Another quick update. But I swear on the River Styx that I'll take a day off tomorrow. I don't want to overwhelm you guys, after all, but this is only the fifth chapter.

I would like to thank everyone who has read this far and gotten me to over 400 views. I consider that a good start, and we've got a long way to go! Enjoy, and don't forget to join the PMD Writers' Union Discord, the link to which you can find elsewhere. If you just want to talk to ME, the tag is SnowLabrador #7822.

Current music: Veruca Salt - Danny Elfman

BLADEN'S POV

I still remember that fateful day.

It had been three short days, three long nights since my parents had left on their quest to climb Mount Coronet. Three days since Lennox and I had been, for all intents and purposes, alone at home.

Given that we had no contact with either of our parents, we tried to make the best of it. Lennox threw himself into the role of decorating our home for Christmas, a holiday of unknown origin that was nonetheless taken very seriously in our part of Sinnoh. And why wouldn't it be, given that the days were so short and dark? We needed something to cheer us up.

The interior of our home, with its red carpet, crackling fireplace, and spruce tree adorned in various ornaments and lights, warmed my heart. Lennox and I had spent the last several hours baking Christmas cookies, even though it was still late morning. Oh well, what can I say? Since it was a special occasion, wasn't it okay to have dessert first?

"I wish we had Mom and Dad with us" I told my brother as he was taking the cookies out of the oven.

Once Lennox had placed the tray on the counter, he turned to me and gave a sad smile.

"Same here," he said. "But what can you do? They're living their dream, and the best we can do is to hold down the fort until they get back. And I have faith that they will."

To me, the word "faith" had a negative connotation, at least in this case. It suggested that there was nothing we could do but fervently hope for the return of Mom and Dad, while not taking any more tangible actions than that.

Of course, he was right. We couldn't help them from here.

About ten minutes later, when the cookies had started to cool down and Lennox was reaching into the cupboard for the frosting and sprinkles, it happened.

The doorbell rang.

I tried to put a positive spin on it. For all I knew, maybe our parents had conquered the summit in record time and returned to the village in time to help decorate the cookies. "Maybe they're back" were my exact words.

Lennox gave me a smile; admittedly, it wasn't a happy one. "I hope you're right, Bladen. I really do."

So maybe the climb had been easier than expected. My hopes were higher than a private jet - my parents would no doubt be exhausted, but they'd have something to celebrate upon walking through that door.

I used my front right paw to open the door. Really, this was a job for my brother, but I did it anyway.

Standing on the other end of the door was Priest Thorn. The Ice-type Sandslash carried a large tome in his arms - a copy of the Book of Arceus. He wore a dark purple cloak, the kind I recognized immediately.

It was the cloak he wore for funerals.

This can't be happening, I told myself. It's just a dream. I'll wake up and my family will be whole again.

But the copious amounts of cookie dough I'd eaten earlier felt like iron weights in my stomach. As delicious as it had tasted going down, the thought of eating any baked cookies made me want to puke. In fact, the nausea was already real.

"Good morning, Priest Thorn" I told the Sandslash.

Priest Thorn bowed at me. "Good morning, Bladen. How have you and your brother been holding up?"

"Uh…it's been going fine" I mumbled, trying to get back to a mental happy place where things had been "going fine."

"That is good," the priest replied. "Unfortunately, I have to talk to you both."

"Did we commit a mortal sin or something?" I asked. Quite frankly, if the priest was here to talk about sins we'd committed in the eyes of Arceus, I could at least take "comfort" in the knowledge that I was paying for my own mistakes. That it had all been in my control. (Though that's really not comforting in the slightest.)

Lennox walked over to the door, still wearing his apron. It was stained with flour, but his face was grave. (Which, in all honesty, is the perfect word to use, given the circumstances.)

"What's going on…wait, Priest Thorn?"

The Sandslash nodded, his icy blue spikes shaking. "Yes, it is me. And I'm not one to beat around the bush: As both of you know, it's rarely good news when I show up to a door."

I started shaking, and my knees came close to buckling. This served as the final confirmation that Priest Thorn wasn't here to partake in Christmas cookies.

