"Snow! Snow! It's so cold!"

My brother's cheers draw up a small smile. His flailing tail has made the previously clean sheet of snow a complete mess.

It was quite a basic oversight from me - the mountains, filled with snow in this season, would only have frozen lakes. Even if there were one, it would likely be at a temperature that is far too low for swimming in. However, my brother managed to occupy himself with something else.

"Yikes!" He surfaces and dashes towards me, coiling himself around my body. "This is too cold!"

"Yep, that's what snow does to you." I give him a small pat as I stand up. "Maybe we should go down to the beach. I think all the lakes are frozen over here."

"What about hot springs? I remember Papa telling me that there is warm water in the mountains!"

"Hot springs?" I have heard of the term before, but am unfamiliar with the details. "You mean, warm water all the way up here? No way!"

"Yes way! At least let's try finding it! It's my first time into the mountains!"

"Alright alright, hold on tight." I am glad that he is enthusiastic in such an infectious way. If it were anyone else, I would be in a worse mood…

...

I take to the air, the mess that Spirit made just a speck in the distant ground. Surveying the lands, I spot a trickling stream, but it is so tiny that it is of no use to us.

I wouldn't know where to start looking for it, I tell him.

Don't you see that small stream! Let's follow it! It must come from somewhere!

I decide that it can't hurt to entertain him a little, and glide along upstream. The stream is so tiny that I wouldn't even be able to fully submerge myself in it. Nevertheless, it is impressive and strange that such a phenomenon can exist below freezing temperature. A welcome distraction from what happened yesterday…

I feel Spirit coil more tightly on my chest and realize I've been subconsciously frowning. What's wrong, big brother?

I'm just a little stressed. That's why we're out here to play! I try and put on a cheerful tone for him.

Did Papa find you and yell at you for flying off with the Noivern?

No! Wait, how did you know that?

After you flew away, Papa and Rue and others were talking, and he said he should scold you. Or something. He feels uncertain relaying me the information, as if feeling afraid for me.

Well, no, I didn't manage to meet up with him. So don't worry about me, okay?

Wait, do you see it? The stream is coming from there!

I look up at his words and notice a crack in a short cliff, from which appears to be the source of the stream we have been following. Landing at the base, I tentatively put my paw up to it, only to feel a mildly cool temperature.

"Huh. It's not that cold."

"That means the hot springs are above it!" Spirit uncoils himself from me and darts straight upwards, his tail shaking in excitement as he disappears over the overhang.

"Wait! Spir!" I rise above the cliff in pursuit and I notice a few ponds, none of which are frozen over. Only some of them are interconnected on the surface, but the fact they are all liquid makes me think that they might share the same source of water underground.

Spirit flies straight into one of them, causing a huge splash. I hover to the edge, only to find him completely submerged as the ripples settle. I dip my paw into the pond, finding that it is not exactly warm… but not exactly cold, either.

"Hey, get down here!" Spirit yells, poking his head out of a different pond, before disappearing below the surface.

I shift myself carefully into the pond, the temperature feeling entirely unnatural to me. It doesn't feel as cold as the sea, nor as warm as Phendrene's scales. Phendrene and her warm - ah, why is my mind going there again…

"What's wrong?" The Dragonair has somehow already returned back to the pond closest to the cliff, perhaps through an underwater channel. "This is so cool! You don't seem that excited."

Shifting my body down so that I am submerged down to my neck, I let the mild warmth soothe me. "It's… you know. I don't know what to do with Phendrene," I finally tell him.

"What do you mean? Do you… like her?" he asks, cocking his head curiously.

"No! I mean, I don't know. Sylvia - the Noivern - showed interest in me, so I said I would meet with her again, but now Rue said I shouldn't because of Phendrene and… someone is going to have to… It's just..."

I'm not sure if my words were intelligible, but Spirit simply asks in return, "Well, just pick one! What's so hard?"

