This is for Azaria-Lady of Dreams. She gave me the kiss idea with her great writing. This is to you, Azaria! Thanks for everything...
Dark Ace's footsteps echoed across the empty hallway as he walked back to his own bedroom. He had returned from the simple recon mission with success. News of Aerrow's demise had not yet spread, but it would. He and his Talons had implanted the rumor. Soon, all of Atmos would be at the mercy of the Cyclonians.
Dark Ace navigated the dim hallways with familier ease. He finally reached a dark door. It opened to his touch, sliding aside. It closed as he walked into the dimly lit chamber. A dark light bounced off the walls, casting an eerie glow.
The bed was small and neat. For some reason Dark Ace had never gotten over the small cots that he had slept in aboard the Condor. He took off his head gear and chest armor before sitting silently on his bed and pondering.
Aerrow was dead.
For some reason he still didn't believe it. He had done it, yet his hands had shaken afterwards. Just like they had after he had killed Aerron, too. They had never done that, ever. It was always, No Mercy. Ever. He had become a different man when he gripped that sword. A different person. Killing was as much a part of him as anything. No mercy. Yet why did he feel...was it regret?
The night was young, but he was tired. Not tired like after a fight, or after five hours of greusome training, or after he'd suffered the incompetence of Snipe and Ravess. His mind was tired. His soul-if he had a soul-was tired.
Mother told me that my father had been a drunkard, had beat her. Then she'd say his beatings made her strong. So that was why she hit me. To make me strong. Her breath had smelled like sky beer, her dress short and slit to her thigh. She had been scary. He thought maybe his father had killed himself just to run away. Then SHE ran away. Some guy she met at the bar. It was always another man she met at the bar.
Handed down, one relative after another, until no one cared for him anymore. They said he scared them: his dark ways, his strange silences, his empty stares. His eyes had no color, just a pale blue. Fourteen years he had wandered, like a sky shark. The sky shark wanders, but he has no home. No home. Nobody.
Then came the Storm Hawks. They pretended to like him. He had liked them back. Perhaps even loved Zelia, and respected Aerron. But the glory shined upon only them. The dark boy holding them back. He never was swooned over, never held in great respect. Just the kid who piloted the skimmer. The dark haired little guy. No one ever asked where he came from, his name, his age. Just one other person...one other shadow of the great Storm Hawks.
So finally, one day, he had the weapon. The glory was his. The power was all his. He held the blade. For once in his life, he was in control. And power, control, it all felt so good. Master Cyclonis was power. Cyl was power. Cyl.
Why did he call her that?
Did he miss her? No...yes. Yes, he missed the real her. He missed the her that wasn't below being tickled through the hallways, missed the her that didn't mind hanging out with the new private, even though she was the heir to an empire. But then Master Cyclonis died. And Cyl had grown up too fast. Far too fast.
He never thought of her as Master Cyclonis, at least, not when alone. Master Cyclonis was her father. She would always be Cyl, laughing, dancing Cyl. In his heart. He had a heart, and he hated to admit it. Once upon a time, his laughter had been free. Once upon a time, when his young mind still believed in hope, and love, and mercy. Perhaps even freedom. The sky had been a home, once. Now it was a kingdom, a kingdom to be conquered. The storms he had once respected and feared, he now defied. The wind he had once ridden, he tore against. The life he had once accepted...no, he had never accepted it.
Time told him nothing but hate.
Love taught him nothing but stupidity.
Power taught him everything. It was a beautiful, rippling, thing, power. The Aurora Stone, the Storm Engine, his sword, his skimmer, his relationship with Cyl, and most of all, killing: that was ALL power. He wanted it more than anything.
As that thought crossed his mind, he didn't believe it. For some reason, Cyl came into his mind first. She was something else. He let that thought envelop him: talking to her, holding her, kissing--
Hell no.
He didn't love. Not anymore. Not after the lessons his bitter life had taught himself. But just one kiss...that would mean the world.
Cyclonis stood on the cliff, overseeing the activity below. Cranes lifted boxes of metal, crystals were carefully shipped to the weaponry. Life went on.
The door behind her opened.
Dark Ace.
He bowed, and she nodded. He walked forward to greet her.
Cyclonis looked down upon her empire, the Talons swooping around in bright red skimmers. She walked closer to the edge of the cliff. Her eyes were so concentrated, she didn't notice when her foot found no ground. Cyclonis tumbled forward and was about to fall when Dark Ace lunged forward and grabbed her around the waist. He yanked her unceremoniously back onto the ledge. The two collapsed in a heap.
"Thank you," she murmured. He just lay there. She rolled out of his grip and stood, brushing the dust from her battle suit. Dark Ace slowly stood. Cyclonis walked to the edge again and looked over her kingdom. She started to sway. Dark Ace placed a steady hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. She turned and let his red eyes drill into her violet orbs. He swooned when he saw how much her stare was like black water under moonlight.
"I won't fall," she said softly.
"I won't let you."
Dark Ace's hand didn't leave her shoulder. She glanced at the miners, the workers, and the land.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she said.
Dark Ace nodded, but he wasn't looking at the skies. He was looking at his Master. She smiled, a strange, strangled spasm that spread across her face. She hadn't seen this side of him in a long time. She was glad it was back.
The cold wind whipped at them on the ledge. Dark Ace pulled her even closer.
"Cold," she said, and gestured towards the door. She was leaning against his chest now. She liked it there; it felt warm and safe. He was smiling down at her. Her heart was thumping for a reason she didn't know.
"Better?" he asked. She nodded. He suddenly spun her around and looked into her eyes. She blinked; he shuddered to lose her gaze for even a moment. The darkness around them faded into insignificance as he pulled her face up to his and wrapped his arms around her slim waist.
The liquid of her eyes drew closer as she pulled in. He smiled again. The little space between them was lost as her lips touched his, softly at first, then fully.
The Dark Ace shuddered as she kissed him, his mind spinning. He hadn't expected this. She had never given him any other sign that she loved him, let alone wanted to be this close to him. He didn't mind.
Cyclonis eased herself into his grip, her hands resting easily on his broad shoulders. She liked it in his arms. The Storm Hawks could wait, she told herself. She was safe here. The breeze disappeared to her. She was in a vortex of time and space. This kiss was all that mattered.
He was the first to pull away. She saw confusion in his eyes. She pulled back, awkward, but smiled when he didn't let go of her. They stood there a long time, gazing at each other in silence.
Time passed and later they found themselves sitting on the ledge, talking.
"I remember the time you caught me on that skimmer flight," Cyclonis said softly. The Dark Ace chuckled.
"You looked like a hoodlum," he recalled, and laughed even harder when he saw Cyclonis smile shyly. "Good balance though, until that breeze blew by," he remarked. Her smile became one of remembrance.
The talk somehow wandered to him.
"Where are you from?" In all the years they had known each other, she had never thought to ask him.
"Home was a dusty terra that was barren and empty. Grew up with no one," he grunted. She nodded, sympathetic. Her father had not really been much of a father. Her mother...well...
Dark Ace coughed softly; the wind was biting. Cyclonis looked up, worried.
"We should be getting back," she said. "We have plans to discuss."
"And the others are probably missing you," Dark Ace said, reminding her that she was still a queen, and Cyclonia still her empire.
The two walked back, for their purpose was still evil, their plans still meant to ruin. Their seat was still the black throne of the Atmos.