The priest sighed. "I…regret to inform you that unfortunately, we have received news that your parents were caught in an avalanche on Mount Coronet. There were other victims, too, and I will be speaking to their families. But…".

At that news, I leaped forward and attached myself to Priest Thorn's back. I'm not proud of what I did, but I began shaking.

"You'd better do something!" I yelled. "If there's an avalanche, you need to order them to bomb the snow all away or something!"

"Please get off me" Priest Thorn responded, surprisingly stoic despite my invasion of his personal space. I let go and then turned to look at the Sandslash's face.

"Bladen, bombing the side of a mountain is only likely to lead to another avalanche, which would bury them deeper. And besides, how would we get the dynamite all the way there?"

I shook my head morosely. Had I been thinking more clearly, I would have rejected that plan out of hand. Really, you couldn't call it a "plan" at all, just an "idea."

Priest Thorn also shook his head, tilting it towards the ground. And this is what he said:

"I wouldn't be here if I thought there was a chance to save their lives. Indeed, the official purpose of the mission has shifted from rescue to recovery. Nobody can survive underneath an avalanche for very long, and it's been over an hour since we received the news."

At that point, my knees did buckle, and I would have landed spread-eagle on the ground if Lennox hadn't scooped me up in his arms. He lifted me up like a baby, which was a bit embarrassing. But again, that mattered far less than what the priest was telling us.

"So they're gone," Lennox said. It was a statement, not a question.

Priest Thorn nodded. "I'm sorry to tell you both that you're alone."

Three months later, I awoke in a far less comfortable bed. More specifically, it wasn't a bed at all, just a bunch of dirt and snow beneath an overhang.

I shivered, not just from the cold, but from the nightmare I'd just experienced as well. No, it wasn't a nightmare; it was real.

How can something be a nightmare when you wake up to a reality that's even worse? No matter how bad things might get, there is always further to fall.

My parents are both gone. And not only that, but Lennox is dead as well. I am well and truly alone in this vast wilderness, unless I make a friend in the woods somewhere.

The period of sleep hadn't done me much good. On the contrary, I felt even colder and more tired than I had before hunkering down in this little cave. When I sat up quickly, nearly bumping my head on the ceiling, dark spots danced before my eyes.

Get some water in you, I coached myself. That's what he would have told me to do, at any rate.

Unfortunately, both of my remaining water bottles had frozen over. They were useless now, unless I could find a way to melt the ice. And even then, the water would be so cold that it might hurt to drink.

Okay then. Maybe my last option is to eat snow for water. But that would be even colder, and certainly not an efficient way to stay hydrated.

Eating a piece of berry leather only made me more thirsty, but hunger would cause its own problems, so I forced myself to do it anyway. It was practically tasteless.

Something about eating, about doing anything that might create pleasure or even just sustain my own life felt extremely selfish. It was disrespectful to those I'd lost.

No. It isn't. They would want you to stay alive. And eating is part of what it takes to stay alive.

I hoisted my backpack upward, feeling it cushion my back against the impact with the cave's ceiling. And then I squeezed my way out of there, exposing myself to the elements once again.

The sun was slowly rising over the snow-covered landscape. The sky was gold, casting light over the white stuff so that it glowed a brilliant amber. There were also a few shadows that appeared blue.

Perhaps after my dream, this should have been a reassuring sight. It should have been a reminder that life had to continue, no matter how painful it was to relive the moment I'd felt the most helpless I ever had.

But it had the opposite effect. The unquestionable beauty of the landscape made me feel as though I were being mocked. The universe wanted to flaunt that it still had reason to be happy, even if I was far from pleased.

Trekking across the snow-covered landscape, sinking into the deep snow with every step, was about the last thing I wanted to do. But the most important thing was reaching civilization - perhaps there, I'd be able to get help.

But what help would I expect?

That was the million-Poké question. I didn't even know what to wish for. Food and shelter would be helpful, but those things wouldn't bring my brother back. Nothing would. And if I was offered cookies, that would be even more of a slap in the face.

