Zielschmerz

A barrage of hail assails the land, laying waste to anything unfortunate enough to be alive.

Ice creeps across the tundra, an endless sea of white drowning in the ravenous snow.

Winter is howling.

The Sandslash closed the book with a dull thump that echoed around the silent room. Sterile white walls of packed snow surrounded the rows of metal desks, a young Pokémon sat behind each. A number of lamps on the equally blank ceiling illuminated the room with dim, artificial light, reflecting off the dull surfaces of the childrens’ tables. None shivered despite the cold air pervading every nook and cranny, but as their breaths misted with each exhale, it could not be said that they were comfortable.

“Okay class, what did we think of the poem?” the Sandslash asked.

An Aipom near the back raised their prehensile tail, waving it.

“Yes, Liz?”

“Um, I think it’s talking about the blizzard outside?”

“Good, good!” the Sandslash smiled. She stood up from her chair, pacing slowly at the front of the room. “And what did it describe the blizzard as?”

“As a fierce animal!”

“Ask to speak before answering, Cailleach,” the Sandslash responded calmly, and the Larvesta near the front grumbled. “But yes, that is true. What else?”

“Um–”

“I hear you Seod. Go on.”

A Voltorb on the side coughed. “Well, it also said that the blizzard was ‘endless.’ I guess that’s talking about how it never seems to end? Or that it’s everywhere?”

“Very good Seod!” the Sandslash praised, and the Voltorb beamed. “Yes, the poem does reference how the great blizzard of the south never seems to stop. Does anyone remember why that is?”

The room is silent for a while, the teacher scanning the room, waiting for a response.

Finally, someone cleared their throat in the back.

“Sneach? Would you like to answer?”

“Y–yes!” a Shellos stuttered. “The v–v–volcanoes in the north a–a–a–”

“Slowly, Sneach~”

The Shellos swallowed. “–a–and the ocean in the south t–trap the cold air in the south, so half of Eldisholm is stuck in a b–b–big blizzard.”

“Excellent!” the Sandslash praised as the Shellos anxiously slunk back to hide amongst the crowd. “Yes, that’s exactly right. We live in Daille, a settlement in Eldisholm’s southern territory. As most of you have probably heard in stories, to the north is where the famous mountains of fire and ice are, where snow falls on lakes of lava!”

She shook her head. “However, because of the hot air there, and the updrafts from the ocean to the south, the blizzards that cover us isolate us from the rest of Eldisholm, much less the world. Only brave ice types can make their way through the vast tundra to reach us, and even they are rare to host.”

“Uh, what does host mean?”

She turned to see the Larvesta from before staring blankly at her.

“Well, to host means to welcome a visitor, and take care of them nicely while they stay.”

“Oh.”

A few of the children quietly snickered at Cailleach’s obliviousness, but neither he nor the teacher heard their giggles.

The Sandslash paused. “Any questions?”

A silence.

“Alright, then we’ll–”

“Um… Ms. Cornice?”

The room turned to look at the child in the very corner. A small Petilil, eyes starry and bright, but expression blank.

“Yes, Ghrian?”

Ghrian was quiet for a moment, before speaking. “…We live in snow tunnels underground so that we can stay protected from the blizzard, but… how did non-ice types get here?”

“Oh. Well, that’s a very good question, Ghrian! It’s not something any of us are entirely sure of, but we think it has to do with something we call Shaymin’s Breath.”

“Isn’t that a myth?”

The Sandslash turned to Cailleach, who instantly wiggled one of their legs. “Uh, can I ask a ques–”

She sighed. “It’s alright, you already asked. We aren’t sure if it’s a myth or not, but one of the most famous stories that I’m sure all of you have heard is about Shaymin’s Breath, a time where winds from the lands up north blow down south. It’s very rare, since smoke from the volcanoes usually block it from crossing, but once in a blue moon, the stars align, and the fertile winds of Dreselia clear the blizzards, and allow the sun to shine through.”

“What does the sun look like?” Seod asked.

