Wings Of Honor: Heart of Ice

Chapter 18: The Second Self

I rounded the corner, pistol leading, close enough to hear Winter's scream.
"YAAAARGH! Get her out, get her out!"
"Winter, it's over!" Qibli called at him as I found him holding a collapsed Winter, still clutching his head. "You're you again. She's not real."
It only took me a moment to realize what just happened. Winter's entire demeanor changed. It was more like Halestorm, in his uncertain way. He pushed himself off Qibli, stumbling to his feet. He had a gritty look on his face, he was determined to do something. He started for the scroll pouch. Probably to rip it up, maybe to burn it, to utterly destroy it; and along with it, the existence of the terrible menace that was Pyrite. At least, until Halestorm started the same action.
"No!" Winter shouted, snatching it out of his grasp. "Hailstorm! Don't even touch it!"
"Maybe I should change back," Hailstorm whimpered, his face twisting into... what I could only describe as a mental conflict over your very being.. "At least when I'm Pyrite I only have one set of memories, right? That's what the scroll said. And I was happy as a SkyWing. It was easier than being an IceWing — no rankings, no one comparing me to everyone else all the time. No Mother and Father expecting me to be perfect. And I had fire — fire was amazing. Winter, please let me change back."
"That is completely insane," Winter said. His tone carrying the weight of my own mother. "When you're fully yourself again, you'll recognize that there is nothing preferable about being a SkyWing. No one would ever choose to be anything but an IceWing."
I frowned at the two, as Grace poked her head around the corner, with a similar expression. Qibli cleared his throat noticeably, and Winter returned him a death glare.
I could read his face clear as day. The problem was, he thought, not the desire to be Pyrite, but the appeal of being a SkyWing period.
He couldn't let Hailstorm see that, though. He needed to be strong so that Hailstorm could be, too.
I shivered. He was taking up the fire.
Like I do.
"You will never be Pyrite again," Winter said. "Get that through your frozen head."
Hailstorm growled furiously, and for a moment, I thought he might very well attack his own brother to get the necklace back. Like an acquaintance's fictional idea for a drug. Luciferium, that became a biological necessity if taken, and drove their users to acquire more by any means necessary. Even killing.
But Halestorm relented, turning tail and headed off towards Grace on the far end of the garden. I nearly tackled him, but he didn't look to be any more of a threat. What I did notice was the growing crowd of dragons gathering in the streets, pushing dollys and only offering curious, passing glances.
"Good speech," Qibli said. "Well, kind of mean, but in a convincing way."
"I need to be alone for a moment," Winter said.
Qibli raised his wings and stepped back with a little bow of acknowledgment. Not at all because he was mocking the "Prince of the Icewings."
He went and sat down under a fig tree, settling down with a heavy sigh. I watched as he tried to get his mind together.
"Marvin!"
"1-1! Please respond!"
"God damn it." I grabbed my radio. "This is 1-1. All is good."
There was a collective sigh over the speaker.
"Marvin, stop doing that to us."
"You know this is our only means of communication.
"And you very well know I react to contact. Winter just turned himself into fucking Pyrite."
There was a long silence.
"Excuse me?"
"Wasn't Pyrite a Sky- oooooh."
"Crap!"
"Yeah. There's an enchanted piece of paper in a pouch that, whoever wears it, becomes Pyrite."
"Oooh shit."
"Yeah. And Scarlet was using it to imprison Halestorm, Winter's brother, the Icewing we were going after."
"Hold up. Wait a minute. You're telling me... that a piece of paper turned an entire dragon into a totally different race?"
I just looked up at Grace.
"Welcome to the world of animus magic McManus."
"Oh shit."
"Anyways. We got Kinkajou to a doctor. She's being worked on now." Then, out the corner of my eye, I saw the door open and Moon stepped out. "Speaking of. Wait one."
"Is Kinkajou all right?" Qibli met Moon. Winter stood up and went over to join us. We glanced over at his brother as he did and saw him standing under an orange tree — like the one we have back home — only he was banging his head on the trunk. Winter sighed.
Moon shook her head at Qibli, curling her tail around her talons. Grace did the same, sitting next to her. She draped her wing around her.
"She has a skull fracture and three or four broken ribs," Moon said. Trying to imitate the professional delivery of a seasoned doctor, but her voice quavered as she spoke. "Also a hairline break near one elbow and bruising all along her spine and left side. The doctor says she needs to stay completely still for probably a month, maybe longer."
I took a long inhale, closing my eyes.
"Is she awake?" Winter asked.
"No." Moon hanging her head, shaking back tears. "The — the doctor doesn't know when Kinkajou might wake up."
I swallowed, tears forming in my own eyes.
Suddenly. Mayfly stuck her snout out one of the back windows and beckoned to Moon. "I need your authorization on this," she called, brandishing a small scroll and an inkpot. "To have her transferred to the clinic. They'll take care of her. Although they'll want to know what really happened to her."
