Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The death-smell of fire and blood hung thick in the air, cloying and choking, as the gore-slickened grass swelled underfoot.

The sun must have risen, but even its power could not breach the destruction. Billowing smoke locked the heavens away, its underbelly vibrant with fire-glow and speckled with embers. Men and dragons and beasts all moaned in a universal cry of suffering. The city walls—or what was left of them—seemed close to crumbling into smoke-stained gravel. The once-lush fields spotted on scouting missions were trampled and bloody-red, the surrounding forests ablaze, and the river nearby run dry after a massive effort to block and divert it.

Men lingered, the victors eyeing the losers with triumphant malice. The dwindling army had been rounded up to witness the surrender of their home, their autonomy, their identity. There was still a grudging respect among the simmering hostility, though; they had fought with incredible bravery and competence. They had twice as many men compared to their captors. They had enough horses to trample the fields and invading army in one swollen wave. They even had an entire cavalry of war elephants, fearsome beasts drunken on the terrors of war, so dangerous that even their masters feared them.

But they had not had dragons.

Now the forest of men parted as if a strong wind tore through them. Among all of the strength of these men, there was one above it all, a force even grander than those of nature’s gods, a singular will that could raise armies and fell empires.

You.

With your every step, death-smell wafted into the air. Smaller, thinner, weaker than the men making way for you, your presence towered above where your body could not. The light of the battle seemed drawn to you, like insects to a flame, as if there was merely no other place it needed to go. No man lifted their eyes to yours. No dragon let their head rise higher than yours.

You had demanded parlay out in the open, so that all may witness your decree. And so, absurd as it was, a table had been placed there, where the defeated would-be emperor sat waiting. So, too, was the commander of the winning army.

You spoke many tongues. You used theirs, to the shock of your enemies, that a barbarian such as you could know their own so well.

“You may begin. And make it quick.”

You sat in an aloof manner, throwing an arm around the back of the chair, swinging your legs up onto the table, and studying a vial of purple venom in your hands. The commander and would-be emperor shared a look before the former cleared his throat.

“We will take the able-bodied men, women, and children into bondage,” he began. “The rest put to death—”

“No.”

Their eyes swiveled to yours. The commander tensed, just barely enough to be noticeable. The dragons at your side saw nonetheless and growled, scorpion-tails lifting, tusks unsheathing from their lower jaws.

“No,” you said again. You pocketed your venom and met the commander’s eyes. “There will be no slaves. That will not do.”

“Mind your tongue,” the commander hissed even as your dragons inched closer. “You will have your payment, and that does not include authority over our prizes.”

“ Men are not prizes,” you said. The commander rolled his eyes, exasperated. The would-be emperor maintained a stony expression, though his eyes shone with confused surprise; he, too, would have taken the other army prisoner if he had won.

“After they are taken into bondage,” the commander went on, as if you had never spoken, “you will give your empire’s wealth to us, as well as—”

“Now, now, now,” you chided him as though he were a child. “I thought I made it clear that there will be no slaves.”

“That is enough, Grimmel!” the commander snapped. He rounded on you, standing tall and yanking his blood-soaked sword free. “You have contributed to our cause, but you must learn your place.”

You sighed. With a lazy wave of your arm dangling over the chair, you gave a sharp whistle-click-click-click.

Envenomate, but do not kill.

The dragons descended. One reared tall, a mountain of armored scales and claws and venom. He faced the beast, eyes wide with horror, and the second snuck behind and struck his exposed neck with her barbed tail. The commander’s expression twisted into drowsy fury before he slumped to the ground.

“Now,” you said, voice pleasant, “we shall begin.”

“And what would you have?” the would-be emperor spoke for the first time, his voice clear and his eyes bright with pride. “You are not of these lands. What do you benefit from throwing your lot into our wars?”

“ He had what I wanted,” you said, nodding to the unconscious commander.

“Had?” the man noted, an eyebrow quirking up. At your smug silence, he couldn’t keep his lips from twitching into a ghost of a smile. “Ah, so you’ve already gotten what you wanted, then.” He leaned back in his chair. “Then allow me to make you an offer of my own.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you said. “I am under... particular confidence that I have already gotten everything I could from here. That is, for one thing.”

Then you nodded towards the abandoned city and called to your dragons, whistlewhistlewhistle-scree!

Destroy with fire.

Dragons lurking in the smoke descended, comets of darkness against the hazy sky. They tore into the city walls and battlements with flames. The men of the armies cried out in a mixture of outrage and terror, but they didn’t dare approach you.

“It is my understanding that most of your population is enslaved as well,” you said. You frowned. “How dehumanizing.”

“Then what is it that you want?” the man snarled.

“I want you to release your slaves—all of you,” you announced. “No man should be under the subjugation of another. And since you’ve done me the favor of marking your slaves with brands,” you said this with disgust curling across your face, “I will know very well of any attempts to keep them.”

More explosions erupted within the city walls. The dragons were destroying it all. Citizens fled from the city gates with nowhere to go, knowing they were running to the enemy that would no sooner kill, violate, and enslave them.

If not for you.

“A city built on the backs of slaves does not deserve to exist,” you went on, eyes hard in the firelight. “Perhaps you may rebuild it with the labor of beasts, instead.”

Explosions sounded from behind, as well. The commander’s camp. 

“An army built from slaves is no less tolerable.”

Men screamed and dragons roared. You did not turn to look at them. You knew enough would survive to send your message roaring through the lands.

People from both sides began to break away and flee. Some bore visible slave-marks on their foreheads while others did not. Nobody moved to stop them. Nobody moved at all. All eyes were fixated on you, the man who could order the destruction of two armies with a mere wave of his hand.

The would-be emperor’s hard, calculating eyes met yours. “You have decimated our armies,” he said. He waved out to the burning forests and trampled fields. “You have ravaged our lands.” He glanced over his shoulder at his city, just as the walls began to dissolve among the flames. “And now, our home. I can only assume from our broken communication lines that this fate befell those of our other cities, as well.”

“How very clever of you,” you drawled with a wry grin.

The broken emperor did not react to the news, though it must have been terrible. “And what is it for? Some... ideal that slaves should not exist?”

“Not ideal,” you corrected. “Reality.”

The emperor scoffed. “What, then, is left for us? We have no home, no wealth, no land, and now, if you have your way, no slaves. What, then, do you leave us?”

Your bemused expression snapped into a fierce, singular focus that would send a lesser man quailing. You straightened from your laid-back posture and leaned forward. No matter how hard he tried, the man could not help but flinch back.

After several long moments, you grinned, sat back, and steepled your fingers before your face. “Your lives.”

o.O.o

Your flying-ship was bustling with activity by the day’s end. Dragons attached to the ship’s chains gorged themselves on horsemeat from the battle, readying for a long flight back home. Men were loading foodstuffs, fresh water, and items of value into the ship.

You made your way up to the gangplank, and…

...and…

...and…

“Oh, silly me,” you said. “All this drama and mystery almost made me forget your dose.”

Exhaustion and fear and panic turned the world blurry, a nauseating cacophony of physical and mental pain alike.

You turned around, grasping a vial that sloshed with vibrant, purple liquid. You reached out and tugged on the harness on my neck.

My neck.

Me. Me. Me.

I tore my eyes— my eyes—from the poison. I looked at him—not to him. My gaze, my volition, facing his. My whole world, small and broken and doomed to fade, focused on him. My body, my will, my self, my existence — all of it! —but a breath of defiance in the booming thunderstorm of this torture.

The venom was too strong, even now, even weakening. All I could manage was to keep my eyes locked onto his, pouring my soul into them, so that he could know me even as he locked me away.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

He grinned. “The feeling is quite mutual, Night Fury.”

There was a snap and a click. A burst of cold at the nape of my neck—

The nausea lurched away, bringing the world into crisp clarity. You smiled to yourself, stood from where you had been crouching, and walked away.

Your vial was now empty, although it had been full before.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Toothless

The best part of it all was our home.

The very shape of the islands of Berk shifted to accommodate its new culture. With the destruction of the entire island five years ago, the familiar task of rebuilding had taken a new turn. Instead of dozens of tree-nests squeezing together in tight, squat bundles, they sprouted all around. From the cliffs to the forests, human nests trailed about like tree roots seeking out new water. The forests were not knocked down, but rather built upon, creating a shelter for dragon and human alike. Tree-nests were even constructed for dragons, when huddling together from the cold couldn’t provide enough warmth.

The deep wilds which sheltered the cove that changed everything were spared. Hiccup and I made sure of that.

Even the stone stacks surrounding the island were put to use. With the help of magic-infused claws, caverns were carved into the rocks to create more room. Originally, it was for the dragons, but humans are an odd bunch; where they saw their dragon-kin going, they, too, wanted to follow. This led to what I thought was an extremely precarious expanse of bridges and transport chains. To my relief, however, most humans simply knew to point at the cliffs out at sea to ask a dragon to kindly carry them over. Even the enormous cliffs to the docks took on this change, providing low-lying nests for anyone who wasn’t particularly bothered by the occasional rush of saltwater into their living area.

Oh—and the nests. Gone were the dead-looking, boring, cramped wooden structures. The humans constructed their new homes in the image of dragons , placing the fires inside where the fire-heart of a real dragon was and carving heads, wings, and even tails into the wooden structures. The humans even knew how to make the wood change color, bringing each nest alive with vibrant hues and patterns. These nests were sturdy, wide, and spaced far apart, so that dragon and human may walk side-by-side without crowding. The entrances were huge, gaping maws, like a real cave in a cliff, that usually required some mechanism of Hiccup’s creation to open and close.

The end result was an island that looked and felt completely alien to human and dragon alike. An island that took two completely different species, once filled with hate towards each other, and brought them together not out of need, but out of want. The humans cared for the dragons, and us dragons cared for the humans. Our home reflected that.

The humans couldn’t speak dragon-tongue, but in a way, they didn’t quite need to anymore. Not like they did when the dragons first arrived on Berk and the air smelled always of fear. Many dragons had learned Norse, and in return, humans had learned to read body language to a surprising degree. Which was important, because humans and dragons did everything together now.

We hunted together. We sheltered together. We ate together. We endured hardship and hunger together. We celebrated together. We grieved together. All that there was, we shared equally. That there was no direct communication didn’t matter.

We were one nest, unlike any other in the world.

And for the first time since I was a yearling, I had somewhere to belong.

o.O.o

Berk rose on the ocean’s horizon and my heart swelled. Although I was sore from flying the long distance from the Bog-Burglar nest, I found new strength to speed us forward.

Hiccup laughed. “ Excited to be home? ”

“Very!” I said. I could already taste our nest’s unique scent on the wind: the strange mixture of dragon, human, forest, and metal. It tugged at my core, a home-sense that never quite faded no matter how far we travelled. We’d been gone for half a moon, and I had begun to get homesick. The pull back to Berk had intensified with each passing night.

“I’m ready, too!” Stormfly crowed from our right. “I’m hungry!”

“You’re always hungry,” Hiccup and I said at the same time. The other dragons of our flare—Hookfang, Meatlug, and Barf-and-Belch—all snickered.

Stormfly shook it off easily. “I can’t help it!”

“ You could if you didn’t run around everywhere! ” Hiccup lightly scolded her with an amused overtone. Thankfully, the humans of the other nests were used to Stormfly’s…antics. The first few times she had rushed around their nests, excited to explore somewhere new, had resulted in some very tense discussions about accidentally destroying human things.

“I have lots to do!” Stormfly protested.

Like usual, as we dragons spoke among ourselves, the humans did the same. “Hey, earth to Hiccup!” Snotlout interrupted from his perch on Hookfang. “We’re asking you a question!”

“ What? I mean, what?” he said, jolting upright and shifting back to Norse.

It was the humans’ turn to laugh.

“We were just gossiping about you!” Ruffnut teased.

“Yeah! Look at his hair! So fluffy!” Tuffnut said.

I looked up just in time to see Hiccup run a paw through his fur somewhat self-consciously. His dragon-self had a piece of it that he could draw up and over his head, with little ears and side-frills sticking out from it for good measure. Normally, he wore it when we were around other dragons, but the wind must have blown it completely back.

His dragon-self, made from human materials and woven with my own shed scales, covered most of his body. Over the years, he had added so much to it that he truly appeared himself. There were spines that ran along his back, his calves, and his elbows. His hind paws had some of my shed claws firmly attached to them. Base-fins could snap open from his hips when he pushed a mechanism on his abdomen. His wings no longer stopped at wrists, but instead extended far beyond his paws, fanning with wing-spines just as a Shadow-Blender’s wings does. He had added little rings of leather to them so that he could slip his paws into them, open them, and control the general shape of the wing. Even more delicate, finite things controlled the individual movement of each wing-spine. His wings, like his base-fins, tapered all the way down to his hind paws, connecting just above where his base-fins inserted at his ankles.

In other words, when he was wearing his dragon-self, the fur on his head was nearly the only human feature about him.

Although I would secretly admit that it was quite fluffy.

Rolling my eyes, I looked at Astrid and asked, “What were you really talking about?” I threw my head towards the others for emphasis.

Astrid, like all humans—except, to a very small degree, the human King—was not fluent in dragon-tongue. However, over the years, most had learned to read body language, facial expression, and the most obvious of tones. “We’re discussing report,” she explained. “Fishlegs is handling all the trade logistics, and I’ve got a letter from Bertha to the Chief, but what should we put in on the dragon side of the report?”

Hiccup straightened. “All is well,” he said, and it was like music to my ears. “The dragons there feel just as safe and happy as they did two months ago. Even though the Bog Burglars have been squabbling with the Meatheads, neither side has brought the dragons into it. Our nestmates there told us the same thing.”

Astrid nodded with a satisfied smile. Behind us, Fishlegs had a little book out and was frantically taking notes.

“We’ve given nearly the same exact report for months!” Snotlout complained. He slumped backwards on Hookfang’s neck. “It used to be fun, but now it’s boring. ”

“It’s boring because we’re doing our job right,” Astrid told him sternly. “What you called ‘fun’ was conflict between them and the dragons.”

“And it was not fun,” Hiccup grumbled under his breath. I snorted in agreement. To the surprise of nobody, the transition from fighting with dragons to living with dragons was rocky. Especially without someone like Hiccup there at all times.

“I agree with Astrid,” I said. I paused for Hiccup to start translating to the others and went on, “I wouldn’t trade the constant stress and fear of those times for what we have now. Ever. It’s foolish to call such things ‘ fun ’.”

Snotlout looked properly cowed, so I backed off. While he was boar-headded and very stupid, being so closely related to the human King made him more powerful than your average human. And when he called peacetimes boring and lamented the ending of war...well. With Hiccup to translate for me, I would make my thoughts on that very clear to him.

Especially since it was well known to everyone, human and dragon alike, that Hiccup would not be the heir of the human King.

“This will be almost a year of clear reports now,” Fishlegs piped up. “‘All good’s every other month, and barely any reports through Terror-mail in between.” His eyes flicked towards Hiccup, almost as if reading my mind, before quickly looking away.

I smiled up at my brother, who beamed back at me.

“Maybe we should celebrate with some sauce?” I suggested. Hiccup rolled his eyes and laughed.

By that point, we were upon Berk, just above the sea stacks. Dragons flocked in the air, some carrying humans, some carrying cargo, and some simply flying for the joy of it. I roared to announce our return, and our nestmates cried back in welcome.

An absence of weight on my back, the sound of wings snapping open, and Hiccup lifted up on the air currents bouncing from the ocean and cliffs. He shifted with the wild winds as naturally as any dragon, tilting his wings and wing-spines this way and that to better catch the air.

“We’ll give our report to Dad,” Hiccup called out to his human companions. All of them were looking at him with that mixture of jealousy and awe all humans did when he flew like the dragon he was.

“Alright then,” Astrid said. She turned to our nestmates and commanded, “Fishlegs, you finish writing up the report for the archives. I’m going to go check on the stores for the winter and deliver this letter to the Chief. Ruff, Tuff, you guys...go looking for sea dragons to make friends with.”

“With pleasure!” Ruffnut cried, directing an exasperated Barf-and-Belch back out towards sea.

“You’re just jealous we can find them!” Tuffnut shouted over his shoulder.

They could not, in fact, find them. Sea dragons like the Deep-Swimmer visited on their migration routes, but they didn’t live here. But the task would keep the absurd little humans busy, so I wasn’t going to complain.

“I’ll see you guys for dinner!” Fishlegs said with a wave of his paw.

“Fair winds, my Kings!” Meatlug said in farewell.

“Fair winds!” Hiccup and I returned. The duo bundled off to some large, stone-enforced structure that humans collected ‘books’ and papers in.

“Hey, forget anyone important?” Snotlout said, pointing indignantly at himself. Hookfang also looked anxious to see everyone get a job but them, giving myself and Hiccup a pleading look.

Astrid glanced towards us with a grimace; there was only so much to do after our monthly visits to the other dragon-human-islands, especially with everything going so well now. Even I felt a small pang of guilt; I knew the feeling of not having a need somewhere all too well, as did my brother.

“You can come with us?” Hiccup offered. He swayed side to side and couldn’t seem to help an enormous grin. A particularly strong gust of wind shot up from a nearby sea-stack, knocking him about. He curled into it, letting it shoot him into a spinning ascent.

“Careful!” I hissed, eyeing just how close he was getting to one of the pillars. Hiccup, now above me, flipped upside-down and raised an eyebrow at me.

“ I’m always careful! ” he teased, and then laughed at my offended scoff.

Snotlout considered the offer, ignoring our exchange. “Okay!” he said. “After all, if I’m going to be the next Chief, I should learn from Uncle Stoick about this kind of stuff.”

Hiccup, Astrid, and I shared a very quick glance.

“Well, bye!” Astrid said almost immediately. “Let’s go, Stormfly!”

“Let’s go fast!” Stormfly crowed. She spread her wings wide, put an enormous effort into her downstroke, and zipped away. Astrid’s shout to slow down died on the wind.

“Fantastic,” I groaned with half-lidded eyes. I glanced up at Hiccup, who was still flying upside-down and craning his neck to look at us. “And can you at least look where you’re going?”

He glanced in front of him and let out a small yelp. With practiced speed, he flipped over and took a sharp turn just in time to avoid a Flame-Skin who also wasn’t looking where she was going.

“Oh, sorry!” she shouted over her shoulder. The human on her back, who probably was the reason she was so distracted, also called out an apology.

I grumbled. Hiccup laughed.

“Well, let’s go!” Snotlout called. “You can frolic up here later, can’t you?”

“ Frolic? ” I repeated, shooting him a look.

Hiccup was in too good a mood from flying, however, so he just said, “Alright, alright, let’s get going.” Then he curved his wings, turning towards the nest the humans called the ‘Town Hall’. It was close enough for him to glide to, so I didn’t insist on snatching him out of the air for his own good, which he hated with a passion.

All three of us tucked our wings into shallow dives. I kept myself firmly behind Hiccup, just in case. He didn’t normally crash now, except when he was being exceptionally stupid. Which was often. With his new dragon-self and years of experience with flying as a not-quite-dragon, he was more and more eager to test his own limits.

We swooped down at a slow angle, the wind singing in our ears. Far above the nest, Hiccup braced his wings against the wind, spread his wing-spines out as far as they could go, pushed his hind legs down like they were a tail, and began to twist around the nest. After just one turn around it, he had slowed to a gentle descent and came to a neat landing just in front of the entrance.

I alighted next to him. “Showoff.”

Hiccup shook himself off the dragon way, smiling, and rose to his hind legs. He tucked his wings against his back and pressed something on his dragon-self to lock them in place. Then he spun another metal... thing …to draw his base-fins in. By the time he was done, Hookfang and Snotlout had landed at our side.

“Could you have gotten any closer to the building?” Snotlout asked, exasperated. He leapt off of Hookfang and dusted himself off. “I thought Hookie and I would have to rescue you.”

“ I would be doing the rescuing,” I said, raising my chin and lifting a brow at him.

Snotlout huffed at me, needing no translation. To Hiccup, he asked, “So Uncle Stoick’s here?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said. “He told me just before we left two weeks ago that he’d be working on trade, so we’ll probably find him and Gobber in here.”

We climbed up the rock-steps to the nest, nodding at other dragons and humans that called out in welcome. The entrance was already open, allowing the cool sea air to waft through it. A huge heart-fire burned at its core, and a golden rock shaped into a flying dragon hung above it. I had been told that the rock used to have a sword piercing through the fake-dragon’s heart, but it had long since been removed. Now, the sword’s blade was clamped firmly in the fake-dragon’s jaws.