“I haven’t seen it myself, but it’s a wonderful thing. It’s a great ball of fire in the sky, like a circular lamp that shines warm light on everything beneath it, melting ice and letting plant life bloom.”

The kids ooh-ed and ah-ed at the description, many whispered excitedly amongst themselves.

“But yes. To go back to Ghrian’s question, it is very possible that settlers from Eldisholm’s north were able to travel south here because of Shaymin’s Breath, only to get stuck here in the blizzard and make a shelter, one that would eventually grow to become Daille.”

She smiled at Ghrian, and turned to the rest of the class. “Any more questions?”

When none answered, she clapped her claws together. “Then that’s it for today! Make sure to do your homework to bring it tomorrow! Sioc, don’t forget your bag!”

A clamor ensued as the kids streamed out the door, excited to finally be free of their tedious education for the rest of the day. Teasing and laughing, they chased each other down the halls, white walls surrounding them on all sides. Only a few lamps lit the childrens’ way as they sped down the cramped corridors, some tripping on the way but quickly getting up to catch up with the group.

Soon enough, the tunnel gave way to a large, open room with a huge domed ceiling above them. Bright light filtered in from a clear, glassy skylight, the ice showing hints of the howling flurry outside as snow occasionally brushed away to reveal darkened skies. But the kids paid them all no heed as they bid each other farewell, and left for their homes, small white-brick doors on the sides of the dome like a circle.

And when finally the last child entered their home… all was silent. All was peaceful. And the common room was empty.

Well. Except for one.

A Petilil stared up at the ceiling, watching as the white particles sloshed around and moved on the glassy ice, a thousand snowflakes crushed under millions of their own kind, hungry to crash through the roof and tear into the warm, kind air within.

The Petilil watched with wide, still eyes, their expression as blank as always.

“Ghrian–!”

He tore his gaze away from the ceiling, and saw a Victreebel poké their leaf out from behind one of the doors on the right, kindly eyes smiling at him.

“Ghrian, tea is ready!”

“Coming, mom.” Ghrian glanced to the side. There, between two sets of living quarter doors was a great big metal gate. Two steel beams held it in place, a barrier that separated death and life. For the hundredth time, Ghrian stared at it. And then, he turned away, and scuttled over to where the Victreebel was waiting for him, slipping inside and letting the door click shut behind him.

“Here honey–” the Victreebel said, ushering their son towards the dinner table in the corner of a cozy, well furnished living space. Two straw beds lay to their left in the other far corner, a kitchen to the left of the entrance door and a small door on the right that was labeled with “Bathroom: KNOCK FIRST!”

“How was class today?”

“Same as always,” Ghrian replied in a blank voice.

“In a good way?”

“I guess.”

“Did those bullies try anything?”

“No. Not today.”

The Victreebel sighed in relief. “I’ll have to talk to their parents one day, that’s no way to raise a child–!” Using their stem atop their head as a walking stick, they hopped over to the kitchen, balancing two glasses of steaming green liquid atop her leaf.

“And what did you learn today?” she asked, hopping back over without spilling a single drop of the tea.

“Nothing new. Just read a poem and talked about Daille’s history a bit.”

“Really now? How far back?”

“The beginning.”

“Oh! What did the teacher say?”

“Well, I asked about the Shaymin’s Breath.”

“Oh, that’s your favorite story!”

Ghrian nodded. He took a moment to pause as the mother slid over a glass. He stuck the edge of his leaf in the steaming tea, and slowly, the liquid began to drain from the cup.

Once empty, he pulled away and continued. “The teacher said that the Shaymin’s Breath is from the north.”

“The volcanoes?”

“Dresilia.”

“That’s interesting~” said the Victreebel mother, pouring all of her tea into her mouth before taking Ghrian’s glass and hopping back over to the kitchen to place them gently in the sink.

“Kinda. Didn’t say much more.”

“Really? Nothing more?”

“…Well, they talked about the sun.”

The Victreebel paused. “And what did they say?”

“That it was like a giant circular lamp in the sky that warmed everything up and made life happen.”

A moment of silence, and the mother chuckled. “She’s not wrong.”

“Really?”

