Skies and Scars

Mortal Instruments / Storm Hawks

Disclaimer; I do not own any of the MI or SH characters. Anne Cusack is mine though - all mine! Well, she's a friend of mine from school who is so amazing that I just had to include her.


Foreword:

Atmos; the land of thousands of scattered mountains known as terras, each gaurded by their own Sky Knight against wild beast, rouges, super natural forces but worst of all, the Cyclonians. Master Cyclonis has opened the door to the Far Side of Atmos and has found a supernatural force much greater then her Storm Machine. The Storm Hawks led by Aerrow are ready to fight but they'll need a little help from someone a little closer to home then they may think.


Angels cry
When stars collide
I can't eat
And I can't breathe
I wouldn't want it any other way.

Intentions that were pure have turned obscure
Seconds into hours, minutes into years.

- Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Angels Cry.


1. Origins

Thunder cracked in the skies, waking the infant red headed boy. His green eyes snapped open as white light broke into his room through the opened window. Rain and wind poured into his tiny room as the storm raged on through the night. Leaves from the tree outside his window had blown in; scattered across the floor and rustling in the draft.

"Aunty!" he called, gathering his blanket up over his head. Although he was only two and a half, his understanding of calling a name for attention was evident. He did it often. An elderly lady with fading grey hair came into the room with a shawl over her shoulders. Smiling at her adopted nephew, she closed the window with a soft thud; the howlling wind knocking against the wooden boards. Sitting on the chair beside his cot and placed a fuel crystal into the fuel lamp next to his bed - allowing the light to flow into the room with golden warmness.

"Are you scared of a little storm Aerrow?" she asked fondly, rocking bacl and forth in the rocking chair.

He shook his head, "I heard crying Aunty."

"It must be a dream sweety," she cooed. "Just a bad dream."

"No Aunty! No dream! No dream!" he panted, pointing at the clanging boards. "There's someone crying outside. I promise!"

"You know I don't like lying Aerrow," she said, her voice growing impatiant. The wind died down for a second, allowing the small whisper of a crying child.

See Aunty, I told you - I told you!" he said, jumping over his barrier onto the floor. His fleecy pyjamas fluttered in the wind making goose bumps rise up on his arms and legs. The old woman sat up from her chair and walked over the shaking window. As she unhatched the frame, the two wooden doors flung open; allowing the raging storm to flow freely into the room. Her greying hair stung her face as she looked down and around the outside of her cottage's window.

"Aerrow, help me look," she said, pulling him up to the window. Rain wet their faces and blurred their vision.

"There Aunty; look, look!" he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His small chubby finger pointed to the front door of their cottage. The light crystal that normally lit the front porch laid in pieces beside the doorway - the shattered parts still glowing a soft gold on the floor. The humble light lit up a sewn cane basket that held wrapped up blankets.

"Go wake your Uncle, quickly," she ordered, closing the window and gathering her nightgown before running down to the front door. The small boy ran off to the master bedroom, calling for his uncle. She reached the front door before Aerrow made it to her husband, the wood work almost thrown off its hinges from the battling wind as she opened the door. At her feet was the small basket with blue blankets. Muffled breathing and crying came from the think fold. The rain had made droplets cling to the soft fabric and wind had baffled the outer layers. Picking the bundle up, she managed to shut the door behind her and walk closer to the burnt out fire.

"Darla, what is it?" came a gruff voice from the hall. "Has the storm broken the fence again? I'll fix it in the morning." An elderly man came into the room with Aerrow at his feet. Much like his wife, his hair was white but balding around the top. His frown buried deep down into his forehead; as if he was angry all the time.

"No, it's a baby," she said softly, unwrapping the blue fabric with tender hands. A small white face met hers, the eyes shut lightly. Wisps of honey brown hair brushed her fingers as she stroked the cold face, its red cheeks lacking the warmth of blood.

"Get the fire crystals boy!" the old man commanded, sitting beside his wife. The small red headed boy ran into the next room and found the crystal box. Holding the warm red stones in his hand, he came back into the main room as his two relatives looked down at the baby in their arms. Placing them in the fireplace, he stacked little pieces of wood on top of them. Suddenly, they burst into flames as the crystals took into effect and flooded the room with warm light. He looked up to his carers, their faces perplexed as they studied the little child in the blankets. Darla picked up the stone that hanged loosely around the baby's neck. It was a plain white stone, cold and hard to touch but soft and warm to look at. Strange etchings marked their way across the surface like scars on skin. They seemed darkly dangerous yet so beautiful.

"Oh Graham, she's gorgeous. Whatever will we do with her?" Darla pleaded, staring up at her husband.

"We'll have to take care of her. For now of course. Until we find her parents or a better home," Graham breathed. His wife tenderly stroked the baby girl's cheek as warmth began to return to her skin. "Just count ourselves lucky you found her when you did."

"I didn't notice her. Aerrow did. He heard her crying, didn't you Aerrow?" she said, looking at the red-headed boy by the fire. He quickly nodded, trying to see the face beneath the blankets.

"Crying?" his uncle repeated. "That's impossible. Her cheeks aren't even wet; she's fast asleep."

