A Snowy Place

Raiden was bent over, his large hands covered in mud as he meticulously coaxed an earthworm out of its burrow with a patience that suggested either deep focus or an unhealthy attachment to dirt, one couldn't quite tell. His rugged frame was caked in muck, his typically wild hair sticking to his forehead in wet clumps. To the untrained eye, this might look like the work of a madman, but to him, this was an everyday task. 

Shiro, his ever-stoic companion, stood a few paces away, arms crossed, watching the bulky evolved earthworms that obeyed Raiden's commands. His lips curled up into an amused smirk, though he maintained his usual calm demeanor. 

"Can you do a dragon?" Shiro asked, his voice calm but tinged with the slightest hint of amusement.

Raiden, still with mud-smeared hands, paused and looked up from his current task, squinting. "What?"

"A dragon." Shiro repeated, raising an eyebrow as if it were the most casual question in the world. "Because if you're gonna be messing around with these—" he nodded toward the wriggling earthworms, "—it's a bit beneath you, no?"

Raiden wiped his forehead with his sleeve, leaving an impressive streak of dirt across his face. "Wait, you mean... dragonflies? Or do you mean the actual big, Air-bending elemental beasts? Because that's a whole different thing, buddy."

Shiro let out a low, mocking laugh. "You mean you can only tame earthworms? What about something that doesn't crawl in the dirt all day?"

Raiden scratched his beard. "I don't know, man. Earthworms have their charm. You'd be surprised what kind of bond you can form with a good, strong worm." He then added, almost defensively, "It's a process."

"I'm sure it is," Shiro drawled, eyes twinkling with the faintest bit of disgust, "but just so we're clear, 'taming' earthworms doesn't quite have the same impact as taming, say, anything else."

Raiden shrugged, unfazed. "Doesn't mean I'm not the best at it. Just wait 'til I have them doing tricks. Epic tricks."

"Yeah, sure," Shiro said, clearly unconvinced, and turned away as Raiden finally coaxed one of the earthworms into a more cooperative position. "Look, the real question here is, you haven't tried taming anything besides worms, have you?"

Raiden looked unbothered, wiping his hands off he rambled. "Yeah, yeah, I'll show you dragons. All kinds of dragons. I've tamed bigger beasts than—"

But before he could finish, Shiro interrupted, his tone suddenly turning smug. "I'll get you the rum later. You're going to need it."

Raiden's eyes widened a little, and he gave Shiro a hearty slap on the back that sent the Blood Phoenix stumbling forward slightly. "That's what I'm talking about! You're a good man, Shiro. I'll be ready for any challenge you throw at me." He cracked his knuckles with a sense of purpose that made Shiro sigh inwardly. Foolishly confident, this one.

One afternoon, after the usual earthworm session, Raiden was spotted sitting by the palace pond, dipping his hand into the water. He looked peaceful—too peaceful, considering the context of his usual chaotic self.

Shiro strolled over, curious. "What are you doing?"

Raiden didn't even glance at him, lost in his self-imposed task. "Transmitting energy to the water," he said solemnly. "Can't suppress my qi without the proper liquor. You know, liquor." He stared deeply into the rippling water, as though contemplating the meaning of life itself.

Shiro stood next to him, holding back a smirk. "I'm sure that's totally how that works." Without warning, he handed Raiden a flask, knowing exactly what would happen next.

Raiden didn't question it, immediately popping the cap off and gulping down a generous swig. He sighed, blissfully unaware of Shiro's mischievous grin.

"What did you give me?" Raiden asked after a beat, squinting at the flask.

"Just a little something to help you focus," Shiro replied with the air of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

Raiden nodded and took another swig, feeling the alcohol's warmth spread through his system. "Good stuff. This'll help me get in the zone."

Shiro nodded solemnly. "I'm sure it will."

A week passed, and Raiden appeared at Shiro's request, ready to tame his beloved earthworms once more. This time, though, there was an unusual sparkle in his eyes. He was practically bouncing on his heels. "So, what's on the agenda today? Earthworms? More worms? You need me to work some lemonade magic on these bad boys, Eh?"

Shiro couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face. "Actually, I think I have something different in mind for you."

