A/N: Thank you again, everyone for reading and favoriting/following and for the reviews! I've read them periodically as I've been going through this chapter giving it the a glance over before publishing and I had it done a little earlier this time!
Sorry, guys, I think these chapters are getting longer as I attempt to edit...I swear they were all approximately the same as I originally wrote these and somewhere along the line they've evolved into these colossal chapters. I don't think you guys will mind all that much, but just in case you do...oops.
Enjoy the newest chapter everyone! Beware of Aerrow's bias, remember these thoughts are solely his. Precision is not accuracy - quoted by my Chem Lab Professor.
RESTORATION CYCLONIA
Chapter 3
"Aerrow's Arrangements"
Every second was spent, wasting away, buried deep within the catacombs of the Cyclonian prison. The time ticked by in hours, then days, then months until the rebel prisoners, the ones that tried to seek freedom after their capture, were merely breathing for the sake of breathing. No sunlight could penetrate the rooms below, leaving all the prisoners to the slow, painful decay. Their skin had grown pale over time; their eyes sunken in. But worse, their hopes dashed, destroyed as clearly as their terras had been. They were nothing more than the tattered ruins of a once thriving society, where they had been able to roam the skies. It almost hurt to think of a time when that had been the reality and this had not.
Aerrow was the only Sky Knight present amongst the once crowds of war prisoners. He'd seen where all the other Sky Knights had gone. Each thrown into the wastelands below, hauled off unceremoniously, to work in the mines for the Wallops. Another peace treaty as made by the evil empress, Master Cyclonis, herself. It had liberated Atmos to rogues, beasts, and all other sorts of horrors, but benefited the Cyclonian rule regardless. All Atmos' Sky Knights reeled around on chains, forced into separate arenas of work. That seemed to be exactly how Master Cyclonis wanted things; her way, without any concern for the people she affected. That was exactly how Aerrow angled the situation, finding no other reason for her ultimate rule. Master Cyclonis lived up to her name, a violent storm that swept away anyone who dare stand against her.
Aerrow might have felt bad for his fellow Sky Knights working somewhere below ground, but his punishment was more severe. He had ten times less freedom than they had. Now he was stuck here with the remainder of the teams, the members that hadn't been sold off to the highest bidder and forgotten in the dark. He couldn't help but think about his own squadron, Finn and Stork were among the Murk Raiders, thankfully. Their run in with them was simply luck in the making. Finn was on the ship at the time of the invasion. He was certainly handed over simply because Cyclonis had no idea she was missing a Storm Hawk. It was Stork who had been negotiated since Finn was hiding in the background.
Junko though…He had spent some time in here with Aerrow, serving his sentence of involving himself with the Sky Knights and aiding Aerrow on a failed escape attempt. Aerrow missed their late night discussions, pulling Junko from outside of his quiet demeanor and keeping them both held together while he could. The two had held conversations about simple, little things. After their initial plans to leave failed, the warden was so angered, he dragged the rebellious war prisoners to the basement cells. Fleeting thoughts of pain and devastation compounded. Therefore, everything that went back and forth between them was light-hearted and didn't require tons of thought. Things such as Finn and Stork potentially making it as pirates and looting the Cyclonian ships that soared by, to things that they liked to do on their off time, or inventions that they wished were made. Neither of them spoke about Raadar or Piper. Both subjects were unknown; both subjects were too painful.
Now that Aerrow didn't have the support of Junko, his thoughts grew darker with each passing day. He remembered too much for someone his age.
When Aerrow had been released from the dreadful crystal prison, he hadn't stopped shivering. The cold had lingered, had caked his skin, now experiencing feeling once again, and had hated him for it. His senses kicked to life, pouring over him in a clash of pandemonium. He had been confused, so horribly confused from the brilliant array of colors where there had once been black, the clammer of workers where there had once been silence, the smell of engine fuel and sweat where there had once been nothing. The unsettling breeze had brushed up against his exposed skin. It had caused him to flinch back unused to being outside of his own head, no longer frozen in a state of restlessness.
He had stared up, his eyes meeting Cyclonis' simmering coals and then Dark Ace's blood red orbs. He had been weak and could barely walk, but he had still sneered in their direction. His anger had bubbled over his skin afresh. Dark Ace had made a move forward, but Cyclonis had stopped him, ignoring the hatred that flew between the two men, filling the atmosphere with static electricity. Dark Ace had wanted him separate, locked away forever.
It was only Junko and himself that had been carried out that day. And soon Junko, thanks to the prolonged treaty with the Wallops, was released from this hellhole. Now, only Aerrow remained.
The doors swished open. Footsteps echoed as the warden walked through the threshold, eyes searching.
