Chapter 50: Winter Blues II

Celeste’s mind felt soft, and as the song and the cold faded, her fingers tightened reflexively around Powder’s delicate fur.

“Polaris,” a voice cut through the mist. A man with silver hair and dark skin emerged, his green eyes sparkling in an unseen sunshine. A goofy smile played on his lips. He looked exactly like Rey—or at least, a slightly older version of him, perhaps in his mid to late twenties. “Come on, stop playing around.”

Celeste squinted. “Is this…?”

“… Oliver,” Rey confirmed, moving to her side, his eyes in another universe.

Luan stepped into view, too. As usual, his Munna was atop his head, but the Hoothoot and Lunatone were nowhere to be found. In fact, Rey’s Capsakid was missing too.

“We’re in Articuno’s dream,” Luan announced. “I told you it was going to work.”

Around them, clouds of pink, swirling mist thinned under the breeze, intermittently revealing slices of sky and lush vegetation. Ice sculptures and rocky walls framed them, but the dreaming bird remained unseen.

“So… I’ve never really been inside someone’s dream before…” Celeste said, eyeing the Munna uneasily. “What are the rules?”

“Now you ask,” Rey muttered.

“We were kind of busy with staying alive earlier,” she shot back, Powder barking in agreement. Across from her, Luan’s Munna narrowed his eyes. His stare was unnerving.

“Yeah, taking a nap in the cold is great for surviving,” Rey retorted.

Waving his arms, Luan interjected, “Don’t start it, you two. Look… dreams… they give us time. Sure, we are freezing to death in the real world, but in here… in this dreamscape, we have time. We can figure out a way to talk to Articuno. Then everything… it will be all right!”

“So what are these rules anyway?” Rey asked, crossing his arms.

Luan glanced at his Psychic-type, who was absentmindedly blowing his trunk as he turned back to his trainer. “Umm… Rev hasn’t really done this before, so we aren’t… totally sure. But he says we just let Articuno dream. If things turn bad, he can intervene… Probably…”

“Good enough for me!” Celeste beamed while Rey let out a deep, long breath.

As the mist cleared further, the sky finally came into full view. From above, amidst the clouds, Articuno dived down majestically, trailed by a group of Frosmoth and an awkwardly floating Glalie. The bird twisted and turned, weaving through the ice sculptures with elegance and precision. Oliver, clearly entertained, rested his hands on his hips, watching as the other Pokémon followed—and most of the times crashed on the way. Eventually, Articuno made his way to him, choosing to perch atop a nearby ice sculpture.

The sculpture was a Vanillite, rendered at twice the size of Articuno himself. Each crystal in it sparkled brightly, and the head was crowned with a cap of fresh snow. True to form, Lite’s expression was the characteristic frown Celeste came to expect from Olga’s Pokémon.

Was he even Olga’s?

Articuno extended a wing, as if to encourage the other Pokémon to keep practising, before turning his attention back to Oliver.

Chuckling, the older Silverwind said, “Between flight lessons and ice sculpting, you’ve certainly kept yourself busy, my friend.”

The bird chirped in response, preening his feathers with evident pride.

“So, I assume your travels have been quite eventful this year? Anything special you’d like to share?”

In response, Articuno glanced towards the Vanillite statue and flapped his wings excitedly.

“You crafted this statue because he’s your favourite, right?” Oliver raised an eyebrow, his expression just like Rey’s.

Then, seemingly intent on contradicting Celeste’s thoughts, he plopped himself on the ground with a casualness that Rey would’ve never had. He grinned up at Articuno and teased, “That’s hardly surprising. Lite’s is everyone’s favorite. But…” His eyes twinkled. “I might have my own news if you don’t.”

Just then, a breeze stirred, ruffling the crest of feathers atop Articuno’s head.

“This year, we built a new port,” Oliver began. “It’s bustling with ships from nearby islands, bringing food, medicine, even for our Pokémon. Our little community is flourishing. And the people…” He paused, drawing in a deep breath. “They wish to express their gratitude to you. We’re planning to light candles and set them adrift in the ocean as you depart this year. This way we light your path, as you once lit ours.”

Articuno remained silent, but the sky above began to blush with pink clouds. This was a good dream, an echo of happier times, and Celeste felt a surge of joy in her heart. They were all dreaming this dream together, after all.