Several humans and dragons milled about. Fresh food for eating was brought here often, since some humans were tasked with cooking for everyone. Food that wasn’t left in the nest was divided between feeding-nests for dragons and for humans to store away for the winter. Like squirrels.

The smell was enticing. I lifted my head up to get a good whiff of it, taking in the glorious sauce-smell. I could tell they were using some of my favorite plants in it. My stomach rumbled. While the humans and dragons of the nests we visited always offered food, it was never like this.

As expected, we found the human King seated at the end of the large platform surrounding the heart-fire. He was buried in some sheets of paper, muttering to Gobber and other humans about this and that, who wanted what for what, how much shiny stuff they needed for it, how much Berk needed for the winter, blah blah blah. Useless boring human things. Everyone knew the dragons could hunt for everyone if food became scarce after the ocean froze over. Why worry about this in the summer?

The King was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even notice when we came to a stop just next to him.

“Good morning, King,” I said casually.

“Hello, Toothless,” the King mumbled, running a claw along a specific part of his paper.

A moment passed.

The King’s head snapped up. His serious expression melted into joy. “You’re back!” he exclaimed, springing to his feet. He spread his paws wide, laughing, and clapped both myself and Hiccup on our shoulders. Hard. Hiccup winced and I tried not to. “How long have you been back? How did everything go? Are you hungry?”

“Yes!” I said, nodding frantically and eyeing the passageway that led to where the humans were making the food.

“He wants sauce on his,” Hiccup explained. The King shook his head with a knowing smile.

“I have good taste!” I complained. “Why is that so funny to you?”

“ We just love how much you love it ,” Hiccup crooned with a loving overtone, rubbing his side against mine with a purr.

“We’re here to give report!” Snotlout proclaimed, puffing his chest up.

The King regarded him with a somewhat surprised look and asked, “Astrid’s not doing it this time?”

“She’s checking the stores,” Hiccup explained. “We decided to come do it while Fishlegs went to the archives with the written report.”

“Ah,” the King said. Then he gave us his expectant look.

“Everything’s totally boring—I mean, totally great!” Snotlout immediately blundered into it. “The Berserkers are shunning everyone like they always do, which is totally rude but I guess doesn’t matter if they just keep being jerks on their island, and the Hysterics are keeping up with their dragons good and all, and the Meatheads and Bog-Burglars are arguing over something stupid but they haven’t brought their dragons into it, and nobody’s heard about the Drago pirates bothering the outside tribes in a long time, and all the tribes that don’t have dragons on them at least didn’t attack us, even though they still give us mean looks from their ships when we pass by, and—”

“Stop,” the King said.

Snotlout’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click , his eyes wide.

The King looked at Hiccup and me. “What’s this about the Meatheads and Bog-Burglars?”

In the corner of my eye, Snotlout drooped and scowled at the ground.

“Trading dispute,” Hiccup said. “The Bog Burglars purchased materials for their new fishing ships, but apparently got much lower quality than they thought they would and don’t want to pay the whole price. Both of them were pretty heated when they told us about it, but no fighting or dragons are involved. Bertha actually wrote you a letter complaining about it, but Astrid has it.”

The King stroked his fur thoughtfully and shrugged. “Well, they’ll settle that among themselves, then. And the pirates?”

That particular tangle of humans had been a nuisance, but nothing more. After the destruction of the shadow-nest and its shadow-man, many of the humans enslaved there had fled the north. However, some had decided to stay and band together. Now they made a lifestyle of dishonor, stealing from the vulnerable, attacking other nests in the dead of night, trying to trap any human or dragon they could get their filthy paws on, and all-around being an itch we couldn’t scratch. There was no island they lived on; they had spent so long aboard a permanent floating-nest that they were used to it, so nobody ever knew exactly where they were at any given time.

Thankfully, they never dared to approach Berk. The human nests that lived with dragons had solved the problem by just taking some of our nestmates with them on their floating-trees. The humans that refused to live in peace with dragons were attacked and, in my humble opinion, got their just rewards.

“The tribes with dragons haven’t been bothered by them much, so they’ve been looting just a small number of tribes,” Hiccup said with a helpless shrug. “I guess they’ve run them dry and have to go further south to get everything they need.”

The King sighed and shook his head. “And to think, all these years later, we’re still dealing with them.”

Hiccup frowned and pushed against my side. I did the same.

We had tried— truly tried—to find and end this last gasp of the shadow-nest. But the ocean, as it turns out, is a big place. With the rogue humans pillaging further and further south, it became all the more difficult for Berk’s dragons to even find them. In the five years since the shadow-nest’s destruction, our nestmates had only spotted them a few times.

“Maybe we could…” Hiccup began, and sighed. He’d tried to convince the other human nests to help stop them, but everyone thought it was a waste of time when they weren’t the ones being attacked.

“It’s not your fault, Hiccup,” the King said. “And it’s certainly not your responsibility. They were Drago’s men, but they’re not following his orders anymore. They’re just very efficient pirates now. And Eret and his men are seeing to it that they don’t try any dragon-trapping.”

“I know,” Hiccup groaned. “I just wish we could do something about it.”

The King smiled. “That’s because you care.” He rested a paw on Hiccup’s shoulder. Hiccup gave a small smile and leaned into it. “Now, no use in mulling over all that. Is that all you need to report?”

Hiccup and I nodded. Snotlout began nodding right away once he saw us doing it.

The King grinned at Hiccup and me. “That’s great to hear, boys. Now, I’ve got work to do here—” he gestured at his boring papers, “—so I’ll see you tonight for dinner. But I’ve got something to ask of you. It’s Haugaeldr.”

Hiccup and I shared a grim look. The hatchling that was once Sphere, and whom the King had named Haugaeldr, had been...difficult. I couldn’t blame him.

He’d been strictly forbidden from learning magic by the elders and, therefore, was the only dragon in all of Berk that didn’t know how to use it. Hiccup felt it was unfair and argued with the elders about it constantly, but I found myself inclined to agree with them. With his complicated past and his history of using powerful magic for all the wrong reasons, it seemed for the better.

Even if now, in his new life, he didn’t understand why. Nobody except Hiccup, myself, the King, and the elders knew of his true identity. It would stay that way. Haugaeldr would, eventually... hopefully ...find something new to focus on.

“Upset again?” I asked. Hiccup translated.

The King nodded. “He’s been bored and moping ever since you left. And that means he bothers me . Give him something to do—something important. I’ve set him on a scouting mission around the island for now, but soon he’ll see through it and come back.”

Hiccup gave me that sad, poor-thing look he always did when we discussed Haugaeldr’s restrictions. I flattened my eyelids.

“We’ll go find him,” Hiccup said in a low voice, his shoulders drooping.

The King deflated in visible relief. “Thank you,” he said. “I swear, if he tries to grab my ink from me and scribble all over these documents one more time…”

I couldn’t help but grin at the visual. “Well, at least you entertain him!” I said. To Hiccup, “Should we go now?”

He nodded and clambered onto my back. “We’ll see you later, Dad,” he said.

“Yes, and you’ll have to tell me more about your trip,” he said. He got back to his papers and the humans who had been not-so-patiently waiting for us to stop talking.

“And I’ll , uh, do something important!” Snotlout shouted, as if he had to re-insert himself into the conversation through volume alone.

I spared him a glance and then looked up at Hiccup. He glanced towards the entrance of the nest.

“We’ll see you later, Snotlout!” he said.

Taking that as my cue, I turned, ran out of the entrance, and took to the air. Berk dropped below me, with all of its familiar smells and sounds. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, purring. Hiccup pressed his forehead against mine and rumbled along with me.

It was good to be home.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

nameless

Though I did not need to, I called out into the deep water with my sight-sounds. The image that blossomed from their reverberations was familiar, a path I had taken long enough to swim by memory.

There was a slight vibration on my scales. My ears and frills pricked at the faint sight-sounds bouncing off of me, but because I was not the one who made them, I couldn’t make sense of them. I sight-sounded myself, jerking away as another dragon of my flock materialized before me.

They let out their naming call in its own unique clutter of rumbles, clicks, and whistles. A pang of envy struck my heart. It was Hunted a Whale, who was the same age as me, who got to have a name, and who was mad at me.

Her growl vibrated the water, distorting my sight-sounds and crafting a blurry image of her movements. You’re late! As if to pipe up in agreement, her stomach rumbled along with her.

I whined in apology, drooping and sinking in the cool water. Hunted a Whale gave another irritated growl and thrust past me. As she did, she flicked her tailfins out so that they bit into my hide, sharp enough to draw blood. I winced away, curling against the stony wall of the underwater river.

Desperate to fix things, I cried one more apology into the black. I didn’t think I was late, but maybe I was?

Twisting, I paddled my tail and wings, sight-sounding in earnest. The cavern’s paths emerged in my mind’s eye. An occasional glowing crystal dotted the tunnels, casting faint, colorful light that less-experienced dragons needed.

I closed my eyes and put my faith in my sight-sounds. The underground river surged against me, trying to swallow me into its depths.

o.O.o

Through the twining tunnels I swam. There was that sharp curve to the right, there ahead was that stalagmite that I crashed into as a swimling, there was the divergence of the tunnel into three other paths— there!

I opened my wings to slow down and swam upwards. The current fought to drag me back down into it. Weak and small as I was, the Under of the Shell was more my home than any sun-dappled mountain crystal. I brushed the clinging currents off, flapping my wings and swinging my tail.

A bulge of the water, a shock of air, and I launched into the cool, green-smell air of the nesting-place. I opened my wings and flapped, keeping sure to make my landing gentle.

“There you are!” a male dragon cheered. “You’re taking over caretaking responsibility, right?”

I turned towards the voice and let out a stream of sight-sounds. He was larger than me, although that didn’t mean much. His left ear had been torn halfway off, creating a distinctive shadow in my mind’s eye. His scent was familiar, a musky mix between rain and moss.

“Yes, Saved the Swimlings,” I whispered, dipping my head.

“Thank the Prebirth, I was worried I would starve—you’ve saved me! Maybe I should bring you some of my catch back to thank you. Also, these little troublemakers here need some practice, even on a dead fish!” 

“I’m certain they would like that,” I said in a near hush, shifting a bit from foot to foot. My heart sung in my chest, but I guarded myself against the hope that blossomed there. Only down in the Under did dragons ever act so kind to me, and never, never, for long.

“Why are you so quiet? Is something bothering you?” he asked, concerned. “Don’t worry, I can help.” He aimed a casual round of sight-sounds at me and sniffed the air. Then he gave a sharp intake of air. “Oh.”

My ears and wings lowered.

Saved the Swimlings scraped his claws on the ground with a snort of disapproval. “You could stand to lower yourself more to me, nameless. ”

I crouched until my belly pressed against the smooth river-stone and laid my neck on the ground. “I’m sorry,” I breathed.

His tail flung across the ground with the sound of rushing leaves. He raised his wings and lowered them again, disturbing the air just enough to feel the slight wind of it. A terse silence passed. I felt his glower searing into me.

“May I take over my responsibility?” I asked in as polite a voice as I could manage.

My sight-sounds reflected off his broad shoulders and neck as he lifted himself into a high, regal pose. “Certainly,” he said with forced haughtiness. “After all, I have no reason to pick a fight with a cursed thing like you .”

He shouldered past me—hard. I stumbled to the side. As I fought to regain my footing, he snapped his tail out, allowing the sharp barbs of his fins to pierce into my hide. I forced myself not to flinch.

A splash, a slight tremble along the water, and he was gone, having already dipped into the underground river.

I waited, tense like a prey animal peering out from its burrow.

Once I was certain it was safe, I rose up from my crouch and sniffed at where he’d stung me. It bled a little. I licked it clean, shook myself off, and sighed. It wasn’t that bad; he could have clawed or bitten me, after all. If I had been late, maybe I even deserved it.

Taking some solace in that reasoning, I composed myself and padded over to the swimlings. It was him and his brother, her, and her from another dragon, and him as well. They all waited with anticipation, too young to have noticed anything unusual with the wrongdoing they had witnessed. Little vibrations against my scales told me of their attempts to use their own sight-sounds.

I slammed my paws on the ground. “Who can catch me?!” I cried, bolting away into the tunnels.

High-pitched squeals bounced on the walls, followed by the pitter-patter of dozens of swimling claws scampering across wet stone. I gave them a challenge, climbing onto stones and stalagmites and crawling into nooks in the cavern walls, all as silent as a spirit. The swimlings had to use their sight-sounds to find me.

I squeezed into a crevice. All of them skittered past me...except for one. He halted, ears twitching against my sight-sounds. Though I knew they were giving me away, I continued to chitter in his direction. His ears and frills stuck straight up. He whipped about, claws clacking on the ground and little nose twitching. Spinning in a slow circle, he let out several bursts of high-pitched sight-sounds. They were too slow for use in high speeds like swimming, running, or flying.

But when he finally aimed them at me and felt them bounce off of me, he let out a victorious shriek and pounced onto my chest.

“You found me!” I wailed in mock despair, falling to the ground and rolling onto my back. “And I hid so well!”

“I got you! I saw you!” he crowed, climbing atop my belly and preening. His clutchmates scrambled back over to us, amazed that they had run right past me and that he had found me anyway. He launched into a retelling of what had just happened, and his peers gasped in admiration with every over-dramatic twist of his tale.

“Alright, alright,” I finally interrupted him, nudging him down and rolling over onto my stomach. “Now, let me teach you all how to use your sight-sounds to find me next time. It’s important to learn how to do this, or you’ll never be able to swim out of these rivers to the higher levels.” 

The swimlings clambered atop me, nestling into the warmth I provided. “ Why do we have to?” one female whined.

“Well, you want to go Above, don’t you?”

“I like it Under!” she announced.

I chuckled. “I do, too.” My smiled faded, but luckily, they couldn’t see that. “But you need to go Above, so you can meet all of our flockmates. By the time you emerge in the lower levels of the Above, where the mushrooms grow large and the mountains cast shadows, you will be strong enough to be flightlings.”

A male lounging on my forehead patted me with his little pine-needle claws. “And then we go up, right?”

“That’s right!” I cooed. “Just like the Under, there are levels in the Above, but they are made by mountains and crystals, plateaus and valleys, steppes and buttes. Waterfalls fall hundreds of wingbeats into rivers and lakes, which then flow Under. Forests and foliage cover all the land they can. Mushrooms glow in the shadows.” I wrinkled my nose, remembering the sting-smell of the organisms. I never liked them. “As you learn to fly, you ascend higher and higher until you are only met with the sky, and then you are a nameless young adult.”

“I wanna fly!” one swimling cried. “Can’t you take us up now?”

“No.” I made my voice uncharacteristically stern so that they would listen. “Remember, you are responsible for finding your way Above. No dragon will carry you, but the currents will, if you are not strong enough.”

They quieted at the ominous thought. I let them dwell on it, keeping to myself that I would never let a swimling be lost to the dark rivers. After all, they might try to leave the Under while I was not there, taking up some other responsibility. I wouldn’t make a promise that I couldn’t guarantee.

Sobered, the swimlings were much more eager to learn now. I focused on each one’s skills, showing them my sight-sounds and correcting the mistakes I heard. Then, when all of them were confident, I dashed away without warning, shouting at them to find me again.

Just like that, the dreadful thoughts of being lost underwater dissipated like morning mist. The swimlings shrieked and gave chase, sending their sight-sounds out ahead of them like sun rays through a canopy.

And so we played: me hiding in increasingly difficult places and the swimlings stumbling through the dark after me, honing their skills and competing with each other to see who could find me first. In the simple joy of play, all else was forgotten. I didn’t worry about the painful stings in my side, nor that my stomach was growing emptier by the hour. The game was joyful, and in that joy, I helped them grow.

It was only when their exhaustion showed in their slogging footsteps that I called an end to the game. “Come along,” I said, “I want to show you something.” When the swimlings moaned in protest, I asked, “Well, I suppose you won’t see something amazing , then...”

That perked them up. I spread my wings low across the ground, pulling them all towards me. Then, urging them along, I led them down a tunnel, dragging my tail on the ground for them to hold. They eagerly grabbed on with their gums and trotted after me, their stumpy, plump tails sticking straight up.

We wove through the familiar gloom, the ground below smoothed by thousands of dragon footfalls. I had no need for my sight-sounds, but used them anyway to set an example. Soon, however, even the swimlings didn’t need them.

“Look!” I said. “Do you see it?”

In answer, the swimlings gasped and whispered in awe to each other. Up ahead, a dim, rose-colored light had emerged from the black. All of them squeezed close to me, sheltering beneath the mantle of my wings.

“Don’t worry,” I murmured to them, leaning down and nosing each one in comfort. “It’s safe. Watch!”

I walked into the open cavern. Dozens of glimmering crystals jutted out of the floor, ceiling, and walls. They awoke as I neared, coming to life like an individual sunrise in their own right, and bringing just as much warmth. Some were gold, some lilac, some soft pink, some yellow-white. To my eyes, the colors bled into a soothing wash. Were it not for my sight-sounds, I would have never been able to avoid the sharp edges of the stones. The swimlings, following at my feet, tip-toed forward with their backs arched, little gray-blue smudges against the brilliance.

I had not realized it, but being so young, this must have been the first time they saw something— truly saw with their eyes instead of sight-sounds. A few clung close to me, wary of the new and overwhelming sensation of sight. I leaned down and nosed their rumps, pushing them out from below me. Better to face the fear now rather than be frightened by the sun later.

“Is this what the Above is like?” one swimling wondered.

“A little,” I said. “These are crystals. They grow out of all the soil of our home and form the Shell that protects us from Outsiders.”

The swimlings were emboldened now, tottering across the cavern and sniffing the crystals. One rose up on her hind legs and cautiously batted at one. When it glowed brighter in response, she let out a yelp, fell backwards, and scrambled back to her paws and all the way back to me.

“It was warm!” she whimpered, curling up between my paws and peeking out at the crystals.

“I’m glad you noticed,” I said, leaning down towards her. “It’s warm for a reason. Do you know why?”

If I squinted, I could just make out the amber of her wide, confused eyes. She tipped her head to the side.

“Does anyone else know?” I asked the rest of her clutchmates. They abandoned their investigations and trotted back over to me, tails and ears standing straight up, eager to learn something new.

“What is it? Is it a story?” one of the males asked hopefully.

“I could tell the story,” I hummed. “But just a few moments ago all of you were so tired…”

“No, we’re not!” all of them cried out, jumping about at my feet. “Tell us! Tell us!”

I closed my eyes and lifted my head high in imitation of our flock’s leader. “Hm…” I wondered. “Well...if you all stay awake...then maybe I could—”

The swimlings began cheering and leaping in the air before I could even finish. I laughed and settled down on the warm crystal floor. The swimlings fought each other to get on top of me, nestling in the nooks of my legs, on my shoulder beneath my wings, and curled up against my belly. One of them yawned. His clutchmate slapped him with his tail to wake him up more.

“The world began in the Under,” I began. “It was warm and safe, filled with vessels of water and magma. At its center were four hearts: the hearts of the first ones, the first dragons. There was Created the Land, who was so big that their scales formed the Above, with all of its mountains and earth. There was Created the Water, who bled the oceans and rivers that we hunt in. There was Created the Sky, who breathed the air we need for our lungs and for flying. Lastly, there was Created the Fire, whose magma warmed the world and the hearts of living creatures. 

“These are the great ancestors of dragons. It is why we alone are blessed creatures of earth, sky, water, and fire. It is why we are born in the Under, sheltered by the earth, and swim through the rivers to the Above, where we can meet the sky and make our fire.”

“Was that the Prebirth?” one swimling asked.

“Yes,” I said. “You heard Saved the Swimlings mention it earlier, didn’t you? The Prebirth is the sacred time when the first ones lived together. When they had completed their creation, they curled upon each other until one land of earth, sky, water, and fire came to be. In this time, life began to form. Plants grew. Fish started to fill the sea. Storms and stars emerged in the sky and little animals began to fly in it. It was a fragile time with fragile creatures, because the first ones made it in waiting. Do you know for what?”

“The first egg!” a swimling squeaked.

“Very good!” I said. “With their bodies and souls, the first ones changed into the first egg. They had nurtured the earth just as we nurture eggs before they hatch, so that the creatures inside may live and thrive. But…”

I paused. The swimlings held their breath.

“Something terrible happened.”

I reached out a paw and used my sight-sounds to touch a nearby crystal. Its rosy hue brightened. The warmth it provided brought a forlorn smile to my lips.

