A/N: Aha? What's this? A chapter? I can apologize for not posting till the cows come home but I should better save my words for writing than apologizing. And why is when I finally return the front page so happens to be filled with OC stories?
And this is short too so hate me.
Chapter 25: Walls, and Dead Ends
The fog moved silently. It hovered among the wreckage between the mounds of wood and stone and glass. There was a silence. Like the silence that comes after a very large noise. Like it was waiting for the next thunderclap, for the horn of a massive airship to blow again.
The ground was broken. There had been a platonic shift, or perhaps it had always been that way. A few feet before where Finn stood the ground dropped off sharply, like it was separating the town from the past. There a was wind that made no noise and seemed to ruffle nothing but urge the fog.
The wheels of the wagon creaked clearly, and gravel scuffed as Stork walked up behind Finn, the chase, obviously over.
The two stood there, overlooking the expanse. Absorbed by it's immensity of space and what it contained.
"What was it?"
It didn't really sound like a question. It didn't sound like Finn either. It was monotonously serious.
Stork crouched low to the ground and picked up a stray pebble.
"Cyclonians." He replied in a an uninterested tone.
Stork flicked the pebble and flew of the edge of the small ridge. It tumbled down, clinking off the rocks, hitting the bottom and then becoming still.
Finn continued to stare out across the stationary debris.
"How long ago?" Same sober manner.
Stork flicked another pebble, shooting it from the ground this time.
"How long have I been traveling with you?"
Finn glanced over at him, a bit confused by the question. "Two years." he said.
"Then, oh, about five." Stork replied, looking over the flat.
"Years?" Shock etched into Finn's flat tone.
"Give or take." Stork said nonchalantly. "Time in the wastelands passes differently. Well, seems to anyways."
Finn's subdued statue had worn off a little. He gaped at Stork. Then he looked at the wreck, then back at his team-mate.
"This was you," he said the realization startling him.
Stork didn't meet Finn's eyes. His lips with pursed together softly and he scratched his shoulder, displaying no emotion.
"You never came back to Terra Merb…because there wasn't anything to go back to."
Stork stared at the ground, tracing his finger through the gravel making irregular shapes. He gave no indication that he had heard Finn.
Neither spoke for a while.
Appearing more board than anything else Stork continued to draw lines in the grit on the ground. Finn was still gaping slightly at Stork.
No one ever talked about it.
Their darker, blurrier, pasts.
It was something they all left to drift in the background like a wall. This wall- when things went wrong, whenever they were afraid and felt life backing away from a fight, this wall stopped them, kept them from turning away from being a squadron. It didn't allow them to run away. But they never talked about it- their past experiences. Memories of their oldest homes and lives were all behind that wall, pushing them forward, giving them a reason to fight. Settling down on a terra, getting regular jobs and living 'peaceful' lives- the wall didn't allow them to move in that direction. No one talked about it though. The wall, and whatever was behind it. No one talked about it.
But it was still there.
Stork stopped midway though a square and looked up and out across the field. "You see that pile?" he asked, pointing out.
Finn tried to spot the mound Stork was pointing at. "Uh…which one?" he asked.
"The one to the left, with little bits sticking up."
"You mean that one?" asked Finn squinting his eyes, then pointing.
"No, no, no- wait? Which one are you pointing at?" Stork stood and leaned over near Finn, trying to see more accurately from his angle.
"That one." Finn repeated.
"No, no, up two and to the left, I mean right."
"Oh…with the wood sticking up?"
"Yup."
"Oh yeah I see it…I think."
Stork moved away from Finn and went back to squatting without saying anything else. Finally, Finn asked, "What about it?"
Stork shrugged. "Used to be mine."
And then Stork did something very unusual, even for him, something that no one had done before.
He started talking about the wall, and what was behind it for him.
Piper stood cautiously, twisting her foot against the floor. Her lithe ankle was wrapped in bandages.
"How do you feel?" asked Aerrow, concern in his translucent eyes.