Oliver let the sparkle in his eyes grow as a smirk crossed his face. “By the way…” he started in a conversational tone, “how are your brother and sister? Have you been treating them well?”

At the mention of his siblings, Articuno averted his gaze, feigning indifference.

Undeterred, Oliver’s smirk widened. “A sailor from Caldera shared an interesting tale with me. You know Caldera, right? The big island up north with the volcano?”

The legendary bird nodded, leaning in with curiosity.

“He claimed that the volcano’s peak froze a few days ago.”

Articuno continued to nod, but as Oliver paused, a look of realisation dawned on the bird’s face, eyes widening in shock.

“But that’s not all, Polaris,” Oliver added, raising a finger and beckoning Articuno closer. “Right after it froze, the volcano erupted! The people of Caldera swear they saw the legendary bird of ice fleeing the scene. Imagine that—a local deity stirring up trouble like that.”

The legendary cooed loudly and in protest. He was like a child caught with their hands in a jar of biscuits.

Suppressing his laughter, Oliver leaned back. “So, your sister needed to cool down, is that it?” He watched as Articuno bobbed his head vigorously, then his expression sobered. “You do realise people could have been hurt, right? And Pokémon too—Shellder and Seel live nearby. I know you care about those.”

The other Pokémon, having finished their laps around the statues, looked on with curiosity. Celeste herself was captivated. She knew Oliver Silverwind was close to Articuno—or at least she believed when Rey said so—but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely. A man, not much older than them, chatting with a Legendary Pokémon as if they were old friends, was unbelievable.

“You know, back in Orre, we had Pokémon as powerful as you,” Oliver mused, stretching and moving closer to Articuno. “The desert was unforgiving, of course. But I often think that if Landorus and his brothers hadn’t been constantly at odds, life for us mortals might have been a bit easier. Fewer sandstorms, at least.”

Articuno chirped again, perhaps with excitement or maybe just eager to shift the topic.

“You’re glad I left Orre, are you?” Oliver laughed heartily. “I was a man living in a desert with a Vanillite. I suppose I was always meant to leave.” He then turned towards Celeste and her friends, his eyes flickering as if trying to focus on something unseen. “Speaking of which… where’s—”

Abruptly, the world blinked, plunging into darkness.

“…Vanillite…” Celeste heard Oliver’s distant, muffled voice. “He should be here…”

Turning around, she saw a man—a boy—with silver hair, dark skin, and green eyes. But the goofy smile was absent. “Va-Vanillite!” he shouted desperately, his face was smeared with blood and snow crunched under his steps.

Ice crept along his path, relentless and cold.

Not too far, tents lay flattened, remnants of a familiar festival now engulfed by the ice. The battlefield, exactly the same where Celeste had fought during the Snowflake Cup, had transformed into a crater. The town hall, barely recognisable, was encased in a frozen shell.

“L-l-lite!” the voice echoed again.

The air was thick with static, as if these were scenes flickering on an old television screen.

Another flash, and Celeste found herself back beside her friends.

Above, amidst the clouds, Articuno dived down majestically, trailed by a group of Frosmoth, an awkward Glalie, and… Vanillite. The bird twisted and turned, weaving through the ice sculptures with elegance and precision, closely followed by the determined little ice cone.

Oliver, clearly entertained, rested his hands on his hips, watching as the other Pokémon followed—and most of the times crashed on the way. Vanillite, the only one matching Articuno’s nimbleness, eventually joined the legendary bird atop his own oversized statue.

He stared down at his likeness as Oliver spoke of the port he’d built…

Blinking rapidly, Celeste refocused and… Vanillite was gone again. A heaviness settled in her heart, and the once-pink clouds turned ominously black.

“What… the hell… just happened?!” she yelled. The Munna glared intensely at her, but her friends appeared unaware of anything strange.

“I think Oliver is friends with Articuno,” Luan said casually.

“No!” Celeste’s voice rose in frustration, her body feeling cold and weak. “I mean… those visions… Four Island, destroyed? And Lite—was he here or not? He wasn’t, then he was, now he’s gone again!”

“Lite…?” Rey repeated, puzzled. “He was never here, Celeste.”

“But… he was looking at his statue—”

She gestured toward it, but the statue now depicted a Cubchoo, not a Vanillite. Desperately, she turned to Powder, but her Vulpix just tilted her head, confused.

Damn.

She looked up at the Munna, intending to question him, but blatantly ignoring her, the psychic flew off towards the encroaching dark mist.