"It doesn't matter, as long as we're all safe. Would you like to see her Aerrow? Would you like to hold your new baby cousin?" Darla invited, extending the bundle towards him. Taking a shaking step forward, the infant took the light blankets into his arms. The little girl opened her eyes and looked up into his eyes with a fierce blue stare.

"She's awake. Anne's awake," he smiled, showing his little teeth.

"Anne. What a lovely name, did you come up with that yourself Aerrow?" Darla grinned back. He nodded again, this time more gently as he hugged the baby in his arms.

"Anne and Aerrow… What trouble have we gotten ourselves into this time darling?" Graham huffed, frowning even deeper at his smiling wife.


- Ten Years Later -

"You'll never catch me!" the boy laughed running to the top of the Terra as fast as his legs would carry him. His red hair whipped in the wind, golden sunshine warming him as he ran higher and higher up the hill. The Terra was relatively small, only a kilometre in diameter and the highest point was one hundred metres from the bottom. At the highest point (the boy's final destination) was a single tree with a simple wooden swing hanging from the branches.

"Unfair, you cheated!" yelled a girl, her legs also going as fast as they could. She, unlike her red-headed friend, had long flowing blonde curls tied up in a bun and soft blue eyes like the sky. Her skirt flounced around her knees as she spurted more energy into the last couple of metres of their race. Around her neck, the white stone bounced up and down her chest. Over taking the boy, she collapsed onto the swing with a triumphant giggle.

"I won, I won, I won!" she chanted, sitting up properly on the seat.

"Whatever, I'll push you," he shrugged, pushing lightly on the ropes.

"Radarr!" the girl called, holding on tightly to the seat as she was pushed into the air. A small rabbit like creature with blue fur jumped up on to her lap as she came forward. The boy's strength faltered, the swing falling back on him as Radarr's weight added onto the load.

"Oh no! Aerrow! Are you okay? I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she said, skidding the swing to a stop. Radarr leapt off her lap and scurried to the boy's side, sniffing his hair for any sign of blood. Panting, she knelt on the other side of her friend. Shaking his shoulder, she called his name over and over again until his eyes fluttered open.

"Gotcha," he said weakly, sitting up. He was pushed back to the ground by the girl as she stormed off to the grass in the sun away from the tree. She sat down and looked out across the Atmos, beyond her home Terra to the peaking Atmosia in the furthest distance along the horizon. Aerrow sat up, his head dizzy, before standing up and walking over to his friend. As he sat down and looked out to the setting sun, he heard her sniffle.

"Are you crying?" he asked, mockingly. Briskly wiping away the tears with her sleave, she frowned at him.

"Are you really leaving the Terra?" she cried, not looking at him as he stared at her.

"What makes you think that?" he snuffed.

"I heard you talking to the delivery man, the one who comes every week with supplies, I heard you asking him for some spare parts for your skimmer. I know why you're building it… You're going to leave."

"Cusey!" he spluttered.

"Don't call me that," she snapped. "You know I hate that nickname."

"Sorry Anne. But I'm almost thirteen, I need to leave the Terra. I need adventure, I want to become a Sky Knight - you know that. How am I supposed to become a legendary Sky Knight like the Red Eagles on a Terra like Terra Gardinia? Aunty and Uncle will understand, even if they don't agree…"

"Darla and Graham won't let you leave, no matter how understanding they may be. They're your Aunty and Uncle for Atmos's sake, practically your own Mum and Dad," she said, watching his face grow gloomy. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned them."

"It's not you're fault their dead. It's Cyclonia's fault," he mumbled quietly. "That's why I want to become a Sky Knight. I want to see Cyclonia burn like they burnt my home."

"This is your home Aerrow. Me, you, Radarr, Aunty Darla and Uncle Graham. Just us. Cyclonia can never bother us, no even knows this place exists it's so small. We'll be safe," she pleaded. Radarr snuggled between them, trying to absorb the last of the sun. Tears grew up behind her eyes as he didn't look back at her. Aerrow had been like a brother to her for the last ten years, both growing up together on the tiny isolated Terra Gardinia with Aerrow's Uncle and Aunty. The only other two people she knew was Radarr, Aerrow's half rabbit/coyote friend, and the delivery man, Sheldon, who came very week with food, news and other supplies from the main Terra, Atmosia. She couldn't lose him, no matter how selfish it was. Deep down, she knew he was right though. His thirteenth birthday was in a month or so and he could be old enough to join a training school or college in the inner Terra's. A small pit grew deeper in her stomach, today was her birthday. Her tenth birthday. Except, it wasn't her real birthday - it was the day the Cusack's found her. The night Darla and Graham Cusack took her in to their home. And now, she was Anne Cusack.

"What's that noise?" asked Aerrow, breaking the concentration and silence between them.

"What noise?"

"It's like... a humming sound?" he said, standing up. He looked over the horizen, searching for the origin of the sound, "There!"

"Where..." Anne mumbled, her eyes focusing on the distant approaching objects. "Oh no."

"Cyclonians," Aerrow said dryly, his green eyes flaring up in the setting sun.