“The first egg was for us, the dragons. But the first ones weren’t the only ones. Out of their image for us, two beings stole the shape of the dragons and the nurturing energy of the first egg. They emerged from the first egg instead of the dragons, shattering the bodies and souls of the first ones in their wake.”

“How?!” a swimlight gasped, shrinking closer to me. “If they made the whole world, what could hurt them?”

“They used magic ,” I said, growling the cursed word. “The power to steal the first ones’ blessings and shape it to their own liking. The two beings emerged from the first egg and declared themselves holy. They called themselves the Dragoness of the Moon and the Dragon of the Sun and then began to war with each other, creating chaos all throughout the Above.”

“Didn’t the first ones stop them? What did they do?” someone asked.

I sighed and shook my head. “They died.”

The swimlings gasped and whimpered, curling up against my hide.

“But,” I said. “The world is their creation, and they live through it. These crystals are remnants of their hearts and blood. It’s why they’re warm, and why when you touch them…” I patted the crystal again, prompting it to glimmer, “...they glow, showing us that the first ones are still watching over us. For there is danger and war in the world now. That is why we raise our swimlings in the Under, out of the magic-wielders’ sight.”

I lifted my head as if I could see the Above. “The Dragon of the Sun and Dragoness of the Moon still live to this day. They possessed the sun and moon and live inside them. But they are not the creators of this world, nor the sun and moon. They cannot truly understand everything, and they cannot see below the ocean or the ground. That is why our Shell is our sanctuary. It is the remains of the first egg. Even though the magic-wielders stole from it, dragons were already growing in it. We were born in time, smaller and less powerful than the first ones intended. But we survived. And we , unlike them, are creatures of the earth, water, sky, and fire. We live in all domains, while they can only rule above in the heavens.”

I leaned down and nudged the enraptured swimlings. “So do you understand now? Why we begin life in the Under, and why swimlings must bring themselves to the Above?”

“We have to be strong,” said the male who had found me first in our game.

“Yes,” I said, “and you will be, with this training. There are dragons that have abandoned the Shell and gone to live only in the sky. They have forgotten the first ones and taken on the magic-wielders as their gods. Even worse, they have been granted magic in return. They are the Outsiders, and we must always be ready to protect our sacred home from them.”

“I’ll fight them all!” one swimling declared, rearing on her hind legs and lifting menacing pine-needle claws. “Away from our sacred land, Outsider!” she screeched. She leapt clumsily into one of her clutchmates, who immediately began wrestling with her.

“I’m an Outsider!” he shouted. “I hate the first ones and love fake gods!”

“Get the Outsider!” another swimling shrieked from my back, tumbling down and joining the fray.

“Not if you can’t catch me! I have magic!” he cried, bolting away and becoming nothing but a gray-blue blur against the vivid colors. His clutchmates all rushed away from me to pursue him. He laughed with the simple joy of a good chase.

“Remember to use your sight-sounds!” I called after the no-longer-sleepy swimlings. They did just that, reverberating through the cavern at a much faster and higher frequency than before. Pride filled me. They had learned well.

And so, the swimlings played a very long game of Chase the Outsider. When they were eventually caught, the one pretending to be “the Outsider” cried out that they were defeated and their magic gone, prompting celebration and bravado from the others. Then someone would suddenly cry out that they were an Outsider the whole time and bolt away, trying to outrun and sneakily hide. I lied on the warm crystal, eyes half-lidded with contentment.

But as always, the swimlings tired out—and when they did, it was fast. It seemed that within the blink of an eye, they went from scampering all across the crystals to plodding over to me and nestling up to my side. I counted each one as they came, breathing in their scent and giving them a quick bath with my tongue.

One lifted her head as I bathed her, eyelids fluttering heavily. “What do we call you?” she asked.

The question stunned me. I halted, tongue still half-out. Dread brought me back to my senses and I composed myself.  “I...don’t have a name, yet,” I said, struggling to keep my voice gentle and even.

“But you’re old ,” she said.

I snorted. “Not that old!”

“But Fought the Leader told us stories of elder dragons, and that they were so old their scales turned gray and white.” She sniffed my leg, which she was resting on. “She said ‘white’ is the brightest color, ever, and you are the brightest dragon, ever! Even more than the crystals!”

It was difficult to keep my discomfort from showing. I shifted, looking away until I was certain she would not know she had upset me, and then craned my neck down to see her better. “You’re right,” I murmured. “My scales are white. The rest of our species are different colors of gray, with scales on their necks that catch the sun and nearly glow.” I poked her with my nose. “ Yours are green!”

She giggled, batting me away, and then swung around to investigate her clutchmates’ scales. A relieved smile touched my lips.

“But why are you white?” one of the males asked.

Despite my best efforts, my ears and frills went flat against my head. “I don’t know,” I whispered.

They all blinked at me, shocked that I didn’t know everything in the world.

I stretched my jaw wide in an enormous, toothy yawn. “Well!” I said. “I’m getting sleepy! Aren’t you?” Curling my tail around them and shrouding them with my wings, I nosed them close to my side. “When we wake, I want to teach you all how to swim against a current. But you must be well-rested! So sleep, and no pretending!” I set them with my sternest, narrow-eyed look. “I’ll know if you do!”

The swimlings all but flung themselves into sleeping arrangements, clenching their eyes shut and trying to force themselves to fall asleep. I chuckled, running my tongue over them again, soothing them away. Like all dragons of their age, they surrendered to sleep quick enough.

Only to be sure, I lifted my head and sniffed the air to check for any odd scents hanging about. Trilling with my sight-sounds revealed nothing unusual. When I was sure that all was safe, I tucked my head beneath the half-translucent membrane of my wing.

I slipped into sleep to the soft whooshing of breathing dragons—a privilege that I was so often denied.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Hiccup

Haugaeldr, being the most perceptive dragon I had ever met, saw us first.

"Hiccup! Toothless!"

I perked up on Toothless' back, looking off towards the forested part of Berk. For a moment, I saw nothing, squinting against the bright midday sun.

There was a flicker of movement, and Haugaeldr emerged from the sunlight like a mirage. His golden-orange scales gleamed in the sunlight, giving his nameー"burial mound fire"ーsome merit. He had grown a lot since we'd first found him, although he was still shorter than Toothless. His body was lithe, graceful, and serpentine. Winding horns sprouted from just behind long, deer-like ears, and nubs behind his nostrils and under his chin suggested that tendrils would grow as he aged. He undulated in the air as he flew towards us.

"You're back!" he cheered, spinning in joyful circles around us. "It's been two weeks, one day, and a few hours!"

"You counted the hours?" Toothless asked, bemused, as he pulled into a hover.

I grinned. Of course he did. He was Haugaeldr. "What are you doing out here?"

"Scouting mission!" he announced, puffing his chest up and lifting his chin. "I thought I would look out here, since there's much less dragons and humans around to keep watch. Then I thought I would draw what I saw. Can I borrow your sandbox to practice?"

I nodded, making a mental note to just make one for him already. He practically owned it at this point, he asked for it so much. I was honestly surprised he wasn't carrying it with him.

"Excellent!" Haugaeldr cried. "Let's be off, then!"

With that, he was gone, a flurry of reflected sunlight and spinning excitement.

"Well, at least he isn't moping anymore," I said to Toothless, who huffed in agreement.

"He'll be happier now that Stormfly and Hookfang are back," he said. He turned his wings into the wind to follow Haugaeldr, who wasn't waiting for us in his haste. The forest sped by below. A light fog shrouded it. The rich smells of earth and pine rose in the air.

"I still think there's no harm in taking us with him on our trips," I said.

Toothless rolled his eyes. "Yes, so he can stick his nose where it doesn't belong so much, he needs a babysitter?"

I grimaced. Haugaeldr had a knack for focusing on things he wasn't supposed to.

Like magic.

Toothless didn't need to look at me to understand my sigh. He hummed with an understanding overtone. We reached the outer edge of Berk and he dipped a wing to take us deeper into the village. The colorful, dragon-shaped buildings below looked almost like the inside of a nest.

"I just don't like it," I said. "It's not fair. I remember...when...well, when we were being controlled all those years ago...having restrictions only made me want what was forbidden more."

Toothless had stiffened up at the mention of the Queen, no matter how indirect. "We are not like her," he spat. A few of our nestmates who were close enough to hear jolted at his sharp tone, zipping away hurriedly or snapping their heads up in surprise.

I purred soothingly until I felt the tense muscles of his back relax. "We aren't. But I really think we're going at this wrong. We can't send him on scouting missions or hope he feels better when his friends come home forever."

Toothless sighed. "I know," he eventually said, albeit grudgingly. "But I don't want him to get hurt. What if something happens?"

By then, we swept over the smithy, banked, and landed just outside its entrance. Haugaeldr paced impatiently in front of the entrance. Since Gobber was helping Dad with trade, he wasn't explicitly blocked from entering, but he knew he wasn't allowed inside. Mostly because last time, he'd knocked over a basin with molten metal and had gotten a nasty burn from it.

I hopped off of Toothless and stepped inside. Toothless was allowed inside—as if he would ever follow a rule that separated the two of us—but he stayed outside for Haugaeldr's sake. They began chatting about our most recent trip; who we saw, any new developments, how relations were going. I slipped past the haphazards of smelting equipment and slipped into my "office".

Inside was the familiar smell of paper, coal, and fire—the scent of inspiration, of hard work, of success and failure, of staying up too late working on something no matter how much I knew I would regret it in the morning. The walls were so littered with drawings, concepts, and blueprints that I had even installed some shelves just to stack them. The wallspace around my workbench was the most important, a stark contrast of order against the chaos.

The sandbox. The pencil-holder. The parchment rolls. The satchels to hold them, designed to fit snug against the body to reduce air drag and coated with dragon-scale paint to be weatherproof and fireproof. Even the lightweight armor, meticulously positioned so that it could be easily put on and off again.

All things I would need once I returned to my dragon form. The ball of light at my forehead, once an empty shell, warmed me with anticipation.

I grabbed the sandbox and put the strap attached to it over my shoulder with a small grunt of effort. It was as heavy as it looked, and with it hanging from my shoulder, it was nearly as long as I was tall. Rolling my shoulders, I turned to leave.

I glanced back at my desk one last time. A surprised grin bloomed on my lips.

"Oh, there it is!" I said to myself. My rough draft of my Book of Dragonese had been under the sandbox. I'd looked all over for it before we left two weeks ago. Eventually, I had thrown my hands up in the air and assumed that I had left it somewhere at our house instead of in the smithy. Toothless had griped about me being disorganized for days and worried that it had been lost for good, forcing me to start over, but I'd known it would show up eventually.

I took the book as well and walked back outside. "Oh, Toothless," I said in sing-song. "Look what I found!"

He looked over and sighed with relief. "It's a miracle you found it in all that mess!"

"I found it in a few seconds!" I retorted. "And you complained about it for days!"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation and started to speak, but Haugaeldr bounced past him.

"Thank you! Do you have parchment!" he shouted. When I produced some, he grinned in delight and padded in place. "Excellent! I don't think we have a map of the tall, snowy mountains!"

We did. Several of Berk's sailors were pretty good cartographers, and once they were on the backs of dragons, they had been eager to test out how much easier mapping was.

"Hm, maybe not," I said, sharing a knowing look with Toothless. I handed the sandbox to Haugaeldr, who took it in his teeth and set it down.

The sandbox was a communication device, meant to be used anywhere—especially where there was not dirt to scrawl in. It was, essentially, a wooden box with a lid that slid off to the side instead of opening on a hinge. A handle stuck out from the right edge of the lid, and when pulled to the left, the top half of the sandbox rolled on a well-oiled track, all the way out until stoppers at the far-left edge kept it from falling off. The inside, shockingly, was full of dense sand. There, a dragon could use their claws to write, or, as Haugaeldr often preferred, use the pencil-holder made of leather straps. When used slowly, it acted like a calligraphy pen, making fine lines just as small as any human could make. For this reason, the top lid of the sandbox had a wooden lip on it. There, parchment could be slid under it and secured.

In order to close the sandbox, one only had to grab the lid, slide it down the track to the right, and then push down to snap the lock on. The inside edge of the lid had a thin bar sticking out of it that flattened the sand as it closed. In this way, the sand could be smoothed into an even edge very quickly, when "speaking" quickly was necessary.

Haugaeldr lay down in front of it, grabbed the handle , and pushed the sandbox open. He craned his neck to me, gently nipped the parchment out of my hands, and then slipped it under the lip of the lid. Then he nosed the pencil-holder into position, slipped his paw through it, and tightened it to a comfortable fit with ease. With his other claws, he clicked the charcoal stick into place. Humming a happy tune, he began sketching with the charcoal stick in the sand.

All of this passed in just a few moments—as quickly as I soon hoped to achieve. As easy as it looked, it was an incredible feat. It took Toothless several minutes to get the same thing done, mostly because he struggled with the straps of the pencil-holder.

Haugaeldr quickly drew a sketch of Berk's tallest mountains, closed the sandbox and opened it again to flatten the sand out, and sketched them again—this time, much more precisely. Then he got to work on the parchment, referencing his drawing in the sand to create an impressive copy on the paper. His paw was steady and his strokes slow, careful, and focused.

Toothless and I watched him: me with pride, and Toothless with bafflement.

"It's beyond me how you caught on to this so fast," Toothless said.

"It's all about balance!" Haugaeldr said. "Making sure to use just enough force to hold it and not break it."

"Yes, but I mean...this," Toothless gestured with his head at the map. "Making pictures from your head."

Haugaeldr paused a brief moment to look at him, head tipped aside with a frown. "But it's so easy. You think it, and then draw it." He turned back to his map and began drawing again.

"Oh, yes, it's just so simple," Toothless huffed, rolling his eyes. "That's why every dragon on this island but you struggles with this, right?"

"Hiccup does just fine!" Haugaeldr retorted. He seemed to finish then, putting his paw down. He craned his neck over the parchment and tilted his head side to side, eyeing it from all angles. Then, with a satisfied snort, he nipped at the straps to the pencil-holder, released it, and set it in the sandbox. He pushed the whole thing closed again and slipped the parchment out with reverent care. Then he turned to us and displayed it with pride.

"Very good!" I praised him. "Soon you'll be mapping out the whole island!"

He puffed up with pride. "I already have!" he said around the parchment. "Well, but not on paper. Here!" He handed it to me. "The King asked me to scout, but I scouted and made a map!"

"I'm sure he'll be very impressed," I said. I knew I was. Like Toothless said, it was nothing short of amazing that he had learned all of this so quickly, especially when older and wiser dragons could barely wrap their heads around the concept of writing. Or maybe him being so young was why it was so easy for him. Either way, he was the only dragon in all of Berk who had learned to draw with my sandbox, although I had tried to teach our nestmates several times.

"Do you think he'll let me do more?" Haugaeldr asked, his eyes wide and overtone anxious. "I always try to exceed what he asks of me. I want to show him I'm ready to do anything!"

"You can do a lot," Toothless said with a warning tone. "But you also stick your nose where it doesn't belong far too often."

He let out an exasperated breath and squirmed, tail thumping the ground with agitation. "I won't cause any problems! I just want to learn about new places!"

"And someday, you will," I said with a reassuring overtone. I held up his map. "Especially with work like this!"

He brightened, annoyance forgotten. "Let's go show your father!" he exclaimed. There was a gust of wind and a fiery blur, and he was gone.

Toothless raised an eyebrow at me. "You shouldn't encourage him like that—telling him he can come with us someday."

"But he might," I pressed. "When he's older and less…" I waved my hands around. "All over the place."

"Like now?" Toothless said, pointing with his nose where Haugaeldr had gone. He was twirling in erratic, happy spirals, forcing all of the dragons flying around him to scramble out of the way to avoid a collision.

I grinned sheepishly. "He'll grow out of it?" At Toothless' flat look, I sighed, looped the sandbox over his neck, and climbed onto his shoulders. "Well, hopefully he will. Maybe we can turn this into a learning opportunity for him!"

"Oh, yes, I'm sure the lesson will hit this time!" Toothless chuckled. He took off and chased lazily after our hyperactive ward.

As he flew, I studied the map. It really was impressive. Haugaeldr had even tried to add elevation lines, which I knew he'd learned from studying other maps. It was nearly perfect, except for one thing. There were lines that stuck out into blank space, unlabeled. I frowned thoughtfully, tracing them with a finger and trying to imagine the real thing in my mind's eye. It seemed the lines were connecting to noteworthy landmarks on the map; I recognized the general areas for bridges and abandoned buildings, but other lines lead to places I didn't know.

I glanced up at Haugaeldr in the distance, my eyes widening in realization. Was he trying to…?

With a grin, I put the map into our Book of Dragonese.

I had a job for him that he would be ecstatic to work on.

o.O.o

We spent that night at home, after being gone for so long. After two weeks of sleeping outside under the stars, I couldn't help glancing up at the ceiling every now and then with a frown. Our house still felt like home, but in a claustrophobic, cozy kind of way.

Dad and I sat at the fire with Toothless resting beside us and Haugaeldr fawning over his map. Dad had been just as surprised by it as me, which may have filled Haugaeldr's head with too many ideas.

I flipped through the Book of Dragonese. It described all aspects of dragon communication, from body language to general tones to overtones. But it was no dictionary.

Except, maybe, until now.

"Haugaeldr," I said in Norse. He perked up. Glancing at Dad, I said, "I think I have a job for you."

"What is it?!" he cried, leaping over to us in a flurry of flailing limbs, knocking over a table in the process.

Dad chuckled and gave me a see what I mean? kind of look. I couldn't even imagine how eager Haugaeldr was when we weren't home.

"You know how I've been working on this, right?" I said, showing him the book.

He nodded. "Of course! I think it's a wonderful idea, although I've no idea how you plan on converting our language to Norse."

"Exactly," I said. "Norse doesn't have the ability to convey Dragonese."

Toothless audibly groaned at the name, just like he did every time I said it out loud.

"But," I said, giving him a playful cuff over the head, "I think that's why I've had so much trouble with it. I've been going at it all wrong, trying to squeeze Norse into dragon sounds."

"Yes, our vocalizations are far more complex than a human's," Haugaeldr said, nodding sagely. He grimaced and glanced at Dad. "Oh, um, sorry."

Dad lifted an eyebrow and looked at me, clearly recognizing the apologetic tone but having no idea why it was being directed at him.

I shook my head to show it wasn't important. "It's hard because dragons layer their sounds. You can only make so many unique noises, but with tone, pitch, length, overtones, and by making more than one sound at once, you're able to speak full sentences. With humans, we make every individual sound of every part of a word, because we can do that and it works. It's why it takes us much longer to say something than it takes you to say the same thing."

That was one of, if not the largest, barriers to other humans learning Dragonese. Dragon-speech was fast, efficient, and detailed. It required essentially listening for several different things all at the same time—like dunking your head partway underwater and listening to the air and sea at the same time. Most people couldn't detect the subtle differences, hearing just "one" sound when there were many. That was why dragon-speech sounded like mangled grunts and roars when each small variation, no matter how subtle, changed the meaning of what was said. Individual words sounded different depending on if they were in a sentence or alone.

This made learning incredibly frustrating, because a human could memorize what each word in a sentence sounded like and ask a dragon to actually string them together, only to hear something that sounded, to them, completely different. The sentence would likely come out only a little bit longer than the words themselves, but significantly more complex in sound than any individual word. Because of this, most adults struggled immensely to understand real, fluid Dragonese, and not simple, one-word answers that were neatly cut out from other sentences for their convenience.

It was also, on the other hand, why many dragons still struggled to learn Norse. Human speech was slow and emotionless and boring to many dragons. They felt like we went on and on and on just to say the simplest thought. It was a struggle to decipher emotions and implications without overtones to help. It was why many dragons called Norse "flat", meaning that it had no variation despite the complexity of the sounds themselves. Ironically enough, many dragons who hadn't learned Norse thought the same thing about human speech that humans thought of dragon speech: that it was all just the same sounds over and over.

This, in turn, made writing and reading almost impossible for our nestmates. How could they decipher a symbolic form of such a strange language that spoke so much to say so little? Even drawing was hard for them because of this. Taking spoken word and thought and changing its very form, while still communicating the same idea, was not a concept any dragon had ever heard of until now.

These barriers made both species learn how to communicate with body, expression, and tone more than anything, which essentially forced both sides to develop an incredible emotional intelligence for each other. In all honesty, that probably helped bind human and dragon culture together much better than spoken language over the past few years, because it forced understanding between the two groups. But now, it wasn't enough for us.

There was hope, however. I'd begun to notice the younger children of Berk trying to imitate the sounds of their dragon nestmates, and the dragons encouraging them in response.