Aerrow, like the the other prisoners, drew back, plastering himself against the wall as the warden walked in. He wasn't necessarily scared of Mr. Moss. He'd handled this guy before and his men weren't exactly the brightest nor the strongest of troops. But all the same, they were the sort to find pleasure in other's pain. They didn't mind picking someone out of the crowd as an example. It didn't take much either for them to choose who they should pull out and whip that day. Any sign of resistance, any indication that someone didn't care about Mr. Moss' presence was hauled out of their cells and slapped with the weapon in his hands a few times while his men cheered him on.
Learning quickly, Aerrow had begun to retract right away when Mr. Moss entered. It was so repetitive a motion that Mr. Moss no longer thought him any different from the other warriors. He was just one of the faces in the crowd, labeled as nothing more than a 'Storm Hawk' and that was exactly how Aerrow preferred it.
The warden stepped close to the cell next to Aerrow's. A member of the Rebel Ducks withdrew more, showing no signs of aggression. A smile crossed Mr. Moss' face as he watched the man stare down at the ground, humbly and silently begging not to be the next victim.
The blows never came. Mr. Moss pressed on, stopping at Aerrow's prison cell and grabbing one of the bars. "It's been a while hasn't it, Storm Hawk?"
Aerrow glared a hole into the dirt. He didn't bother looking at the other directly in the eyes or acknowledging that he was being considered for whatever lesson Mr. Moss had decided to teach that day. Though, Aerrow was certain that he was the next on the list.
A few slices with the whip and surely Mr. Moss would have his blood-lust sated for the evening. Aerrow wouldn't fight, instead he would beg for his release, and then would fall quiet after the first couple of stings. Mr. Moss would be please, his men would laugh, and then Aerrow would be tossed back in his cell completely forgotten again. It was like clockwork down here.
Preparing himself by relaxing his shoulders, Aerrow knew that this was all unavoidable as soon as the keys clinked against the lock. He kept his eyes down, breath even and allowed himself to be picked up off the ground.
"Today's your lucky day," Mr. Moss began. His voice was all too pleasant as he mockingly patted Aerrow on the head.
Aerrow never glanced up, not once.
"Don't you want to know why today is your lucky day?"
Aerrow frowned, careful not to let it be seen. He knew what luck was down here. He knew that Mr. Moss was baiting him into some sort of plea. But he also knew that he had no need to worry about any of that. The Dark Ace had made certain that Aerrow was to be kept separately from the others, alive for now. Aerrow was certain that Dark Ace would have been much more elated to have Aerrow buried down in his prison cell somewhere where he could do the taunting and constantly wreck havoc on the young Sky Knight. Never had the Dark Ace gotten over being outwitted and outmatched by a child. Nor did Aerrow suspect he ever would be.
Mr. Moss grabbed a tuft of red hair and dragged the once Sky Knight upwards. "You've gotten yourself a buyer. Gonna work ya hard to the bone, I bet. A shame that you're too scrawny to not last for too long. But that's how things work 'round here, am I right?"
With that, Mr. Moss released his grip on Aerrow's hair, allowing the teen to fall to the ground. "Well, let's get him cleaned up and shipped out. I don't want the boss to be waiting."
Aerrow allowed the crew to pull him back up and haul him off. He dared to glance up and around once he was outside the room he'd lived in for nearly a year.
A stair well was arranged in the center of an oddly rectangular shaped room. Vents aligned the sides allowing some fresh air to mix with the stale, stagnant air found below. It was a bit more appeasing in here than in the dungeons. Aerrow smelt the first scents of leafy greenery in the place of clay and rusting metal. It was actually refreshing, despite the commotion that surrounded him.
Being taken up the stairs, Aerrow caught the last traces of his prison. He couldn't say that he was disappointed. Though, he also couldn't say he wasn't apprehensive about being moved. He had, at one point, been in the upstairs cells. Then he, Junko and a few others had taken advantage of feeding time. Their move had been a painful one, one filled with regrets. Anywhere near Mr. Moss was a dangerous place to be. The man was explosive, unpredictable, disturbed. As far as Aerrow could throw the blonde haired, heavy set man, was as far as he could trust him.
The warden was already smirking towards him. Aerrow's expression must have portrayed his inner musings. "Don't you feel lucky to be finally out of the underground dungeons?"
Aerrow bit back the question of "who's the buyer?" burning at the tip of his tongue. He swallowed the sensation in multiples, eyes scanning the area for a sign of the answer to his inquiry now buried deep within his stomach. He found nothing to show for where he was being taken. His eyes narrowed on an airship outside bearing the Cyclonian symbol.
As he tried to inspect the symbol closer and determine whether that airship was identifiable, a wet towel was thrown in his face, turning the second layer of dirt into dripping mud instantly.
When the hands loosened, Aerrow pushed off his captors and snatched the towel. After giving his skin a swipe, Aerrow threw it down on the ground.
"You still have fight in you?" laughed Mr. Moss, eyebrows rising. The others began to chuckle in the background as well, humoured by their bosses comment or perhaps merely trying to keep him pleased. Aerrow suspected the latter.
