Chapter Text
Hailstorm paced around his room.
Why do I still feel like I did something wrong?
He was back home. He should be happy. Why wasn’t he happy?!
Images of soaring high above the clouds and eating roast mountain goat with his ‘friends’ still lingered in his mind.
Why can’t these stupid thoughts leave me already?
Hailstorm shook out his head again, smacking it against the wall. He paced again like a trapped animal.
Why in the icy seas would I take his things…? Am I trying to be sappy?!
He ripped off the little strange pouch he found on his brother’s corpse. It had a tiny black rock in it, and nothing else. What use was this to an Icewing prince? Regardless, he kept it. Hailstorm had an urge to keep it close to him instead of tossing it out of the nearest window.
It’s probably sentimental… Pyrite chirped from the back of his mind.
Why do I care?!
Because he brought me back home. I ruined my life for him, and he paid for my return with his. Like a real Icewing.
The least I can do is to respect him. Hailstorm peeled himself away from the window. He involuntarily put the little decorative thing back onto his back ankle.
I need to get ready already. Bumbling around is for Rainwings.
He sighed, patching his wounds with another gauze wrapping. They were still bleeding.
Moons forbid that they’re infected…That Nightwing got me good.
He glanced at the icy mirror in the corner of his room. He hadn’t seen his scales in years. Hailstorm felt huge compared to Pyrite. She was sleek and untouched by the scars of war, while he had scuff marks from the day that he lost himself. It was…weird. Really weird. Hailstorm felt like he was dreaming. One part of the deep wells of his mind wanted to be up in the mountains again, while the other wanted to stay put in this familiar cold paradise.
But what he really wanted was to talk to Winter. But he couldn’t. He’s dead. Hailstorm murdered him. Out of ‘cold blood’ as the other tribes would call it. He regretted it so much more than he thought he would afterwards. He didn’t even get to talk to him through his own thoughts about Winter’s life after he was gone. He didn’t even ask. Didn’t bother. The one thing he wasn’t good at, was being a good brother. Caring.
”Prince Hailstorm?” Someone called from the door. “We found a uhm…letter. Addressed to Prince Winter.”
”What?”
”From Jade Mountain Academy. We didn’t know what to do with it.”
Hailstorm sneered at him.
”Why would you give it to me?!”
”…That’s what Icicle and your parents said. Please…just take it.”
He ripped it from the third-circle’s claws and told him off. The one moment he had time to reflect was interrupted by Winter and his sappy connections with those other tribes.
This is my punishment for killing him, isn’t it?
The letter read:
Dear Winter
Why didn’t you come back to Jade Mountain? We miss you. It’s been a little boring without your bossy scales messing with us. Come visit sometime soon, alright? Lynx is moving back all of your stuff, if you even care.
If you’d write us about why you’re not coming back to Jade Mountain, that would be awesome! And tell Hailstorm that he’s a good brother—you seem tense after all of that time away from him! A good re-kindled friendship starts with compliments!
—From your friends, Qibli, Moon, Turtle and Umber. (And Lynx and Kinkajou.)
Hailstorm frowned at it. Why was his brother so soft? Is that why he was so easy to kill? He grimaced at himself.
Don’t talk about him that way. He’s made connections. Something that you don’t have. Not anymore.
I miss you, Eagle. Pyrite piped. She was trying to worm her way back into his brain again.
Hailstorm winced at the memory of him bolting up to her like a dragonet. She looked so confused and disgusted…and the fact that Winter; the lowest ranking dragon from Queen Glacier’s lineage ever had to defend him. He wanted to throw up.
Is that what us Icewings look like when we talk to other tribes?
Like Soar would say, “all other tribes aren’t as important as your own.” Pyrite lectured.
He screamed like a mad dragon, scaring some of the maids cleaning the hallways outside. They glanced at him like he belonged in the house for insane dragons that lost their minds during the war. That meant he was doing something wrong. Being a first-circle and all, no one would dare look at him that way. Not if he was being downright insane, though.
When have I done anything right after I came back home?
The first thing Hailstorm had done with his brother was to murder him. Not to eat ice cream or fly to around the large icicles and glaciers to catch polar bears. He didn’t even say that he loved him.
That was the biggest mistake of his life. Far ahead of sacrificing himself for Winter’s sake. He did that out of love, at least.
Hailstorm rolled out a piece of parchment. He was going to make things right.