This meant that this crazy dream of mine, which I had been so worried was impossible, had some wind beneath its wings.

"Haugaeldr," I said, "can you help me write this book?"

He stared, stricken.

With a crash, he began bouncing around the room, knocking over everything that wasn't screwed into the floor. "Yes! Yes! Yes! That sounds wonderful!"

"Mind the furniture!" Dad laughed, although he did look nervously at the chairs and tables that were getting thrown around. Haugaeldr settled down immediately, schooling himself into a calm, poised posture. "Well, I'm glad we've found something for you to work on. How do you think you'll go about...this?" he gestured at the book.

"That's why I need your help," I said to Haugaeldr, who wiggled with pride and excitement, tail thumping so much he sent vibrations through the floor. "I need help writing down dragon speech in a way that humans can read it."

"I'm sure we can transcribe it!" Haugaeldr crowed, all four of his feet tapping rapidly on the ground.

"And then, maybe with being able to read it, it'll be easier to listen to it as well," I said, glancing at a now-skeptical Dad.

"Well," he said. "Maybe if dragons spoke like Toothless, that could help."

"You—mean—like—this?" Toothless asked, speaking in the slow and methodical way he had once used when I was still learning Dragonese. It was basically speaking dragon the way humans did: dragging every little sound out, one at a time, and removing the overtone. It got the point across, but was incredibly difficult for dragons to understand, as we had learned the hard way.

Dad nodded. "Yes—just like that," he said. "When you speak like that, I can tell the different sounds apart much easier. Although I haven't a clue what half of them mean."

"But that's a really good start," I said. "And once you get to the point where you understand most of it, then overtones and multiple sounds at once will be much easier."

Haugaeldr hummed. He got up and began to pace around, muttering to himself.

"What do you think?" I asked him.

"Shh!" he said, flapping a paw at me.

I stopped, bemused. Toothless snorted with irritation, shaking his head. Dad also shook his head, but much more out of exasperation.

After a solid minute of being lost in his own world, Haugaeldr sat down in front of us again, his expression more serious than I had ever seen before. "I know how to do it."

"Already?" Toothless asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Haugaeldr nodded, eyes glinting with purpose. "We start by categorizing each type of sound. You have to do most of that, Hiccup, since I don't know how human ears perceive us. Each type of sound will have its own family of symbols. Then we go into groupings, pitches, and tonation and how those change meaning. These will alter the symbols in a predictable and recognizable way. Then, once we've laid the groundwork for deciphering sounds and meaning, we translate the words. That is how we describe spoken Dragonese."

Toothless gaped, but I couldn't stop smiling.

"Haugaeldr," I said, "I think you're the perfect dragon for the job."

o.O.o

Shadows.

They engulfed me in a thick sludge, sticking and pulling and tearing at my flesh. I opened my mouth to scream, but I was sinking into it and it was compressing my chest and I couldn't breathe. It hurt, deep in my heart, piercing through my body. I reached for the light of my magic and it dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind a cold shell. I wrenched a hand free and reached out, out, trying to grasp at the formless energy as it dissipated into the emptiness.

A human figure emerged from the darkness that consumed me. A sword glinted in his hand.

"D-Dad," I choked, writhing against the net, my wings and tailfins crushed against my side.

"I will kill you," he said, but not in his voice. I stared at him from the cage as he held the sword over Toothless' neck, digging it into his soft flesh, forcing spasms through his limbs as he gave a high-pitched keen of helpless pain.

"Let him go!" I cried, but my voice was faint. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe.

Not real. It's not real.

"Or maybe you will," he said. Toothless curled against the bars of his cage, sobbing in the aftermath of what I'd said then, my words striking deeper and truer than any sword, and I lied there, helpless and stupid and worthless.

I tried to reach out to him, tried to apologize with all the guilt in my heart on my lips, but I couldn't breathe and the shadows were still here, still here, they just—wouldn't—go—away!—and they never would,and the despair crushed my chest and crumpled the empty shell of my magic, and there he was, holding that sword over me, screaming that he would kill me, Drago and Dad and myself, and I was helpless there, I was going to die, I couldn't breathe and no, no, this was wrong, this was wrong, it couldn't be real, but the sword flew down and it. STRUCK. Tearing ripping rending burning—

"Hiccup!"

My eyes snapped open and I sucked in a huge, rattling breath. My hair and clothes stuck to me, my entire body dripping in a clammy, cold sweat, and I couldn't stop shaking. Each breath felt like it left me before it could get into my lungs, and I was forced to suck in air faster and faster. Spots filled my vision. An enormous weight compressed my chest, making each inhalation labored and weak.

"Hiccup, look at me. Look."

I blinked my eyes open, having not even realized I'd closed them again. Toothless was there, always there, and he curled closer and rested his head on my chest. I reached up and hugged him close, as if the only thing keeping my soul and my heart in my body was him.

"It is fine," he crooned, nuzzling deeper into our embrace. I could feel his heartbeat, thump thump thump, slow and steady against my hummingbird-panic flutter. "It is fine. It is fine."

I closed my eyes again and focused on that slow thump thump thump. I counted my breaths to each one, drawing in deep, ragged bouts of air and letting them go.

I don't know how long it took. Eventually, I realized that the squeeze of my chest had loosened and that my limbs had gone limp. Now my whole body ached with deep exhaustion.

"Thank you, Toothless," I croaked, although I didn't let go. He purred, vibrating deep into my chest, as if he could help calm the racing heave of my heart. Just to be sure, I reached towards my magic. The sheer relief of finding the warm magic still there doubled down on my fatigue, because it was still there and I was still safe and we were still home.

It was just another nightmare.

"Do you want to talk?" Toothless murmured some time later, when the stars and moon had glided across the horizon but neither of us had slept.

"The same as always," I said. "Dad...the sword, being captured...almost dying all those times...me almost…" I choked on the thought, unable to even say it out loud. I had wanted it back then, when we were trapped in the shadow-nest, truly meant those lethal words as I spoke them, and I had always thought of it since.

Toothless did, too. He didn't need to tell me.

"You're here," he said. "I'm here. And I always will be. We survived—you survived. We're home, and we're safe here."

I knew that—I knew that, and frustration and anger and sorrow fought within me that something inside me was still so broken that I couldn't feel that way. We were home. I could be near my father without flinching away in fear, without always checking his hand for a sword he meant to use on me. I didn't have to constantly look over my shoulder. I could walk through Berk without needing Toothless there, no longer ready to leap onto his shoulders at a moment's notice. And yet…

"I feel like a horrible person," I said. "Today was great! I was happy—I really was! But this keeps happening, and I keep holding this over my head...over everyone's heads. I can't move forward, even all these years later."

"You're not horrible, and you're not holding it over anyone," Toothless crooned. "You were hurt. It was real. And that changed you." He nosed a little closer. "It would change anyone. And you have moved forward. I'm so proud of you for all that you've risen over." This brought a small smile to my lips, and he purred. "See?" Then he sobered. "But moving on doesn't mean leaving behind. Some things shouldn't be. Some things become part of us as we grow and change."

I sighed. "Sometimes I wish that I didn't have to change. That the gods did to me what they did to Sphere. Just...erased the sorrow away."

"I think that's wrong," Toothless said. "You are who you are because of it. When you fall down, you always find your feet. You always keep going. No matter how much it hurts or how scared you are. You have been hurt, but you find meaning in it and change. That is one thing that I admire about you so much."

His words made my throat choke up so much that all I could squeeze out was a shaky, "Toothless..." I flung myself around him, hugging him close and sighing as the tension clutching my heart faded. "I can't tell you how much that means to me. Thank you."

He returned my embrace as best as he could without actually crushing me. Then he pulled back to meet my eye.

A spark, and our link flared to life.

The fresh memory came as a shock even to him—that my brain could conjure up such a perfect horror. That even now, all these years later, these nightmares happened so often. That every now and then, the cold shadowy emptiness descended, no matter how happy I knew I should be, and sucked the color out of the world around me. But he countered it with his love and reassurance, with memories of new Berk, of having a home, of Dad and him and me and Haugaeldr as a family, of all the progress we had made together. He pushed the profound confidence that nothing, nothing, nothing in me was broken, and he hated that I believed that and wanted to tear it from me so I would never think it again, because everything was real, but the healing was real, too! And, after all, the healing didn't just stop, so why should I feel guilty and remorse for something I was still working on as best as I could?

That thought struck me. I felt tears prickle at my eyes and rubbed at them with a small smile. "I guess I've never thought of it that way," I said around a lump in my throat.

"Of course you didn't, you fledgling," he teased softly. "You never give yourself the benefit of the doubt. But that's why I'm here." He rested his head on my chest again and met my eyes. Our link brimmed with sorrow and love both.

"And I'll always be here, no matter how long it takes. And forever after as well."

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

nameless

A gentle nudge pushed me out of my sleep. I jolted awake, pressing my wings down over the swimlings and letting out a rapid array of sight-sounds.

The shape of my species bounced back: ears and frills, four-legged, two wings, a fin that ran down the spine from neck to tailtip, and tailfins that fanned at the base, tapered along the length of the tail, and fanned out again at the tailtip. Their scent was of female, older, sea-stones, shrubs. When I squinted to see her better, her face swam into view, her frills stretched out in a calm posture and flat snub-nose twitching.

"I'm here to take over responsibility," she said in a formal tone. By her scent and voice, I recognized her as Fought the Leader.

"Oh!" I yelped. "T-thank you!" I disentangled myself from the swimlings, careful not to disturb their slumber. I kept my head, ears, and tail low as I did, all too aware of how long I was making her wait. When I was finally freed, I slunk back and away.

To my astonishment, Fought the Leader bobbed her head at me. "Thank you. Anything new?"

"I taught them about the first ones," I whispered. My belly pressed into the cold stone below. The sting on my side still burned. "A-and sight-sounds."

Fought the Leader settled down over the swimlings, nestling them close to her and humming. "That's good. They need to learn soon. I'll teach them some swimming and breath-holding in the pool down this tunnel."

I stammered like a fool. We were in the crystal-light; there was no mistaking who I was, and she was being so nice to me. "R-right," I finally said. Casting my eyes downwards, I added, "I think they'll like that."

She looked over at me, the stark green of her eyes a blur against her dark, mottled gray scales. The reflective, deep blue scales on her neck flashed cyan in the rosy glow. "I haven't seen you on the surface in moons. You seem to like it down here."

I flicked my eyes towards hers and back down again. "Yes."

"Is it because dragons can't see you in the dark?"

"I-I like the swimlings," I lied—badly. When Fought the Leader said nothing, pressuring the truth out of me, I relented, "And...that…"

"You'll get your name someday," she said, her voice just as blunt as ever. "But not by hiding in the Under until Killed the Sea Serpent takes pity on you. Which she won't. You need to do other things, too. Have you tried sporing?"

In the Above, where the underground tunnels and rivers opened up to the surface, the Shell was separated into several different vertical levels. Because the Above was littered with giant crystal pillars, mountains, buttes, and plateaus, that meant that the spaces between them sunk very deep. For example, there was a level that opened directly from the Under, which was almost always covered in the dense shadows of the forests and structures around it. As a dragon ascended towards the sky, many levels made themselves available, whether they be stony formations, outreaching cliffs, or crystals. From all the way Above, this made the Shell's surface look like it was a crashing wave of greenery, crystals, and mountain formations, which each swelled and plummeted at random intervals.

The mushrooms of the Shell, which glowed just like the crystals, huddled in any shaded space they could. This meant the bottom-most level was covered with them, and many of the levels above it as well. They were less common near the sky, where the sun pierced through the shadows and the canopies, and Under, which was almost entirely underwater.

I hated the mushrooms. As a new flightling, their sting-smell had given me piercing headaches and sent burning, shooting pain from my heart and down my limbs. I had made every effort to avoid them since. A few seasons had come and gone since I'd even gone near a mushroom, besides the odd one here and there in the caverns.

Sporing was one of the responsibilities that dragons could take up on any given day. It involved tending to the mushrooms of the Shell, rooting out dying patches and seeding them with healthy, new growth. Sporers also spent some time ripping up mushroom patches that strayed too close to the sky levels, so that they would not take over all of the foliage.

Even the thought of it made me wrinkle my nose. "It hurts to breathe near the mushrooms."

"Odd." She tilted her head, studying me. "Well, you are so very different. Regardless, you could still at least try sporing. Or hunting. But a nearly blind dragon would make a truly terrible scout. You couldn't even patrol the outer rim of the Shell. Hm…"

She thought to herself as I winced at the casual insult. Yes, the world was a chaos of blurred colors to me—but my sight-sounds and nose more than made up for it. I hesitated, my mouth dry, and then said shakily, "I can still smell...and use sight-sounds."

"Good!" Fought the Leader praised me. I gawked at the smile in her voice. "There is merit standing up for yourself, you know."

Of course she would say that. The aches of old fights—although they were not true fights, since I would surely be killed if I tried to defend myself—told me otherwise. I still nodded to be polite.

She leaned forward, hesitated when I jolted with fear-scent, and then took a look at the sting on my side. She gave it a small lick and retreated.

Oh, how my heart swelled! I wanted to throw myself at her, curling up against her side like all the others got to do. Just before I did just that, I forced myself to a stop. I couldn't. I was nameless, and Fought the Leader had drawn away. I quivered there, blinking rapidly with joy and sorrow both.

"Try going Above," she said. She laid her head down over the swimlings.

I bowed my head in acknowledgment. "Thank you," I whispered. Then, before anything bad could happen, I spun and padded away.

o.O.o

Like the levels of the Above, the rivers and caverns of the Under created an entire network of heights that a dragon could travel through. The deeper one went, the darker and safer it was. Because the ocean fed into the Shell, however, it was possible to swim upwards in some places. These tunnels were the most difficult to travel through, since they were filled with powerful currents and stinging brine. I was one of the very few dragons who used them regularly, mostly to avoid surfacing on the lower levels of the Shell, which sank deep, deep below the ocean's surface. If I used an easier river to get to the Above, I would emerge surrounded by mushrooms, which I hated.

I had selected a crystal cave to emerge in. Saltwater bubbled into it from an outside cavern, forming a lake that then plunged as a waterfall into another lake far below. The lake also had a cave in its center that swept into the Under. This was the pathway I took. It was a difficult trip up. Most dragons only used it to go Under.

I emerged from the tunnel into the lake, used my sight-sounds to find a ledge, and popped my head up into the air. All at once, the scent of dragons, green plants, the ocean breeze, and—ugh—mushrooms struck me. The sheer, diffuse bright of the sun jabbed at my eyes. I squinted and curled my lip, already missing the Under.

"Woah!" a dragon yelped.

I startled as well, spinning towards him with my sight-sounds. He was a younger male of my species and his scent was very familiar; I had helped raise him as a swimling. He didn't have a name yet, so he was friendly towards me whenever we came across each other.

That would end soon, though. It always did.

The current towards the waterfall was starting to drag me out, so I clutched the ledge with my claws and pulled myself up. "Sorry!"

"Did you just swim up the underground waterfall?" he gasped. When I nodded and began to groom the sea-salt off my scales, he let out a disbelieving noise. "You're one of the only dragons I know who does that. I'm glad you taught me swimming!"

I couldn't help it—a small grin settled on my lips. "I do spend most of my time Under," I said softly.

"Is that why your scales are white?" he asked with the rude innocence of a flightling. Nearly adult-sized, but still very young.

"No," I said, keeping my voice empty of emotion. "I have always been like this."

He padded over and sat down next to me. It was about as close as my dragons ever came to me. I yearned to lean in so that our sides brushed or maybe offer him a lick on the forehead. I kept my wings clamped to my side and shifted my tail away.

"Do you have responsibility up here?" he asked. "I just got done with mine. I was sporing. Then I got covered in the stuff, so I went to the sunny pool to clean, but Hunted a Whale made me leave so he could hunt. So I ended up in this cold crystal cave. And the water in here is salty, too."

"Mhm," I said, still cleaning the stinging salt off my scales. In the Under, there was a mixture of freshwater and saltwater. I generally tried to stay in the freshwater, which was much less corrosive and didn't need to be cleaned off. But since this lake was fed by the ocean, I'd had to bear the salt.

It was also why this male was the only dragon here—freshwater was harder to come by Above, so most unnamed dragons got shooed away by named dragons.

"I almost fought him, too," the male went on, unperturbed by my non-answer. "But he's so much bigger, and there were other named dragons there, too. One day, I'll say, 'No, you go swim in the salt-water!'"

"And then you'll get a brand-new scar," I warned him in the same voice I used on naughty swimlings. I directed a glare at him, which wasn't hard because I was still squinting from the sunlight.

"Or maybe I'll get a name!" he said.

I couldn't hold up my stern look when he said something like that. With a soft giggle, I asked, "Wanted the Fresh Water?"

He lowered his head in embarrassment. "Yeah...I do want something better." He perked up. "Hey! Do you want to go hunting?"

I stopped grooming, surprised by the sudden shift in subject. "In the Under?"

"No!" he said. He craned his neck to the sky, catching the sunlight on the sunset-luminescent scales on his neck, and moaned longingly, "Like them!"

I couldn't see who he was pointing at, but still cringed under the vastness of the sky. It was so, so big, with nothing for my sight-sounds to bounce off of. Even worse, it was blue, just like the ocean. I had only gone out flying a few times, but it had been terrifying. Everything swam together in a blur, and it was all I could do to fly upright.

"We don't have an escort," I said weakly. Nameless dragons were not allowed to fly above the Shell by themselves, for fear they could not yet defend themselves. It was one of many restrictions that made living Under so much easier.

"I'll find one! Come on!"

And with that, he opened his lofty gray-blue wings and tailfins and sprung into the air.

I crouched on the ground, my wings twitching. He'd invited me to come with him. He'd been so nice and friendly...but if I grew attached now, it would hurt even more when he got his name. With drooping ears and wings, I lied down.

The ground vibrated with a huge thump. "Come on!" he cried, nipping me at my scruff and hauling me to my feet.

I squawked in mortification. Nameless as I was, Iwasn't a swimling! "Hey!"

He let go and batted at the air in front of my nose. "Catch me!" he cried, and then tore away, dissolving into the vast chromas of the Shell.

I knew I shouldn't. I knew it would hurt all the more later.

But it had been so long since I'd been friendly with another dragon…

I opened my wings and jumped, flapping clumsily against the thin air. Using scent and sight-sounds, I had no difficulty finding him. He flew up ahead of me, darting between great pillars of crystal and stone and enormous trees. Emerald hanging vines made flying more difficult, diffusing my sight-sounds and forcing me to depend almost entirely on scent when the leaves grew too dense.

Up ahead, he let out an excited squeal and doubled his speed, trying to lose me. My heart sang with joy, and though I tried to stifle it, it was a song that could not be hidden. I slowed for a half-second, then pushed my wings down in a powerful burst of speed.

The Above was full of lush foliage, with all their smells: trees, flowers, grass, moss, shrubs, vines, bushes, fertile earth, and, of course, sharp-smelling mushrooms. But even with all the distractions, I had spent my whole life learning to find my place. I caught up with him and, with a small grin, nipped at one of his tailfins. He laughed, twirling in place.

"How about this?" he shouted. His wings snapped in and he dove towards a sheet of hanging vines. Without hesitation, I increased the frequency of my sight sounds and raced after him.

Just as we passed under the vines, he let out a blaze of fire up towards them.

I had only a moment to think before all the vines came tumbling down on top of me. With an indignant cry, I slowed into a careful hover, ripping at the clinging plants even as they threatened to tangle in my wings and tailfins. Changing positions only made it worse, though. The vines were sticky and cloaked my every scale in a thick, sweet musk. Their soft leaves and little white flowers clung to me from all the sap. With each flap of my wings, the vines shifted and wrapped tighter and tighter. Within moments, they would clamp my tailfins shut and I would plummet.

Disappointment swept through me. Why hadn't I simply tried to throw them off? We had only just started playing, and already I had done something to bring it to an end.

I reluctantly landed onto a mid-level cliff covered in grass and little bright flowers, sneezing and twitching my sides. After a firm, full-body shake to get the easy ones off, I rolled around in the soft wildgrass. That just made it worse; the blades stuck onto the sap. My scales were much more green than moon-white now. With a resigned sigh, I sat up and got to work ripping the plants off of me.

A thump announced the male's return. He pounced on me, nipping at my ear and then darting away. "I got you!" he crowed.

"You did," I said with a soft grin. He cackled.