A slap on the shoulder pushed Aerrow stumbling forward. He was on the verge of catching himself when the hand was back for a second strike, throwing his center of balance completely off. That was all it took for Aerrow to find himself face first into the cement ground, groaning from the dizzying pain it caused. His eyes lost sense of focus momentarily. A headache latched onto his brain like a leech, draining him of his concentration. Another groan escaped as he was picked back up.
Rough hands pushed him forwards as Aerrow was herded into the ship bearing the talon symbol across the side of it. It was enough to make his lip curl in disdain, even stepping foot onto it, but he had a lack of options.
Half dragging the once sky knight down the halls, Mr. Moss's men pushed and prodded Aerrow into the maze of hallways onboard the large airship. Their attention more concentrated on the talons that they passed by rather than on Aerrow's figure. Aerrow noticed this immediately, however, found that even with that sort of advantage on his side, he still could do nothing about his current situation. No matter where he went, he was trapped.
He was cast into another cell, bearing a small barred widow, almost at face height. Then the men locked the cell, leaving Aerrow behind to whatever fate might await him in his new prison.
They didn't even turn back to sneer, comment, or give any other sort of acknowledge of their prisoner.
Once again, Aerrow had been forgotten.
The window had been a saving grace, a refuge that Aerrow had been denied of for so long. His arms extended up, testing the air as the clouds rolled by, moisture drenching the fabric cuffs of Aerrow's tattered sleeves. Suddenly, the young Sky Knight yearned for more of this. He wanted to recall everything that he had once forgotten. He wanted the taste of the life that he use to lead.
Standing on his tiptoes and plunging both arms outside the airship, Aerrow soaked up as much of the breeze as the moving airship would allow. He couldn't help a shudder run down his spine, nor the goose pimples along his arm from forming. This was heaven.
Aerrow's mind began to trail after dreams and hopes that he had once held dear. His young mind filled in the gaps of times that he took for granted. Time before his life had become nothing more than forgetting and remembering. The fringes of brownish red hair not soaked in gloppy mud, tickled his forehead as his arms extended out further, catching the wind beneath his fingertips. Aerrow closed his eyes, allowing nothing but this feeling to drench his mind, saturating every memory, every dream he once had. Then his arms folded in on themselves, in a parody of a hug, wrapping around the bars. He never wanted to let this go.
He remained stationary for as long as he could, becoming only aware of the sun's rays and the wind weaving into his torn sleeves. Nothing else, including the passing time, seemed to matter much any more.
"….can't dock. Not with everyone surrounding Terra Cyclonia."
Aerrow could hear the echoes down the hall. Not wanting to relinquish this new feeling he had been granted, Aerrow kept his eyes shut. However, his ears perked as the footsteps became all the louder.
"I've never seen so many ships at bay."
"Master Cyclonis invited everyone to the wedding. She wants all Atmos present for the event."
That had Aerrow's eyes open.
The sight of cloud covering and sunny skies had been blocked out by numerous rows of airships. Each were decorated with a symbol representing a different terra, a terra that Aerrow and his team fought so hard to keep out of Cyclonis' grasp. His eyes narrowed on the ships, awaiting this supposed wedding. None of them would be people he immediately recognized. All would be loyal to Master Cyclonis, either too afraid or too oblivious to go against this force of destruction. Their Sky Knights had lost after all. Aerrow, Sky Knight to all Atmos, had failed them...
"It's been like this for a week now, at least according to the commander. The Dark Ace doesn't seem all that pleased as of late about all the fuss."
He had suddenly morphed into a human sponge, soaking up the trails of information that the guards were unknowingly leaving behind them. And when that was no longer enough, Aerrow flipped around watching the men draw near his cell, walking close, but not even glancing his direction. The guards disregarded him as nothing more than furniture, speaking freely as though Aerrow no longer possessed the capability to hear. They didn't even consider him with a glance, mouths dripping crucial details that Aerrow diligently collected.
Then they were walking away.
"I wouldn't be happy with Master Cyclonis' wedding plans either. He said she only gave a week's notice."
"A week…?"
And the voice tapered off as the door slammed shut. Everything else from that point on was muffled and impossible to make out.
"Master Cyclonis is getting married?" Aerrow whispered, eyes shooting back to the outside world once more.
He could make out the noises below, the humming of skimmers in the air, zipping about, and the dull drone of voices that could only represent large multitudes. They were all down there for Master Cyclonis'…wedding?
Blinking a few times, Aerrow pressed himself up against the bars to see if he could get a peak of what was happening. His view was from high up, so it should be a decent one if he could just angle his head right.
Somewhere between the music, voices, and machinery, cannons began to fire. Their pounding echoing over the entire party and making Aerrow peek upwards at the ships presumably creating the clammer and then back to the conglomeration of people somewhere below. This event was turning into a fanfare. The next thing he would see would be the release of millions of doves or something else tragically showy.