“Calm down…” Luan tried, placing a hand on her shoulder and nodding towards his Pokémon, now inhaling the mist. “When dreams turn to nightmares, the Dream Mist turns darker. Rev’s got it.”

From the small opening on his forehead, the Munna exhaled a stream of pink purified mist, which brought some comfort to Celeste.

“But…” she whispered weakly.

“Dreams are subjective,” Luan continued with a nervous smile, though most of their surroundings had lightened. “Maybe you misinterpreted something?”

Rey shrugged, then turned around as the pink mist parted once more.

“Scene’s changed. Is this another dream?” he asked, watching as vibrant, sweet-smelling winter flowers began blooming at his feet.

—*——*—

As the mist dissolved, they found themselves in a garden—the same one they were in reality, but now more beautiful than ever. The snow lay thick and untouched, a pristine white blanket from which a myriad of flowers blossomed.

The ground resembled a painter’s palette, alive with colour.

“I don’t get it…” Luan murmured, his gaze fixed on the Munna beside him.

Rey crossed his arms. “What’s wrong now?”

“It’s… n-nothing!” Luan stammered.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Luan…” Rey pressed.

The other boy shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure what’s wrong… neither is Rev.”

Celeste felt the Munna’s gaze on her again, but remained silent. Not far off, she noticed Oliver and Articuno, alongside a young child. Nearby, several logs were stacked, with Oliver busily engaged in some task.

“Talk to us,” Rey prompted.

Luan gestured around them. “Like I said, this is Articuno’s dream. Dreams usually aren’t under our conscious control, which is why a Pokémon like Munna or Drowzee can easily take over them. But Rev says that’s not the case with Articuno.”

“He’s a Legendary…” Celeste muttered, her eyes now fixed back on the munna.

“That’s what makes it strange,” Luan continued. “If I could control my dreams, I wouldn’t let them turn into nightmares… And why was that scene even a nightmare? Articuno looked happy.”

Rey raised an eyebrow skeptically, grumbling about just moving on. Celeste almost chuckled; Rey, when not being pretentious, was quite like his mother, but interestingly, neither seemed to share much of their personality with Oliver.

Approaching Articuno, Celeste let Powder roam freely. The Vulpix darted around with joy, sniffing the flowers, only occasionally glancing back at her trainer, as if to ensure everything was still alright. Her delight in the snow, away from the chaos of battle, was unmistakable.

Powder really deserved to enjoy herself.

“Don’t wander off,” Celeste told her Pokémon with a small smile, then turned her attention back to what was unfolding before them

The child ahead, nestled on thick blankets spread on the ground, was a Silverwind in every aspect: silver locks, bright green eyes, and dark skin. Any lingering doubts about her parentage vanished when Celeste and her friends noticed the cot Oliver was constructing.

Well… calling it a cot might have been generous.

Oliver’s creation was a roughly hollowed-out log, with splinters scattered around and uneven legs. The decorative piece he was carving on top resembled an amorphous blob more likely to inspire nightmares than sweet dreams.

“Come on, it’s not that bad!” Oliver protested. Oddly, Articuno paid no heed to his friend’s carpentry, his attention solely to the child. The Legendary swished his tail like an artist wielding a brush, leaving glittering ice trails in its wake, forming shapes in the air.

Snorunt.

Glaceon.

With each creation, the child’s giggles rang out, making Celeste feel like joining in with her own applause.

Vanillite.

The applause was louder for this one, and Articuno’s eyes softened at the sound. The child reached towards the tail with small, stubby arms, which the Legendary bird often allowed to be touched.

A sense of warmth permeated the world, echoing with children’s laughter. Yet, Celeste’s eyes remained on the vanillite drawing, still lingering in the air.

Why was it always Vanillite?

She blinked, and darkness enveloped her once more.

“I challenge you to a battle!” a voice called out. Turning, Celeste saw who she thought should be Rey, but different—his hair shorter, his face wearier.

“Me?” she asked, frowning.

Rey didn’t respond. Instead, he released a Pokémon from his ball: a… Was that a Vanilluxe…? Both faces frowned at her and a large crack at the base of their body clicked.

As she blinked in disbelief, the world switched again. Celeste was once more watching Articuno entertain the child.

“Come on, it’s not that bad!” Oliver protested… again.

