Chapter One
It had all started with the bruising of the summer sky. The once bright blue swelled and grew black as a fierce thunderstorm took shape. Gathering momentum, strong gale force winds shrieked like a thousand wounded wolves. It battered through the trees, snapping branches, destroying nests, and blowing anything not nailed down far across the vast terrain of the jungle landscape. The canopy creaked and groaned under the strain as it fought to shelter the ground from the drenching onslaught of the torrential downpour.
With each passing second, the weather continued to worsen. The surf-on rushed across the northern borders of Rio de Janeiro. Water rushed across the path like a great river, which only served to block any advancement to the east and west. The trees themselves did not fare much better. Chunks of tree bark snapped as the supported weight they carried continued to increase tenfold. Their internal structures were not designed for this scenario.
It would be the ultimate test of time to see which fell first. The tree itself, or the water it carried beyond the safe limits. As the typhoon continued to creep across the land, traveling proved to be too dangerous. Most birds sought shelter within their hollows, hoping that the dangerous weather would pass by morning. They remained blissfully unaware of a figure creeping along the path. With her body damaged beyond repair, she dripped blood from several open wounds. She panted, struggling to remain breathing.
In her wings nestled a small baby. He whimpered as he peered out at a complete loss for what was happening. He was a large lump of a baby hawk, not much older than a few days old. He shed painful tears as he felt the rainwater hammer against his body. Soaked to the bone, the baby felt cold. He did not like it one bit. He stared up at his mother, who struggled to move forward. The wind blew her blood-stained feathers in every direction. Her muddy talons hooked onto the ground, not willing to let go lest they be blown away. Her voice called out to the baby in a soothing yet pain-filled whisper. With every word, she became that much closer to death. She could feel her energy draining from her body.
"It's okay… It's okay… my son. We'll soon find shelter… I promise."
She heard the sound of footsteps echoing over the storm. They filled her ears, coming from every direction. Her eyes widened in horror as she turned around, eyeing the darkening forest. She could not see anyone, but she knew from the way they approached exactly who they were. Her courage deserted her. She hushed the baby and forced herself to sprint. She did not care about herself anymore. She knew she would be dead anyway once her injuries claimed the last of her energy. She needed to get her baby hidden somewhere safe… somewhere where evil could not find him… her talons splashed through the mud. The wind-battered her senseless body like a rag doll. She groaned and fell to the ground. In the end, she had failed in her quest. She could not protect her charge. She peered at him and frowned as the baby's whimper filled her ears.
"My son… please… forgive me…."
The baby crawled towards his mother and rubbed his beak against her head. She did not acknowledge his touch. He whimpered once more and tried again. His mother did not move aside from her feathers, which continued to be pelted by the rain. Her eyes remained forever closed, her body no longer a vassal of the life it once contained. She laid unmoving, unfeeling, and deceased. The baby shed a couple of tears as he lay beside her. He hid under her wings, which swayed in the shifting winds. He cooed softly, longing for his mother's touch, which he would never again receive. After a couple of minutes, the baby peered out from under his mother's wings. He could hear the movements of a large creature breaking through the thick underbrush. A large hawk emerged into view and worked its way towards him. Cackling to himself, he peered down at the little baby and plucked him off the ground.
"And what do you think you're doing, little guy?" he asked. "Don't you know that it's dangerous? You might just get eaten if you're not careful… in fact… I think I might just eat you myself."
The hawk opened his beak wide and prepared himself to devour the little baby. Raising his wings, he lowered his head. Damp traces of saliva drifted down his face as he readied for the taste of meat on his taste buds. Before he could make a move, however, a different kind of lightning bolt filled the air. It appeared as a purple flash of light and sent a cold chill down from the heavens, which quickly spread through the entire region. It struck the ground inches from where he stood, sweeping him off his feet. He landed on the ground with a sickening thud.
"What in the hell was that?" he cringed, rising up onto his talons and dusting himself off. "Hey Thiago, get over here and be quick about it."
"I told you not to call me that name, Idiot." A sharp hoarse voice called back a reply. The hawk turned to see another predatory bird of the same species step into view. He was much bigger, dressed in a black robe and a hood that covered most of his face. His beak prodded from the thick fabric as the only discernible feature on his whole body. "I am the Storm King. I hold no equal and you are to treat me as such if you expect to live. Am I understood?"
The hawk bowed his head low and lowered himself onto the ground. The scorch marks from the lightning strike still darkened the ground with each passing second. The bird who had been struck could feel his body growing numb. Before he lost all feeling in his body, he presented him the baby who huddled near the body of his momma. The young bird appeared very fearful in the newcomer's presence. He did his best to avoid any eye contact with the unpleasant hawk. He swallowed a large lump in his throat and pointed towards the slain woman who lay dead upon the ground.
"I found her boss," the injured hawk said, bowing his head. "Sad to say, she is dead as a doornail. I almost lost my appetite by stumbling across her. The only thing she had in her possession was this baby."
The Storm King looked at the woman with an arched eyebrow. His beak twisted into a vicious snarl. His face darkened with a furious rage that sent a cold chill even down his own spine. He snatched the baby and admired him for a moment while sniffing him. He pulled away, disgusted by the rather cute chick.
"Do you care to explain to me why I should be interested in a baby?" he asked, "And while you're at it, would you care to explain why Sybil is dead? You say you found her like this, but surely your expertise could tell you more than that?"
The fearful hawk who had taken it upon himself to chase the slain bird lowered his head. His voice stuttered as his mind shifted through many excuses, which all came out of his mouth at once. He needed to find a good one or his life would be forfeit. He rustled his wings together in nervous anticipation, his tails feathers drooped.