Raiden looked confused for a moment, but his eyes brightened as Shiro passed him another flask of "liquor." Raiden took it eagerly, assuming it was the same thing as last time.

And here we go, Shiro thought, watching with an unsettlingly calm expression.

Raiden gulped down the liquid, not realizing it was nothing more than water with a dash of flavored syrup. "Ugh! This isn't as strong as before... But I'll work with it."

However, after a few moments, he noticed something strange happening to the earthworms. They seemed to... expand.

"Wait. What?" Raiden muttered, his face falling as the once-compliant worms grew to grotesque proportions. They began wriggling out of control, tearing through the soil, as if they were going to eat him alive.

Shiro raised an eyebrow, watching with interest as the earthworms began to implode, their bodies bursting with an almost comical sound, like balloons popping. The remaining mess painted both Raiden and Shiro in a crimson-like hue.

Raiden blinked at the wreckage, still processing what just happened. He looked up at Shiro, mouth agape. "You...You switched my rum, didn't you?"

Shiro, unfazed, simply nodded. "Yes. Yes, I did. You're welcome."

Raiden sat there, dumbfounded, a mixture of disbelief and sheer horror crossing his face. "I... I... I killed them. I killed them all." He stared at the splattered remains of earthworms that were once his pride and joy.

"Not just that, Raiden," Shiro said with mock solemnity. "You obliterated them. And I thought you were supposed to be the best at this. A real earthworm whisperer."

Raiden's face twitched in annoyance as he wiped worm guts off his face, while Shiro pulled him toward a birdcage, muttering, "Come with me now."

Ironically, the Blood Phoenixes were fond of small birds that sang songs in cages. The birds chirped cheerfully as Shiro entered the space, which was beautifully decorated with green plants. It was the only lavishly adorned area within the Phoenix Palace. Shiro instructed Raiden to try taming the birds, promising that if he succeeded, he could even evolve them. As Raiden caught on to Shiro's trick with the placebo alcohol, he protested but eventually relented when Shiro promised to take him back to his friends afterward.

Raiden closed his eyes once Shiro left him alone, breathing deeply as he settled into his meditation. The birds' songs, once so peaceful, faded into the background, leaving only the sharp, biting wind at the edges of his senses. His mind, ever so chaotic in its nature, followed the cool, familiar path to calm—just as it had during countless moments of reflection in the past. But this time, it wasn't the usual tranquillity that awaited him. Instead, he felt the oppressive coldness creeping in from somewhere deep, somewhere hidden within his soul. The memories of that cave—the darkness and the chill—flooded his thoughts.

Why couldn't he shake the feeling? It was like something inside him had frozen over, a part of him locked away in that frigid place, and yet, it still haunted him—pulled at him. The cold seeped into his bones and stole his breath. He had expected clarity and a sense of peace in this moment of silence. But all he found was a vast emptiness, an overwhelming cold. 

In the distance, Armin's voice echoed faintly, but it wasn't the comforting sound of his bestfriend—no, it was distant, disembodied, like a memory that had faded with time. His heart raced as his breath turned to ice, and the faint sound of the birds chirping was drowned out by a howl of wind—sharp, biting, unforgiving. Panic seized him. The wind pressed against him like a weight he couldn't shake off. His vision blurred, and the ground beneath his feet seemed to shift into nothingness.

Snow. Thick, blinding white snow, stretching endlessly before him. He could taste the cold in the air, feel it in his lungs as if the very essence of it was trying to swallow him whole. He looked around, frantic now, the fear clawing at his chest. This wasn't the world he had known. This wasn't a place of peace. It was suffocating. And the cold, it had no mercy.

In that moment, he realized just how small and insignificant he truly felt. Even with all the strength in his body, all the years of experience, he was still powerless against the vastness of this moment. The wind howled louder, deafening, and he couldn't see, couldn't breathe. He wanted to shout, to reach out, but no sound left his mouth. There was nothing but the howling wind and the crushing isolation of that endless white. 

And then, as if a dam had broken, he snapped back to reality. The weight lifted. The snow and wind vanished, and he was back in the birdcage, surrounded by the chirps of the small birds. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, the knot of fear finally releasing its hold on him. But the lingering sensation—of coldness, of something lost—remained. 

Well...fuck.