This time with his own Vanillite grimacing at the cot’s state.

“Why did you make me think this was easy, Polaris?” the man said, eventually. “My wife will be so disappointed!”

Vanillite puffed a cloud of ice in response.

“And it seems Lite is unimpressed too,” Oliver sighed, surveying his handiwork before a smirk crept onto his face. He winked at his Pokémon, then turned back to Articuno, “Then again, I bet wood is so much harder to sculpt than ice.”

Articuno looked away for a moment, then raised his head with a proud, almost smug tilt, creating sharp ice shards. These shards, as if they had a life of their own, began chipping away at another log with the dexterity of a skilled carpenter.

The proud icy puff the bird let out after that was twice as big as Lite himself, and the little ice-type shivered and nudged the titan by his side.

Were they laughing?

In the midst of this, the child, still mesmerised by the swindling tail, managed to pluck a feather from it. Articuno’s eyes widened, and one of the ice shards he controlled jabbed deep into the log. The Legendary clenched his beak, but soon relaxed, watching the child wave the feather with innocent glee.

Oliver sprang to his feet. “Hey, that’s not very nice, darling,” he said, hastening to his child’s side and shooting an apologetic glance at Articuno. With a playful voice, he stretched the last word, “We have to be niiicee. Remember our town’s motto: everyone is welcome, but if you come, come in peace.”

Celeste, still disoriented, glared. Wasn’t that Articuno’s rule?

Articuno gently retrieved his feather, then signalled Lite to approach. With a careful eye on the Ice-type, he touched the ice shard embedded in the cot. The shard melted and reshaped into a miniature vanillite, a perfect copy of the one posing on the side. The legendary then touched the feather to the ice sculpture, and it dissolved into a cloud of sparkling particles similar to those trailing his tail.

The little ice sculpture shone like a precious gem.

Using his talons, the bird then carved the damaged spot on the cot, creating a niche in the wood where his new work of art would fit perfectly.

Oliver, now cradling his child, looked in awe. “I’m not sure what just happened, but it was incredible. You’re truly talented, my friend,” he praised.

Articuno let out a soft whistle, summoning more ice shards to continue his work on the cot, a hint of pride in his eyes as he vocalised something almost sheepishly.

“That’s… amazing,” Luan said after a moment. “Rev is translating… A feather from Articuno can prevent things from ever melting.” His expression was lost in some distant thought. “It makes you wonder about Zapdos and Moltres.”

Despite the… strangeness of this whole situation, Celeste couldn’t help but smile.

This dream was so… wonderfully domestic. Magic feathers and visions aside, it was a moment shared between two friends, a bond that would extend to Oliver’s child and eventually continue through generations… To Olga and Rey.

Beautiful, yet… there were dark clouds rising.

“I think I used that cot,” Rey suddenly said. “The one with the crystal. Mother still has it. I always remembered it being cold to the touch, yet it always felt warm to me.”

Luan nudged Rey. It was just like the nudge Lite had given Articuno. “Rey Silverwind getting sentimental?”

Rey’s eyes widened in indignation. “What—NO!” He flicked his hair back, scoffing. When no witty retort came to mind, he scoffed again, louder this time.

Celeste laughed, observing their dynamic. It was a lot like the other trio in front of her.

Articuno could be nice sometimes, but he was also smug, perhaps even vain, much like Rey. Vanillite, like Luan, sometimes faded into the background, but was fierce when it mattered. And then there was Oliver, with his goofy grin and herself…

She was forcing the analogy… right?

Celeste’s gaze returned to Oliver and Articuno, who were sharing a laugh, but Lite… was nowhere in sight. In the cot, the crystal had transformed into a snowflake.

She rubbed her eyes.

“Where’s Vanillite?” she asked, noticing the Munna’s gaze flicking towards her first. There was anger there.

“What Vanillite?” Luan asked back.

“What do you mean, what Vanillite? The one who was here. Lite.”

Rey crossed his arms. “Yeah, I’m worried we haven’t seen him in a while. But I don’t think we’ll find him in this dream.”

“He was right here!” Celeste insisted, feeling an unexplainable weariness creeping over her. She pointed to the cot. “Does your cot have a crystal like that, or is it shaped like Vanillite?”

Her friend shrugged. “It’s been a long time. I don’t remember specifics.”

“It’s a piece of magical ice that never melts!” Celeste’s voice was filled with panic.