She turned around and smiled. "Fine," she replied, a tiny chuckle mingling in her words. They'd been able to return to the city later that night and had been given some quick medical attention under Qin's order. Cassiter had a minor concussion and was still snoring in his bed, a bit sprawled out, she melancholy connected, like Finn slept. Carnelian was nothing more than frazzled and Roofus was being treated back in the Sky Demon stables. The morning's light was shining into the infirmary from the balcony and the huge windows, reflecting off the cyan crystal floor and off the white of the bed spreads.
Aerrow's eyes darted from Piper's bandages on her calves and ankle, the acid on the Skugger's tongues had done some minor damage, and to her face, trying to decipher whether she felt as fine as she claimed.
"Really, I am." Piper insisted catching his worried glances. "The medicine the nurses gave pretty much healed me."
"Just take it easy," said Aerrow, "You don't need to strain yourself."
"I won't." Piper insisted. "Don't worry."
"It's just that I feel so bad," Aerrow admitted hanging his head shamefully. "I wasn't able to help you guys at all. I guess I'm not used to being useless."
"No," said Piper taking a step closer, "You are not useless, alright? There wasn't anything you could do so don't blame yourself."
Aerrow grimaced, still disappointed with himself. Somehow she knew this.
"Hey," chastised Piper. "You can barely turn the pages on the book." she said.
"That doesn't make me feel much better." Aerrow noted.
"I'm just saying," Piper continued, "Fighting off a foreign creature is a bit of a jump."
Aerrow thought about it and smiled a little. "I guess you're right."
Piper giggled.
Outside in the hall, a figure slunk away from the door. Domiwick smiled to himself. So the trip to the Anti-seer crystal hadn't gone well. And that annoying little brat of a girl had been injured so they wouldn't been doing anymore exploring for a little while. That was good news for him. Still, he hadn't expected them to come back so soon. Their little excursion had barely left him with enough time to copy the relevant pages from The Complete Guide of Crystals, Volume 5 as well as all the other books and maps containing any information about the Helix crystal. He had at first thought about simply taking the book, but then the girl would know something was up. Unfortunately, since Cyclonis had yet to return all he could do was hold on to the copied notes and wait for Cyclonis. She was sure to want such a gem, and supply all the means of getting it. The trip would be far too dangerous to commence alone. Getting to the Farside had been troubling enough on his own- and he was not about to die now before he was able to return to Atmos with his discoveries. He curled one fist determinedly.
Soon he was going to be the most famous explorer ever.
Meanwhile….
The air above Cyclonia was fresher than it had ever been.
It still reeked.
The skies were still tinted ominously orange, like a stain that could not be removed. Skimmers darted around in the sky.
Starling's Log
In light of the recent attack of Ae- The Dark Ace, the Skyknight Council called an emergency meeting. The squadrons now have been sent throughout Atmos to search out any hiding Cyclonian camps.
Starling peered down over the side of her ride. You couldn't miss the hulking mass of rock that had once been Cyclonia- it looked oddly though as if it belonged in the Wastelands- its spiky columns matching those that naturally sprung there.
She took her ride down towards the fallen castle.
Stepping into the main chamber it was hard to believe it had been abandoned only a week or so ago. It appeared to have been longer than that it seemed so cold and still.
The place was a wreck and the whole terra was slanted, making walking a strange action. Running about searching the fortress, and holding up crystal torches to the darkened places was the search team. One of the captains of the team came up to Starling who was staring at a pile of rundown metal and glass. He handed her a purple crystal and reported that they hadn't found anything else yet.
…Few books and records. Food and supplies all seemed to have vanished with their people. The terra is abandoned. The only clue is several drained warp crystals throughout the terra. The Cyclonians must have used them to make their hasty getaway.
Stepping back outside another member of the search team came up to Starling and told her the other squadrons that had been scavenging the other terras had not found anything either.
I can only imagine they're hiding somewhere in the Wastelands or on some unknown terras. If so, it will be difficult to find their base.
Starling sighed. It had been too good to be true. Cyclonia had been the plague of Atmos for hundreds of years. It figured that it would not be rid of so easily. And it would be too convenient to have found the remaining Cyclonians hiding at their old terra. She had reached a dead end.
Starling glanced at some more passing skimmers combing the area.
She thought of the Storm Hawks and hoped they were alright.