Then the noise of the cannons grew louder.
Aerrow was about to glare at the sound once more, when a loud smack could be heard just outside his window. The floor beneath him swayed dangerously back and then forth. Aerrow's hold on the bars was the only thing that was keeping him from stumbling to the ground.
The ship rattled once more, throwing Aerrow's complete concentration off of the wedding below. There were more important matters, such as the spray of crystal dust on a nearby ship that grabbed hold of Aerrow's concentration. It seemed as though he was not the only one to want the destruction of any happiness Cyclonis might try to obtain for herself. The surrounding region of Terra Cyclonia wasn't in celebration, sending noises of proclamation. Sprays of crystal dust pounded into the side of a ship nearby. The men, tiny figures from where Aerrow was being held, poured out onto deck, readying their own firepower. Terra Cyclonia was under attack. And by the looks of it, whoever hoarded ill will of the Master had something was big to attack all the surrounding ships with.
A victorious cry rang from Aerrow's cell as he watched another explosion of lights and dust filter through the air.
Aerrow couldn't help but feel a little vindicated, not really able to get a close up glance at the attackers. It was too far to actually see them and the airships out in front were blocking a direct path, but Aerrow didn't care one way or another, his face actually lighting up at the idea that someone was nearby, ready to shut everything down on Cyclonis' little parade.
Cheering them on, Aerrow noticed that a few of the talons onboard rushed by his cage once again and he couldn't help but be filled with a little hope. Perhaps, whoever they were, they would be heading his direction. The thought was too delicious to release. He wanted to believe that something good could happen. It had been so long since he did.
Another shot rang out, hitting the larger airship in front of the one Aerrow was currently aboard, but half of the shot ricocheted off the side and knocked into Aerrow's. Without a grasp on the bars this time, Aerrow was sent scrambling backwards as the wood and metal structure rocked in the attack.
That didn't deter Aerrow from racing back over to the window, catching himself in time for the next slam of a crystal-powered projectile to the ship.
Excitement, the sort that Aerrow didn't think that he'd be able to experience again, bubbled inside of him. This was as close as he came to being freed and he could feel the pulsing of happiness swirling in him like adrenaline in what had once upon a time been so common for him. He had once lived for this, the thrill of life out on the skimmers, energy blades blazing, before Dark Ace and Master Cyclonis had uprooted that in him.
Aerrow's eyes shot across the skies, finding that the talons were starting to make their way onto the scene, their skimmers a distinctive clumpy grey mass, thick and unpainted, simple, basic. There was a frown that crossed Aerrow's face as he watched the first of the attacking crew falling out of the sky, a parachute flaring out over him.
But Aerrow didn't get to see much more, for a flash of colors splashed over his eye sight, each series aligned in a familiar form of feathers. Aerrow noticed it again, this time a little further off, enough so that he could make out the creature that had come so close to the ship.
His eyes could not believe what he was witnessing as he stared out at the lengthy wings spanning across the skies, tumbling with the tufts of low lying clouds. Never did Aerrow imagine he would see his legendary tutor, trainer of warriors, once again. The guardian's name fell off his tongue without thinking.
"Arygyn?"
Aerrow blinked multiple times, even rubbing his eyes before grabbing ahold of the bars to the tiny window once more.
"Arygyn!"
Sure enough, the multicolored spectacle was back, flapping his wings as he came nearer to Aerrow's voice. A smile curved on his beak, one that proved he had heard Aerrow's question clearly.
"Hello, Aerrow, did you miss us?"
Aerrow couldn't help but allow his lips to curl upwards, finally able to recognize a familiar face on the outside. "Us? I thought you and the other guardians were leaving for good."
"Well…I guess I should have mentioned that they are vicariously with us and not actually with us. It's really just you and me, kid."
That didn't discourage Aerrow's happiness in the least. He couldn't have cared as long as he had one ally on his side.
"But you came back?"
"Oh, I don't do well with so many clouded over rules and regulations, you know. You can really lose your flair if you let tradition get ahold of you and carry you away." This was all stated with a wink. Aerrow was far too elated by the appearance of the guardian to even be paying the explanation too much heed. Finally, after waiting so long in Mr. Moss' cell, he was ready for some escape and retribution. Surely, that was the reason why Arygyn was here.
Arygyn glanced away before slipping from view once more.
Aerrow's lips spun downwards as he tried to find his friend. The small window was just tall enough to not allow him to see very far. He waited a bit impatiently for Arygyn to show back up. However, the airship rattled once more, a flash of red glittering dust jutting out from the wreckage.