With every step through the snow, my heart grew heavier and heavier. How long until it sank to the center of Nexus? How long before my feet turned to concrete, leaving me with no motivation whatsoever?

The worst realization came after an hour or two on the "road." By this time the sun was higher in the sky; despite this, a light snow had begun to fall from the clouds that had gathered around it.

While my geography wasn't the best, and not much news from other towns tended to reach Spruce Village, an avalanche on Mount Coronet would surely have been news elsewhere on the continent. If so, how would the media treat the story of Lennox disappearing on the mountain?

They're not going to cover it. They'll just say there was a climber declared dead in the middle of the dungeon (though they'll avoid the D-word, that being "dungeon"), and they'll move on. They're not going to mention Lennox's name, and they certainly won't try to implicate me in all this.

That is, of course, what I wanted to believe. However, as with many things the last few months, anything that could go wrong, would go wrong.

I'm probably going to be wanted in Spruce Village for murdering my brother. It won't matter that there isn't a body to be found - the fact is that I came back and he didn't!

And what's more, they wouldn't be wrong.

My stomach churned, and I ended up vomiting in the snow. All the berry leather I'd managed to force down upon first awakening was deposited on the ground, the dark blue leather mixing with the white stuff so that it resembled a stained tablecloth.

Well, there go those calories. And I need calories desperately if I am to keep my strength up.

Plus, if I go back to Spruce Village without Lennox, they're going to arrest me. And what am I going to come up with? What story could exonerate me? No matter what, I can't go back there!

Once I had fully emptied my stomach, my mouth tasting as sour as I could ever remember it, I managed to stand back to my full height, as pathetic as it was. This time, my legs wobbled as I moved forward.

I think that's when I realized that I was in real trouble. Not just legally (in the sense that if I reached a village, I'd be seen as a potential criminal), but also physiologically (in the sense that I needed sustenance, and that would be hard to come by.)

I kept striding through the snow as elegantly as I could muster. I'd like to say that my steps were even and forceful, but they weren't. From a Flying-type's view, I would have looked utterly pathetic.

The day wore on, and the landscape blended together to no small degree. After a while, everything looked the same, and I almost wondered if this meadow had become a Mystery Dungeon. Given my shitty luck, that would make too much sense.

For more than a day, I did not eat. I did not sleep either, simply because there was nowhere suitable to make a bed.

I didn't find any other caves to hunker down in. They were either too well hidden beneath the snow, or (more likely) they simply didn't exist in such a wide, open space.

Normally a giant snowy field brings to mind possibility and opportunity, like a giant sheet of paper to draw on. But in this case, I felt more trapped than ever. The giant, homogeneous landscape served as a reminder that no matter how hard I tried, I could not escape my cold reality.

The sun moved across the sky, then started to set. Of course, that was just an illusion caused by my own planet spinning. This may seem like a random observation, but that's what happens when you have nothing else to think about.

Once night came, the air grew even colder. The cold wind felt like knives against my fur. Arceus and his weather demons (or whatever controlled the air temperature) had decided that slicing my fur and flesh into ribbons would be fun.

I couldn't find any trees to rest under, and even then, that probably wouldn't have been wise. I'd heard stories of Pokémon falling into tree wells; just because the snow around a tree looked solid, that didn't mean it was solid. It could be primed to give way, just like that.

So, with no better options, I forged onward, losing more and more feeling in my limbs with every hour. Although there were many stars in the sky, they didn't provide any light - at least, none that would make the darkness feel less absolute.

The night was long, cold, and deafening. Wind has a strange sound - it's a lot louder than you expect it to be. It howled, hungry like a Lycanroc, priming the wilderness to devour me like the tastiest morsel at Christmas dinner.

More than once, I lost feeling in my toes, and I was forced to stop and scrunch them up in order to regain it. That didn't work; at least, not well enough. But it gave me just enough warmth to keep limping along.

The third or fourth time this happened, I stopped dead in my tracks. By now, I held out hope that sunrise couldn't be more than an hour or two away. Even so, it was as dark and cold as ever.

