Chapter 1
“Warren!” a shout echoed through the corridors of the castle at a pitch almost too high for human ears to hear comfortably. The prince frowned and stayed lounging on the overstuffed, deep blue velvet couch in his room. Ignoring the next call, he stretched it out further, un-tucking his wings from beneath his shoulders. He soon heard foot steps heading towards his room. Just as he expected, Jean Grey burst into the room, her green eyes flashing in anger.
Prince Warren glanced over at her, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “Did you want something?”
Jean took a few long strides in his direction, her dark green skirts whispering against the marble floor, “You were meant to be downstairs twenty minutes ago.”
“I decided I am simply not in the mood to deal with the commoners this afternoon,” He straightened the sleeves of his royal blue silk shirt. “Use you magic and make them think they came on the wrong day.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Your Majesty,” Jean replied, barely resisting the urge to set the couch on fire.
“Ah,” Warren started, looking up at her, “So you aren’t as powerful as you would like us all to believe.” A nearby table erupted in flames, but the Prince just looked slightly amused. Jean’s now flaming hair was beginning to rise around her shoulders. Warren stood, twitching his wings a little to straighten the crooked feathers. “Either way, I have complete confidence that you are capable of resolving the matter. Now,” He brushed past her, heading for the door, “I have more important things that require my attention.” The door slammed shut just as Warren reached it.
“Did it sound like I was finished with you?”
“No, but I was finished with you,” Warren glanced back over his shoulder at her.
“Don’t forget who’s keeping your townspeople in check.”
“Don’t forget who pulled you out of prison,” He turned completely, facing her, crossing his arms over his chest. “What was it you were convicted of again? Open the door.”
Jean smirked, putting her hands on her hips, “You really think you have something on me, Your Highness? Who was it that helped you murder your parents? But more importantly, whose idea was it in the first place?” Jean took a step towards him, “You needed me then and you still need me now, so stop pretending like you have complete control. You’re not the king yet, you’re still just a little prince.” She waved her hand, opening the door, calming walking past the frowning prince, “I expect to see you downstairs in five minutes.”
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Many miles from the castle a young woman lay out on her back in the tall grass on the top of one of the small hills surrounding the small village in which she lived. Her long what hair swayed gently in the breeze as she enjoyed the warmth from the sun on her mocha colored skin. She knew she should have been helping her sisters with the chores, but knowing them she figured they were probably taking a break from the day’s work as well.
Her sky blue eyes watched the clouds pass by overhead as she thought of what chores she had left to finish. Remembering that she had to water the garden, she turned over on her stomach, pausing a half turn to straighten her white dress. Looking down from the hill at her home, she made sure that no one was outside. Then she looked up into the sky, her blue eyes turning white as she called for a small storm cloud to form over her family’s garden. The small storm soon formed, a gentle rain fell over the house and garden. Smiling to herself, she watched her small storm, sending it away a few minutes later.
“Ororo! I just finished cleanin’ the windows an’ you go an’ call in one of your storms!” Rouge, her youngest sister yelled, poking her head out of the second floor windows. Laughing, Ororo sent a breeze to ruffle the younger girl’s auburn hair. “Don’ make me come out there after you!”
Ororo stood, shaking the grass from her skirt and heading back towards the house, “And why would you do that, dear sister?”
“”Cause you ruined my windows!”
“I did no such thing.”
“Ya did so! They’re all wet now!”
“I believe you are mistaken.”
“Of course they are! They have ta be!”
“They look fine to me.”
Muttering to herself, Rogue flew out of the window, the pale green of her work skirts fluttering around her ankles. She quickly checked the windows along the side of the house and then landed next to Ororo who had just reached the bottom of the hill.
“They aren’t ruined,” Rogue said, looking up at Ororo. “How did ya’ do that?”
Smiling down at the younger girl, Ororo shrugged, “I did not do anything, sister. It just happened to work out that way without my assistance.” She reached up, tying her hair back into a low ponytail, “Where is Betsy?”
“Last time I saw her, she was on her way to the market. She should be back any minute now.”
Ororo nodded and headed around to the front door, “We had better finish the day’s chores before it gets too late.”
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Scott Summers looked up from his desk as two lower guards entered his office. Between them they held a seemingly unconscious young man wearing a long, dusty brown trench coat. Frowning, Scott stood and walked around his desk, adjusting the dark blue jacket of his uniform. As he approached the three, he heard the young man begin to groan.
Ignoring this, Scott focused his attention of the guards, “Where was he caught?”
“Just outside the mining town, sir. He had a bag of stolen goods,” The man on the left answered. Scott noticed he was holding a silver staff.
“What is that?” Scott asked, nodding towards the staff.
“Dunno, sir, but he sure tried to keep hold of it,” The guard on the right replied with a shrug.
“And were you two the ones to apprehend him?”
The man on the left laughed, “’Course not, sir. A group of the higher ups caught him. They asked us to bring him up since they were limping so much. They looked pretty banged up if you ask me, sir.”
Scott rolled his eyes behind his dark red glasses. He knew these men couldn’t have been on his squad. He needed to have a word with the governess about the prison’s hiring policies.
“Right, well I’ll take him from here,” Scott said, grabbing the young thief’s arms. “Put that staff on my desk and you two can be on your way.”
“Yes, sir,” The two men attempted a salute before doing what they were told. Once they were gone, Scott let out a sigh. Raven was really being much too lax with the new recruits. He made a mental note to talk to her about that as soon as possible.
Scott walked through the corridors of the prison, half dragging the newest addition beside him. The inmates were silent as they looked through their barred door windows at him.
“We’ve been looking for you a long time, Mr. LeBeau. It was beginning to look as if you would never be caught, but here you are,” Scott said almost grinning to himself as the young thief groaned again, “in prison where you belong.”
“Look, homme, Remy has a headache, so could ya shut up?”
Scott frowned, glaring at the younger man even though he wouldn’t see it, “You had better learn to watch your mouth in here, Mr. LeBeau, especially around me.”
Remy lifted his head for the first time since entering the prison, looking up at Scott, “Ah’ll be sure ta keep dat in min’. Watch out fo’ da Chief Scott Summers. Check,” Scott’s frown grew deeper as Remy’s red on black eyes lit up in amusement. “Does Remy need ta be salutin’ now or are we continuin’ da grand tour?”
Scott’s grip on Remy’s arm tightened as he glanced around the corridor they were in. Cell 130 will do nicely, Scott thought, pulling Remy towards the heavily reinforced cell. After carefully unlocking the door, he pushed the thief inside the dark cell, securing it behind him. Taking another second to check the locks, Scott marched away.
“Merde,” Remy swore, leaning against the wall of his new cell. Very little light made its way into in the cell even though Remy knew it was only a little after mid-day. Inside the cell it looked as if it could have been approaching midnight instead. Fumbling with the sleeve of his jacket he pulled out a thin lock pick and set to work on the handcuffs secured around his wrists. Soon the pieces of metal clanged against the stone floor of the cell. Rubbing his wrists, Remy looked around the room, barely making out the beds that had been pushed against the opposite wall.
“Nice trick, kid.”
