Chapter one: I am a prisoner in my own country.
It was different. To see a new flag waving over Cyclonia, but only for a few moments. We were led down into our own dungeons, the captive sky knights jeering at us for all the hatred we had shared when they were on the other side of those bars. My comrades were led away, and I was shoved into a cell. As my head met the stone floor, my helmet cracked in two, and with a gasp my deep ember red hair unwove and fell to the tops of my shoulders. The knights gasped as well, not expecting me to be a girl. I did not care, my forehead beginning to bleed from the helmets force on my skull. I kicked the helmet away to crack some more on the wall of my confinement. The cut was not deep at all, and stopped its trickle soon enough. But it stung. Stung bad. But the sting of defeat almost made this injury painless. The rest of my emblems were ripped off, and I threw my goggles off to hurl them out the small hole of a window, letting my brown eyes, another symbol of individuality they had taken from us, adjust to the dim light.
Days passed, and I did dare not meet the eyes of the Atmosian knights, keeping my own ones tipped to look out of the small window above me. It did not show much, but I knew where I was. A walkway ran below me, with a railing to prevent anyone from falling. Off in the distance, I could make out the form of the main tower of Cyclonia- or what was Cyclonia. The flagstaff, which my comrades and I had pledged to every morning under the piercing stare of our officer Ravess, no longer held the importance. Its flag was gone. Now flying proudly, triumphantly, almost in an obnoxious boastful way, was the flag of Atmosia. Under it was another. A new symbol, one I had never seen now fluttered in the crisp breeze. It was of a silver bird, its wings outstretched as if to soar. Although unknown, it was familiar. There were artifacts from a historical takeover made by the Dark Ace hanging in the corridors that resembled that flag. I remembered it now.
It was the flag of the Storm Hawks.
Still more days passed, and even if we knew we had been defeated, my comrades still shouted loyalty to Master Cyclonis. The promise of my loyalty was wearing thin, crushed by our defeat. Their shouts rang through the cells, and Sky Knights shouted back. One of my closest comrades, close enough to be called a friend, bellowed the motto of Cyclonia loud and proud. Another knight jeered back:
"Where's your master now, eh? Run off, I think. But you're still loyal eh? Too bad." His accent shone through before a grunt was heard, and I knew my friend had been kicked. I hoped Dunlin would swallow his pride soon.
"Of course, Aerrow. We'll find them soon. Some of the Burners recalled seeing them at the main tower." A woman's voice reached me, and my instinct was to peer over the sill and listen. Two people were walking along the walkway, the clouds billowing beneath them. The woman, or young woman, was dark-skinned and slender. Her navy hair was pronounced, framing her face. Her eyes, some exotic orange, were locked on the young man she was walking with. Her battle weapon was still gripped tightly in her hand.
"I would like to find them today. It was all anyone found. And it's here in Cyclonia." The male sighed, his red hair disheveled and messy. Aerrow...That was what the girl called him. His light skin contrasted sharply with hers, and his stronger build made her seem fragile to him. But what made me stop my analysis were his eyes. The glorious green color suited him so very well, giving him a character no one else could even come close to having. And the way they rested on his walking partner...oh I just knew what was happening. Dunlin's grey eyes did the same thing. "Piper," That was the young woman's name. "I can't believe..."
"It's over? Yeah, I know." The girl Piper said weakly to him. They disappeared around the corner, remaining silent for the rest of the winding walk. My excitement for the day was over, and I slouched against the wall. Who were they? Some Sky Knights, I guessed. But the symbols on their backs and armor made me think otherwise. Those two were part of the Storm Hawks. The new ones. I smiled dimly, recalling how rumor had spread about the Dark Ace's defeat by the Knight of that team. Then something hit me. That red haired teen...Aerrow. Was he the one who defeated our 'commander in chief'? But I had no way to know, for that short conversation had held nothing but titles.
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Alrighty! I got some new idea, and haven't tried this style of writing... you know, first person POV. But this is a short chapter, whose main character will not be revealed for a long time.