention…" Stammering out the last part, and his head lowering Clint catches the attention of his father, who blinks and kneels down again, slightly biting his bottom lip knowing it was time to tell his son the truth. "Dad…" Looking up with slight tears in his soft, blue eyes, Clint watches as his father gently lifts him up, and cradles his soft, light body in his arms.

"What's a Sky Pirate Clint? Well, it's simple, really, my son." He starts out, nighttime finally taking it's course as the sheet of dark clouds runs over the beautiful sky. Looking up at a five o'clock beard on it's way into a full, and the man belonging to it continuing his story. "Sky Pirates is a name given to those that scour the skies, without cash or reward. No reprise, no recognition, not even a parade."

This caused Clint to raise an eyebrow, almost not believing his father as he muttered softly,

"Nothing at all?"

Shaking his head in answer, Robert hushes his tone down as he approaches the stone cobbled path to their cottage. "All the Sky Pirates wish to do is carry on the flight name, keeping their name purely for themselves, and holding their flight beauties in top form." Hearing this, Clint could only imagine his father gently wiping the nose of a flying machine. Jolted out of his reverie, he heard his father's voice continue, "…Maybe that could be the reason you have never heard of them lad," Looking up to his strong, robust face again, Clint could now see a hint of sadness in his eyes,

"…but perhaps, the other is that the Sky Pirates are a dying breed. They used to be a vastly populated, well known pilots. Donning the name from the original Sky Pirate, Clint Skyy, your great-great-grandfather, the Sky Pirates spread their strange vigilante lifestyle through Atmos."

Hearing the name of his great-great-grandfather's name, Clint's eyes sparkled as he said with an excited voice, "Great-great-grampy Clint went to Atmos??! Really??" He asked out of disbelief, watching as his father nodded in answer, but gently hushed him as they stepped into their cottage. The first room was a small, tidy kitchen that had old-fashioned written all over it. Coal operated stoves, old marble sinks, and a rack outside window for drying dishes. To the left of them was a slightly larger living room, and to the front of the kitchen led to the storage area where they kept everything from food to simple dishes and accessories.

Taking a left, to be met by the warm feel of the living room accosted by their old-style furnace, Robert continued in his story with a softer voice, "For a while, they were happy, and so were the many people they saved. Of course, nothing too great can last too long, right?" This brought a slight fear, sadness into Clint's gut, a solemn, grave expression on his father's face. "…Eventually, greed, power, and villains caught up to the pirates. You see, the Sky Pirates didn't use the stone energy crap they do now…" His father, of course, was referring to the Energy Stones, such as the Aurora Stone, and the Phoenix Stone.

Blinking calmly, placidly, as his fatigue slowly crept up to him, and his eyelids seemed to get heavier with each passing word his father spoke, Clint listened on, "…and that, well, doomed them in the end, Clint…" This, once again, brought slight sadness to Clint again, seeing a slight sad expression past through his father's eyes as they ascended the wooden staircase. Each step Robert made was met by a small, exasperated creak from the old, chestnut wood finish. Now in the hallway, with but three doors greeting them. One to their parents, the second to Clint's, the third Mischa's. Going into Clint's small, slightly cramped room, the young child felt his eyelids being harder to hold open, as he listened to his father continue on. "…They were completely wiped out, and now, only a few generations exist. Including ours, Clint…"

At the last part, Clint's eyes rocketed open, his head raising as he started to interrupt, "Dad…what are you--"

His voice overshadowed by his father's, he listened as the truth was brought out, "Clint, you are a Sky Pirate." He stated with a proud tone, smiling suddenly as he slowly, and gently laid down Clint on his small, wooden plated bed. "You were born to carry on the tradition, you and your sister. But then, you would have guessed that if your great-great-grandfather was a Sky Pirate himself, right?" Still standing, he bent over to tuck the still startled Clint in, laughing slightly at his expression as he straightened, and folded his arms together. "I suppose it's time you received the helmet your great-great-grandfather wore when he was a Sky Pirate…"

This only made Clint's eyes bulge larger as he watched his father leave the room for a moment, just before he could exclaim, 'Really?!'. Returning shortly with a green war helmet in his hands, Clint could only look on as his father observed it keenly, kneeling down next to his bed as he handed it to him. Holding the monstrous helmet in his hands, he now noticed the finer details of the helmet. War decals decorated the helmet sides, a yellow visor near the top able to be retracted down shining in a brilliant array, and white flight wings on the sides near the top pointing proudly to the sides.

"This, Clint, is th' first war helmet your great-great-grandfather wore as a Sky Pirate. It has every single battle victory decal he ever fought in on it." The man stated, Clint then noticing the helmet's golden victory seals of wings all over the back of the helmet, as well as some running over the sides, the titles of each Atmos battle area on the seals, from Atmosia to Tropica. "Now, Clint, this helmet belongs to you. C'mon! Try it on now!" He said with a smile, watching as Clint slipped on the helmet, and was met shortly by it sinking over his eyes, Robert laughing as his son whimpered, and gently took it off. "It'll grow into ya eventually Clint, but for now, your training should start tomorrow. I'll ask Wren to help train you and Mischa t'morrow, alright?" Standing to smile at his son, Robert turned in heel to walk quietly out the room, grasping the door with his hand as he slowly closed it behind him, not before turning to smile at Clint and say,

"However, Clint, remember…it's your turn to fill in that helmet. Don't let fear hold you back."

AN: My first attempt at a Storm Hawks story, so I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter. Although short, I meant for this chapter to simply introduce the OC (original character), briefly explain what a Sky Pirate was and their small history, and also, to give a simple start to the following chapters. Thanks for reading, and hopefully you enjoy the rest of the story as it undertakes.