"W-W-W-Well, you see, Lord, she was uh already like that by the time I got here. She must have died from her injuries, and it is raining very heavily, it's almost battering, it would take its toll on anyone and…"
The Storm King rolled his eyes. He shook his head and clicked his heavy beak together. His eyes never moved off of the baby. He addressed him as if he were his own servant.
"She died before I could get my claws upon her. That is very good for your mother, kid. However, that is very bad for my friend here… wouldn't you agree?"
The baby whimpered, almost as if in reply to the hawk's cold antics. The Storm King cackled and turned his attention over to his oafish companion.
"Now that deals with what happened to her, but that still doesn't explain why I am holding this little brat? Shouldn't be drowning him or something?"
"I would advise against that."
The Storm King shifted his attention to the side of the grotto, where a second robed bird sat hunched in the form of a lump. Rising up onto her talons, her eyes glistened as she studied the pair of birds curiously for a moment before cracking a sly smile, which sent a cold chill down the spine of both of the hawk's spines. The Storm King backed away in an effort to keep his distance from the intruder, who had snuck up on him without him even realizing it. His eyes narrowed as he returned an equally cold glare to the female, who could not help but cackle in amusement towards the charade.
"You consider yourself powerful, don't you?" she spit with disgust. "I have five hundred times more power within one feather than you do in your entire body. You are nothing to me and you should consider yourself quite fortunate that I am not here to hurt you…"
The Storm King's oaf of an assistant stepped forward, swinging his wing through the air.
"How dare you speak to the king of all hawks in that fashion? You are nothing but a peon with self-delusions. You are-"
Before another word could be spoken, The Storm King drove his wing straight through the gut of his follower who fell instantly slain. His eyes continued to narrow as they remained glued to the strange female.
"You'll have to excuse him. He is but a fool. If you are not here to fight me or to challenge my reign, then what are you here for?"
"I am here for the baby," she said. "You see, your little girlfriend was running to escape my power. The boy is mine. His future is engraved in stone, and he will serve me unquestioningly. You are to raise him until the day I return for him. See that no harm comes to the boy or else I will make you regret it… and I assure you, you don't want that to happen… because there are things far worse than death."
The Storm King would have protested but found himself standing alone beside the two slain figures and the baby hawk. Thunder rumbled far off into the distance, almost giving credibility to the strange female's threat. The Storm King smiled as he let the beauty of the night embrace him. Somehow, he did not fear her, for even the weather was on his side.
#
The hawk civilization existed within a secret society deep in the jungles to the north of Rio de Janeiro. Far from the prying eyes of the human civilization, they remained hidden amongst the tropical glades. To most accounts, the hawks seemed to be a rare species amongst the rest of the civilization of birds. In reality, there existed over six hundred able-bodied creatures, every one of them, fierce, determined, and very dangerous. The weather did not deter them from their active duties. They continued to train, allowing themselves to compensate for the weather. They used it to their advantage, allowing the gale-force winds to improve their speed, agility, stamina, and overall strength of their fearsome strikes. The rain only cooled them off, keeping them from becoming tired and overheated. Water did wonders for them in combat. They could not be beaten with all their advantages being in the dangerous weather.
The Storm king entered the village, with Marco resting peacefully within his wings. The baby appeared frightened, though he seemed peaceful enough for the moment, anyways. The Storm King did not even attempt to calm the baby during the entire trip back. He did not care for the brat… in fact, he could feel resentment, hatred and an overwhelming sensation to slaughter the kid. His wings twitched with the kind in his grip. He could do it so easily but knew he shouldn't. Not until he knew for certain about whether Marco held any value to him or not. A small female hawk slipped to his side and brushed him off with two swift movements of her wing. She smiled and peered into his eyes. She bowed her head low with respect before speaking to him.
"How was your hunt?" she asked. "I bet Sybil didn't get very far, eh? It serves her right, the stupid fool."
The Storm King held up his wing and issued for silence. He did not wish to discuss the thrill of his hunt. The female quickly changed conversation topics to avoid angering her master. She eyed the baby in his possession and forced a rather cute smile upon the end of her beak.
"Awwww, isn't he a cutie? Where in the world did you manage to find a baby hawk?"
The Storm King once again issued for silence. He handed the baby to her and glared at her through stern, no-nonsense eyes. His voice echoed out in a cruel, emotionless hiss. Despite her fears, she listened to his orders and nodded in understanding.
"His name is Marco… I'd advise you to remember that. Now take him and clean him up. His training begins tomorrow. Have him beaten until he can receive no more bruising. Ridicule him, until he holds no more compassion for anyone. I want to see his true potential as he grows. He might just be of some use to me one day."
The hawk stopped and noticed the female's stunned expression. She could not understand why he would want to have a baby beaten to such an extent. She shuddered and peered down at him.
"Oh, and one more thing," the hawk formed a wicked smile. "Tomorrow night, you'll bring him before the Spix's macaw statue. He is to be bathed in the moonlight, the way we all were. Do you understand?"
The female nodded her head again. "Do you think the protective gods will speak to him, Lord?" she asked. "They say a messenger will appear to the one who holds the strength and power to slay a million birds in a single strike… the ultimate warrior… do you believe it is this boy?"
The Storm King spit with disgust. He couldn't help but laugh at the very idea. He never believed in such nonsense as a messenger appearing before anyone. He never believed in the legend of the ultimate warrior or of the great army he was supposed to control with his own power. He didn't believe that powers of flesh and spirit could mix, granting far greater powers than anything ever imagined. It all seemed to be mystical mumbo jumbo. Sure, he knew some spells, and he could use them to his advantage, but there wasn't anything out there to prove the existence of a god.
"Don't make me laugh," The Storm King snarled. "He is nothing more than the son of a foolish old woman. He will never amount to anything except for being my puppet. I can guarantee you that one."