Disclaimer: I do not own Storm Hawks or the song "The Voice".
Storm Hawks—The Voice
By WhispertheWolf
Aerrow sat in the entrance of the cave which he had made into his temporary abode. He hadn't eaten in days and his stomach continued to complain. He sighed. Only seven years old and already on his own. Perhaps he should have stayed at the orphanage. Yet every time he thought of going back, he shivered at the very idea. The people there had been cruel to him before. Imagine their scorn for him if he returned after trying to run away.
Aerrow knew there were good things and good people out there in the world. He'd seen them. But he didn't see them near often enough. Everywhere he turned there was a challenge, a barrier, or a cruelty that the world had decided to test him with.
Aerrow would have been happy if troubles stopped plaguing him, but mostly he wished he had a friend. The only company with him now were Hunger, Thirst, and every now and then, Cold.
Wait what was that? A voice but from where? Aerrow turned this way and that. The wind blew into the tunnel. There it was again. "Aerrow."
I hear your voice on the wind,
And I hear you call out my name.
Aerrow was frightened. He glanced around the cave, but he saw nothing. "Where… where are you?" he asked. "What do you want with me?"
Then the voice spoke again.
"Listen my child," you say to me.
"I am the Voice of your history.
Be not afraid; come follow me.
Answer my call and I'll set you free."
Aerrow didn't know what to think. Set free? Free from his troubles? Free of his loneliness? No one ever cared about him before. Who was this voice that offered hope? "Who are you?" he asked.
"I am the Voice in the wind and the pouring rain.
I am the Voice of your hunger and pain.
I am the Voice that always is calling you.
I am the Voice; I will remain."
"What?" Aerrow asked aloud, still anxious and bewildered. "What do you mean?"
"I am the Voice in the fields when the summer's gone,
The dance of the leaves when the autumn winds blow,
Ne'er do I sleep throughout all the cold winter long.
I am the force that in springtime will grow.
"I ask for your help, Aerrow. Listen closely.
"I am the Voice of the past that will always be,
Filled with my sorrow and blood in my fields.
"I want no more of such destruction. I want something better, but I need you to bring it about.
"I am the Voice of the future.
Bring me your peace.
Bring me your peace and my wounds, they will heal.
"Bring peace, Aerrow. Finish the mission your father started."
Aerrow's eyes widened. "My father?"
"Your father, Sky Knight of the Storm Hawks."
Aerrow's jaw dropped. "What? Tell me more! I need to know more! Where are you? Please talk to me."
But the Voice was fading.
"I am the Voice in the wind and the pouring rain.
I am the Voice of your hunger and pain.
I am the Voice that always is calling you.
I am the Voice."
"Don't go!" Aerrow cried in desperation. "How am I supposed to become a Sky Knight? How can I possibly bring peace? I can't change the world. I need help!"
"I am the Voice of the past that will always be.
I am the Voice of your hunger and pain.
I am the Voice of the future.
I am the Voice.
"I am the Voice of the Guardians," the Voice called as it grew fainter. "The Guardians of the Atmos.
"I am the Voice."
Gradually, the Voice was growing dimmer and dimmer. "No, please!" Aerrow cried. "Don't leave me!"
"I am the Voice."
Aerrow didn't know what had happened or whether it was even real. But he knew that nothing would ever be the same for him. If he was to listen to the Voice and make a push for peace, than his life would be altered forever and maybe for the better. But was it possible? And was it worth struggling to achieve something that was commanded of him by something he may have imagined?
A cry on the wind gave him his answer.
"I am the Voice."
Then… silence.
Author's Notes: Well, do you like? Hate? Please review and let me know!
