Disclaimer: Storm Hawks belongs to Asaph Fipke and Nerd Corps Entertainment. I am not them.

Author's Note: I apologize for my long, long, long hiatus away from the Storm Hawks fandom. I wanted to write this story much earlier, but real life and writer's block conspired against me. But I won't let them get the better of me, any longer! So here it is, at long last, the first chapter of my From the Ashes prequel. So for those of you who have read FtA, I hope you enjoy. For those of you who haven't read it, yet, I recommend you go do that, now. While it's not necessary, I think you'll enjoy it more if you do.

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No place on Atmos could rival the beauty of Terra Hazen on a spring day; the sun casting its golden glow over the land, its warmth tempered by the cool breeze. The air perfumed with blossoming trees and freshly tilled earth. There was nothing like it.

According to Kestrel.

Typhon preferred the raging storms and obsidian spires of Cyclonia, the way the red sky glowed as lightning tore across it. He wasn't much of a poet, but he had tried to compare her eyes to that sky, once, thinking she'd find it romantic. Instead, she had laughed and looked away, embarrassed.

She was always so self-conscious about her eyes. He could never understand it.

He stood behind her, now, one of his hands covering those eyes, his other gently resting on her shoulder as he guided her to the middle of the governor's private garden. He took his hand away, grinning as he anticipated her reaction.

She gasped, turning in a complete circle as she took in the view. It was a huge garden, encased within an elaborate, environmentally controlled dome. The entire structure was powered with cloaking crystals, making it impossible to view from the outside. It was an amazing feat of engineering that allowed generations of governors to horde the wondrous garden for themselves and their families, denying entrance to all others save the Master Cyclonis.

Its secrecy stirred public imagination, earning the garden almost mythical status throughout the Atmos. Over the years, hordes of conspiracy theorists had posited that it wasn't really a garden, at all, but a secret military base. Others swore that it was the control center for a defense system that put Bogaton's to shame. That theory gained quite a bit of popularity, spawning a new generation of theorists who were convinced that Hazen was the true center of the Cyclonian Empire. The palace at Cyclonia, they claimed, had been abandoned by the Imperial family years ago, and now served only as a ruse to draw potential attacks to a Cyclonis look alike, while the real thing was half a quadrant away, safe and sound.

The truth would disappoint a great many people. Though for the privileged few who had been allowed inside the dome, the garden was anything but disappointing. It was, without a doubt, the most elaborate garden and atrium in the Atmos, with flora and feathered fauna imported from every corner of the world to create a self contained paradise that was beyond compare.

Kestrel looked as if she couldn't quite believe where she was. "Is this…?"

"Yes," he answered before she could finish the question.

"How hard did you have to twist Cassius' arm to agree to this?" she teased him.

He laughed, "Cassius? It was Augusta Rae I had to beg."

It was her turn to laugh, "I can't see you begging."

"No? How do you think I got us in here, then?"

"I've heard that you're very well connected," she answered with a coy smile.

"I do have one or two high ranking officials in my back pocket."

"Do they answer to the names 'Dad' and 'Mom'?"

He scoffed. "My parents wouldn't be caught dead answering to those names. And no, I didn't ask them. I do have enough clout to be welcome here, without my father having to strong-arm Cassius."

She grinned, "I know you do. I'm just surprised the invitation extends to me, too."

He shrugged, "When I'm Cyclonis, you'll be my consort, so I don't see why you're so surprised."

He waited. It took a moment for her to register what he had just said. When she did, she smiled in anticipation.

Taking a deep breath, he dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring, willing his hands not to shake as he presented it to her. He'd faced his share of enemies in battle, but not once had he felt so nervous. "Marry me," he said, a little too forcefully, as he tried to keep his voice from quavering. He had prepared an entire speech for this moment, had practiced it dozens of times. But now, when the time had come to deliver it, he couldn't remember a word he had written.

Luckily, she didn't seem to mind.

"Yes," she said; her smile the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "I will marry you."

"Good," he grinned, standing and slipping the ring onto her finger, "because if you had said no…"

"If you're going to make a bad joke about how you would have had to kill me, I'm taking back my answer," she cut him off with a smirk.

"No, I was going to say that I'd be heartbroken for life," he frowned, feigning being offended. She rolled her eyes.

"You are a terrible liar."

"Who's lying?"

"You are, and you're terrible at it."

"You make that sound like such a bad thing."

"For you, it is."

"Do you have to sound like my father so soon after I proposed? Now I'm having second thoughts."

They stared at each other for a long moment, before bursting into laughter together. He pulled her to him, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I have a picnic set up right beyond those trees," he said, nodding towards a copse of dogwood off to the side. "That has all your favorite foods," he paused, kissing her, "and your favorite wine."

She shook her head, "I don't have a favorite wine. You know that."

"Well you do, now," he grinned, sweeping her into his arms. "Trust me. I made sure that everything here is the best of the best. You're going to love it." He leaned in for another kiss, ignoring the sound of a throat being cleared behind him.

The noise came again, more insistently this time, as he deepened the kiss, "M'lord?"

He broke the kiss only long enough to growl, "Busy now."

"M'lord, I wouldn't interrupt if it wasn't urgent," Cassius apologized.

Kestrel pulled away from him. "He's not going to go away, Typhon," she pointed out reasonably.

With a frustrated sigh, he set her down and turned to face Cassius. "What?" he snapped.

"Master Cyclonis requires your presence."

He shrugged. "Well he can wait," he said, waving the older man away.

"I'm afraid he can't."

"Why not?"

"It's not my place to say."

Typhon gripped the hilt of his sword. "What is so important that he has to interrupt me in the middle of my getting engaged," he asked through clenched teeth, staring into the other man's eyes.

"Lady Phoebe," Cassius began, before sighing and dropping the formality. He stepped forward, resting his hand on his shoulder. "Your mother passed away, Typhon. I'm sorry. Your father wanted to be the one to tell you."

Typhon took a step back, letting Cassius' hand fall back to his side. He hadn't been prepared for that news. He knew his mother was sick, but it was a recent illness, and the physician had been optimistic. "No, you had to have misheard him," he said.

Cassius shrugged helplessly, shaking his head.

Typhon looked at Kestrel. She had her hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with sympathy. For him. She reached out for him, but he started walking back towards the manor. He didn't need to be comforted. Not over a misunderstanding. Cassius hurried to catch up to him, matching his stride.

"Contact my father and tell him I'm on my way home."