The sensation in my lower legs had vanished, and this time it wasn't coming back so quickly. I tried to wiggle my paws, but that only resulted in my body pitching forward; I had to act instantly to keep from getting a faceful of snow.

So I rolled sideways, landing flat on my back as I looked up at the sky. It was slowly growing lighter, ever so slowly. The stars were fading, but not fast enough for me.

This navy blue color…they say that's the color those mythical creatures used to wear in the maritime military. Those creatures…they were called "humans", were they not?

Of course, they used to exist in large numbers. They just don't anymore. It's just like my family - at one time they lived, showering the world in their beautiful sparks.

And now those sparks are gone. I guess fires that burn that bright aren't meant to last.

I shivered until my eyes closed. As I did so, I knew there was a high probability that I'd never wake up again. Or maybe, if I did wake up, I'd see my family again.

Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. I'll be able to talk to my parents once more. I'll get down on my knees and beg Lennox for forgiveness - maybe he'll absolve me of my sins, maybe he won't.

My limbs shook, and the tingling sensation grew markedly. By now they were so numb that they were almost warm. Indeed, I could practically imagine myself lying next to a furnace, even though in reality I lay supine in the middle of a snowfield.

It wasn't long until I entered the void.

NIKOLAI'S POV

"But it's so early, Nikolai! And it's really cold for spring!"

My sister's protests fell on willfully deaf ears. I shook my head as I glanced around the loft - the room beneath the ceiling where we slept.

I frowned. "You're a Glaceon, Natalia. You're the last 'mon who should be complaining about the cold."

"I wasn't complaining about the cold!" Natalia exclaimed, loudly enough to make me flinch. "I'm merely pointing out that it's stupid for you to go out in this weather, when you could easily get hypothermia!"

"I'll dress warmly. And my flame is going to keep me warm - I believe that for a fact."

My sister glared at me from her end of the room. She didn't appear livid, exactly, but it was clear that she thought I was an idiot who might put myself in danger.

When Natalia did not respond, I continued with the following words: "You're well aware that I know Whitecap Town like the back of my paw. I'm not going to get lost."

"Why are you arguing so much, you two?"

Both of us swiveled around in the direction of our mother. While our spat was important between my sister and I, we ultimately knew our place. At least, that's what our mother insisted on.

The elder Glaceon wore a scowl on her face. She raised an eyebrow, and I immediately felt the wrath of a million snowflakes.

"We were just debating the wisdom of Nikolai's morning walk. It's the coldest day of March so far, and we just had a snowstorm."

"He can take care of himself, Natalia. You two are both seventeen, practically adults at this point. There's no need to keep him from what he enjoys."

I was about to cheer silently when Mom turned to me and continued. "That doesn't absolve you of wrongdoing, Nikolai. You have to realize that you're too old to be arguing with your sister about such petty things. So please, end it. Now."

Since our mother had taken my side, I didn't exactly complain. Before I could talk myself out of it, maybe by convincing myself that it was indeed too cold, I headed out the door.

It was morning in Whitecap Town, and it was the same temperature I'd expected: Absolutely freezing. Despite this, I had a spring in my step as I jogged down the street.

Whitecap Town consisted mostly of white marble buildings set against the blue sky. It had to have been highly impractical to get all of the material, mined from the area far beneath Kanto, all the way up to Central Sinnoh. But it gave the buildings a unique look, so what could I say?

Despite the early hour and frigid weather, many Pokémon were out and about. Some of them carried shopping bags from the town's bazaar, whereas others were probably heading to Sunday services at the local Church of Arceus diocese. Most of them, however, gave me a friendly wave as I passed by.

I didn't reciprocate. Yes, I know that's rude, but I just had no way of knowing if they were genuine waves or not. Perhaps they wanted something from me - did they think I had something they needed?

It wasn't long before I reached the old town of Whitecap. The white marble buildings mostly gave way to yellow stucco walls, which served more as a tourist destination than an actual neighborhood - not that we got many tourists, of course.

The scent of fresh snow mixed with the stench of old manure. I thanked the Lord above that it wasn't hot out, quite the opposite - the smell would have been far worse.