Aerrow caught only a glimpse of what hit them, tripping backwards and landing on his backside. He grunted, hopping back up and returning to the window once more. His eyes scanned the skies. This time in place of seeing Arygon, Aerrow saw a bulky airship with familiar skull with sharp fangs strapped to the ship's bow in the distance. The feature was so identifiable that Aerrow was practically ear to ear in smiles. First, Arygyn was there…somewhere, but most definitely with him. Now, he was amongst attacking Murk Raiders, who for all Aerrow knew were holding Finn and Stork.
The year long feeling of desperation and dread dimmed in the light of the new hope.
"There we go," came the jovial voice of Arygyn from behind Aerrow's spot at the window. It was no longer on the outside.
Aerrow spun around to face the interior of the ship in surprise. The guardian, now in human form, brushed himself off lazily, strolling up to the bars and leaning against them. He flicked the cylindrical metal rods with his finger. "Well, this wasn't something we were expecting either. Wait until everyone back home hears about how this is all turning out. They're never going to believe it."
That had Aerrow trying to retain his composure a bit. According to Aerrow, Arygyn's words were a smudge insensitive after the year he had been through. He didn't want to be rude and bring back his experience, so he held his tongue. Ignoring the issue was by far the better choice. All that mattered was that he had help now and that help was going to turn this whole mess around for good. Aerrow didn't have to go back to darkness and bars. He'd be a free man as soon as Arygyn unlocked his pad and gave access to escape.
"Arygyn," began Aerrow, reworking a plan in his mind. They'd need to get out smoothly and quietly. With all the noise the Murk Raiders were causing in the skies, they were pretty much free as soon as Arygyn found the key. "The engine room can't be too far away from here. If you could grab two of the engine crystals and try to spark them near the lock-"
"Hold on, hold on there," Arygyn replied, waving his hands back and forth in a showy manner. He was still smiling, but it was dimmer than before. His eyes were no longer sparkling with that age old mischief that hid behind the sapphire irises. Aerrow's excitement started to dull likewise, confusion seeping in at the sound of resistance. "You know how I work. I can't rearrange how destiny runs her course. That's your job."
That left the redhead completely dumbfounded. His mouth tried to operate once again, working through the basic syllables and trying to figure out his jaw's muscles. "But you…you couldn't have come all this way… You were going to look out for me…You were going to make sure that I could complete the prophecy. You already told me that I was the one destined to bring peace to Atmos. I can't do that moving from jail to jail."
The more Aerrow spoke, the more he couldn't hold back the irritation from his voice. Right now, he truly needed the aid of the famous warrior trainer for one simple solitary task and Arygyn was excusing himself from doing it. Aerrow wasn't the one to second guess the strange ways of the guardian after the results from their first meeting, but this was a matter that he had no control over. The last battles Aerrow had been prepared for, given words of caution in order to win. There was no chance that he could defeat the Cyclonians and restore harmony in Atmos locked behind iron bars.
"I'm certain you are the one, Aerrow, but right now it looks as though you're needed here."
That was enough to frustrate Aerrow to the point of anger. Biting back as much repressed ire as humanly possible, Aerrow gritted his teeth together. "You don't get it. I'm being shipped off and sold-"
"To the Dark Ace according to the guards," finished Arygyn with hesitance.
Taken fully off guard, Aerrow didn't know how to react. His mind temporarily went blank, allowing raw emotion build up inside. It had been pent away for so long, the anguish, the torment. He'd lived a life of war, starting from a child when his father hadn't shown up back home. Lightening Strike never meant to let his son become involved Aerrow had realized.
Locked behind bars, chained to the Cyclonian empire, this was why Lightening Strike had hid his son from all his ongoings. He didn't want this, this pain to happen to the last remnants of their family. Aerrow hadn't lived up to his father's expectations. He rebuilt the Storm Hawks only to fail miserably, tripping at the proverbial finish line. This wasn't meant to be. His life was meant to be more than this.
"The Dark Ace! You can't be serious!" Aerrow was no longer in control of his raging emotions. They were flying everywhere, off the charts in all directions. There was no more repression.
"Aerrow, calm down-"
"You're not the one being sold off to your worst nightmare! How can I possibly stay calm? How do you think I can handle this? You have no idea what he's going to do! All that talk about me no longer being in the future of Atmos, you're about to allow that to really exist unless you let me out!"
Arygyn was no longer flaunting his colorful self around. There was no trace of a smile left on his face as Aerrow breathed in and out harshly. And for whatever horrible, twisted reason that relentlessly burrowing inside Aerrow's heart, he was glad that Arygyn was no longer making light of the circumstances by speaking carelessly or strutting around freely. He was glad to have gained the other's attention completely and utterly, even if he had shown the trainer a side of total frustration that very few had ever, ever seen. He'd buried his hurt inside for so long...It was never suppose to come up like this.
"I can't do that," Arygyn stated in a soft, serious tone. His eyes burned straight through Aerrow's own, saying everything and nothing at the same time.