“I didn’t know that back then, okay!” Rey’s patience was disappearing. “Why the obsession?”

Celeste was at a loss. Something was wrong, and only she could see it…

Although…

Slowly, her eyes settled on the Munna perched on Luan’s head. She opened her mouth to speak, but Powder’s bark cut her off.

The Vulpix was sprinting along the flower field, pursued by a massive wave of dark mist. Hues of purple and blue deepened into an inky black, surging towards them like a tsunami.

All Celeste could do was scoop up Powder in her arms as the engulfing darkness swept over them.

—*——*—

In the darkness, a voice, youthful like a little boy, echoed around Celeste. It was not human, though, but something else. Whimsical, ethereal.

“You are wrongness,” it said, with a tone of accusation. “Stop calling for the nightmares.”

Celeste bit her lips. She took a step forward, and suddenly, floating in front of her, was the Munna.

Rev, that was the name Luan called him.

“What?” was all she could manage.

“Your wrongness is distorting Articuno’s dreams,” Rev accused.

“I don’t… Wrongness? What does that even mean?” she tried, but he blew his trunk dismissively.

Instantly, they were back in the desolate Four Island town she’d seen before. Festival tents flattened, the town hall encased in ice. This time, she saw faces within the frozen structure: Mayor White, his eyes wide with fear, frozen in a grotesque, still expression.

Behind him, there were others.

So many others…

The extent of the devastation was overwhelming.

“…the tragedy on Four Island is believed to be the work of the rampaging legendary Pokémon Articuno…” a voice reported, but it cracked with the same static from before. “…Champion Lance is coordinating humanitarian aid. Local hero Lorelei Kana, with a group of Lapras, has been instrumental in the rescue efforts…”

The static intensified, the scene trembling and shifting once more.

Now she saw the same town, but different. Rebuilt, yet marked by the scars of a distant tragedy. In the heart of Articuno Plaza stood a large memorial, engraved with the names of the victims.

An older Lorelei walked past Celeste as she explained it.

“That’s it for the tour,” she finally said, smiling as she retrieved keys from her purse. “It’s not much, but it’s quiet here. You’ll have some peace to do whatever is it you want. And don’t worry about anyone bothering you, there aren’t many trainers left anyway…”

Celeste blinked, and the scene dissolved once more. She was back with her friends, surrounded by dark mist. Rev floated nearby, struggling to cleanse it away, and both boys were arguing.

“What do you mean we have to wake up naturally?” Rey hissed. “What about your Munna?”

Luan, letting a curl fall over his eyes, gestured towards his psychic. The mist he exhaled was a light purple instead of pink, dense rather than airy.

“He’s barely managing,” Luan said.

“So we wake up now!” Rey insisted.

“But then all of this is for nothing. You haven’t even tried speaking with Articuno,” Luan countered.

“It’s hard to pretend to be someone else when they’re right there,” Rey retorted.

Luan fidgeted. “Why pretend? Just be yourself.”

Rey scoffed. “Look, I’m fucking great. But Polaris… he might not appreciate my brand of greatness. Safer to go with the guy he wants me to be.”

“He might like the real you…” Luan murmured as Rev limped into his arms, exhausted. “Tell him, Cee.”

She blinked repeatedly. “You didn’t see any of that?”

“Hell, can’t you focus for a second?” Rey snapped. “Whatever. The mist is parting again. Let’s hope Oliver isn’t around this time.”

—*——-*—-

Purple clouds of Dream Mist intertwined with those in the orange-tinged sky. The sun was sinking into the ocean, its dying light casting a warm glow, while the autumn leaves danced in the gentle breeze. They were no longer near the garden’s central spring but beside a stream that meandered towards a cliff, tumbling down in a small waterfall. The sound of water crashing against rocks filled the air, but little else disturbed the quiet.

Articuno perched alone on a rock, his eyes distant and contemplative.

“Oliver isn’t here,” Luan murmured, and this time, it was Rey who seemed unsettled.

Perhaps what was harder was to pretend to be someone else when expectations were involved.

“P-Polaris?” Rey’s voice was unusually timid. However, when Articuno turned, it wasn’t him he looked at.

“Hiding from an old man? Come now, old friend, you’re better than that.”

The voice, though familiar, carried a different note—raspier, weaker… older.

Celeste and her friends turned to follow Articuno’s gaze.