A stupid, impulsive thought came to me. Before I could think, I swung a vine in my mouth and flung it. It smacked into him and wrapped around his neck and shoulders.

He abruptly stopped laughing. Fear raced from my heart through my limbs. I sunk into the thick, tall grass. The blades whistled against each other like softly hissing dragons.

Stupid. Stupid. I shouldn't have done that. He was friendly, but I was still nameless, and worse, he was old enough now to know that I was cursed—

"I guess I deserved that!" he chuckled. "Here, let me help you."

I held stone-still, belly on the ground, as he stepped over and began chewing through the vines. Almost immediately, he gagged at the sticky-sweet taste. It was enough to draw me back into comfort. I inched myself upwards, heart still pounding in my chest.

"I-it's the least you can do," I tried at a joke. Badly.

A shifting of the air caught my attention; a whistle of air racing over wings. I turned towards it, sight-sounding, just as another dragon pounded into the cliff in front of us. The grass trembled and the ground vibrated with his enormous weight.

He wasn't a dragon of our species. I didn't know him at all. He was huge, towering above in a great red, pointed blur. I crouched low, arching my spine. The male I'd played with shrunk against my side like a frightened swimling. Without thinking, I put a wing up over him.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, fighting to raise my voice to a normal volume.

The enormous dragon sniffed us and grunted. "This is our territory. This is where we hunt. Leave."

His words struck me: first with shock, and then with frantic anger at myself for my own stupidity. Every flock of dragons in the Shell had their own territory within the Shell, though their borders were usually not so jealously guarded. After all, many territories needed to be passed over to go to common areas. But I hadn't even considered other territories! I had spent so long Under, where our species had ample territory, that I had forgotten about the other flocks.

"I-I-we're sorry," I stammered, crouching low, forcing the nameless male down with me.

The nameless male tensed and strained his legs, lifting himself higher. "But we weren't going to that lake! We were just stopping here to get the vines off!" he protested.

I hadn't even known there was a fishing-lake nearby. The bigger ones were valuable, so it didn't surprise me that this dragon's kind had taken one over. "We're very sorry!" I rushed. "We'll go once we get these off of me." I shook my wings to emphasize that they were coated in sap and vines and leaves and flowers. Oh, first ones, why did this have to happen now?

"No," he growled. The scent of smoke wafted over me with his rancid breath, sending my heart thundering. "I recognise you. Leave now!"

"I can't fly," I said in a hush, sprawling on the ground as submissively as I could. "Please, let me get these off and we'll be gone."

"It'll only take a little while!" the male said, still crouching but holding his head up.

The interloper's voice dripped with disgust. "I said no! I know of you. You're that nameless white dragon. And I suppose that makes you nameless, too, if you're bothering to spend time with her." He leaned in so close that even I could see the fire-orange of his eyes. "You're the cursed one."

"N-No," I gasped, staring into the joyful malice shining in his eyes. Even a dragon of a different species had heard of me? I'd never done anything!

But then again, I was an old nameless for a reason.

"I am the leader of my flock, Defeated the Outsiders," he snarled. "And I will do whatever is necessary to protect my own, especially from something like you. I ought to consider you an Outsider and treat you like one."

I skittered backwards, my heart pounding, tripping and tangling my paws in the vines. "We're leaving!" I yelped. "I promise, we're leaving! Come on!" I told the male. For emphasis, I nipped at his tail with my teeth sheathed and tugged him towards me.

"But—" the male began.

My terror made me reckless. "Now!" I growled. I stumbled away without waiting for an answer, and he reluctantly followed.

A shadow passed over me. Then sharp pain in my rump. I squealed and hopped away while Defended the Outsiders and several onlooking dragons laughed. He'd taken the opportunity to bite at me, just to drive his point further, even though I'd done what he wanted.

"Hey!" the male hissed, springing around and baring his teeth and gums. "We're doing what you said! Leave us alone!"

And then—then—the stupid, hothead, barely-above-a-fledgling—!

He gathered his fire and sent his flame above Defeated the Outsiders.

The damning explosion echoed and echoed and echoed...

He had fought back.

...the fireball was still reverberating...

He, a nameless, against a leader.

….dragons were gathering, alarmed by the sound...

And he had used his fire.

Dread froze me into ice, rooting me to the ground, incapable of moving. Several onlooking dragons gasped in a mixture of horror and fury. Defeated the Outsiders never even flinched, staring in outraged silence.

The male was nearly adult-sized, but still very young, after all. He knew better, but not really. He had never been punished for stepping out of his place, not like me.

Nameless dragons can never, never, never fight back.

Especially against the leader of a species, the strongest of us all.

Oh, first ones...!

"Please wait!" I shrieked, cowering with my entire body sprawled on the ground.

Defeated the Outsiders lunged for the male. He snapped at him with enormous jaws and swiped his savage wing-talons. The male backpedaled away and let out a cry as something struck true. Then the dragon rose up onto his two hind legs, spread his wings wide, and drew in his breath.

But he didn't turn towards the male. He swung his neck to me.

"Maybe you hatched here, but you are a curse!" he roared, and let loose his flames.

First confusion, then despair, then helpless anger—I remember those warring in my heart in that precious heartbeat before it hit. The realization, as the fire grasped at the air towards me, that the male had only given Defeated the Outsiders the excuse he wanted. A reason to attack me and pretend it was provoked.

Intense heat washed over me, consuming me in maleficent agony. The vines and sap caught fire, little white-hot islands peppered all across my wings and scales. I spasmed on the ground, screaming and praying for help I knew wouldn't come. Somewhere, far away, I heard the male shrieking as well.

Everything in the world came to a sheer pinpoint of the roiling thunder eating its way across my body.

It burned, it burned, it burned and I hadn't done anything wrong!

But I had—I had been friendly with the male, I had played chase with him, I had trapped myself, I had let him speak up against a leader of another species—and now—now—!

I cried out in a different kind of pain now.

The seconds stretched on.

And then...

Finally, finally, it was over.

I didn't wait. The moment the torrent dissipated—Defeated the Outsiders had merely paused for breath—I turned and sprang into the air, flying as fast as I could back to the crystal cave. More flames licked at my back, but I tucked my wings and dove to avoid them.

Each movement sent newfound pain through my scales, my wings, my tailfins. Dragon scales could only handle so much fire, and that dragon had intentionally pushed past that point. I wheezed uncontrollably, barely able to sight-sound. Through memory alone, I clumsily sprinted back to where we'd came.

I was vaguely aware of wingbeats following me, and maybe even the male calling out.

I reached the crystal cave, tucked my wings in, and dove. The sudden cold and salt came as a second wave of fire. I clenched my eyes shut and bore through it, clawing my way through the water towards the tunnel below. The currents took me up and pushed me Under, and I swam and swam and swam until the blessed dark and cold enveloped me.

I made my way to my own private nest, so deep and dark and cold nobody ever came, and hauled myself up onto the measly bed of moss and leaves I had collected there. I curled up among them, whimpering from the tugging, blistering heat still radiating off of my scales.

It smelled cold and lifeless and lonely here. The only sounds were the trickling of the water and the roaring of my heart in my ears. Exhausted, I slumped onto the cool stone.

Only then, when I knew I was safe and alone, did I draw in a ragged breath and begin to weep.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Hiccup

"Wake up! It's time to work!"

Toothless and I groaned. Haugaeldr didn't care.

"Come on, you two! The sun will rise in approximately thirty-two minutes. I've already allowed you to sleep in enough!"

"Sleeping in is fine every now and then," Toothless moaned. I rolled over, grabbed my pillow, and put it over my head.

A pair of talons grabbed it, wrestled it out of my grasp, and then set it carefully on my bedrest. "You have slept the required eight hours that humans need, by my turning of our hourglass. And considering a dragon's periodic sleeping patterns, you should feel far more rested, Toothless." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Unless you didn't sleep when you were supposed to."

That was a conversation I didn't want. "Nope, we totally slept the whole time," I said, easing myself up and reaching for my prosthetic, which rested on my bedside table. Toothless, who had been lying beside me, arched his back and stretched his legs out.

Haugaeldr broke out into a bright grin. "Excellent! I'm eager to begin our task. I've planned our schedule for the rest of the day. First, wake up before sunrise. At sunrise, breakfast for thirty minutes. Afterwards, going over our day's plan for thirty minutes. Next, working on—"

"Woah, woah, woah," I interrupted, holding my hands up. I glanced at Toothless, who looked horrified to have his day so micromanaged, and had to struggle not to laugh. "You do realize we have other things to do, right?"

Haugaeldr thumped his tail irritably. "You can socialize on our built-in break day!"

"Oh? And when is that?" Toothless said.

"Once a month!" he groaned, as if it were obvious.

"Okay," I said, fighting down a smile. "Haugaeldr, I really appreciate your very extreme...passion with this. But our other tasks can't just wait."

"Why not?" he asked. "The elders will take on any Kingly duties you ask of them."

"Well, I still have a job at the smithy, for one," I said. "Which is where I build things like the sandbox and writing tools you love so much." When his eyes widened, I finally did smile. "And besides that, there are plenty of things we do. Managing other tribe's dragons with Terror mail, helping Astrid and the others teach humans how to fly with dragons, keeping the fires down, fishing and hunting for winter…"

"And, yes, socializing," Toothless said, overtone chastising. "That is important, too. Hiccup and I would like to see the King and our nestmates sometimes. Don't you miss Stormfly and Hookfang?"

Haugaeldr drooped. "I must admit I do," he said. His eyes widened and he stiffened. "Oh! I just realized, I was so excited about our task yesterday, I never even said hello!"

"Haugaeldr," I scolded. "How would you feel if you were gone away for so long and they didn't welcome you home?"

He stood very, very still, tailtip twitching. His wide eyes fixated on nothing. Then he burst out, "I've made a mistake!" and scampered out of the room, down the stairs, and knocked the door right off its hinges with a huge BANG!

I'd barely stood up from my bed when the sound of rapid wingbeats rose and fell just outside.

Toothless yawned, stretched again, plodded around in a circle, and eased himself back down. "Well, that fixes that problem."

"Toothless! It's way too early for him to go waking people up!"

"Well, since he won't learn that from us," Toothless grumbled, "then maybe someone else can drive it through his thick skull. I, for one, plan on getting the rest of my sleep."

I sighed, sitting back on the bed and setting to dislocating my prosthetic. "You know," I clucked, "I remember when you were happy to spend a whole day being woken up by him."

"That was when he was small. And cuddly. And actually went back to sleep when we told him to."

I shrugged, unable to argue against that. "He's just in his...always-awake stage."

"That doesn't exist and you know it!"

The door burst open.

"Hiccup! Toothless!" Dad exclaimed. He sighed with relief at seeing us both there. "What was that sound?"

"Haugaeldr," I sighed. "He woke us up early. Then remembered he had to say 'hi' to Stormfly and Hookfang."

Dad was already leaning over the banister, taking in the damage. He sighed, hands on his hips, and shook his head. "Beard of Thor...that's the fifth door this year he's broken." He rolled his shoulders and glanced out the window. "Well, best we start the day early then, if we're all awake. Come on, boys."

With that, he bundled downstairs to fix breakfast. And the door.

Toothless cast a longing look at our comfy bed with its comfy pillows and comfy blankets. I sighed myself, getting back to tying on my prosthetic.

"Oh! Boys!" Dad called from downstairs.

"Yeah?" I shouted.

"I forgot to tell you!" There was some banging as he forced the door closed, keeping some semblance of warmth indoors. "Trader Johann's Terror came in the dragonery last night. He'll be here by morning."

"Um, okay?" I said, standing up and testing my weight on my prosthetic.

Dad laughed. "I think you'll like his visit this time!" he called. "He said he's heard news of Night Furies!"

o.O.o

Toothless

Shadow-Blenders. News of Shadow-Blenders.

I paced the docks like a dragon-mother watching her hatchlings fly for the first time. The sun was barely risen, a dusky orange disc precariously balanced precariously on the ocean's surface, providing just enough light to see a tiny speck on the horizon: the floating-tree.

"Do you want to fly to him?" Hiccup asked, standing a step behind me so he wouldn't get knocked over by my coming and going. "I still can't see his ship. He's probably an hour or so out, and then he needs to dock and settle in."

The King cleared his throat. He stood next to Hiccup, looking bemused. With his skin taking on a pink hue, Hiccup translated into Norse for him.

"Trader Johann is probably hoping to rest a little," the King said. "The news isn't going anywhere." He slapped his paw on my shoulder, a human gesture of...support, or something. "Come on! Let's put all that anxious energy to good use."

"I…" I began, never taking my eyes off of the floating-tree. Drooping, I said, "Alright. That makes sense."

Hiccup hopped up onto my back, purring. "Look at it this way," he said, "since we're up so early, we can finish our morning faster, and have more time to talk to him."

Blinking, I stood up straighter. Now that was a good point.

"We will see you later, King! Fair winds!" I cried. I leapt into the air, snatching the wind beneath my wings, and flung us straight back up towards Berk.

"Woah!" Hiccup yelped. He laughed and said some sort of teasing comment, but I scarcely heard him.

The last I had seen my kind, my mother lay dying...my older brother, screaming, blaming me, abandoning me...father, I had never been able to say goodbye. We had been the only nest in our little alcove, in those mountains to the south. Mother and father had never mentioned others like us.

A memory sprung forthーa conversation between Hiccup and me, years ago now.

Why not look for your family?

And, hypocrite as I was, I had buried myself in the depths of my sorrows, even as I nudged Hiccup away from his own.

We had scarcely spoken of it since then. Hiccup was kind and patient enough not to press.

But, now…

Did I dare let myself hope?

Even with my mind reeling, I flung us through our morning tasks. Checking the hatchery. Conversing with patrollers. Learning any tidbits of news from the dragonery, where dozens of Little-Biters and other wanderlust-filled dragons perched and waited to send out messages. Taking stock from the humans who cared for the sheep, the humans who somehow made edible plants happen where they wanted, the humans in charge of storing food. All this we did with a speed we had never done before. The errands flew straight over my head, such that if Hiccup would have asked me what happened during the morning, I would have been unable to give an answer.

News of Shadow-Blenders.

o.O.o

By the time the human was well-restedーand after taking his time doing soーnearly half of Berk had flocked to his floating-tree like seagulls spotting a meal. We blustered like a bunch of hatchlings seeing a butterfly for the first time, gathering with wide eyes and excitement in a huge crowd. Some dragons swooped overhead, curious to see such a gathering. The sun had reached mid-morning already, casting its warmth onto all of the docks with crisp clarity.

Hiccup, the King, and I stood at the front of the crowd, near where the floating-tree sat in the water. There were platforms made of wood that lead up to the floating-tree, but we weren't allowed on it just yet. The human 'Johann' bumbled about his floating-tree, constantly 'reassuring' us that he needed just a "few" more moments.

"That's the third time he's said that!" I complained, my tail flicking with irritation. "How much longer does he need?"

Hiccup pressed his side against mine. He began to speakーand was cut off by the sudden thump of dragons landing just beside us.

"Hi, Kings!" Stormfly crowed. At her side, Hookfang bobbed his head in greeting.

"There you are!" Haugaeldr said, landing delicately next to his friends. He narrowed his eyes accusingly. "We went looking for you all morning!"

"Hey, Hiccup!" Snotlout shouted from atop Hookfang. "Would you mind not letting him wake us up and drag us all around Berk?" He pointed the human way at Haugaeldr, who scoffed.

Astrid leapt down from Stormfly and landed with a dragon's grace. "I was already getting some early-morning training in," she said. "But it would be nice to have some warning before Stormfly swoops out of nowhere and carries me off."

Hiccup grimaced, lowering his head. "Sorry," he said. "He remembered he forgot to welcome those two home."

Astrid smiled, but Snotlout was less than amused. "Why couldn't it wait until morning?" he grumbled, easing himself down from Hookfang's neck and plopping to his feet on the docks. "I needed to get my beauty rest in after all of that flying yesterday!"

"I assure you, I am almost ready!" the human 'Johann' shouted, again.

"No, he isn't!" I said under my breath. Hiccup snickered.

Astrid looked at me with her eyebrows raised. "Is something wrong?"

The King chuckled, stepping up to our circle and giving me another one of his firm paw-slaps on the shoulder. "We've learned that Trader Johann has heard something of Night Furies," he said. "Toothless has been waiting all morning to hear it."

Astrid's eyes widened. "News of Night Furies?" she said in wonder. She gave me a sympathetic look. "No wonder you're so anxious."

"I'm not anxious," I snorted. "I just want to know!"

Astrid lifted an eyebrow. "I'm assuming that was something sarcastic?" she said to Hiccup.

"More or less," he said with a shrug and a playful grin my way. He perked up. "But that actually reminds meーHaugaeldr is helping out with the Book on Dragonese now! He thinks he can come up with a way that can transcribe it."

Astrid beamed. "That's amazing!" Patting Stormfly, who leaned down to nose her, she asked, "You think it'll be able to help us understand them better?"

"That's what we're hoping," Hiccup said, his eyes flicking to his father.

The King grinned. "And that reminds me," he said. He turned to Astrid. "I'm afraid Haugaeldr won't let Hiccup rest until they get finished. I'd like for you to take over his responsibilities until then."

That was new. I shared a surprised look with Hiccup and Astrid.

"Wait, r-really?" Hiccup spluttered.

"That's wonderful!" Haugaeldr exclaimed. "That means we can use my itinerary!"

Fear shot deep into my core. "Let's reconsider."

Astrid did her best to regain her composure. "IーI'd be happy to, Chief," she said with an excited grin. "I won't let you down."

"Hey! What about me?" Snotlout shouted, waving his paws around for emphasis. "Shouldn't I be the one taking on the Chiefly duties?"

The King turned to him, his expression carefully neutral.

Before he could speak, the human 'Johann' shouted, his voice piercing through the din. "Alright! I am pleased to welcome you all aboard!"

Finally. "Let's go!" I nudged Hiccup, who was looking at his father with a troubled expression. Even Astrid seemed uncomfortable, averting her eyes and shoulders creeping up to her ears.

"Yes, Toothless is right," the King said. "Snotlout, we'll talk later. Come, boys, let's hear this news."

I bustled us off, nipping Hiccup's scruff with sheathed teeth and dragging him forward a few steps until he got moving. The King normally would have chuckled at such a sight, but was silent instead, his expression a mirror of Hiccup's.

I glanced over my shoulder at the others. Haugaeldr was babbling enthusiastically to Stormfly and Hookfang, who were both entranced with his wild imaginings. Astrid had taken up step behind us, biting her lower lip.

Snotlout stood still. He stared after us, his face drawn, his paws clenched at his side. He met my eye, and for a momentーthough I could hardly believe itーa trace of accusation seeped into his eyes. He snapped his head away, turned, and stalked back into the crowd, shoving his way through the throng of advancing humans and dragons. Within moments, he was swallowed in their midst.

o.O.o

The human took us inside his floating-tree, into a cramped room that all of us could barely squeeze into. There was an odd pelt hanging by two ends swinging against one wall, a small table, and a large object that held other objects inside it. He opened it up and pulled out several pieces of rolled parchment.

"Ask him what it is," I whispered to Hiccup.

"What is it?" Hiccup repeated.

"I'm not surprised this has caught your fancy, young master!" the human chortled. He placed the parchments on the table and began spreading them out. The King, Hiccup, Astrid, and I strained to get closer in the cramped quarters.

"A map?!" Hiccup exclaimed, reaching for one.

"Ask him where!"

"And then some!" the human interrupted, his eyes twinkling. He shuffled some more parchment around. "I've got first-hand accounts, hand-written myself, as well as patrol records! Oh, this one in particular comes with such a story! It all started when I met this odd fellow during one of my southern trade routes. He was simply enamored with his pet parrotーquite a remarkable bird, you see, they can even imitate human speechー"

"Hold on," the King said, holding up a paw. "Let's start from the beginning. Where are these from, and what exactly are they all tracking?"

"Why, Night Furies!" the human said, and my heart swelled.

"Where?!" I demanded, shoving my way even closer to the parchments.

The human held up his paws, his eyes widening but chortling nonetheless. "Forgive me, master Toothless," he said. "I'll do my best not to get carried away with my tales. Although they are very engaging…" he muttered. He opened the paper with the map, spreading it out and smoothing its curled edges.

I looked at Hiccup and the King, who squinted down at it, their faces nearly a mirror of each other. Behind them, Astrid squeezed her way closer. My ears drooped when it became very clear from their expressions that none of them had any idea what they were looking at.