"I wish it was as simple as that," I say as I rub my scales under the water to soothe myself. "I mean… I wasn't sure of anything, I just planned to hang out with Sylvia for a bit to get to know her better… and Rue just told me that Phendrene loves me and that I should go with her! But I don't know, I mean I care about her, but I don't know if I would be her mate, because we… I don't…"

"I don't know why it's so hard," he says simply as he curls himself around my neck. "Let's just forget about it and go take a swim. You're being dumb."

I flinch, and realize a twelve year old that is questioning me. "Wait, why are you trying to lecture me? You haven't even had a relationship before."

"Okay so? Have you?"

His response silences me as it brings my mind to the illusion. I feel an involuntary frown as I close my eyes. "Get off me," I mumble and tug on his body. "Just go swim by yourself. Leave me alone."

"Fine…" Somewhat reluctantly, he uncoils himself and dives beneath the surface, into some underwater tunnel. Seconds later, he resurfaces in another pond and glances at me, but I turn my head away and close my eyes.

I came out here with my brother with the hope that he wouldn't try to lecture me like Rue or Father would. What is wrong with everyone? Can't they just let me deal with it on my own?

I lay against the edge of the pond and open my eyes, looking up to the azure sky. It's a nice view. Not all days are as clean and crisp as this one. There have been cloudy days, foggy days, stormy days… I flew through all of them. So why should I feel unhappy on this day?

I think back to all of the times I took comfort in Phendrene's arms. None of them ever felt wrong. Not when Mother died, not when I lost Aya, not when I found Vie's eggs. Would it be wrong now, then? I do love her back - who wouldn't after all these years together - so why am I feeling conflicted? Sylvia hasn't given half of what Phendrene has gave me, so why would she matter so much?

Maybe the Noivern's meteor reminded me too much of the illusion. And after all this time, my foolish mind still can't let go.

Latias, do you know what you've done to me? Or was that your intention all along? It is, isn't it. You said so yourself. How evil of you.

Thinking about it does not make me feel better. In fact, I feel much worse than before. I slouch down further into the water, such that only my head is exposed. The water actually feels somewhat warmer down below. It's nice…

"Brother! Mrrf!"

Spirit's voice startles me as I instantly stand up straight, a blast of cold assailing my upper body as the water drips from my scales. I turn around to look at the ponds, only to find a beam of ice heading straight for me. I try to levitate myself into the air, but instead I lose balance and faceplant into the water.

I reorient myself and peek out of the surface, spotting enemies that had held me captive back in the palace. The Weavile stands the closest, in a patch of snow between two of the springs. Before I can make out the figures behind him, he fires another shard, which I avoid by ducking beneath the surface. A small piece of ice is left where the shard hits, and I can feel it chilling the water.

Extending an arm forward, I try to raise a wall of water up and over the Weavile, but I find that the pond remains still.

So they have disabled my psychic powers. No matter. I am prepared for this.

Kicking myself off of the pond floor, I leap onto shore and fire a pulse at Weavile. He sidesteps it and prepares another shard, but I predict this and swing my body. My tail hits him square in the chest, knocking him down into the snow and I send a flamethrower right at his body. As he shout in pain, I look before me, and freeze at the sight.

"Ah. Quite a worthy performance for the psychic Flygon," the Scyther says, grinning as he holds his blade at Spirit's throat. Below him, a creature I barely recognize as a Monferno is grabbing Spirit's lower body so strongly that it looks uncomfortable, its gaze focused intensely on me.

My brother's glances at me and back to the Scyther fearfully, not daring to move a single muscle. "Nova, I…"

"What do you say? Get down on the floor and I won't slash his throat out," the Scyther says. "Now."

I briefly consider my options. If I fly away, he will surely execute my brother. If I surrender myself, I may be able to save my brother, but…

"Get. Down." He repeats the phrase once more, pressing his scythe into my brother. The Dragonair lets out a fearful whimper as I see a red streak down his neck.

"Promise me you won't kill him," I manage to ask. "And I will."

He scoffs. "All right. Now get down."