Aerrow pulled sharply away from the bars. His jerky motions almost reckless as his frown deepened. He couldn't stomach to look at the guardian any longer. Just as he suspected, there was no hope that rested with him. He'd have to wait for Finn and Stork if he was going to be free. His mind began to jog over the countless promises made to him over the years. All the people that said they wouldn't let him down and did.
His father was a good starting point.
The man named Lightening Strike happily twirled Aerrow's four year old form around in the air, mimicking a skimmer. Aerrow happily provided the dialogue. "Don't worry, I'm a sky knight and that means I'm the hero coming to save the day, Atmos!"
His father laughed loudly before pulling his son in for a landing and hugging the prone form to his chest. "You already sound like me, too."
Then a raven haired teen staggered into the room, a member bearing the Storm Hawk symbol and a face that Aerrow would not be able to place after years and years of growing up. The teen was a mess, eyes frantically searching, landing on Lightening Strike, Aerrow and then bouncing around the room some more as if he were trying to orient himself.
"We…we…"
Lightening Strike set down his son, patting Aerrow on the head. He took a step closer to the older boy, showing concern. The raven haired youth pulled away twice as fast. "We...are leaving."
"Dad," called the tentative Aerrow, understanding that this "leaving" meant a month or so of no return. He'd be watched by the neighbors, a children's home for those fighting in the war and located close by. It did mean that he would be reunited with his best friend, a little orphaned blue haired girl, who giggled far too much and convinced him help her dig for crystals all the time. But, Aerrow already hadn't seen his father in so long. He didn't want to leave home again.
Lightening Strike bent down and rested a hand on his son's shoulder, his emerald eyes boring into Aerrow's jade ones. "This is going to be an easy mission, you'll see. Don't you worry because I'll be back soon, I promise."
A promise that had never come to pass.
"Just like the promise the oracle made," whispered the sixteen year old Aerrow, mind so far away, so long ago. Yet, he was still standing in the dim light of the Talon ship, being hauled off, into his enemy's clutches.
Arygyn must have heard because he was quick to request that Aerrow explain himself. "The oracle? The oracle said something to you?"
Nodding, Aerrow decided not to elaborate. He didn't want to remember how she had showed him a horrifying future and then promised it would not turn out that way. She promised to interfere so that Aerrow had the upper hand in the war as long as he freed her. There was nothing but shattered dreams of that now. It had all been a farce.
"Then you have more working on your side than against you," tried the guardian.
Aerrow shook his head in disgust and rolled his eyes, still facing away from Arygyn. He didn't much feel like talking any longer. There was no point in it. Arygyn had only brought more bad news than good.
"Aerrow," Arygyn said. His voice was flat, empty. "I know you don't believe me when I say this, but things will work out the way they were always suppose to. I've lived long enough to know that everything works itself out in due time."
Head drooping low, Aerrow watched his feet for a moment as if they were the most curious things he'd ever seen. He didn't want to face Arygyn right now. His emotions were too raw, too unpredictable to keep at bay. He felt broken inside. A part of him torn, completely cracked down the center. The fragile naivety that Aerrow exhibited had all but worn away, leaving the rough hardened surface exposed from all the weathering.
There was a calamity outside, causing Aerrow's eyes to snap from his feet to the window. He stared out, watching as the Talons, hordes of them, flew through the skies, their weapons drawn and their canons loaded.
The Murk Raiders, who had been creating all the fuss, seemed to be happy with their load from the nearby ships. The Blood Crow went sailing off, blurred by the legions of Cyclonis' troops that flanked the remaining ships.
Aerrow's own airship hadn't even been touched, outside of the series residual blasts that went astray. It was then that Aerrow realized Finn and Stork would not be saving him this day. They were now on the move, presumably back to Terra Deep where they could never be overrun.
Spinning around, Aerrow turned to say something, anything to Arygyn to make him change his mind. The guardian had to be persuaded to do the right thing. He couldn't leave Aerrow trapped here, sold off to the wrong hands. It would be a devastation to both of them. He had to make Arygyn see that the Dark Ace would kill him as soon as he could get his hands around Aerrow's throat.
But no one was behind him.
Just as quickly as hope flew in, did it fly out. Aerrow would be facing fate alone as he had always done, left in her cruel claws.
Trying to hold himself together, Aerrow pressed his back up against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the ground. His eyes remained clear, void. Carefully, his mind returned to a numbing state, disregarding everything that had just happened.
He was not going to be going anywhere, not for a while.
And so he sat for what seemed like eternity, with nothing to do but stare and preserve his mind. He didn't even know when the shadows from the tiny window began to move, shifting ever so slightly.
"Let me through," hissed a voice from down the hall. The thick, angry, deep tone was enough to snap Aerrow back into a thinking state. His mind didn't have to search far for an answer to who's voice that was. He had that voice on speed dial recognition, trained and readied for the potential of danger that it ebbed in it's wake.
