A/N: Welcome to the official start to Histories Part 2! Hope you enjoy!
Oh, and before I forget, I would like to thank maniax for their review. Unfortunately, they weren't logged in and I couldn't thank them personally. And also thanks to Pascy, 21, WishfulTrance and Amber Pegasus for their lovely reviews. I'm overwhelmed that I got 5 reviews just for the prologue. Love you all.
-pixie.
.:':. .:':. .:':.
Hunched furtively over the table, Aerrow scribbled a few more notes into his battle strategy log. The long days had taken a toll – he couldn't even remember the last time he had slept well, with the dark bags under his eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks betraying his state.
Meticulously constructing an elaborate drawing of a tactical assault, he stuck his tongue out in concentration and constantly referred to the map of the known Atmos embedded in the table. Little red pin-flags dotted the entire surface of his workspace. The picture was almost perfect – he had never paid this much attention to a diagram's more intricate details before. His concentration wandered as he began to doodle idly, drawing miniaturised skimmers with even tinier Sky Knights astride them. With great suddenness, sprung out of nowhere, he angrily crossed out the drawing, the lead tip snapping from the pressure. It wasn't good enough.In his sudden fit he tossed the pencil into the bin along with its other broken companions. He gave a frustrated sigh and burrowed his head in his hands, heedless of the pin-flags still clutched in his fists.
Quiet footsteps echoed in the bridge. "Aerrow, you really should get some rest. You've been at this for days! We were only trying to get you over whatever happened on that terra, because you were just moping around and not helping the squad–"
"So?" he snapped irritably, gesturing to the swamp of red flags and battle notes strewn across the table. "I'm helping you now."
She stomped her foot, exasperated with her uncooperative leader. "That's not what I meant! When's the last time you ate, or slept, or even–" she held her nose at this point,"–had a shower?" She poked him in the ribs. "You're wasting away, Aerrow."
He sighed, dropping the pin-flags and turning haunted eyes to Piper. "With good reason," he whispered, and poured out the entire story. He felt bad while he was doing it, as if he had somehow betrayed the Dark Ace. He tried reasoning with himself – after all, he had never promised he wouldn't tell anyone, and this was the man that was responsible for the death of his parents. Piper took it surprisingly well, not even interrupting once – though he could see the millions of questions that raced through her mind. When he had finally finished talking, he felt as if a weight the size of the Atmos had fallen off his shoulders, but her questions would have to wait. They had somehow made their way onto the couch during the conversation, and, once finished with his tale, Aerrow realised how comfortable the cushions really were and promptly fell asleep.