I feel a sense of finality as I look down to the snow below, and I let myself fall. It's cold.

"Ah, good dragon." From my prone position, the Scyther looks even more smug, but what choice do I have? Closing my eyes in resignation, I let my limbs and wings relax as they are grabbed and tied together.

"Good job, Clementine," the Weavile's voice sounds from behind me. "You reacted accordingly and managed to have us capture him."

To my surprise, it is a female voice that responds. "Thank you, sir. I hope we can bring justice to this murderer."

Any other time, I would have scoffed and retorted, but what's the point now? I simply lie still and let them carry on with their conversation.

"Of course," the Weavile answers. "Now we just need to get him back-"

"What about the Dragonair?" Clementine the Monferno asks. "Should we… let him go?"

"Are you stupid?" the Scyther yells. "What if he goes off and brings other dragons?

"R-right."

"Bryce, can you get your ass over here and tie him up too?" the Scyther continues, and the Weavile answers with a sigh before I feel his weight leave my body.

"We'll let him go afterward, right?" Clementine asks. "He didn't kill anyone…"

"Yes, we're not executing a hatchling," Bryce answers.

So they plan to execute me. I thought it might have been something like that. With my father gone, I foresee no way anyone will come and rescue me. ...What about Latias? No, if she were monitoring me, she would have intervened by now. And with my telepathy disabled, there is no way to contact her, either.

Am I really going to be executed like this?

"Why?" I finally speak. "Why do you want to execute me?"

The three creatures' eyes turn to me. The Monferno is the first to speak. "You killed my uncle! Murderer!"

"And he killed my-"

"Don't talk to him," the Scyther interrupts and steps over, his scythe prodding my backside. "Can you guys tie him to that rock over there?"

"Why? We need to bring him back to our base," the Weavile says.

"Just do it!" the Scyther suddenly shouts, as he swings his scythe over the Weavile's head. "We wouldn't have him if not for me, so listen to my fucking orders."

"I'm the same rank as you," Bryce answers in a deadpan voice. "But as you wish."

So I am really going to die, then. My brother, tied up and held by the Monferno, keeps his worried eyes on me, but I cannot maintain my gaze.

My breathing quickens as Bryce shoves me against a boulder and begins tying me to it. He pays no mind to my hyperventilation as my mind goes through all the people I care about. Father's stern gaze, Rue's sarcastic jibes, Phendrene's warm embrace…

I offer no resistance to the Weavile's actions, knowing that it will only give them a reason to abuse me. By the end of it, I have my arms and wings plastered against the rock, with my body bare and open. How humiliating.

"Just get done with it quickly. And don't mess him up too bad, he still needs to be presentable."

"Wait… what are you doing? Are you going to torture him?" Clementine's words bring me out of my thoughts, and I tense up further. Pain… how painful would it be? To be humiliated and tortured before I die…

"Oh for fuck's sake, you sick bug," Bryce spits as he dashes over. "Do you really have to do this shit in front of her? Do you have to do this shit at all?"

"Mind your own business," the Scyther scoffs as he points his scythe straight at the Weavile. "I don't tell you how to live your life."

I pipe up, unable to contain myself. "No, please just kill me, don't-"

"Oh, no worries, dear Flygon," the Scyther answers as he paces over to me, and brings his head close to mine with a disgusting leer on his face. "I won't touch a single scale on you. In fact, you'll be left completely unharmed and presentable," the Scyther says with a snicker before he turns to the others.

"Then why did you ask for him to be-"

Clementine stops speaking as the Scyther walks next to her and extends a scythe out. "Hand over the Dragonair."

"B-but you- your scythes- I thought we wouldn't-"

The Scyther raises his head and looks down at the Monferno with a glare. She freezes, and the Scyther hooks Spirit over roughly with no regard for the Dragonair's safety.

"Ow! Stop!" My brother yells as he rests on a scythe, blood spreading from their point of contact. "That hurts!"

