Disclaimer: "Once in Every Lifetime" is a song from the soundtrack of the movie Eragon and is performed by Jem. I own no Storm Hawks nor the book or movie or soundtrack Eragon, nor the song "Once in Every Lifetime".
Author's Notes: All of you need to listen to this song at some point. It's absolutely beautiful!
Storm Hawks—Once in Every Lifetime
By WhispertheWolf
Gazing at the new skyline before him, Aerrow was overcome with emotions: excitement, joy, elation, hope, amazement, wonder, curiosity, and yes, even nervousness.
They had reached the far side of Atmos.
Aerrow glanced around at his friends. They'd come so far before they came here. It was a wonder that they were here at all.
Aerrow could remember how they had all started out as simply a group of lost kids, orphaned by the war.
After Aerrow's home terra was conquered by the Cyclonians when he was a little boy, he had been on his own. At first, he had struggled to survive and was terribly alone and afraid. But he was adaptable, and one does what one must to endure.
The biggest help to him was Radarr. Ever since they had found each other, the two had taken care of each other. Radarr had given Aerrow something to care about, to live for, and to believe in. He helped him see that sometimes you needed each other to succeed.
Not long after they met Finn, an orphan who had been alone long enough to stop grieving but not long enough to really know what to do or to realize that complaining could solve nothing. Aerrow had taken him under his wing immediately, partially out of the feeling of responsibility toward him and mostly because he took an immediate liking to him.
Piper had been doing just fine on her own when she met the trio. It was wrong to say that Aerrow took her under his wing as he did with Finn and Radarr; rather, Piper took them under her wing.
Aerrow smiled at the memories as a new one came to mind: the day they had found out that he was the last descendent of Lightning Strike, the deceased leader of the legendary Storm Hawks. That meant it was Aerrow's duty to take up where his ancestor left off.
The four friends had settled on their own terra, a little place they called Terra Neverlandis. Unfortunately, Grimsley, another boy about the kids' age, made Terra Neverlandis the target for his Cyclonian Youth Brigade. It was Junko, a Wallop kid fighting for Grimsley, who helped them out of that mess. He agreed to help fight for the new Storm Hawks, for he wanted to be a "good guy".
Their quest had been to find the Condor. That's where Stork came in. He sort of came with the ship.
Aerrow could remember when they had first used the Condor to chase Grimsley off their little terra. Afterward they had chosen to live in the Condor. Back then, he couldn't believe it. After all this, all his fighting to keep him and his friends alive, struggling to get their next meal and stay free; after all that had happened, now they could live in luxury on their very own ship, a carrier none other than the legendary Condor.
All they had to do was step into the footprints of the greatest Sky Knight squadron of all time.
It's time to move out of the darkness.
Use what you feel inside.
Elated as he was, Aerrow had been scared. He knew how to fight—he had to learn in order to stay alive in this cruel world torn apart by war—and he certainly had practice being a leader. Ever since he and his friends had been together, it always seemed that they had looked to him for guidance. But even so, was he ready for this?
He had glanced around the bridge of the ship, his ship, their ship. And they all had watched him expectantly, waiting for his orders. And they had been smiling.
It was at that moment that Aerrow knew he could do this.
Your faith alone will guide you.
Feel the turning tide.
First thing was first. They needed to be an official Sky Knight squadron. Although Aerrow had inherited the right to be the leader of the Storm Hawks, he still needed to earn his position as Sky Knight. It involved rigorous training so that he may pass the Sky Knight Trials.
The training, he soon learned, was the easy part. The Trials were terrifying. He had to do the most skillful flying techniques on his Skimmer, had to go through an endurance course timed, and duel, using his weapon of choice, with a master swordsman.
But Aerrow only squared his shoulders as he prepared himself. He was going to do this.
It's in your heart. It's in your soul.
Don't be scared. Keep believing.
The Skimmer maneuvers were easy. The endurance course was challenging and left him out of breath, but he finished with time to spare.