There, on a Lapras, sat Oliver Silverwind, visibly aged and frail. His once vibrant silver hair had dulled, and deep lines etched his skin. His green eyes, once bright, were now dimmer, and his hand, gripping his mount for support, trembled visibly.

Yet, despite the time, his goofy smile was still the same.

The bird cooed softly as he neared his lifelong friend, tenderly brushing his beak against Oliver’s cheek.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Oliver chided, his eyes capturing the twilight. There was a beautiful melancholy in his voice. “You visit just once a year, my friend. Did you really think I’d miss it?”

Articuno responded with a sweet whistle, and the elder Silverwind gently caressed the Pokémon’s beak. “How were your travels?” his voice was but a whisper. “Have you been getting along with your brother and sister?”

The legendary bird raised his head slightly, nodding in a manner that seemed genuine to Celeste. Satisfied, Oliver reached into his coat, retrieving a small, triangular wooden object. Its edges were rough, and a large, pointed splinter jutted out from one side, seemingly intentionally.

“I gave wood carving another try,” he explained, presenting the object to Articuno. “My hands aren’t what they once were, but I think it turned out quite well.”

The bird snorted playfully.

“It’s Vanillite,” Oliver chuckled weakly. “Just squint a bit.” He then looked skyward, where a faint shadow loomed. Celeste recognised the silhouette, triangular, just like the carving, but remained silent, observing.

“You’ll look after each other, won’t you?” Oliver continued, his voice faltering as his eyes shifted from the sky to Articuno. “Take care of one another when I’m—”

Articuno’s ensuing cry, loud and piercing, cut him off. Oliver didn’t flinch, though. He just shook his head, beginning to speak but stopping short, interrupted by his rattling breath and eventual coughs. With one hand on his chest and the other gripping the Lapras, he offered his friend an apologetic look. The bird, however, seemed frozen in place.

Gathering his strength, Oliver reached towards him again, but the Legendary recoiled, gently flapping his wings to distance himself. Then, with a sigh, he dropped his arms to his sides and settled on watch as snowflakes formed.

It was like Articuno’s heart held the blizzard, and it begged to be let out.

Never on Oliver, though.

“Lite always loves it when you make fresh snow like this,” Oliver said, smiling faintly as his eyes found Celeste’s. “I’d like to think it’s easier when he’s around… but…” His gaze returned to Articuno. “…there’s no easy way to say goodbye, is there, old friend?”

Articuno shook his entire body, his wings flapping as if to protest the very notion of goodbye.

Celeste felt Powder press closer to her.

“There was nothing wrong with the dream this time, was there?” she asked, her gaze fixed on Rev, but her voice was small. “I mean, Lite was meant to be there, I think. But it wasn’t like before.”

The Munna shook his trunk, pointing to the dark clouds that loomed over the horizon. “This was never a dream, Celeste… and to Articuno, everything is wrong.”

She blinked, her eyes also following the darkness. “What happens now?”

As the ground faded beneath them and the sky rushed by, Luan spoke. “Rev can’t purify the nightmares any longer. We’ll have to see this through to the end.”

—*——*—

Cries of anguish reverberated through the air, transforming into hail and snow that blanketed the ocean and lands below. Oliver and Four Island disappeared over the horizon, but quickly, another place emerged into view.

Celeste recognised it immediately.

She had once walked those shores and watched the imposing mountain that dominated the landscape. This was in another time, however. In the era of Oliver Silverwind, this was the Island of Caldera, and no tacky ice cream shop or the quaint Paldean restaurant with a friendly Flamigo dotted the narrow streets and large promenades of the present.

In modern times, the name Caldera had faded into obscurity. Celeste recalled from Olga’s explanations that Kanto’s government had opted for the boring simplicity of renaming it One Island. Ironically, it was during the same conversation that Celeste had pressed Olga about another Legendary bird. The one dwelling in the mountain ahead—a volcano, in truth.

Soot and ash mixed in with the snow, and dark clouds circled Articuno as he cried out for someone.

She wished she asked more about this other bird.

First came the bright flames.

From within them, Moltres rose high like the sun and looked down on her sibling. She didn’t seem happy, nor to be one to ask questions before attacking.

With a single beat of her wings, she unleashed large rings of fire that surged directly towards Articuno.

The ice bird welcomed the approaching flames with a something close to a smirk, and then, at last, unleashed his tempest.

If you come, come in peace… but only sometimes.