“Sure. But she didn’t tell you everything I think.”

“She didn’t?”

“Well, we’re grass types, right? Did she tell you about what it did for certain Pokémon species?”

Hesitation. “…No?”

A chuckle. “Well, fire types get stronger in the sun, and water types get weaker, though I think any water type in Daille would prefer it over the blizzard. But grass types… it gives us life. Light is our main source of energy, and while the lamps work just fine…”

“The sun is way better?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“How?”

“Nobody knows for sure. We can’t use Sunny Day in here either, it would melt the ice dome. A breach is the last thing we need. But… I remember the feeling.”

“You… you’ve felt the sun before?”

“Oh, yes. Years and years ago, when I was still a little Bellsprout. Just like you, actually, in school. Shaymin’s Breath came, and for a short period of time, we were allowed outside. It was like being born again. I hadn’t known how to live my whole life until that moment. I still think it’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Ghrian stared at her with starry eyes. His expression was blank, but his mind was alight.

“Then why hasn’t Ms. Cornice felt it before–?”

“Oh, she’s still young. I’m way too old,” the Victreebel chuckled. “I think I’m the only one left that’s felt it, actually. Other than dear Glaze, but I’m afraid he’s rather too addled to tell people about it.”

“So…”

“The stories are real, yes.”

“Do you think I’ll–?”

“Maybe. It has been eighty years since the Shaymin’s Breath.” She held up a leaf, glancing at the few spots of black hidden underneath. “I’m getting old. Hardly anyone remembers. It’s a game of luck, and only Dialga knows when it shall happen again.”

Ghrian was silent, and the Victreebel hopped over.

“But I’m sure the day will come, sweetie. You have your whole life ahead of you, and one day this terrible blizzard will give way to the greatest warmth you’ll ever feel.”

“Warmer than fire?”

“Much, much warmer. Like a beacon shining from your core.”

Ghrian was silent, but his eyes said it all.

The Victreebel smiled, before coughing, a small glob of purple goop trailing from the corner of their open mouth. “Mama has to rest for now… Why don’t you go play outside?”

“Okay,” came the usual blank response, and without any opposition, Ghrian hopped over to the door.

“Oh, dear–!”

Ghrian turned back to see his mother holding up a scarf decorated with pink, blue, and white stripes.

“Don’t forget your scarf!” she called.

“Right.” Ghrian hopped over and held still as she used her stem to wind the cloth around the Petilil’s neck.

“There~” she smiled, and Ghrian nodded, hopping back over to the door.

“Have fun!” she called, and the door clicked shut.

Scio the Victreebel stood there for a second, before sighing. She glanced at the upper corner of the ceiling, where a thin square with a piece of wedged glass formed an insulated but pathetic-looking window. White snow had piled outside it, making it look almost no different than the sterile walls around it.

She sighed. “One day.”

---

“I’m telling you, it’s real!”

“Hah, funny joke, beach ball!”

Seod the Voltorb wince as they were shoved back, rolling a short distance.

A Larvesta and Roggenrola stood before him, laughing with sneers on their faces, or as much of one that they could muster.

“Real funny!” Sioc jeered.

“But Ms. Callioc–”

“You know she’s stupid!” Cailleach spat, charging forwards and knocking the Voltorb back once again.

“S–stop it, Caille!”

“And what’re you gonna do, Sneach?”

“I–I–”

“You’ll stutter at me? Big whoop, that’s sooooo effective. I totally feel like stopping.”

“Oh you do?” Sioc asked with genuine confusion.

“NO, DUNCE!” the Larvesta screeched. “I was being sarcastic!”

“Oh.”

Sneach crawled over to Seod, their Shellos foot moving as fast as they could. “A–are you o–o–okay Seod?”

“Oh I’m fine, I can take these bullies on any day!”

“Really now?”

The two froze as Cailleach and Sioc refocused their attentions. “You can take us? What makes you think you can win?”

“Uh–”

“You’d better not say anything because anything you say’ll be STUPID!”

“Like Shaymin’s Breath!” Sioc cackled.