Then there was the duel.
The master swordsman's blade was a long, curved saber. Lit by a yellow striker crystal embedded in the handle, it shone like the sun at dawn and dusk. In comparison, it made Aerrow's smaller twin blades look tiny and insignificant.
Swallowing, Aerrow stared as the masked swordsman stepped out into the middle of the ring, waiting for Aerrow to join him.
At first, Aerrow couldn't move. But then there was a soft hand on his shoulder. "Go get him, Aerrow," Piper whispered softly to him.
He glanced back to see her beside him. Squeezing his shoulder, she gave him an encouraging nod. Behind her, Junko smiled, Stork urged him on with his hands, Finn gave him thumbs up, and Radarr churred excitedly.
Aerrow set his face in a scowl and stared ahead of him. Yes, he could do this.
I know you know deep inside,
That your time has come.
The swordsman came first, and it was all Aerrow could do to get out of the way of the saber. Unfazed, the masked one tried again. Aerrow kept dodging, leaping around the swordsman to keep the blade away from him. But no matter what Aerrow did, he couldn't gain an edge. He was growing tired, and his opponent had barely broken a sweat.
But then Aerrow had noticed something. Every time the swordsman swung right, he put all his weight on his right leg instead of evenly distributing his weight.
The next time the masked one swung for him, Aerrow ducked and rolled, striking out with his legs for the swordsman's right knee. The blow was enough to get the man on the ground.
With luck with him once more, Aerrow held his twin blades at the ready, and for the first time, he struck offensively. The swordsman's saber met his blades, and the two were soon fighting par, weaving around each other in an intricate dance.
Aerrow was never quite sure how it happened, but in one swift movement, he had struck, spun around behind the swordsman, and knocked him down. He was so shocked by his own success that it took him a moment to remember to put his blade under the swordsman's chin.
His friends all stared in shock. Winning had not been the point of the duel; the point was to evaluate Aerrow's skills. No one had beaten the master in the Trials duel since Lightning Strike came to be knighted.
And Aerrow had done it.
He was now the youngest Sky Knight in the history of Atmos.
Once in every lifetime, if you do believe,
Man can move a mountain,
Change the course of history.
"I now pronounce you, Sky Knight Aerrow!" the head judge had said as lay his unlit sword on the kneeling Aerrow's shoulder. "You may rise."
Aerrow had gotten to his feet and walked over to his friends, trying to look dignified. But once he got there, he was overwhelmed by hugs, slaps on the back, and cheers.
Aerrow could only smile ear to ear. And to think, they had started out as a group of orphans from a tiny little terra in the middle of nowhere.
How far we've come,
So far from home.
It was back on the Condor, after much celebration, that the true meaning of Aerrow's new title sank in. He found himself on the balcony, once again staring out at the sky in uncertainty.
Not only was he a Sky Knight now, but he had to do what no other Sky Knight had done before: bring peace to Atmos.
Aerrow shook his head. He couldn't see how he was supposed to do that. But the Guardians of Atmos had said he was the only one who could.
He sure hoped the group of prophets knew what they were doing, because he was relying on their words now.
Trust in your path. You've been chosen.
Become your destiny.
When he came back in, Aerrow was confronted by the others once more. "Whereto now?" Piper had asked him.
"What do you think?"
"You're the Sky Knight."
The answer took Aerrow aback. He and Piper had always done things in partnership.
The true meaning of leadership was becoming clearer.
Aerrow thought carefully before he answered. There was one more step to following this destiny of theirs. They had to become an official Sky Knight squadron. "Terra Atmosia," was his answer. He did his best to make his voice authoritative and confident.
Stork followed his orders without hesitation.
But Aerrow just couldn't help himself. The formalities were getting old. So he turned to his friends and asked, "Who wants to race there?"
Lead and they will follow you.
Your truth will set you free.
It had been a fun race—which of course, Aerrow and Radarr had won—but the moment they had landed, they had been noticed by a young boy. "Look, Dad!" he had said excitedly, tugging his father's sleeve. "It's the Storm Hawks!"