Aerrow stood up. He would not be sitting when he came face to face with the Dark Ace. He would not be caught off guard if this were going to be his last stand. He'd give the man a run for his money as best as he could at the moment, even if he perished in the meanwhile. He lived like a Storm Hawk; he'd die like a Storm Hawk.
Soon a raven haired man walked into the room, crimson eyes staring straight at Aerrow, glancing over the dirty rags and muddy skin. "You look well," taunted Dark Ace with an almost amusement. "I can see that Mr. Moss has kept up his care of the prisoners, as I expected."
There was no need for chitchat. Aerrow would rather just get to the point and find out why he was here. He just could not let it slip that Arygyn had given him information he wasn't supposed to know. Though, the guards were a tad gossipy for their own good. Arygyn probably found out on his way here through them anyways, just as Aerrow had found out about Cyclonis' wedding.
"So do I live out the rest of my life in your prison or did you buy me to kill me?"
Dark Ace frowned. Curiosity of where Aerrow had found out that sort of information flickered in his eyes momentarily. But it was gone before he bothered with it. Instead, Dark Ace took a stance that seemed a bit less taunting to Aerrow's eyes. "You think that you can die and escape without first letting me gloat over my victory for years to come?"
Aerrow sighed. He didn't think that he would be relieved about not dying, but he was. Taking a stance of nonchalance, Aerrow replied,"Ok, then I guess to the prison I go then."
"Don't get cocky with me, child!"
That was enough to fuel Aerrow into a glare. Aerrow was no longer a child. He hadn't been for years. In fact, the only fun he, Piper, Raadar and Finn had reclaimed had been through the Condor, the airship that had been taken away from them. Before the Condor, Stork, and Junko, they had been teased mercilessly. Each bullied for their strange obsessions and their want to be apart of a Sky Knight Squadron when there was none for Terra Neverlandis. Thankfully, Dark Ace was sated with a glare and didn't bother to yell more.
"I came to tell you that I will personally see to it, without Mr. Moss slipping up on the job yet again, that you are locked away forever. You will rot in the exact spot your thrown in and then I won't have to worry about the "Storm Hawks" and their beliefs in the old Sky Knight Council ever again."
Aerrow sneered, his eyes never once leaving his enemy as the Dark Ace stepped back. The raven haired man seemed observant for a moment, glaring at Aerrow, eyes never quite focusing on him.
It made Aerrow's skin crawl being scrutinized as such. "I hope the Cyclonis' wedding went wonderfully. She should be so happy to find someone that would actually tolerate her poisonous nature."
Dark Ace smirked before indicating to his suit. In a mocking voice, one that said there was amusement lingering behind it, Dark Ace retorted, "And what about my poisonous nature, Sky Knight?"
Analyzing the situation, Aerrow peeked from Dark Ace's attire to the smirk. He put two and two together immediately. "You were the one getting married?"
An almost snort fell out of Aerrow's mouth. It was completely humorless, sarcastic and cutting all at once.
Dark Ace only walked off, still smirking as Aerrow couldn't help but try to imagine how absolutely grand that the two most hated people in all Atmos, should find themselves wedded. Cyclonis really did find her match after all this time. She found someone that would wait on her every word, fulfill her every whim.
"Aerrow?" came a small voice. It was frail and gentle, but distinct.
Aerrow peered upwards to see his best friend peek from behind the doorway, her copper eyes laden with a sadness that he had never seen before. Although, that didn't matter right now. What did was that Piper was aboard the ship. She was here…with him. At long last…
"Piper?" breathed Aerrow, not quite trusting himself. Within the span of twenty-four hours, he had been uprooted and wrung of every last emotion he could possibly feel. Right now he needed his best friend and former teammate to be with him. He wanted her next to him where it could be two Storm Hawks against the Talons once more.
There seemed to be some hesitance that Aerrow couldn't place. He didn't know what was wrong, but he knew that the closer Piper came, the better he'd feel. He needed her more than ever right now.
"It's ok, Piper," Aerrow called out softly. His voice was low and encouraging. He needed her to make those few steps forwards, into the room and near the bars. To booster the encouragement, Aerrow lifted up his hand, offering his open palm to her.
Piper only shook her head, sighing heavily as if she were trying to hold back tears. "I tried, Aerrow. I promise that I've tried. But I couldn't… I didn't want to be put back into that crystal. I didn't have a choice. I didn't even get to say anything at all because Master Cyclonis said it all for me."
She stopped, rubbing her eyes furiously. "Aerrow, I would never intentionally hurt you. You know that I wouldn't."
Seeing the distress in his best friend, Aerrow quickly tried to calm it. "That's ok, Piper. I'm not hurt about seeing you."
That caused Piper to pull back more, as if she couldn't get over the fact that she was being accepted despite whatever nonsense that Master Cyclonis made her believe. Aerrow didn't know the extent of Piper's treatment, but he knew that Cyclonians were liars, brutal liars. He vowed to repay them for their lack of kindness, one day, if he lived that long to do so. His mind slipped to Arygyn for a moment and how easy it would have been to just let him out while there was still a chance. Aerrow was just going to have to make his own chances.