And, in the middle of the old town, there stood the most prominent building in Whitecap. While this part of town was somewhat like a maze, there was no mistaking the guild hall when you saw it.

It was roughly the size of the local high school, consisting of four floors and extending a considerable distance horizontally. A stone fountain stood in front of said building, featuring a bust of Arceus; after all, they used to say that the Hall of Origin stood atop Mount Coronet!

Under most circumstances, I wouldn't have bothered to enter the compound. While the idea of being an explorer appealed to me, signing up required being part of a team. And who did I have to join me?

Not my sister. We bickered too much to make a useful pair, and even then, members of a team weren't allowed to be blood relatives with one another. Why this rule existed, I had no idea.

Anyway, on this particular morning, I was walking past the entrance to the guild hall's compound when another voice made itself known.
"Nikolai! It's you!"

It was a voice I recognized, and I didn't even need to turn in its direction. The bearer strode right in front of me, shaking from head to toe, his eyes wide open as though he'd had too much caffeine.

"Rowan Walrein!" I exclaimed, coming face to face with someone I'd spoken to in the store once. "You almost gave me a heart attack right there!"

"I-I'm sorry" Rowan replied, his teeth chattering. "I didn't mean to - not at all."

"If you didn't want to startle me, maybe you could have thought about how I'd react first" I all but snapped. "It's not fun to feel like you're on a roller coaster when you aren't."

"Well, why are you in such a h-hurry?" the Walrein asked. "It's n-not l-l-like you have anywhere to go!"

Yes, in a way, he was doubling down. But at the same time, Rowan had a point. It was Sunday, the day of rest. Some of the more devout believers in Whitecap Town thought it was a sin to work on this day. (Admittedly, I wasn't one of them.)

If he's a potential friend, I don't want to throw that chance away. I don't want to miss out on his companionship - I could use all the friends I can get.

Don't think about friends right now. Rowan wants an answer.

"Why do you want me here?" I enquired. "Is there something you need from me?"

Rowan nodded feverishly. Then, using the same philosophy as ripping a bandage off (i.e., get the pain over with quickly), he broke the news.

"Do you want to form a team?"

I recoiled at the suggestion.

"No!" I bellowed.

That was the wrong way to go with it, though. Rowan grimaced, then hung his chin down in a frown. The point is, he wasn't thrilled by my answer.

Tears filled the Walrein's eyes, and he gazed up at me like a Lillipup about to be put down. I didn't know what to say, though; how did I justify shutting him out like that?

I don't need to think too hard. I'll just tell him sorry, but I want to know my teammates better before we join forces.

"But you need someone to form a team" Rowan said, evidently trying his best not to bawl. "And you're the only 'mon I can go to!" (Upon the second half of his statement, he lost the battle in terms of not crying.)

"Rowan, you know this is a big town, right? There are so many other 'mon around!"

"But I trust you most," the Walrein told me simply.

I felt bad about denying him. I really did. But I also felt like laughing dryly at the thought that Rowan trusted me more than anyone else. Someone he barely knew. If this had been the plot of a screenplay, it would have been rejected; it just wouldn't be believable.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Before I could regret it, I swiftly turned tail and jogged out of the guild's compound. At that point, I had no real destination in mind; only away from the consequences of my rudeness towards Rowan Walrein.

As enticing as it sounded to be an adventurer, as much as it would make life in Whitecap Town a little more exciting, I faced the same problem as Rowan. I may not have been as brazen in trying to solve it as the Walrein was, but if my sister wasn't an option, it would be very difficult to get an exploration team going. And flying solo wasn't a choice - it wasn't only dangerous (well, more so), but it was also illegal.

By the time I had snapped out of my reverie, I had left the town limits entirely. I stood in the snowy field, looking out into the distant mountains of the Coronet Range. The sun illuminated the snow, making the whole scene a nature artist's fantasy.

But there was also a crowd. It had gathered around something, dozens if not hundreds of Pokémon gawking at all the commotion. What was happening?

"He's unconscious…".

"The poor thing. Doesn't look like he's had anything to eat or drink for a while. And he's cold to the touch. Should we get him to the hospital?"

