Author's Note: Hey everyone! I decided since I got all good reviews, that this story is goin' to stay. This chapter explains about the mutant, Angel.

JediKnightBalthasar: The mutant reminds me of Angel-Worren Worthington pre-archangel. Well, they should! Her name is Angela Worthington, daughter of Warren Worthington and Betsy Bradock. (In my universe, they got married.) :)

Phoenixqueen: I am a fan of X-Men, but I don't know a lot about X-Men Evolution. X-Men Evolution is the X-Men and gang as kids, with a different story plot. So if you know somethin' about X-Men, you'll understand this just fine.

Disclaimer: The elves shot arrows at the disclaimer, mistaking it for an orc.

Chapter One: Angel

By Dameon

My father always said to me "If you try hard enough you can do most anything". I found that a good piece of advise when I turned older, especially when I moved to the Xavier Institute for the Gifted in Bayville, New York.

The institute, in the form of a very impressive mansion, is for mutants like me. You see, every once in awhile a normal person is born with powers, like the ability to read minds, make fireballs, or teleport. Professor Charles Xavier, a mutant with incredibly telepathic, a.k.a. mind reading, abilities founded the school many years ago for young mutants just learning to control their 'gifts'. Unfortunately regular people are dreadfully afraid of mutants, and would most likely burn the institute to the ground if they ever found out our secret.

It started that Friday, the day before spring break at Bayville High. I stepped outside, free from the ninth grade for a full two weeks. My first thought was to stretch my wings and fly, as, like my father, my mutation is two white wings spanning at an awesome wingspan of ten feet long. The idea was quickly forced down, for to many people were around, my wings slumping slightly under my long tan coat that my father provided me with, the coat so much like his own.

I walked to the back of the school, waving quickly to people I knew and pretending I was going for a walk. Turning a corner, I ran into Mr. Hetter, my favorite teacher.

"Hello Miss Worthington," my language teacher greeted, holding a set of three books together, tied with string, "I believe you forgot your book set in eighth hour today and it is my belief that you will want these back."

Smiling, Mr. Hetter placed the books in my hand, "I must be off. Enjoy your break."

"Thanks Mr. Hetter!" I said somewhat sarcastically as I saw the title of the first book, Intermediate Grammar, "Have a good break."

Mr. Hetter only waved back at me, and I waited until he was out of seeing range before running out of the school and behind the football bleachers. Looking around for intruding eyes, I saw none and slipped off my coat. I unfurled my wings instantly, glad to be rid of the former cramped position. I stuffed my coat and book set into my backpack as I stretched my wings.

There was a slight breeze as I lifted off, my backpack securely on my back between my wings. The air was colder as I got higher, making sure to go high enough so that no person saw me. Cold didn't bother me much, as part of my mutation included resistance to cold altitudes. My eyes were specially protected, like a bird's, so that the wind whipping into my face gave me no trouble in seeing. I was very much like my father, sharing the last feature of quick reflexes and hollow bones.

Unlike my dad, part of my flying powers was the ability to fly at super high speeds. It took a lot out of me though, and I don't usually use it unless I feel like it. Today, I felt like flying along at a normal pace.

I flew through the blue sky, letting the wind hit my face. Down below I saw cars passing like ants trying to get to the ant hole as fast as they could. My thoughts drifted back to Mr. Hetter and his class

Mr. Hetter taught Honors Language for freshmen, and I had enough problems in his class to fill all my other classes. There was an extremely snobby girl who wouldn't leave me alone. My dad said he had never gotten picked on. I sighed, remembering my dad. Now I rarely saw my father, as he was busy with businesses and such things.

I smiled, for here in Bayville we had our own problems. It came mainly in the form of the Brotherhood, formally known as the Brotherhood of Mutants. Their belief is that mutants should rule over all. The X-Men, Professor Xavier's group, were constantly fighting to keep Magneto, the ringmaster of the Brotherhood, at bay.

The X-Men were my family, my dad having been part of the old team once. He was retired now, but was always ready to help them in their time of need. My mom used to be part of the X-Men to, her power being telekinesis, the ability to move things with her mind. My mom and dad were currently on a cruise, and decided I should stay at the institute. I didn't mind, as it meant more time to hang out with Bobby, one of my dad's old friends, and now one of mine.