"I told you," Moon said, almost annoyed from context. "A dragon attacked her."
"Are you sure?" the doctor asked. "She wasn't hit by an avalanche? Or thrown off a cliff? Or trampled by a herd of hippos? That really happened to a patient of mine once. There's no shame in admitting it. Hippos can happen to anybody."
I couldn't smirk, instead giving a "what the hell!" look towards her.
"Just a dragon, knocking her into a tree," Moon said firmly. She took the scroll and inkpot, dipped her claw into the black ink, and signed her name. "I promise."
"I saw it, too," Winter noted.
"He was really big," Qibli offered.
"Only a little smaller than me." Grace affirmed.
"With superdragon strength?" Mayfly muttered skeptically. She took the scroll back from Moon and stomped back inside. Moon looked around, then carefully set the inkpot on the windowsill.
Super- Grace began.
"Oh, good," Qibli said. "So our new mystery NightWing friend has inexplicable animus powers AND unusual strength. Super."
"Also, now he hates us, don't forget," Winter added. Rolling his eyes.
"But you saw what we did to his face," Moon said. "Between my fire, Grace's venom, and your frostbreath, he's probably much less dangerous now."
Reading Winter's face alone, I could tell he was skeptical. In my own experience, even experience on this champaign alone, I could tell nothing good came from adding revenge to a list of motivations. Hell, look at me and my men for example.
"Eagle!" Hailstorm shouted suddenly, sending a jolt of ice up my spine. Me and Winter whirled around to see his brother at the back gate, craning his neck to see over a SeaWing pulling a cart fully loaded with fish.
"Eagle!" Hailstorm called again, his voice full of excitement. "Eagle! Over here!"
"Uh-oh," Qibli muttered.
Winter bolted over to his brother's side as a large, almost pink, SkyWing shouldered his way through the crowd and stared down at them. Two more burly SkyWings stepped up behind him, glowering.
"How do you know my name?" The SkyWing demanded. "Who are you?"
"I'm —" Hailstorm faltered. "But don't you — I'm — we fought together under General Ruby —"
"She's Queen Ruby now," Eagle snapped back. "And I don't remember fighting any IceWings and leaving them alive." He eyed Hailstorm up and down. "I suppose if I did, that's a mistake that could be corrected."
"But how did 'e know your name?" asked one of the other SkyWings.
"Right," Eagle said, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Explain that, whale-eater."
"He doesn't —" Winter started.
But Eagle growled low in his throat, cutting him off. "Let the lizard speak."
Hailstorm stammered for a minute and finally mumbled, "I — I — I thought we were friends." He rubbed his eyes miserably.
The two flanking SkyWings recoiled in disbelief. Eagle's wings splayed with fury. "What?" he roared. Lashing out, reaching over the gate to grab Hailstorm by the throat. "How dare you? I would never be friends with an IceWing! Is this a joke? Did someone pay you to make a fool out of me?"
"He didn't mean it!" Winter yelled, trying to pull Eagle's talons off his brother. I trained my pistol onto the mess of angered dragons. "He's just confused!"
Qibli darted up on Hailstorm's other side and grabbed the SkyWing, too. Trying to drag him away. "He was hit on the head," Qibli explained quickly. "A war injury — his memory is all messed up —"
"Please don't hurt him," Winter cried. Hailstorm's face was turning bluer than usual.
"Drop that IceWing right now," said another voice behind Winter. I swung around to find Meerkat standing in the garden beside Moon, arching his venomous tail menacingly. "I order you by the authority of the Enclave."
To all of our surprise, Eagle immediately let go of Hailstorm. The IceWing collapsed back against the tree, gasping for breath. I ran up against him, med kit at the ready.
"Sorry," the SkyWing said to Meerkat, all the rage gone from his voice. "Didn't realize he was with you, Meerkat." He took a step back. "He was saying some mighty stupid things, that's all."
"Head injury," Qibli said again. Winter crouched beside his brother, but Hailstorm pushed him away. He just had a few minor scrapes and bruises. They looked like he had them before... all of this.
"Oh. Another wounded veteran," Eagle said. All three SkyWings were nodding. "I've seen plenty of those. Hope he recovers." He jerked his chin at Winter, as if he was thinking double, then turned and shoved his way back into the crowd, half of which had stopped to stare at the fight.
"Moving right along," Meerkat said, waving at the shrinking audience until they all started moving again.
"It was just a mistake, Hailstorm," Winter said to his brother in a low and soothing voice. "You've only been out from under the spell for a few hours. Give it some time. You'll forget all about Pyrite once you're surrounded by IceWings again."
Hailstorm shook his head; neither of us knew if that meant disagreement or despair.
"Winter," Hailstorm croaked softly. The weird but familiar sting as tears welled again. Winter leaned in closer to hear. Hailstorm turned hopeless blue eyes up toward him. "Winter — I want to go home."

Then, all in that one instance, that one sentence, the world went red.

Blood red.