"I don't think it's wise to move him. We'd have to be very careful not to injure him further."

"But he'll die if we leave him here. We'll take him to the clinic, someone needs to get a stretcher ready."

I was no medical expert, but I knew those words well. They could mean one thing, and one thing only: Someone was in dire straits.

I worked my way to the front of the crowd, ducking and weaving in between the couples holding hands, the Machamp blocking the way, and many other Pokèmon. I heard some complaints of rudeness, that I was just barging through and had no reason to do so, etc.

But then, I saw him.

A Zorua, lying in the snow, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Without knowing exactly what he'd been through, I couldn't analyze his medical needs (that was my parents' specialty, not mine), but even I knew that the creature before me was a picture of suffering.

"That's just not right," I muttered, surveying the way the dark gray fur of the Zorua had lightened considerably. "He's just a kid, and all this happened to him."

One of the other townspeople, a Lucario whose name I didn't know, frowned at me. "With all due respect, Flareon, we don't know how it happened. It could be that Zorua here took some risks he shouldn't have."

The Lucario's mate (or at least, the female Lucario who held the other one's paw in her own) grimaced. "How could you be so heartless, Lucas?"

"It's not heartless to point out reality, Lucia! A child like that has no business in the middle of the wilderness, especially not this time of year!"

I had a sinking feeling that if the two Lucario were a couple, their relationship wouldn't last very long after this. Of course, there were more relevant matters at hand. Case in point, the Zorua in the snow.

"If nobody's going to help him, I will," I snapped.

There were some gasps from the crowd, all of whom appeared faceless to me. I didn't care to distinguish them from one another, since they'd all made the same decision, and what a despicable one at that !

"You're not qualified to do so!" an Audino remarked in a voice rather like poisoned honey. "I am, on the other hand, so…".

I glared at the Audino. "Well, I don't see you doing anything! All the qualifications in the world mean nothing if you're a coward!"

Before anyone could stop me, I reached the Zorua, bent down, and tried to secure him to my back. This was, of course, impossible without any straps, and I didn't have a stretcher or anything. The next best thing was…

"Do any of you have a sled I could borrow?" I all but shouted.

"What do you need that for?" came a bellowing voice from the crowd, which seemed to belong to a Medicham (judging by the voice alone.)

I rolled my eyes, even though the Medicham probably couldn't see that I was doing so. "I'll pull him to the hospital, like the ski patrol do at the resorts in Coronet City." (And yes, even though humans were few and far between, Pokémon could still operate the lifts and whatnot. We made it work, because that's what we do.)

No sleds were forthcoming, so in the end, I resorted to desperate measures. I knew that by doing so, I might only end up hurting the poor kid more, but he simply had to be seen, no matter what.

I grabbed onto the Zorua's fur with one of my claws, careful not to dig in too deeply; my parents had always taught me that lacerations could be incredibly dangerous when your body was as exhausted as this creature's must have been. And then I started pulling.

I probably bungled the job a little. Had the Zorua been conscious, he no doubt would have had a few choice words for me.

Don't get me wrong, there were a few involuntary groans, but for the most part, the kid didn't object to being hauled around like a sack of potatoes. If anything (and I'm not trying to play the victim here), it was harder on me.

Before long, I was huffing and puffing, my legs and lungs burning. I'm not exactly a weakling, but carrying around a Pokémon almost my size was tiring, to say the least. And I was all too aware of the numerous odd glances directed my way.

Don't give them the time of day. They're not potential friends, not by a long shot. So don't worry about what they think.

Nonetheless, I felt their eyes bore into my heart as I kept pulling the Zorua through the slick streets. Slipping and sliding, I must have looked like a drunkard or idiot (or both!)

Probably the most glaring indictment of the community in which I grew up was that nobody helped me. Even though so many other Pokémon noticed my struggle, not a single one of them offered to lend me a paw.

I had one goal in mind, but it was a long way home. What was more, how could I really call it "home" when everyone else was so hostile?

Oddly enough, the injustice is what kept me going. Nobody wanted to help me, so the only thing I could do was help myself. And I didn't rest until I reached the hospital doors.