The mansion loomed into sight ahead of me, and I prepared to land. My goal was my bedroom balcony, hoping it was open. Gliding in from the back of the house, luck was on my side as I saw my sliding door open. I landed, feeling my shoes thump softly on the cold stone. As I started to get my backpack off, someone opened the door and entered my room.

"Hey Angelo!" a tall man smiled, his short brown hair framing his green eyes and round boyish face, "Decided to fly home? I would have to."

This was Bobby Drake, also known as the human popsicle for his power to control ice. He usually called me Angelo, my nickname. Bobby was always there for me, kind of like a second father; kind of like a father I rarely see.

"What's the news 'round the house this afternoon?" I asked, tossing my backpack onto my blue bed covers.

"The usual," Bobby shrugged, leaning against the door frame, "Cyke's looking to put in more training time in the danger room."

"So, should I disappear for a while?" I frowned, knowing that Cyclops was always serious about training, "You know, go flying for awhile?"

"I would," Bobby agreed, "I'll tell Cyke you went to go do your homework somewhere."

I nodded, and scooped up my backpack with a sigh. Guess I would have to do homework this afternoon, "I'll be home for dinner."

"See ya kid," Bobby winked, watching as I shot off from my balcony.

Flying across the mansion grounds, I saw Samuel zoom after a frisbee, Rahne beating him to it in her wolf form. They were all about ten years older then me, but still really cool. Flapping higher, I decided to fly for awhile over the woods. I seriously didn't want to do danger room practice with Cyclops.

Cyclops was one of the older students at the institute, being the Professor's first student. His power was the ability to blast force beams from his eyes, the main problem being that he can't control the ruby red beams. So he hides behind ruby quartz glasses, seeing forever in an "infernal shade of red", so to quote him. His real name is Scott Summers and is an excellent, yet sometimes annoying, team leader.

I left the mansion grounds and perched on a tree, far from civilization. I grabbed Intermediate Grammar from the black hole, also known as my backpack.. I found my page and started at the practice sentences.

Just looking at the problems made me feel sleepy and bored. So I decided to go flying.

Smiling, I stuffed the book back into my backpack, promptly rising into the air. Since I would be back, I let my backpack hang on the tree branch. I swerved around invisible obstacles, pretending to be racing for a great treasure.

I flew for a few seconds, then did a super speed burst about fifteen feet. I almost stopped in mid air. I had never gone that fast in super flight. Shrugging it off, I continued at a normal speed for awhile, thinking of ways to tell off the bully in my class.

I kept flying for about fifteen minutes, oblivious to where I was going when I remembered Bobby and dinner. Braking to a halt in the air, I slowly turned around to find the mansion out of sight.

"Uh-oh," I gulped silently, "Not good."

I flew on, the forest below me turning greener and denser.

'This can't be the right way,' I thought to myself, flying onward, 'Where am I?'

It started to grow dark, the sun disappearing behind a line of trees. I frowned, my wings were starting to grow tired and it was starting to get a little chilly, even through my white long sleeved shirt and thick blue jeans. This wasn't good cause I can't fly forever. Stars came out, giving little light to show my path. I flew on for about five minutes, the pain in my shoulders growing.

I would have jumped to super speed, but I didn't want to tire my wings any more and take a chance of an unpleasant landing.

A light appeared in the distance, and I pushed the pain into my throat. Scott always taught me to ignore pain and fear as long as I had a goal in mind. My father's words rang in my ears; "If you try hard enough you can do most anything". New hope grew in my chest, and I flew towards the light.

The forest died away and was replaced by a rocky plain with tall grass, barely visible in the darkness. A river twined under me, the water making no noise. The light drew even closer.

As I got nearer, I observed it was a very large palace, siting by a river, a waterfall in the background. The scene looked like it had jumped from a postcard, perfect and unblemished, too beautiful for words.

I decided against stopping in case I lost my steady pace and ended up falling out of the sky. The river rocks did not look kind, and the water could be freezing. I used the last energy tap I had to go up to my fastest slow speed, which was about equal to a cantering horse.

I was almost to the river when something hit my right wing, making it falter. Another thing hit my right shoulder, and I saw it was an arrow. I grimaced as I stopped in mid air, my wing shuddering in pain. I started to fall, the rocks coming closer.

'I love you dad,' I said in my mind, before hitting the rocks in a head on collision. The last thing I knew was my head exploding in pain, my arm cracking loudly, and cold water splashing around me.