"Yes, this is land you Vikings likely have not seen since your great-great-great-something forefathers escaped the mainland," the human 'Johann' said. "Far to the southwest, skirting around the main islands with their beautiful landscapes and volcanoes, and, oh, you should see the sights there, with the glaciers and the emerald fieldsー!"

"Johann," the King interrupted.

"Right, right!" he said easily. "Well, as you know, the peoples down south are always pitting against each other, fighting wars and dethroning kings and setting up empires just to watch them fall. And they call us savages," he said with a solemn shake of his head. "But it makes for quite good trading, when even truth is in short supply! Which led me to this."

He opened another parchment.

"Now, this is my own copy, of course, translated into Norse at your benefit, masters Toothless and Hiccup. But what this states isー"

Hiccup's eyes had danced across it the moment it was laid in front of him. "Sightings of Night Furies," he breathed. "In the mountains to the south…" he turned to me. Our eyes met.

Our link blossomed between us.

Where I came from, I finished his own thought, and between us slipped the foggy, half-remembered images of the great hulking mountains with their snowy caps, forests nestled within the gaps like sleeping hatchlings. Mother, with her soft gray scales and stripes. Lying dead, wounded, amidst a burning plain, murmuring soft consolments with her dying breath. The shadow-man's cloak, which tore at my heart with savage talons, for it resembled her so. Father, of a black so deep he had no real use of Shadow-Blender magic at night. That last approving smile as we had flown out on my first scouting mission. My older brother, a mixture of the two...his angry, accusing, betrayed amber eyes…

I turned away, breaking the connection.

"The woman I traded this from was well-travelled, all the way from the lands far to the east, where dragons also live," the human said. "Although her description of them makes them seem far more mystical and...snake-like. She was enamored with Night Furies, trying to study them to bring them back to the Dragon Lords, so she called them. She said she sighted a flock of at least ten, though the numbers were hard to count."

Hiccup and I shared a breathless look.

"This," the human said, and his voice was suddenly grim, "is a war report." He pulled out another piece of parchment. "It does not describe any Furies, per say, but it does mention a very specific man. Grimmel the Grisly."

The King stiffened.

"You know him?" I asked him immediately. "Who is he? What does he have to do with this?"

The King needed no translations of my urgent questions. "I once met him, decades ago," he told me. "But everything I have heard from and about him has sounded like fantasies and exaggerations."

The sad way he looked at me made my back arch, my spines sticking up. "Who is he?!" I shouted. Hiccup pressed close to me, thrumming with a soft, comforting purr, and I lowered my head apologetically.

"He fancies himself as a Night Fury killer," the King said. "But I never believed it."

The air whooshed out of my lungs. I could believe it. I remembered that day, being hunted like prey, the sharp-claw that had felled Mother, the deathly illness that had swooped upon her, which she had hidden so well that I had not even registered that she was dying, dying in front of me, but she had known, trying so hard to be brave for her fledgling, to comfort meー

"ーin one of the wars," the human 'Johann' was saying. "Apparently, he's still going on about how he got them all."

"When did you get each of these reports?" Hiccup asked, his voice tight as he held on to me. I hadn't even realized he'd pulled me close. "When did your contact see the nest?"

"Some long time ago," the human admitted. "She hadn't seen Night Furies for a few years when I'd spoken to her. The report on Grimmel's work in the wars is far more recent, within the last year. But!" he brightened, holding up a finger. "Fear not! For I have one last piece of news."

He pulled the last piece of parchment. I blinked, because this one, I could understand.

It was a picture.

I craned my neck forward, sniffing at the image, as if I could take in the scent of the dragon depicted. It was very loose, much less detailed and true-to-life than Hiccup's works. The dragon in it was small, like they were far away, and turned toward us, staring out from the paper with an arched back, head low, wings half-opened, tail curled around their body. The human had not cared to place anything more than lines for their eyes, but they didn't need to for me to know their thoughts. Their posture screamed terror and vulnerability.

"Oh," Hiccup said softly, his eyes sympathetic as he studied the image.

"Where and when was this?" the King asked.

"Far to the southwest," the human said. "When, I'm not sure. This one came with quite a story from the locals. They thought it was some sort of spirit or god, come to visit them deep in the night. Apparently it frequented their village for a time, coming from the ocean and disappearing over the horizon when it left. None of them were ever able to get close to it, except for a child who managed to sneak up on it and record this." He tapped the paper. "They said it stopped visiting a few years ago."

"And when did this Grimmel start bragging about killing all the Night Furies?" Astrid spoke up.

The human smiled triumphantly. "He's been known to say it's been well over a decade."

All of it was so much. So uncertain.

"That's...good," said Hiccup. He looked at me. "Although I don't believe it either, Toothless. How can one person wipe out a whole species?"

"If they only live in certain places," I murmured, staring at the parchment. "If they only form very small nests, which means they can't defend each other…"

He lay a reassuring paw on my head. "I don't believe it," he said again, this time with confidence.

"Nor do I," the King said. "Men like these...they're all act. They puff themselves up, but once you strike, you realize how small they are."

"I would advise caution with this particular man," the human said. "He's earned quite a fearsome reputation, even without all this hullabaloo about wiping out a whole race of dragons."

The King nodded. "Thank you for this, Johann," he said. "I might pick your brain on him some more. May we keep these?"

"But of course!" the human cried. "Considering you've been so kind to allow me to dock and dine here in your vibrant home!"

The King lifted an eyebrowーI had a feeling that hadn't been the case when discussing arrangements. "Very well," he said, somewhat bemused. "Once you've finished trading, I'll set you up in Town Hall." He turned to myself, Hiccup, and Astrid. "I'm sure you three finished your morning tasks already. I'll be busy arranging some trading with Johann, but feel free to do as you please."

Astrid straightened. "Right, Chief," she said. She grabbed Hiccup by the arm. "C'mon, let's head outside."

Hiccup yelped as he was dragged away, but still managed to grab the parchments as we left. Astrid guided us all the way off of the floating-tree and into a less-crowded nook on the docks. She fixed us both with an expectant look, paws on her hips. "Well?"

"Well what?" Hiccup asked, rubbing his shoulder with a paw even though it couldn't have possibly hurt that much.

"The Night Furies!" she exclaimed. "I know you must have some stupid idea in that head of yours."

"I want to find them," I blurted, still somewhat in a daze. My eyes widened and ears stuck straight up at my own admission.

Finding them...would mean leaving home.

Hiccup looked at me with much less surprise. "I do, too," he said, his overtone full of longing.

"So," Astrid said, "what are you going to do?"

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

nameless

My wounds were well on their way to healing, my stomach heavy with emptiness, when the stillness broke.

The water rippled and a dragon inhaled. Sight-sounds ghosted against my scales.

"There you are," Fought the Leader said, climbing onto my damp, moldy nest. She sniffed me, her breath tickling against my hide. A shudder went down my spine. "No infection. Good. It's taken us days to find you, you know."

Her words betrayed no irritation or anger, but I still shrunk away. "I—" my voice was too raspy and painful. I swallowed and croaked, "I didn't know anyone was looking."

"Killed the Sea Serpent is furious," she said. When I recoiled in horror, she amended, "Not at you. At the nameless male, yes. At Defeated the Outsiders, even more so. We have to go Above, and then she will bring it to the other leaders as well."

"I don't want to," I whimpered like a pathetic little swimling.

Fought the Leader said nothing. She turned and slipped back into the water.

I lied there, knowing I was delaying the inevitable and only bringing punishment onto myself. But I was so, so tired and hurt and scared. I didn't want to go anywhere near that male or Defeated the Outsiders again. At least in the slimy muck of my nest, nobody would hurt me.

Enough time passed that I began to wonder if it had been a dream. Then the water splashed again. Fought the Leader sight-sounded back over to me.

She dropped something in front of my nose: a fresh-caught fish. "Eat."

I did.

When I was finished and able to ease myself up, she clucked in approval. She dipped back into the water without another word, and this time, I obediently followed, nauseated with fear.

o.O.o

The center of our territory was a fishing-lake nestled in a small canyon of crystals. It was freshwater, fed directly by a vein creeping from the Under, and very deep. Several schools of fish thrived in it, and aquatic plants flowed through its currents. Its shore whittled into crystal, which then gave way to mud, earth, and foliage. Trees with curled trunks surrounded the lake. Their drooping silver-green branches swayed in the wind and brushed gently against the water.

I could hear the clamor of dragons shouting and arguing before we even got to the lake. Fought the Leader and I emerged from the tunnel and surfaced onto the opalescent shore.

Everyone fell into a hush. Keeping my eyes firmly on my paws, I slunk out of the water and crouched next to Fought the Leader.

The leader of our species, Killed the Sea Serpent, parted the crowd. She was the largest dragon of my kind I had ever known, towering over even the tallest females, who tended to be larger than the males. My shoulders barely reached her belly. Her scales were blue-gray, with near-black mottling. The magenta luminescent scales on her neck shone as she lifted her head high.

Barely a heartbeat passed before she snarled, "I've seen enough."

With that, she sprang aloft with a single leap and was gone.

I look that bad? I wondered. I hadn't caught my reflection and had no intentions of trying now. The lingering pain told me enough.

The rest of our flock hurried to follow our leader. The trees swayed wildly with the force of several dragons taking off all at once. I hesitated, reluctant to dive into their throng, until Fought the Leader nudged me. We leapt together, and though all my body ached from injury and misuse, I easily kept pace. If I did not, I would be left behind, just like always. But it wasn't very difficult to know the way; the angry hissing and rapid wingbeats were loud enough to echo against the stones and crystals of the Above.

In my mind's eye, I traced where we were going. My limbs nearly froze with realization. We were returning to the fishing-pool that Defeated the Outsiders had guarded.

After what felt like a few heartbeats, our flock suddenly dove into landings. I followed, sniffing and sight-sounding everywhere. Fought the Leader guided me ahead, parting the crowd, until we came upon Killed the Sea Serpent. On her other side was another dragon—by his scent, the young male. This close, I could see that he was covered in healing burns, too.

He started to pad over towards me, trying to catch my eye. I looked away and stepped closer to Fought the Leader.

Killed the Sea Serpent roared, the sun flashing off of her iridescent neck scales. The rest of our flock echoed her command. I kept my head and tail low, ears and frills pressed flat.

Oh, first ones, why did it have to come to this?

Answering calls came from several different directions, all unique in the shape of their sounds. Several other dragon species had gathered here.

Killed the Sea Serpent's voice thundered for all the Shell to hear: "For the unjust burning of two unnamed dragons of my flock, I challenge you, Defeated the Outsiders!"

A familiar roar shook the very air. "For the attack of a leader by an unnamed dragon, and the trespassing of our territory, I challenge you, Killed the Sea Serpent!"

Killed the Sea Serpent stalked forward onto the flat plain with silken, blue-green grass and little orange flowers. Glowing sunset-colored crystal pillars dotted the field. She was poised and calm, although she was practically vibrating with rage. On the other end, the blood-red dragon stepped out to meet her. Both of them stopped a long distance for each other and waited.

Now the other leaders present would decide: was one in the wrong, or both?

The crowd of dragons fell into a hush.

"It is a fair fight!" someone cried out.

"It is a fair fight!" another leader agreed.

"Yes, a fair fight!" yet another passed their judgement.

Defeated the Outsiders scoffed. "A fair fight?!" he protested. "When I only defended my kind from the intrusion of two nameless, especially that cursed nameless?"

I shrunk into the grass, wishing I could disappear into it. The weight of innumerable eyes fell upon my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, as the onlookers swiveled towards me.

"That is my flock's business!" Killed the Sea Serpent cried, outraged. "You cannot pass that judgement on one of mine and act on it!"

"She is an ill omen!" he returned.

"Superstition!" Killed the Sea Serpent spat.

The words came as a rush of cold over me.

Why was she lying?

Defeated the Outsiders reared up high, spreading his enormous wings. "Superstition? Then why is it that five summers ago, she emerged from the Under, crippled and so very different from every dragon in the Shell?"

I squeezed my blind eyes shut, for he was the leader I agreed with.

"Why is it that on the day she emerged, a great roar shook the very earth, and the sun and moon disappeared?!"

The dragons that remembered that day shook and growled. The pressure of their gazes grew heavier, malevolent.

"Why is it that the calamity ended when she was taken back Under? Why is that she nearly brought the world's ending upon us, and yet you still let her live?!"

I didn't know! I didn't mean to! I wanted to scream. I was only a flightling!

Growling, hissing, and spitting rippled through the air like a torrent of rain disturbing a lake. The male inched closer to me. My flockmates formed a barrier around us, their ears standing on end and their wings lifted. I could taste the anger and tension in the air: a sharp, smoke-tinged zing on my tongue.

"That is enough!" our leader's voice raked through it all like talons through soft flesh. "I don't care what excuse you come up with—you attacked two of my flock! They were obedient and you struck first! That is why we are here!"

Defeated the Outsiders lowered into a battle-ready crouch. "You're a fool!" he said. "She'll be the destruction of us—I was doing us all a favor by putting an end to it!"

"So you admit you attacked to kill?" she said, her voice as scorching as magma.

Defeated the Outsiders paused as if realizing his mistake. Then he squared his shoulders and lifted his head. "Yes," he said proudly. "To defend us all."

My flockmates gasped and snarled. I pressed my belly into the grass, wishing desperately to go Under and swim back to my darkness-engulfed nest, no matter how damp and cold and moldy it was.

Killed the Sea Serpent swung her head around, lifting her head to meet the eyes of the observing leaders. "Is this still a fair fight?" she sneered.

"No!" one dragon said. "The fight is yours!"

"It is still a fair fight!" another disagreed. "One of her nameless attacked a leader!"

"After he attacked them!" returned the previous dragon.

"A nameless cannot fight back!"

"But is he not right that she is cursed?"

"Don't be ridiculous! The first ones would never let a cursed dragon hatch in the Shell!"

"It is superstition!" Killed the Sea Serpent roared.

And so they squabbled. Like a dragon choosing to end another's life—my life—was a topic of debate, something with fair points on both sides.

The weight of the eyes were crushing, choking the air from my lungs, and all I wanted to do was run away. I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. All I had done was try to just be with another dragon, to feel the privilege of companionship, even if only for a moment!

Eventually, they came to a decision.

"It is a fair fight!" the leaders all agreed one after one.

Killed the Sea Serpent and Defeated the Outsiders hissed in disdain, both of them clearly believing the fight belonged to them. They swung towards each other.

Defeated the Outsiders lunged, but he was too slow. Crouched low to the ground, Killed the Sea Serpent opened her wings, thrust into the air, and was gone almost at once. She was one of the few dragons strong enough to launch into a straight, vertical ascent, and the surrounding dragons murmured in admiration. Defeated the Outsiders was forced to a clumsy halt, and with an air-churning growl, leapt after her at an angle.

I took no pleasure in the embarrassment that he must have felt in that moment.

Now they were out of my view; they were so high up that I couldn't see them among the blurs of the clouds and skylight. What I could hear, however, were the furious screeches, the powerful flames, and the gasps of fear and awe of the dragons in the Shell. Every few seconds, the sharp whistle of my species mid-dive pierced the air, followed by the thundering boom of fire and a brief glimmer of magenta light.

Killed the Sea Serpent was wise to take the fight into the open sky. She was faster and nimbler than this enormous, spiny dragon. If she had stayed below, she would have had to focus more on avoiding obstacles and getting close to him. It would have been easy for him to spray his fire everywhere, as he had done to me, setting dragon and foliage alike aflame. His species was the kind that could walk through fire mostly unscathed, and if he had succeeded in that strategy, victory likely would have been his.

It was arrogance that sent him chasing after her into the empty, open blue above, and now retreating back into the shelter of the Shell would open him up to even more of her fury.

And she was furious.

The boom-and-flash of her attacks wouldn't stop. From the reactions around me, I knew she was hitting her mark on every merciless strike. With each successive boom, dread ate gnawed at me like a starving thing.

I hadn't wanted it to come to this.

I'd only wanted to play chase with another dragon.

I counted seven devastating blows. She only had one left. Immediately following the seventh, Defeated the Outsiders let out a furious bellow that grew louder and louder and—

He crashed into the plain like a fireball, kicking up enormous globs of earth. He had set his scales on fire. Several dragons cried out and scattered as errant embers spewed out into the crowd. With a wheezing hiss, he rolled back onto his feet, but oddly. His form seemed to lilt to one side. I squinted and aimed pinpoint sight-sounds at him.

My stomach lurched.

His wing was broken. I could even sight-sound bone fragments jutting out into the open, snapped like dying tree limbs. He would probably be crippled for life.

Killed the Sea Serpent swept into an elegant landing in front of him. She lifted her head high, her vibrant magenta neck-scales dazzling in the sun, and commanded, "Yield!"

Defeated the Outsiders growled. He tried to spit flame, but nothing came out. Panting and shaking, he finally lowered his head. "I yield," he rumbled, his words raw and scathing as if they could wound her where his strength could not.

"Killed the Sea Serpent is the victor!" a leader cried. "Killed the Sea Serpent!"

Everyone took up the chant with vigor, "Killed the Sea Serpent! Killed the Sea Serpent!"

She stood there, head lifted and wings neatly tucked in. Defeated the Outsiders crouched, tail thumping wildly, and growled in barely-contained rage.

"I will have it known," Killed the Sea Serpent shouted into the cheering, silencing everyone. She waited until it was quiet and announced, "I will have it known that if anyone tries to do as he did to my own, then I will not show mercy next time! This is where superstition leads us: attacking to kill innocent dragons!"

There was much less cheering after that.

With a dainty snort, Killed the Sea Serpent turned her back to her foe and padded back to us. All of us crowded her, myself included, butting our heads against her side and licking her wounds. She took it all in stride. All leaders fought on behalf of their flockmates; this was not her first duel, and hopefully would not be her last.

When I cautiously reached forward to groom some scratched scales on her neck, she leaned closer to me and whispered in my ear, "I will speak with you at my nest later tonight."

I stopped with my tongue still out, ears sticking straight up. She had already turned away to speak to someone else.

That was when another dragon roared.

Everyone snapped back around. A newcomer of Defeated the Outsiders' species had stepped onto the plain, her tail whipping and claws gouging into the earth. She roared again, just to make sure that everyone had her attention.

"Defeated the Outsiders!" she shouted. "You have proven weak as a leader. I challenge you!"

I gaped. I even heard some of my flockmates snicker.

He had no other choice. With all the dragons and leaders still collected here, he could only tuck in his broken wing and snarl, "I accept your challenge."

It was a very, very short fight.

By the time it was done and their flock was chanting their new leader's name—Breathed White Fire—another dragon had sidled up to me.

He openly laughed and nudged my side. "Serves him right."

I didn't meet his eye, lowering my head. "I'm so sorry you got caught up in everything."

"Sorry?!" he gasped. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have fought back. You were the one trying to make me leave. It's not fair that he did that, and it's not fair he called you a curse in front of everyone."

I didn't respond, turning my head away, eyes half-lidded.

He prodded my side again. "Please...I am so sorry."

I glanced over into his shining amber eyes and my heart swelled at the real concern there. "I forgive you," I whispered, if only so his mind would be at ease. "But you should stay away from me. For your own good."

He shook his head, ears flattening. "But I don't think you're a curse!"

I only returned to my usual posture that came so naturally: head bowed, wings tucked, mouth drawn, eyes downcast.

He jerked his head back with a gasp, reading my silence correctly.

The thought of him trying to ignore reality, to speak well-meaning lies to me, was too heavy to bear. I jolted away before he could cry out the very same arguments our leader had just used. Being so small, it was easy to slip into the crowd.

I half-slunk, half-ran towards the nearest body of water I could hear and smell. The male called out, but from the distance of his voice, I knew he was far away. I splashed into a lake, sight-sounded until I found a way Under, and dove.

The sound of celebrating dragons followed me for some time.

o.O.o

Killed the Sea Serpent, as today had shown, was one of the most powerful leaders in the Shell. Because of that, she had an incredible nest.

Like most named dragons, it was Above, nestled in an enormous crystal pillar that yearned upwards towards the heavens. There was a cave carved into it, which was positioned nearly as tall as the Shell's outer rim. It provided a great view of the rest of her flock. One could even see, far in the distance, one of the fog-coated outer rims of the Shell. Being made entirely of crystal, the cavern radiated heat in the presence of dragons, and its soft glow was a comforting, dim lavender.

I alighted on the ledge outside the cave and hesitated. Plenty of soft moss and leaves had been placed here. I even spotted a few mushrooms growing on the edges; there had probably been some spores on something brought up here. Lots of pretty stones and crystals had been meticulously placed by someone on the edges. A sky-blue crystal caught my eye, the very same color as my own iridescent neck scales. I craned my neck to admire it.