But the boy's father had just frowned at them and led his boy away. "Those aren't the Storm Hawks. Not the real ones."
Everyone had looked so down after the comment that Aerrow felt the need to cheer his friends up. "Come on, guys," he said. "We're here to do something about that, remember?"
But even as he said it, he felt uneasy. What if the registrar had the same feelings as the boy's father?
But no, that couldn't be. Aerrow was a Sky Knight and the rightful heir to the Storm Hawks. And his friends were some of the most talented individuals of their own skills. There was no way the Sky Knight Council could turn them away.
It's in your heart. It's in your soul.
Don't be scared. Keep believing.
"The Council will be most pleased to hear that the new Storm Hawks squadron has formed," the registrar had said after reviewing their paperwork, asking some questions, and recording them in the Council's record book. "Your predecessors were greatly admired." He pointed his feather pen at the eager young Sky Knight. "You have much to live up to, Aerrow."
Aerrow stood up proudly as he felt the moment coming. "We're ready," he insisted.
I know you know deep inside,
That your time has come.
But just when Aerrow was reaching for the pen to sign, the registrar snatched the pen away. "Wait just a minute!" he exclaimed, adjusting his glasses. "How old are you?"
Aerrow had winced, knowing his answer would probably prove disastrous if he said it. But he did anyway. "Fourteen."
The doors to the Council Hall had closed in front of the unofficial Storm Hawks.
Aerrow had stared at the door as it closed. What's wrong with a fourteen-year-old Sky Knight? What's wrong with most of his squadron being no older than himself? Sure, they were young. Sure, Aerrow was the youngest Sky Knight ever to be knighted. Sure, Aerrow didn't even have his own special move yet. But what difference did that make?
Finn's voice entered his thoughts. "Told ya this was a waste of time!"
Yes, it had been, Aerrow agreed silent, but it changes nothing. "So we may not be 'official'," he told them. "But I'm still a Sky Knight," he gestured toward them, "you're still my squadron, and we're still friends, right?"
His words hadn't cheered anyone up at the time. But in the end, they did it. They made themselves a Sky Knight squadron, without the consensus of the Council. Because they wanted to. Because they had to. The world needed heroes, and the Storm Hawks weren't going to stand around and wait to be rescued.
Once in every lifetime, if you do believe,
Man can move a mountain,
Change the course of history.
Their first mission had been quick in coming. They hadn't even left Atmosia yet before trouble had struck, and within a matter of days, the Storm Hawks had set it right, saving all of Atmos in the process. And best of all, Aerrow had found his signature move, the Lightning Claw, and had beaten the Dark Ace, widely considered to be the best and most dangerous dogfighter of them all.
It was amazing what a mere group of orphan kids could do.
How far we've come,
So far from home.
Aerrow frowned deeply as he thought up another memory . . . back when Cyclonia had won the war. Master Cyclonis had torn the entire terra out of the ground and crashed it into other terras, tearing them apart if they didn't surrender. In the end, even Atmosia had surrendered. All was lost.
Or so it had seemed.
A smile lit Aerrow's face as he remembered what they had done. The Storm Hawks had led one last attempt to stop Cyclonis. They had taken down Cyclonia, letting the flying mountain drop into the Wastelands.
They had done it. They had won! All because they, the Storm Hawks, had kept their faith and refused to give in. All because of them.
Once in every lifetime, if you do believe,
Man can move a mountain,
Change the course of history.
But they had one last mission. Master Cyclonis had escaped into the far side of Atmos. It was the Storm Hawks' duty to go after her.
Now, here before them was a new world they could all explore. Aerrow stared out at the lighted peaks rising before him, the valley floor with its glittering river running below him, and screeching beasts circling the peaks. He smiled. "This is gonna be fun!"
How far we've come,
So far from home.
Author's Notes: Like it? Hate it? Let me know!