“But it IS real! Ms. Corni–”

“Shut UP already!” Cailleach exclaimed as he crawled forwards, a few sparks of flame shooting out from his coat of white fur.

“He’s right you know.”

They four kids turned at the sound of the new voice.

“Oh, great, it’s Ghrian,” Cailleach groaned.

The Petilil scooted over to Seod and Sneach, acknowledging them with a glance and a nod.

“Shaymin’s Breath is a real thing.”

“Uh huh. And who told you that? Corn?”

“My mom.”

“That old houseplant? You she’s probably like Glaze right?”

“…”

“I don’t think she’s got more than two more years left–”

“You take that back.” Ghrian’s voice was barely a whisper as they stared at Cailleach.

“I can’t hear you rot, speak up–”

“You take that BACK!” Ghrian shouted, a flurry of glowing leaves appearing in the air before shooting forwards and striking the Larvesta directly in the face.

The bully winced, stepping back. They shook their head.

They glared at Ghrian, almost entirely unaffected.

“Oh I’ve had enough of you,” Cailleach growled, the malice in their tone making even Sioc take a step back.

Their body burst into flame as they shot forwards, the fireball slamming into a surprised Ghrian. The Petilil cried in pain as they were knocked to the ground, burn marks seared onto their body and their scarf blackened and charred.

Cailleach landed, before scuttling over to Ghrian, grinning wickedly. “I think it’s about time we taught you a lesson.”

Cailleach lunged forwards, sinking their mandibles into Ghrian’s flowery lower half.

“AAH!” he screamed in pain.

“I’m gonna shut you up for a bit, so I don’t have to listen to yer yappin’”.

“Ghrian!” Seod and Sneach cried, rushing forwards, but Sioc stepped in front of them.

“You help him, and you’re gonna get it next,” he sneered.

The pair hesitated, staring nervously as Cailleach began to drag Ghrian away, disappearing around the corner. Seod snarled, electricity crackling around him.

“Get out of the–”

“Seod, w–we can’t.”

Seod stopped, eyes widening as he turned to look at Sneach.

“But… Ghrian–”

“We c–c–can’t help him like… It’ll o–o–only get us in…”

“We don’t know what Caille’s gonna do to him!”

“He’ll give ‘em what’s comin’ to ‘im,” Sioc snickered. “‘Sides, since when were you his friend?”

“I…” Seod winced. “I’m not his friend, but…”

“S–Seod–”

“…But it isn’t right…”

“‘Course it is. Caille’s always right, ain’t he?”

“Caille–”

“Seod, j–just…”

Seod glanced between Sneach, who was bowing his head, and Sioc, who continued to stand in their way.

“…Please be okay Ghrian,” Seod whispered, turning to roll away, Sneach following close behind.

They couldn’t stop glancing over their shoulder, even as Sioc disappeared from view.

---

Ghrian cried in pain as Caille roughly threw him to the ground. The loud slam of a metal door rang through Ghrian’s head, before he was completely shrouded in darkness.

“That’ll shut you up for a bit,” Cailleach’s muffled voice guffawed.

“C–Caille–” Ghrian coughed, struggling to get up in the blinding shade.

“Don’t worry, someone’ll come looking for you eventually. In a while. Doubt anyone’ll miss you, ha!”

“D–don’t–”

“See ya, salad-head! Hahahaha–!” Cailleach laughed, until his voice faded away in the distance.

Ghrian groaned, rolling over onto his back and squinting to see in the room. There was almost no light, forcing him to feel around with his body; hardly an easy task, he had no arms.

“Urgh–” Ghrian moaned. His chest stung from the pain of what was surely a burn, but he ignored it. He was almost certain his special scarf was ruined as well…

“And mom worked so hard to knit it for me when I transitioned…”

His voice trembled, but he couldn’t afford to mope around. Not when he was trapped here.

He stumbled around in the dark, feeling carefully in front of him before moving forwards, until finally he bumped into a wall. From there, he shuffled around the perimeter of the room, trying to see if there was anything of use lying around.

Nothing. It was an empty, dark room. Not even a light switch. And of course the door was locked.