Decorations meant that Killed the Sea Serpent was mated, which surprised me. I'd never seen her with another dragon before. But these were delicate and meticulously placed; whoever had created this nest had put their whole heart into it.

For a brief moment, I wondered if I should bring some crystals down to my nest, if only to make it just a little more comforting. I batted the thought away; unnamed dragons did not mate, and I had nobody to impress.

"My mate did that."

"Ah!" I yelped, suddenly realizing where I was. I scrambled, flapping my wings in a blur to keep from slipping off of the edge. "I-I'm sorry, I—"

"Come on in before you fall," she said, her voice betraying a little bit of a smile.

I entered, marveling at how comfortably warm it was inside, and lied down on the leaves. It was surprisingly plush; she had spent a lot of time and effort on keeping the nest fresh.

Killed the Sea Serpent leaned down and nosed a stone with an interesting spiral of quartz running through it. "This used to be my mate's nest, before it was mine. He arranged all of this to impress me after he beat me in a race. Only just barely, though."

"It's very impressive," I said, sniffing and sight-sounding. Besides the mushroom-smell, it was the best nest I had ever been in. So soft, so warm, so inviting-all virtues I had never truly known.

"I still miss him terribly," she murmured, almost as if she weren't talking to me. Then she shook her head and straightened up. "But that isn't why I summoned you here." She turned to me, gold eyes piercing against the pale purple-blue. "What happened a few days ago—has any dragon ever done such a thing to you before?"

I cast my eyes downwards and shook my head. "No."

"Has any dragon ever hurt you before?"

I thought of all the spine-stings, nips, shoves, and scorn I had endured from my own flockmates over the seasons. Surely Killed the Sea Serpent knew about it, but she, like many others, had been happy to look the other way. Nameless were bullied often, but since I was an old nameless, a cursed nameless, it seemed they were all comfortable with it now. "Not like that."

She padded around me, scenting and nosing at old and new injuries alike. She growled. I flattened myself into the plush foliage.

"This has gone on long enough," she finally said. "I've been complacent, allowing you to hide Under for such long periods of time. I thought you would find your voice. I should have known it would only get worse."

I said nothing, furrowing my brow. What did she mean? It was not as though I could argue back to named dragons, and besides that, the Under protected me.

She stepped in front of me and lifted her head high. "I forbid you from going Under until you earn your name."

No. No, no, no no no!

Oh, first ones, no!

I yearned to cry out, but any protests I could manage died on my lips. Nameless dragons never fought back. Especially not against a leader.

I clenched my eyes shut until colors sparked against the nothingness there. My limbs began to quiver on their own accord. I couldn't stifle a small sob.

No more Under. No more safety of the darkness. No more cooling waters. No more teaching swimlings, something I had hoped I could earn my name with.

Almost as if she heard my thoughts, Killed the Sea Serpent leaned down and nosed my forehead. Low and soothing, she murmured, "I know you feel safe down there and are very good at taking care of the swimlings. But don't you see? Hiding down there, barely seeing any dragons...every time you come Above becomes something new for storytellers to gossip about. The less you're up here with other dragons, the more they think of you as not part of us. We need to show them that they're wrong, before anyone else gets this ridiculous idea that you're a curse that needs to be...resolved."

I stared ahead, eyes unfocused, and lied, "I understand."

Killed the Sea Serpent sighed again. "A leader protects all her flock," she said. "But I've let my most vulnerable slip away. This is a burden I bear, too."

Then she lied down. Not just a small distance away—right next to me, so that our hides brushed and I could feel her warmth. On purpose. I jolted, looking at her in confused wonder.

Something about that made her give me a deeply pained smile. I was so caught up in the fact that she was close enough that I could see her—actually, truly see her, and not just a smudge of color—that I didn't even think to question it.

"Forgive me, little one," she murmured, wrapping a wing around me. "I have failed you."

The alien sensation of another dragon so close—and not to fight or shove past—ground my despair to a halt. Was this what it was like, to be accepted and wanted? Is this what true safety felt like?

Was this what it would be like if I were not cursed?

I choked on my next words, "It's—it's—it's not—your fault."

She licked my forehead, a sensation I had not felt since I was a swimling in the dark, and I lost all control, dissolving into heaving sobs and curling closer and closer and closer to her, desperate for the wondrous warmth she offered, the rise and fall of her chest, her heart beating against mine, a soft thrum vibrating from her through me, and I wept, I wept, I wept and clung to her, as if the first embrace of a dragon I had ever been given would somehow soothe away the seasons of loneliness that I had so perfectly failed to endure.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Astrid

I practically had to drag Hiccup and Toothless to Town Hall to get some breakfast. They spent the whole time giving each other amazed, frightened, even grieving looks, murmuring to each other in thrumming dragon-tongue punctuated by stiff, anxious growls and snaps from Toothless, and comforting purrs from Hiccup. Stormfly found us and squawked scoldingly at me. She still seemed to think I was 'her' fledgling human, no matter how many people and dragons reassured her that I was the older one. Haugaeldr was with her along with Hookfang.

Snotlout, however, wasn't with his companion.

This morning had been...awkward. Of course, we all assumed Snotlout would not be the heirーbut the Chief had never outright gone and said it like he'd done this morning. Giving me Chiefly duties was an honor, but at the unwilling stepping-down of Snotlout…

It didn't seem right. I didn't like any of this awkward side-stepping around the matter, but who was I to tell the Chief how and when to make his final decision?

Part of me fluttered with excitement that it was me he chose, of all people. The girl who had betrayed him when Hiccup was a dragon, who had earned months-long punishment, who had challenged him, Stoick the Vast, to a fight...who had done everything I ever could to make it right, to bring Hiccup back to us.

I had done what I could to step up, to fix my wrongs, to bebetter. I had done it because it was right. I had done it because all of Berk, and especially Hiccup and Toothless and the Chief, needed it or everything would all fall apart. And with those first shaky, terrifying steps back into leadership, the shadow of my past failures haunting me with doubts, I had become more and more confident in myself and my own ability to lead.

It had been the most natural thing, something that left me...fulfilled. Happy. Excited for the next day. I worked myself to my limits and pushed others to do the same and, together, we thrived. It was never about ambition, even as I imagined a bright future in my most private, self-centered moments.

So for the Chief to seemingly pick me over Snotlout, who made everyone know that he expected the torch to be passed to him…

"Where's Snotlout?" I asked Hookfang as we walked up the hill to Town Hall.

The shy Nightmare cringed. He glanced at Town Hall and then back to me pleadingly.

I sighed. Well, might as well get it over with.

We strode into the building, which was much more empty than usual. Hiccup and Toothless were still lost in their discovery. Haugaeldr had also joined their conversation, his ever-focused eyes sharp and cunning. He had Hiccup's sandbox strapped on, and every so often, he glanced down at it eagerly. They hardly even noticed it when I glanced around the room, found Snotlout sulking at a corner table, and led us right over to him.

He saw us coming, pretended not to see, and stared at his plate in front of him. He refused to so much as glance up even as I stood right next to him and waited for an acknowledgment.

"Knock it off," I said, whapping his helmet. "We're getting breakfast, and then we're going to talk."

"Ow!" Snotlout complained, shoving his helmet back into place. "Just leave me alone!"

Hookfang stepped forward and curled around the table so that he could rest his head on the seat next to Snotlout. He peered big-eyed up at him and burbled something, his voice arcing in pitch. It was like a whine I'd often hear from Stormfly.

Snotlout looked skyward in exasperation, groaned, and scratched his dragon behind the horns. "I know, I know, sorry for leaving you..."

I turned back to the others, who had finally realized who I'd led them to. Stormfly eagerly sat beside Hookfang, hoping for scratches of her own. Hiccup grimaced. Toothless lifted a brow at me as if to ask, Why are we doing this, again?

"Well, time for breakfast!" Hiccup said with fake cheer, rushing off to get some food. Before he followed his other half, Toothless' eyes flicked to Snotlout, who was now mumbling to Hookfang and reluctantly petting Stormfly as well. Haugaeldr settled down right at the tableーa sort-of alarming habit from a dragon, but he was pretty weird, anyway.

When all of us had gotten our meals and returned, Snotlout's shoulders were drooping. I sat next to him while Hiccup and Toothless settled across next to Haugaeldr.

We endured a tension-choked silence for less than a few seconds before Toothless rolled his eyes and let out a garbled growl. Hiccup gave him a wide-eyed look, practically begging him not to force his translation.

"Yes, Toothless?" I asked him pointedly.

Hiccup sighed, looking just as defeated as Snotlout. He looked at his cousin. "He, uh...well, he said, 'Stop moping like a hatchling and tell us what's bothering you.'"

Snotlout scowled into his meal. "Isn't it obvious?" he said.

"We can only assume, since you're not telling us," I told him.

Snotlout's angry look deepend. He stabbed his spoon into his porridge.

Hiccup met my eyes, and there was a strange, almost regretful glimmer in his gaze. He faced his cousin. "Snotlout," he said. "I know the way Dad treated you yesterday and today upset you. Honestly…" he glanced down at his hands, spooning his own meal back and forth across his plate. "...he used to do the same thing to me, before...well, everything. I...I really hated it."

"Easy for you to say now," Snotlout grumbled under his breath.

Toothless' eyes narrowed and his ears flattened to his skull. Haugaeldr, who had been in the process of taking off Hiccup's sandbox, glanced sharply up at him.

"Hey," I said in a voice usually reserved for scolding Stormfly. "If you haven't noticed, we're trying to make you feel better. Blaming us isn't fair."

"Well, I think the way I'm being treated isn't fair!"

"So you take it out on us? On Hookfang?" I said. That hit the spot; Snotlout winced with guilt, one of his hands reflexively resting on his dragon companion's nose. "If you have a problem with the way the Chief hands out duties, then bring it up to him. Not everyone else around you."

"But it isn't just him!" Snotlout exploded. "You do it, tooーall of you! And especially you!" he said, pointed his spoon at a very, very offended Toothless. "And now, everyone's made up their minds that I'm not important! Even the twins get jobs over me!"

"Fake jobs, Snotlout," I corrected him.

"Whatever!" he said, throwing his hands up. "Either way, I'm not an idiot! I see your not-so-secret looks between each other when I bring up who'll be Chief next. And I see how none of you think I'm important enough to do it!"

Toothless half-hissed, half-garbled something. Hiccup shot him a scolding look and, again, didn't translate for him right away.

"Well? Out with it!" Snotlout demanded.

Hiccup hesitated. "I think we're all just tired from our long flight yesterday," he tried to ease his cousin. "We should just eat our breakfast andー"

"What did he say?" Snotlout growled, staring defiantly at Toothless, who had mastered a calm, scornful look to perfection.

Hiccup seemed to pull into himself. "He said...'Everyone treats you like you're not important because you spend all your time trying to fill another human's footsteps. You need to do something important to be important.'"

Well...damn. I couldn't help but grimace, suddenly regretful that Hiccup had translated. Toothless was always more blunt than he wasn't, and almost never softened his blows; valuable when needing honest advice, but in this case?

The Chief's nephewーand second-in-lineーstared at Toothless, his pale face blank with shock and rage.

The chair clattered to the ground. Hookfang yelped and scrambled to his feet. Snotlout turned on his heel and walked away.

"Snotlout," Hiccup desperately tried to do damage control. He stood up. "Hold onー"

"Save it, dragon-boy," Snotlout hissed, his voice dripping with scorn.

Hiccup flinched, taking a step back, his wide eyes suddenly distant and far away. Toothless lifted his wings, showed all of his teeth in a dangerous glint against his dark scales, and snarled.

Silence fell.

The fearsome challenge echoed against the walls. Wide eyes, dragon and human alike, swung in our direction. Not a soul moved.

It had been years since a dragon had directed such a sound towards a human and meant it.

Though he was a blockhead, Snotlout was no coward. He stiffened and halted mid-stepーand then stalked straight out of Town Hall, trailed by Hookfang and dozens of stares.

I whipped around, my blood rushing to my ears and my mouth dry. "What was that?!" I hissed at Toothless.

Toothless' leer softened. He turned to his other half and went still, pupils narrowing.

Hiccup's hand had gone to his heart, the fabric of his tunic clenched between bloodless-white fingers. His face was as pale as Snotlout's had been, like the dull gray of an overcast sky.

My frustration left me as quickly as it had come. "Are you okay?" I asked, taking a step closer and putting a hand on his shoulder.

He blinked several times, as if waking from a dream, and settled his eyes on mine. "I-it's nothing," he said softly. Toothless crooned. His brother relaxed from a wide-legged stance I'd hardly noticed he'd taken.

Though I wanted to press the issue, I hesitated and nodded. What had...?

Dragon-boy. The nickname that, for years, had immediately been followed by a hiss from Toothless and Hiccup sternly saying: Don't call me that. He'd only begun to put his foot down afterー

Shame and sudden, dreadful realization blasted through me. My mind flew backwards, memories from five years ago forging to the front of my thoughts. Memories of the very few times I had witnessed Drago Bludvist speak to Hiccup.

Gods, I was an idiot. Peace had pulled a blindfold over my eyes, making me forget how hard we had fought for it. How close we came to losing it.

And the price we had paid for it.

The rest of breakfast passed without much to say between all of us. When we were done, Haugaeldr eagerly threw the sandbox on the table and began chattering away. This caught Hiccup's interest, at least, although I could still tell that his mind was wandering. Even Toothless was distracted, looking out the door where Snotlout had gone every now and then.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

We were a team. We had to work together well. All of our success so far had depended on just that. If something like this got between us...between Snotlout and Hiccup, of all people...it would be nearly impossible for us to work cohesively.

But, as much as I hated admitting it, Snotlout had a point. I thought of yesterday, when I'd given everyoneーeven the twinsーa task. Everyone, except him.

I would give Snotlout some space, I decided. Then I would come up with something for him to do, and not just some pity-task that you gave a child who wanted to feel older. Something valuable.

And then I would smack him upside the head for stooping so low, for purposefully stomping on a very clear boundary, for hitting where he knew it would cut deep out of nothing but spite. For five years, nobody had used the insult dragon-boy to imply Hiccup was something less...or something worse.

I wasn't about to have our team torn apart because of it.

o.O.o

The next morning, I rose just as the last stars were winking out. Stormfly grumbled and complained when I woke her, but got up nonetheless.

The sun was just inching on the horizon, a magenta-orange streak against ocean-deep blue. The air was chilly, frosting with each breath and spiraling into the black above. I welcomed the crisp, clean air that seemed to swell in my lungs. It kept me awake and alert; much better than a warm summer morning, when it was easy to doze off in the sluggish languor.

First we went to the dragonery, where the messenger-dragonsーusually Terrorsーresided. There was a basket for new messages into Berk and dozens of outgoing baskets for specific places and even people. All of them had their own bright, unique patterns painted onto them, which was at least something the dragons could understand. There was one incoming scroll in the basket specifically for the Chief or Hiccup and Toothless. I almost left itーand then remembered my new responsibilities.

I plucked it out of the basket, broke the wax seal, and unfurled the message. It was crumpled where tiny Terror claws had gripped it. Stormfly bustled in and got a good sniff of it.

Hiccup,

Me and the big fella are dropping in for another visit in the next week or so. We need some food, clothing, supplies, and as much alcohol of any kind as possible. Tempy is bored and in another one of his rebellious moods. I'd bet the rest of my grog he'll follow us. And I keep my grog even from the lads. Make sure you clear anything important from his bay.

Eret

I threw my head back and groaned. Not because of Eret's visitーbut because of who was coming with him.

The Bewilderbeastーnicknamed for his childish temper, although he could hardly help it at the timeーhad a bad habit of trying to climb up on the island to play with our dragons.

"Looks like your third-best friend is visiting soon," I told Stormfly. She cocked her head. "Tempy?"

At that, she gaped a huge dragon-grin and bobbed up and down in excitement, babbling excitedly. I grinned, already resigning myself to being saddle-sore for days after the visit, and furled the paper up to give to Hiccup later.

Next, we checked in on our supply chain. We went to the docks, taking note of how many fishing-teams had flown out. Then we checked in on our flocks of sheep, who scrambled away from Stormfly at the first whiff of her. The meat-drying and meat-salting for the winter was coming along well, and all of our storesーnow dug underground, directly into the stones with the help of magic-sharp dragon clawsーkept our stocks cold and dry. I picked through them, grabbing the occasional moldy citrus-fruit and grimacing at such a waste, and let Stormfly have a taste. She always insisted on trying the "new" food, and every time, she gagged and spit it out. Today was no different.

By the time we left the final store, the dawn had brightened into morning and plenty of people and dragons were awake. Dragons preened each other or were washed and oiled by their human companions to remove ticks, scale-mites, and other parasites. It seemed like every time we passed another flying dragon, Stormfly cried Hello!, one of the only dragon-words I was sure I knew. They returned the greeting in kind, and if any Vikings were astride them, I waved.

Stretching and smiling into the rushing wind, I took a mental tally of our morning tasks. We were pretty far ahead. "You ready for breakfast, girl?" I asked Stormfly, patting her neck.

We jerked forward, Berk blurring around us. I was still a little dazed when we landed at Town Hall. Stormfly barely waited for me to dismount before barging in and rushing for one of the many fish-filled containers set out for the dragons.

It was still fairly early, so I was surprised to see Hiccup, the Chief, Toothless, and Haugaeldr at a table.

"Hey!" I greeted them after I'd gotten my meal. I grabbed the letter and set it down in front of the Chief and Hiccup. "I got a message from Eret. He'll be showing up soon...with Tempy."

Toothless groaned. Hiccup choked on his meal. "We're using his bay to dock our ships for the winter!"

"I know," I said. "I'll work on relocating them to the western side of the island. With winter coming soon, they won't be useful for us, anyways."

The Chief nodded approvingly. "I was about to say the same," he said. "Listen, Astrid. The boys told me about what happened yesterday."

I stiffened, but tried to keep my expression calm. "I'll handle it," I said. To Hiccup, I went on, "he had no right saying that to you."

"You shouldn't have to handle it," Hiccup reassured me. "I think there's...more to it than just what he said." He glanced at his father, somewhat forlorn. "I'll talk to him. But thank you, Astrid."

"If you say so," I said, brows furrowing. It was probably more of his business, after all; I would back down if he asked me to. I still planned on having some words with Snotlout, though. He'd been rude to me, too.

Well, I guess that was it, then. With nothing more to say on the matter, I said, "So, have you guys thought about the news from yesterday?"

Toothless perked up and nodded excitedly. Hiccup chuckled and garbled something at him. Which reminded me of another thing.

"Oh, and how's your Book of Dragonese going?" I asked.

Thwack.

Haugaeldr had the sandbox open on the table and was strapping something to his paw before I could even blink. I stretched out my fingers, which had been inches from being crushed, and looked at them with new appreciation.

"He's got a lot of ideas," Hiccup summarized it all. He nodded to the sandbox as Haugaeldr began drawing different combinations of lines on them. "He's already trying to think of how to transcribe dragon sounds, almost like composing music. But...this whole thing with the Night Furies…"

"You want to go find them," I said. If they're still there, I didn't dare add when Toothless was listening. I had never seen him so...young-looking, eyes huge and excited, bouncing in place like Stormfly always did. I knew nothing about his upbringing, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that he had not been around other Night Furies in a long, long time.

Hiccup nodded with the same enthusiasm, although his eyes were still almost regretful. "He hasn't heard anything about Night Furies since he...ended up in the north. We have to go look for them. But it means that the Book of Dragonese might be put on hold."

Haugaeldr raised his lips to show teeth and narrowed his eyes in a dragon scowl. He barked something at the two.

"He wants to wait until the book is done," Hiccup explained. His expression flattened. "He's got this whole schedule planned out, where if we pay the small price of giving up sleep, food, bathing, and rest, we can get it done in a few weeks."

I took a sip of water. "So take him with you."

All four of them stared at me. Toothless' ears dropped and his eyes widened in dawning horror.

Haugaeldr outright screamed in excitement, leaping into the air and zipping in excited circles. That, of course, riled Stormfly up, who leapt into the fray and began a game of chase with him.

"It just makes sense," I said. "The map shows those mountains are at least a week's worth of flying away. And that doesn't even count the time searching the place. It would be a lot of time spent just flying and resting on islands. Besides, you'd get bored or worry yourself to death eventually."

Hiccup hummed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the table, eyes distant with new calculations. "That does make sense…"

Toothless gave me a look of deep, deep betrayal. I shrugged helplessly.