"Stop it!" I try to pull my arms free, but to no avail. "Leave him alone! Please, he's a child! Scyther…"

"Child, huh?" The Scyther turns to me and scowls. "My family had children too, once."

Out of the corner of my eye, the Weavile has dragged the Monferno away. But that doesn't matter. "No! He has nothing to do with it! You promised, you said you wouldn't kill him!"

"Right. And I'm not killing him yet. Just-"

I let out a sudden breath, hitting Scyther square in the face. His arms wave around aimlessly as my brother falls to the floor. "Fly!" I yell to my brother. "Get away from here!"

My brother makes a whimper as he raises his tail, but he is unable to lift himself up as he flops around on ground. Time slows down as I am beheld with the sight of the blood-coated scythe and my brother's futile struggles, and I realize that there is no way out.

"I'll kill you!" I scream at the Scyther as he bends down to pick the Dragonair back up. "Don't you dare!"

The Scyther breathes heavily as he places my brother on a rock. "Why am I talking to a dead person," he mutters and raises his scythe, before swinging it down.

My brother lets out a bloodcurdling howl as gush of red erupts from his body.

"No! Please no! Stop this!" I plead over my brother's screams, but the Scyther merely huffs before stabbing down again.

I struggle in my binds, ignoring the abrasions caused by the friction between the rock and me. I focus my willpower and wish for the binds, for the rock, for anything to come loose - and suddenly I hear a loud crack, feeling the binds in my right arm weaken as I wriggle it free.

Scyther glances back, and his eyes widen before he darts over, his red-coated scythes aimed at me. But with my free limb, I pull up a chunk of dirt through the snow and slam it right in his face, knocking him over.

Of course. My psychic powers may be disabled, but I can still manipulate the earth. My gift as a Flygon is my only way out.

"Sion? What's going on?" The Weavile's voice sounds from behind me, and I know that I have no time to escape my binds before he can incapacitate me with his ice. So I close my eyes and concentrate, as Latias had once taught me to…

And within seconds, the rock behind me dissolves into grains of dust. A million motes brush against my scales as I open my eyes to the sandstorm I have created. My own eyes hidden safe behind my goggles, I glance around in search of my enemies.

"You still have it on you, right?" the Scyther yells through the storm.

"Yes, but we need to retreat, we-"

I leap in the direction of the Weavile's voice. Through their short exchange, I know that the device that nullifies my psychic powers is on the Weavile's body. Mere moments pass before I find myself before the Weavile, slumped over and covering his eyes. I destabilize the earth beneath him, and with a motion of my hand, launch him flying in the direction of the cliff. His alarmed shouts fade into the distance and instinctively I try to levitate myself, and find that my body responds to my mind once more.

"Bryce? Don't tell me you-"

Teleporting in the Scyther's direction, I appear behind him, and take control of his scythe. I don't restrain my power and watch it respond to my telekinetic grip as it twists and contorts, before it finally snaps off. I watch the Scyther fall to the ground as I catch my breath.

But somewhere between the red marks on the blade and the Scyther's own howls of pain, I remember what all of this is for. My brother. My poor, innocent little brother. Willing the sandstorm to come to a stop, I eventually find myself staring at the same scene, only with brown specks all over the snow and water. And over there, a blue dragon lying in a pool of red, silent and unmoving.

"Spirit… Spirit!" I glide over to the scene of carnage, only to feel my heart drop immediately. His serpentine body has already been severed right down the middle, viscous blood still draining out and expanding the crimson puddle he lies in.

There is no hope for him.

I cannot bring myself to continue looking at this sight, and instead turn to the Scyther. He is lying face down in the snow, shivering and tense, completely unaware of my movements.

He is the one who did this.

Manifesting in the air above him, I flip him over immediately. He lets out a groan, but as he eyes meet mine, he only lets out a grin.

"Looks like you enjoyed the dragon sushi, eh?" he taunts, but a breath of fire down at his face makes him yell and cough, all to my pleasure.