“Where…?” he muttered, before realizing. Cailleach must have thrown him in the trash room. And they just cleaned it out, which meant it was entirely empty until someone needed to throw away their garbage. Unfortunately, because of the frugal lifestyle the Pokémon of Daille had to lead, every little thing counted, and objects were reused as much as possible before they were discarded.

In other words… Ghrian was about to be alone for a long while.

After shuffling back around to the door and trying it a few more times, Ghrian  resigned, sitting down and leaning his head against the metal. His sigh pervaded the silence of his snowy cage. He was not particularly adept at smelling, but a noticeable stench began to fill his head.

“…Why me…”

And so… he sat.

The silence was all that kept him company.

He was alone.

In the darkness.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone…

…

…

…

…Something caught Ghrian’s eye.

Ghrian gasped as he suddenly noticed a glint of color in the corner of his eye. It blended almost perfectly with the wall, but as he scrambled forwards, he could see it clearly.

There was something there.

In his haste, he ran head-first into the icy brick wall, and he yelped in pain, falling down. He got back up, crawling forwards slowly until he was inches away from what he could now see was the smallest speck of dark, dark blue.

“A hole–!”

“…”

“…”

“…No, just a window…”

There, at his eye level, was a small window. The light of the outside world, sparse and dim to begin with, was blocked out by a mound of snow that stuck tightly to the glass. It provided nearly no light for Ghrian to see, and he did not have the strength to break through glass anyhow. Even if he did, it would only ensure his demise at the hands of the freezing cold outside.

Truly defeated, he slumped to the ground.

Tears rolled down his face, pinking against the icy floor he could not see.

“…Arceus help me…”

---

Cailleach could not stop smiling. He crawled along the tunnels with a skip to his step, a few sparks dribbling from his mandibles.

“Oh, you’re so smart, Caille,” he hummed. “Won’t have to deal with that annoying Ghrian anymore–”

“Caille!”

A voice snapped Cailleach out of his thoughts. He turned around, to see Sioc jogging up to him, pebble-feet clattering on the cold ground as he went. “Caille!”

“Yo.”

“You take care o’ the idiot?”

“Sure did, heh.”

“What’d you do?”

“Threw ‘em in the trash room.”

“Ooooh, smart. Nobody’ll look there in a million years.”

“Heh, of course it’s smart, I thought of it, didn’t I?”

“Heck ye–”

“Cailleach! Sioc!”

The two of them froze as their names were called out. They glanced up, and saw an Aipom marching up to them.

“Did you take my pencil?”

“Uh… no?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Well it wasn’t anyone else, I know that for sure!”

“…Uh… I dunno what to tell you, we don’t have it–”

“Liers!”

“Hey, we don’t lie!”

“You lie literally all of the time! You two are also obnoxiously loud!”

“…What does that mean?”

“It means you’re so loud it’s ANNOYING!” the Aipom shouted.

“Well, you’re the one shouting here!”

“Because you took my PENCIL!”

“GUYS.”

Cailleach and the Aipom stopped to look at Sioc, who was stock-still. All was silent.

…

…

…Silent.

“…That’s… weird. What happened to the–”

They all looked up. And they gasped.

---

Ghrian lay on the ground, his mind filled only with hopeless thoughts.

He had been in here for what felt like an eternity… and he was beginning to doubt that anybody would come for him.

He did not have friends, per say.

Nobody’s interests ever aligned with his.

Because all he cared about was…

He looked up.

There, through the window that had previously been blocked…

A single speck of yellow.

---

“The–the snow! It’s–it’s–it’s–”

“It’s not falling!”

“What’s that light?”

“Oh dear!”

News spread like wildfire as every Pokémon streamed out of their rooms, craning their heads to stare at the skylight, where large patches of yellow broke through the snowy canopy, casting beacons of warmth onto the people below.

“What is that–?!”

“It’s…”

“It’s the sun!”

---

Energy came over Ghrian like never before. He leapt upright, diving for the window and staring at the miniscule beam of light that poked through, barely a millimeter in diameter but brightening the entire room, even if only the slightest bit.