Piper sniffed a few times in the shadows of the doorway, before she inhaled deeply and stepped over the threshold. A white lacy top was adorned in beads and finery, drapped in satin folds that elegantly showed off Piper's shoulder line. The rest of the outfit was white as well, the half pants, looking eerily like undergarments threw Aerrow off completely as to what Piper was suppose to be dressed as. "Piper…"
"Master Cyclonis forced me to marry the Dark Ace," Piper stated, her head tipped down low. Her breath seemed to falter.
Aerrow closed his eyes. His face scrunched up, pain filling every corner of it, running across the harsh lines and furrowed wrinkles. His mind blurring once more in bad news. This was becoming old rather quickly. The plague of awful luck struck hard for the past year. Aerrow felt as though he were a tiny shell that kept sliding off the shores of Terra Tropica, only to be repeatedly picked up by the waves and slammed down on the surface once again, until he shattered from the convecting, violent forces raining down.
He just felt so…tired.
"Aerrow, please…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can never make this up to you, never. I know that I hurt you-"
"Piper, stop."
Aerrow gained attention of the copper eyes staring sorrowfully back at him. He offered his hand once more, hoping that Piper would take it. "Please…"
She didn't hesitate this time, then grabbed onto the hand as if it were a lifeline. She refused to let go of it, even as Aerrow sat himself back down on the ground, finding a seat for herself next to him. Aerrow couldn't help but notice how upset Piper was. He hadn't reassured her of anything yet and the tension hadn't left her stiff form.
"This whole thing isn't your fault," started Aerrow, mind traveling over the faces of Cyclonis, the Dark Ace, the guardians in their feathered robes, the oracle…. "Whatever happened, this was because of Terra Cyclonia's war. We can't fall apart just yet. I saw Murk Raiders where Finn and Stork were handed off to today."
That seemed to put some light behind Piper's eyes. It only persuaded Aerrow to continue. "I know that Junko is out there free somewhere. His uncle had pulled him from the prisons because of him being from Terra Wallop... You and I, we've always been through a lot together. I can't do this without you."
Piper grabbed the hand with her other one as well, sandwiching Aerrow's between hers. "I'm not letting you do this without me."
A smile was shared between the two of them. A smile that held a little more than the friends that they called themselves, but for now, it went unsaid. Piper eventually picked up the hand over top of Aerrow's, allowing the other to stay in his grip as she glanced away. Aerrow watched her, trying to follow as she was doing. He was trying not make any indications of attraction too obvious between them. It didn't seem appropriate to bring up such trying topics when Piper was still dressed in her partial gown. In fact, anything to lighten the mood was probably a good place to restart this reunion.
"So…you got married in your, uh...underwear?"
Piper peeked down and then folded her knees up, face reddening in embarrassment. The darkened flush told Aerrow that he had been spot on in his assumptions.
"They were the ones that wanted this wedding to be the talk of all Atmos," reasoned Piper, staring off. That old spunk popping out, the one that Aerrow had grown to love about his specialist.
She smiled slowly, the worry on her face dissolving one step at a time. Aerrow couldn't help but feel proud of Piper's act of rebellion. It was refreshing to know that his best friend wasn't too grown up not to pull a last minute, childish stunt after all.
Then the smile faded all too quickly. "Aerrow, what are we going to do?"
They were in the same situation together. Aerrow couldn't ignore that, his hatred for the Dark Ace doubling instantly. There was no telling what could be done. Arygyn had already shown up and left them high and dry. The oracle was a bad predictor of the future, spewing out lies of how things would turn out for Atmos in the end, that the Storm Hawks would have a different future than chains. Aerrow didn't have the strength in him to say that though. He didn't want to give Piper the same bleak outlook that had been slammed into him since Mr. Moss' cell.
So instead he opted for the safest thing that he could possibly say.
"I don't know, Piper. But, at least, we're together."
Aerrow squeezed the hand in his own. He smiled over at the girl, who appeared a bit more choked up at the moment. "Still best friends?"
Piper smirked, her bangs falling in her face as she tipped her head forward. Her empty hand quickly found it's way through the locks of dark blue, brushing at one spot repeatedly, all the while trying not to be noticed. Aerrow said nothing, making himself stare elsewhere, as if he hadn't seen his best friend's tears. It was better that Piper have her private moment, even if it was in front of him. After all, his instincts to immediately solve Piper's every dilemma because of tears were absolutely useless. He had nothing else to go on for this scenario than let things take care of themselves.
"Best friends forever," whispered Piper back, hand returning the squeeze.
Aerrow couldn't help but smile, heart racing a little faster than before. He could always trust Piper, always. She had never once strayed from his side. He couldn't imagine she ever would.
