Bad News

Nightwing finally turns to you, and for a split second, you think you can almost see a...sadness in her eyes. But...that can't be right, can it?

Before you can even think about it, whatever sadness you think you might have seen is gone. Instead, the unreadable stoicism is back.

"There's nothing I can do," she states, evenly and calmly. "Her soul has been torn apart. No matter what is done to her body, she will never recover."

You stare at her for a moment, uncomprehending. "I...huh?"

"This is not any kind of disease. This is a full-blown destruction of her soul. Something has torn her apart from the inside, and she has been left as little more than a shell."

You stare at your mother's still form, not really sure what to make of this news. It's nice to have a definitive diagnosis, but you were hoping for...anything really.

"Are...are you sure?"

Nightwing rolls her eyes, and surprises you by placing her hand on your shoulder. For a moment you think she's going to offer words of condolence, but then you feel a burning hot energy coursing through you, and the color of the world suddenly shifts - everything becomes slightly muted, and it's almost as if the edges have been blurred with water color.

You barely suppress a gasp as you look back at the dragon before you. Her entire body seems to be made of light. It's a light so fierce that you feel like it should burn your eyes, but strangely enough...it doesn't.

"This is what a dragon can see when they pull back the veil of the material and gazes into the energies of the world," Nightwing explains. You can't help but notice that she sounds different - almost like she's putting on a voice, or maybe the effect she's having on you is more than just visual.

"Look to your mother," she instructs.

You do, and you're confused by what you see. Unlike with Nightwing, the light of your mother's body barely shines, and seems to be completely extinguished at some points. It almost looks like a dying star, dim and full of sunspots.

"Humans don't have particularly powerful souls, but even then your mother should shine brightly. Instead, it looks as though parts of her have been...torn away."

You pull yourself away from Nightwing, your vision reverting to usual as you do. You sit down on the chair next to your mother. You feel...numb. Cold. You have a thousand questions, and yet...you simply can't ask them. You can't bring yourself to even form any coherent thoughts, let alone actual words.

Instead, you opt to remain in silence, coming to terms with what you've learned - not even a dragon can save your mother. A member of the most powerful species on the planet - powerless.

As you stare, a single, terrible thought comes to mind. Try as you might, you can't push it away - it keeps coming back, bigger each time, like a tumor preying on the fragility of your psyche. It claws at you, dragging you into it, and as you wrestle with it, you slowly lose the will to continue fighting. Eventually, you settle into it, the cloying darkness burning the edges of your mind as it consumes you.

"Should we..." You swallow. You can't believe you're going to ask such a question. "Should we..."

The words catch in your throat. Your chest hitches, and tears well in your eyes. You remember every time she ever picked you up. Every time she ever made you lunch. You remember everything she's ever done for you, all at once - and what you're considering...you don't know if it would be a mercy, or an affront.

Finally, with a shaking voice, you manage to **** out the words.

"Should we...put her out of her-" before you can finish, a terrible, strained whimper rises from deep within your chest. It sounds almost like wind blowing through a shattered pain of glass.

You feel Nightwing's hand on your shoulder again, and she speaks softly.