Ghrian slowly inched forwards, leaf nearly touching the ray.

---

“Open the gates!”

“Hurry, before it ends!”

“How long–”

“An hour at best–!”

Echoes of screeching metal flew down the halls of the icy prison, decades of rust and disrepair bogging down a gate that had not been opened in so long. A crowd gathered in the square, the citizens of Daille collectively holding their breath as the barrier between life and death opened for the first time.

And warmth greeted them as a long-lost friend.

The icy tundra beyond the doorway to hell was picturesquely beautiful. A shimmering world of white and green, snow half-melting to allow the suffocated roots of stubborn plants to breathe once again. Within an instant, flowers began to bloom, fertile winds blowing the clouds of the sky away and giving way to the golden rays of heaven. Arceus smiled on the land as Shaymin delivered life to the ones trapped within death’s cold embrace.

For a long while, nobody moved. Nobody dared challenge the ferocity of nature they had learned to fear their whole lives.

For a while, nobody breathed.

And then, Cailleach stepped forwards.

He stepped past the front ranks of the crowd.

He stepped into the mouth of the gate.

He stepped into the light.

He stepped into warmth.

And he smiled.

---

Ghrian’s eyes widened.

The edge of his petal brushed through the beam of light, cutting it in two.

He stared.

He stared.

He stared.

He stared.

And he waited.

…

…

…

…

…But he could not feel the life.

---

The Earth smiled as the souls of Daille rejoiced. A flood of residents streamed into the world outside, exploring the lands beyond their icy cage that they never could have set foot on. A hundred cries of joy graced the ears of the skies above as, for the first time in everyone’s life, true warmth was felt. The air was crisp and cold still, but the sun protected them, embraced them, warmed them. For however cold they had been their whole lives, nobody wanted to go back.

Half-melted slush was trampled on as the stampede dashed for the spots of green a short distance away. The first to reach the fields shouted in delight, and the rest followed suit. Flowers were smelled, picked. Grass was laid upon, rolled around in, a soft carpet that caressed those who laid upon it, rather than rebuff them with a stony, unforgiving surface. Shaymin’s soul danced between the blades, brushing everything with the touch of miracles.

The sun watched with a grin as the villagers danced in the plains, chased each other about, laughed and hugged, kissed and shouted their thanks to the blue skies above. Colors that the Pokémon had never seen before blessed their eyes; popping yellow warmed their souls, vibrant reds flushed their cheeks, tinted, calm blues cleared the doubts that came from the murky indigo storms of a lifetime ago.

Time flew with the wind, and the people cared not for anything but the sun in that moment.

And then a voice cried out in anguish.

All heads turned.

In the midst of the still group, floated a small Flabébé. And atop its head was a single, crystalline omen.

A snowflake.

All eyes looked to the sky.

The blizzard was coming again.

Shouting followed as the group sprinted for the safety of their home, a chilling wind cackling in their ears as mothers ushered children, lovers reached out for each other, as the world began to shiver and cower.

The ice began to fall once again.

And the gate slammed closed once again, a ringing clang that deafened the panting Pokémon.

As people were counted to make sure that everyone was inside safely… One voice in particular cried out.

“Ghrian! Where’s Ghrian?”

Faces blanched.

Whispers turned to panic.

And a finger pointed.

“Cailleach!”

The Larvesta’s face blanched whiter than its fur.

---

Ghrian looked up as blinding light pierced through his pupils. He squinted as gentle hands wrapped around him, people whispering comfort to him, asking if he was alright, if he was hurt. Some gasped, seeing his charred face, his ruined scarf. Anger rippled through the group as a Larvesta nervously backed away.

Ghrian cared not.

Ghrian could not hear them.

The crowd was hushed silent as Ghrian began to move.

Through the tunnels.

Through the icy passageways.

Through the corridors of an inescapable prison of the inmates’ own design.

Ghrian found himself in the center of the square, a hundred pairs of eyes watching as he looked up to the skylight.

And only darkened skies greeted him.

…

…

…

…A tear fell. It froze before it hit the ground.