Clutching my chest to calm my breathing, I manage to let out a few words. "I will… make your death… as painful as possible." Lowering myself to the floor, I consider tearing off his other limbs, but no. I'll keep them there for now.

To my side, I notice the severed scythe. Grabbing control of it, I levitate it down, its tip prodding at his abdomen. "How about… I carve you out with your own blade?"

The Scyther continues coughing as he opens his eyes, his gaze much less haughty than before. I patiently wait for his response, but a sudden movement from his remaining scythe makes me jump back - only for him to stab it into his own throat.

I am too stunned to move as I watch the life fade from his eyes. Relinquishing my telekinetic grip of the free scythe, it falls to the snow with a light thud. To stop me from torturing him, he has killed himself.

In this moment, I realize why the Scyther did what he did to my brother. It was for revenge. To make up for the horrors that have befallen you, you inflict them on those you deem responsible, and relish in their suffering.

And though the Scyther has escaped my wrath, there are still others who are complicit in this.

Launching myself over the cliff, I survey the snow for any sign of the Weavile. But he is nowhere to be seen, and there is no discernable track in the snow I can follow. Swearing in frustration, I lift myself into the sky and focus my mind to detect all the living minds in my vicinity. And among all the consciousnesses, there is only one with extreme emotional distress, hurrying away from the site of carnage.

With a single flap of my wings, I launch myself in pursuit, and in only a few seconds I manage to spot the orange-furred creature fleeing along a mountain path. From what I can gleam of her mind, her legs are already sore, and her mouth dry, but she continues to run as fast as she can, away from the devilish psychic Flygon. But to a dragon like me, her efforts mean naught, as I swoop down behind her and lift her into the air by the neck.

I feel a smile crawl up on my face. "How do you want to die?" I ask her as she struggles futilely in my grip, her legs kicking at thin air. "Hm?"

"I- I don't want to die! Please, dragon, I didn't know!" Her arms instinctively reach toward her throat as I tighten my grip. "I didn't know the Scyther would do that, I wouldn't have helped if I knew! I'm so sorry, I just wanted to help avenge my uncle! Please, please, don't kill me… I don't want to die…"

My heart pulses, each thud ringing heavily in my chest, as I listen intently to her desperate pleas. In every breath I can vividly feel her desire to live in the face of certain death. Dignity means nothing when your life is about to end, doesn't it…

...my brother?

I feel a tear trickle down from my eye as I begin to heave. The Monferno doesn't seem to notice as she continues to struggle futilely in my grasp. It would so easy to just snap her spine in two, just like I did to the Infernape that had killed Vie - but for some reason, I don't.

Why, Nova? You wanted to kill these people responsible for your brother's death. You can do that now. Why won't you? Isn't this what you wanted?

I find myself losing control of my body as I let out whimpering cry as the tears begin to build up. No, that's not what I really want. What I truly want is to see, to hear, and to feel Spirit alive and well, wrapping himself snugly around my neck as he calls for his big brother to bring him swimming, as we chat about our grumpy father and what the future has in store…

But that Dragonair is no more.

Clutching my chest, I realize that I can no longer pace my breathing. Every gasp of air is a struggle as my subconscious takes over the control of my muscles. I release my grip on the Monferno and fall forward, my arms the only thing stopping my face from planting into the ground. My cries begin to make more and more noise, but I make no effort to restrain them, nor do I care if anyone hears.

If only I never came into the mountains… we would still be swimming, perhaps in the ocean, feeling the pulses of waves around us as we maneuver through them. Then we would go home to Phendrene's prepared food, maybe a lecture from Rue, as we wait for our Father to return…

No. This scene doesn't exist anymore. His life ended in extreme pain and fear, because I couldn't protect him. It's all my fault… How can I face Father? How can I face anyone? If only I was the one who died, not him… If only I wasn't so foolish…

But no, it doesn't matter what I could have done. My brother, the Dragonair named Fly-Spirit, is already dead, and nothing matters anymore.

Nothing...