Haugaeldr fluttered to a landing beside us, Stormfly in tow. He clucked at Hiccup and Toothless, wriggling his rump. He pointed his nose at the sandbox for emphasis and flared his wings.

"Now you've done it," the Chief laughed. He sobered, and then asked, "But I must be honest. With news of Grimmel still out in the world causing chaos, I don't like the thought of you two going alone. Especially when Grimmel's last known location is so close."

"But that's why we should hurry there," Hiccup said. "What if we find them before he does?"

"And then what?" I asked. Very carefully, I suggested, "Bring them back to Berk?"

Through Hiccup, Toothless said, "We don't know, but we must find them before he does. And we can fly faster when it's only us."

"Boys," the Chief sighed. "We don't even know if they're there. But we do know that Grimmel has been nearby in the past year. Night Furies are a spectacle; sightings from even years ago are news. I worry that someone will spot you, and word will travel fast to Grimmel. Besides, for all we know, they flew somewhere else long ago."

Hiccup and Toothless deflated, forlorn expressions identical. I had a feeling this argument had already been told to them once before, and they definitely didn't like it better hearing it the second time.

"It's more than anything we've heard in five...no, six years, if you count when...when I was a dragon," Hiccup said. He looked down at his hands, studying them like they were some interesting dragon scales he'd picked up off the ground. "I remember being a spectacle among dragons, too."

Toothless nodded. "I have never seen or heard of Shadow-Blenders in all my time here," he spoke through Hiccup. "All dragons who even know of Shadow-Blenders are surprised to see me in the north. I promise you, King, I will keep us both safe." Haugaeldr piped up and he rolled his eyes. "Although I'm not sure about Haugaeldr."

"The point is," Hiccup went on, "If it takes years to gather such a small amount of new information, when will the next time be when we hear something?"

"I just want you to think about it," the King said. "I won't force you. But this is a journey that will easily go into the winter. We wouldn't hear from you for months. What if something happened to you? What if Grimmel found you?"

"You said you never believed any of his stories," Hiccup accused.

The Chief looked evenly at Hiccup, brows low over his eyes. "I once said the same of Drago Bludvist."

A stone sunk in my gut. Hiccup and Toothless stiffened, the both of them inching a little closer to each other. They turned to each other, meeting each others' eyes.

Long lines drew across Hiccup's face as he found something in Toothless' stare. He turned back to us, and suddenly he was so...sad. He put a hand on Toothless' forehead, and his brother looked up at the Chief, his eyes dim with the same strange sorrow.

"Dad…" Hiccup said after a long moment. "We need to find them."

"Hiccup," the Chief groaned.

"Drago had a Night Fury cloak," Hiccup interrupted him, his voice tight. Toothless winced, leaning into him, looking away.

The Chief silenced. I bit my lower lip.

"Did you recognize it?" I asked Toothless softly.

He shook his head with a small croon.

"He doesn't know for sure," Hiccup said, keeping close to Toothless as his head lowered. "But...his mother's scales once looked like it."

The Chief let out a long breath. "Very well," he said, defeated.

The two seemed caught between shock and delight, but at least they perked up.

"And I'm coming with you."

"What?" Hiccup, Toothless, and I yelped.

The Chief's expression had hardened with determination. "I'll not have you go off into danger alone. Not again. Never again." He turned to me. "Astrid. I wanted to wait for this, but this is too important. For the time that we are gone, you will be acting Chief."

I could only gape at him, sure that I was dreaming, or hallucinating, or had heard something wrong. Taking on extra responsibility was one thing, but...this?!

"B-but," I stammered. "IーI don't even know everything, and I've neverー"

"I know," he said. "And I'm sorry." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and turning back to the table. He met Hiccup's bewildered stare. "I know you will not be the heir," he said softly, "because you will be a dragon. But…"

Hiccup's face sunk. "I'm sorry, Dad," he said.

"No." His voice was firm. "You've done nothing wrong, son." The Chief straightened up, seeming to shake off his ghosts. "We've all known this for years now, but I...waited. We don't have that luxury anymore, and Berk needs to train a Chief to come after me." He turned to me. "What do you say, Astrid?"

My heart raced like a Gronkle's wingbeats. I was vaguely aware of my hands clenched tight together, fingernails digging into my skin.

The Chief's heir. Me.

It would mean all of Berk would be my team, instead of just my friends. It would mean working with the other villages to keep everyone safe. It would mean keeping the peace, once guarded like an unsteady flame in a windy night, only now gaining strength enough to provide warmth. It would mean seeing past it, watching the storms from afar, preparing to shelter it. Preparing to make hard decisions. To make sacrifices.

I glanced at Hiccup. He smiled at me, though it was small.

Looking into those bright green eyes, once so haunted, it all seemed so fragile now. Our place in the world. Our way of life. Humans and dragons, together, for the first time in history.

But together, Hiccup and I, we could make it last.

"I…" I said, my mouth dry. I took another drink of water and drew in a breath, centering myself. I lifted my eyes to his and forced steadiness into my voice, no matter how hard my body shook with anxious excitement.

"It would be an honor, Chief."

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

nameless

The next morning, our flock collected at our gathering place to discuss assignments.

Killed the Sea Serpent woke me up first with a gentle nudge, and then with a sharp cuff over the ear when I merely buried my nose into my paws. Because I spent so much time in the Under, I only occasionally joined these gatherings...and I was not used to having to wake up early.

We descended in drowsy spirals around the lavender pillar. I struggled to keep my eyes open, sight-sounding as we went so that I wouldn't fly into something.

I hadn't slept under such a comforting cloak of warmth since I was a swimling, curled up against my clutchmates and our caretakers. It cast an uncomfortable light onto what I had once called the soothing touch of the Under's cold. Was that bitter chill truly as welcoming as I had always imagined? Or was it simply the only place I could take refuge in?

I landed with a light splash on the shore of the lake. The willow leaves brushed against each other with the wind of dragons flying about, a soft whistling-song of the morning. I blinked against the golden sunlight, trying to adjust my eyes to the sting of it. It was not as bad as yesterday, but still dazzling.

"Hello."

I jolted and swiveled to my right, where another dragon had approached. With sight-sounds and scent, I recognized her and lowered my head and wings. "Hello, Fought the Leader."

"Are you feeling well?" she walked around me in a circle, sniffing at my injuries, her exhalations a ghost across my scales.

I opened my mouth to lie, but then paused, brows lifted. I actually did feel better. "Yes?"

She grunted in approval and sat down next to me. I tapped my paws in anxiety, wanting to slink away, held in place by the knowledge that it would be terribly impolite. She was one of the few dragons who had been kind to me in the past few days; if she wanted to stand next to me, even though I could not comprehend why, then she had every right to.

For some time, neither of us said anything. Our flockmates descended around us. The majority, I noticed, gave us a wide berth.

"I'm sorry."

I swung towards her, mouth falling open. "W-what?"

She was just close enough for me to see the drooping of her ears and side-frills, the downcast slanting of her eyes. "I told you to go Above. That very day, you were attacked by a dragon who thought you a curse. Had I not spoken, you would have stayed Under."

"And for how long would she have stayed Under?" a new voice interrupted: Killed the Sea Serpent. She had approached while Fought the Leader spoke, silent as a phantom.

Knowing no other way to respond to her strange apology and our leader's agreement with it, I hunched submissively, eyes downcast. "I don't blame you," I whispered to Fought the Leader.

"Of course you shouldn't," Killed the Sea Serpent said. "It is that fool's fault alone. But," she stepped so close to me that I could feel warmth radiating off her scales and lifted her voice so that everyone could hear, "I am glad that now you are Above, with the rest of our flock."

There was some incredulous muttering, but most of our flock was wise enough to keep their thoughts to themselves.

"Now, let's take our responsibilities."

The word caretaker came to my tongue, and I swallowed it, the taste of it now bitter. Caretakers worked Under.

"Hunter!" one dragon called, and many padded over to him. I would do well with that if I could swim in the ocean. My sight-sounds were especially refined; I knew I could catch a lot for everyone. But that walked the line between Above and Under too closely, and I didn't want to risk angering Killed the Sea Serpent after all of the kindness she had given me.

"Sporer!" another cried, with the same result. I snorted. That was the one job I would never do.

"Caretaker!" someone else called. I looked away.

"Teacher!" came another voice. I perked up a little. Teachers taught fledglings after they had graduated from being swimlings. By virtue of being fledglings, they stayed Above. But because fledglings ascended through the Above slowly, just like swimlings did as they learned to swim, sight-sound, and hunt underwater, that meant spending much more time around sting-smell mushrooms.

With a nod at me, Fought the Leader got up and walked towards today's group of teachers. I rose and hesitated, tapping my paws and twitching my tail. Would it be a good choice? Would I eventually get used to the mushrooms, like I always hoped I would, or would I fall asleep wracked with headaches and zinging pain down my spine and limbs once again?

Either way, I ended up without a choice.

Killed the Sea Serpent stepped right next to me. "Patroller!" she announced.

I balked. Patrol responsibility?!

Our flock lived close enough to one of the jagged sides of the Shell that we could fly over it. Because of that, we took on patrol responsibility, defending the edge of our territory from Outsiders. Deeper into the Shell, so far that a dragon couldn't see the Shell's edges or hear the ocean even if they flew up very high, the responsibility was replaced by scouters. Our flock used to have scouters to protect our territory's inner edge, but we usually didn't have anyone encroaching on our long-established borders. It was rare to have someone choose such a responsibility.

Several dragons splashed over, eager to help our leader in such an exciting job. The nameless male was one of them. I stared at my feet, pretending not to notice how hard he tried to catch my eye.

Killed the Sea Serpent grunted in approval. "A good group," she said. "Let's be off!" She launched up, up, up, dissolving into the great blue of the sky.

We leapt after her, our wings casting billowing winds onto the willow trees below. The Shell dropped with dizzying speed below, becoming nothing more than a wash of luminescence, fog, and greenery. My chest tightened. The sky was a vast emptiness, with nothing to sight-sound against.

The dragons ahead of me were washed-out gray blurs with the occasional flash of color reflecting off of their necks. They melted away, the skylight shifting their scales slate-blue and hidden from my poor eyesight. I could follow the sounds of their wingbeats and the scent of our flock, but what if it became too windy to hear or smell? What if I tried to sight sound in the endless blue and nothing returned to me?

With my heart in my throat, I pushed forward until I was just behind a dragon in our flock, close enough to feel the turbulence that their wide wings spun into the air. By their scent, I identified them—him as the nameless male. That alone made me cast my ears and nose about, searching for another dragon to follow instead. But though I could hear and smell them, all of the sounds and scents mingled with the sky-winds, and I was too afraid to branch off chasing a trail that would fade away, leaving me alone in the nothingness.

Somewhere up ahead, Killed the Sea Serpent shouted, "Raced the Auroras, you take a group to the north. Struck By Lightning, you do the same to the south. I will take the nameless east."

Both dragons cried out in affirmation. The air whistled off of their wings as they tucked them and swooped away.

Up ahead, a dark gray blur apparated like a heat-wave mirage. Then the form of our leader materialized above us, the sun catching her neck scales in brilliant magenta hues.

"Now," she said, "Let's see about getting you two some names."

o.O.o

I swayed and dipped with the sky-winds, my heart racing in my chest. Easing into them, I cast my sight-sounds out. Very, very few returned to me, bouncing off of the sunset-bathed clouds in a fuzzy blur.

There.

Something small and solid zipped in the cloud of awareness around me. I snapped my head around, locked onto it, and tucked my wings, sight-sounding rapidly. The creature came into focus—a bird with enormous wings, flapping wildly to avoid me. It tucked away, trying to fool me into a dive so that it could snap its wings open and split away at the last second.

I played into its game, my sight-sounds a stream of excitement and hunger. The sea-bird curled its body and wings, catching a stray wind that would spiral it to safety. I braced my wings against air gone solid, flung my tail opposite the wind, and twisted so tight that my vision spun with black spots.

I did not rely on my eyes. My sight-sounds worked perfectly well among the chaos of a good chase.

The slap of the air fighting my chaotic lunge, a shriek, and I snatched the bird in my teeth and shook it, hoping to kill it quickly. While I enjoyed the flavor, I always felt a little sad hunting birds. Unlike fish, they cried out in fear and pain.

I knew what it felt like to be hunted.

The bird died with a thin-twig-snap of its neck. Immediately afterwards came the rustle of wings to my left. A gray dragon with vibrant orange neck scales, the same color as the sunset spilling through the sky around us, pulled up beside me.

The nameless male.

I shifted a little away.

"That was amazing!" he whooped. "I would have lost it for sure!"

"Fankf 'oo," I garbled around the bird, looking away. Still, I couldn't keep a smile from my lips, nor could I keep my body from swaying back and forth with pride and happiness. It had been a good catch, hadn't it? And he sounded so proud…

No. I had gotten him hurt. I couldn't let him get close to me.

Name or not, the other dragons knew that I was cursed.

A high whistle and gust of wings announced Killed the Sea Serpent's arrival. "Good hunting!" she said.

I hunched my shoulders, ears drawing back. Having the nameless male congratulate me was one thing, but our flock leader? I didn't deserve it. What was I supposed to do?

Eventually, I managed to wrangle my frantic thoughts into a proper response. "'Oo ou ant omfe?" I asked them.

"Only if you want to share after working so hard for it!" Killed the Sea Serpent chuckled.

The nameless male piped up in agreement. They each took turns, one coming over and tearing a piece off, followed by the other. It was messy and awkward. Still, as I crunched around my portion and swallowed it, running my tongue over my teeth, I couldn't hold down a little ember of contentment building in my heart. I tried to stifle it, scolding it Under, but to no avail.

We flew together for some time. It was strange, being in a flock. The nameless male and our leader flanked me, as if I was the important one. I was so used to skirting on the outside that I had to fight not to pull back so that I was behind them.

"Well," Killed the Sea Serpent said after some time, "I think that's enough for today. Let's go home." She lifted away and let out a piercing call. It speared through the air, and in the far distance, I heard the acknowledgments of our flockmates carried on the wind.

We swiveled back towards our home, the sheer mass of the Shell filling the horizon. The pink and orange of the sunset caught in the crystals and shimmered like a star calling us home. The others joined us, taking up position around us and sending huge drafts of wind all through the air. I pushed my wings harder, swinging my tail and pitching my tailfins up and down to keep myself flying straight. Again, the urge to drop and fall away came over me.

But I didn't go back.

We swooped into our little clearing with the crystal lake and willows. There were some of our flock lounging around, and they perked up and called greetings to us as we returned. Some of them had decided to do patrols for the night. Why, I couldn't even imagine—but after a quick greeting, they flew off to guard our territory.

The rest of the dragons were hunters. They gathered in front of Killed the Sea Serpent and released their catches from their crops. Several dragons had hunted all day today; the pile was more food than I had smelled in a very long time. My stomach turned and twisted with the scent of fish so close.

"Very good hunting," our leader said. "Thank you all."

She and the other named dragons began to eat. I stood a distance away, head lowered, tail swaying in the water of the lake.

The nameless male sidled up beside me. "They won't eat all of it, will they?" he whispered to me.

I shrugged. Usually, they didn't. Luckily, we didn't have to wait too long; we had been out patrolling for a long time, so most other dragons who were fed by hunters—such as the teachers, caretakers, and sporers—had already returned and gotten their fill.

All this meant that our group of late patrollers was the last to be fed. When the named dragons broke away, the nameless male sprang to his feet and sprinted over to the much-smaller pile of fish. I got to my feet and stepped over, keeping my head low, tail dragging along the ground.

Hunted a Whale was one of the last named to eat. He shrugged past me, jostling me so that I stumbled and snapped my wings out to keep my balance. He leered down at me through the corner of his eye and snorted derisively. "Were you helpful during patrol?"

"I-I…" I stammered, flicking my eyes up to meet his. "Nothing happened."

"I suppose that's a blessing," he mused with false courtesy.

A shadow passed over him.

Killed the Sea Serpent was suddenly there, looming over his shoulder. "And would you care to explain what that is supposed to mean?" she hissed.

He dropped low with a high whine, as if she'd struck him. My heart froze in my chest.

"Nothing," he whimpered.

"Exactly," she seethed. "Go."

He needed no further permission. Without even risking one last jab at me, he slunk away, his head lowered and eyes focused on the ground.

"Ignore him," Killed the Sea Serpent said, her voice gentle and kind and so very different from how she'd sounded a moment before, from how anyone ever spoke to me. "That kind of thinking is going to end soon, if I have any say in it."

I grimaced. I didn't want this. I didn't want dragons fighting because of me.

The nameless male had stopped eating, ears pinned tight against his head and tailtip thumping on the ground. I crept up beside him, avoiding looking in his eyes, and took a small share of fish. When I was done, I backed up and turned away, slinking off into the tall blue-green grass.

"Hold on—there's still a few more things to talk about," our leader called out to me.

I stopped, head low, and slowly turned back around.

"I must admit, I was hoping for...a better day," Killed the Sea Serpent said, stepping over to the nameless male and me. "Patrol responsibility is usually uneventful, like today. But," her voice brightened, "when something does happen...well, that's the fastest way to earn a name."

"I appreciate the effort," I said, keeping my head trained on her paws before me, so close that I could touch her if I wanted to.

She sighed. A tongue ran over my head, like I was a swimling being groomed by a caretaker. I blinked several times, too awed by the simple gesture of comfort to do any more than stare at her.

Her smile was sad. "We will find something," she said.

"Can we go further out?" the nameless male asked excitedly.

She snorted. "Of course not! Why would we go looking for trouble?"

I grimaced. Though she hadn't meant it, I could easily finish the thought: I caused enough as it is.

The nameless male huffed in disappointment. "I want to do something exciting. How long does it take for a dragon on patrol responsibility to get their name?"

"Earn a name," Killed the Sea Serpent corrected sternly. "And you earn a name by doing something noteworthy, or by doing something good for the flock." She let out another sigh. "But, to answer your question...it depends on factors outside our control. We cannot predict when Outsiders will try to break into the Shell."

"Or sea serpents," the nameless male grumbled.

A wry smile cut across her muzzle, accentuating the many scars she had accumulated over the seasons. "I would hope not for a long time." She stood up and shook herself off. "I will think on it tonight in my nest. You may go rest, or dream about fighting Outsiders, if that is what you wish," she teased the nameless male. To me, she said, "You may come with me."

Once again I was struck speechless. She...wanted me to come with her?

She had phrased it in such a way that I could refuse. It would be easy to lower my head and whisper no, thank you. And then I would turn around, and then I would creep into the nearest cave Above that I could find. There would be barely any light nor warmth, with no company, no sounds but the running water and pittering of droplets on stones. The only smells of moss and salt and fish.

Dragons fought because of me. Conflict followed me into the Above. I should go Under, where the only dragon harmed by my presence was myself. It would be selfish to keep up this facade of normalcy, like I wasn't the cursed dragon in the Shell, like I hadn't come out from Under on the day that the sun and moon had dissolved into nothing.

A dragon nudged my forehead with their nose. I yelped and snapped out of my thoughts, realizing too late that I had sunken down into a submissive posture, my head so bent that my nose nearly touched the ground.

"It's okay," Killed the Sea Serpent murmured. "Come along." She gazed into my eyes for a moment, some unknown emotion flickering in their amber depths. Then she leapt into the air and hovered to wait for me.

I took in a shuddering breath, guilt heavy in my heart like a stone sinking into black water.

And I chose to be selfish.

I followed our leader up to her nest, where it was warm and bright and where I could pretend, if only for a little while, that I was wanted.

o.O.o

The next morning, our flock gathered for assigning responsibilities. I hadn't even had a second to think about what I might choose before Killed the Sea Serpent stepped up to my side and announced, "Hunters!"

So hunting responsibility it was, then.

Our group set out with those on patrol responsibility, but this time, we did go a little farther out. Our group consisted of Killed the Sea Serpent, the nameless male, several named dragons, and me. We fanned out behind our leader, flying only a small distance above the ocean. Everyone was looking for fish—except me, of course. I sight-sounded deep into the waves, casting out for the familiar flitting-heartbeat reverberation of prey.

After what felt like ages, Raced the Auroras shouted, "I see them!"

There was little warning before she tucked in her wings and plummeted straight for the water. Eager to finally do something, I did the same.

The embrace of the ocean water was much colder than I remembered.

I ignored the shock of it, sight-sounding as soon as I was below the waves. Fish darted wildy about as more and more dragons charged into their domain. Paddling my tail and keeping my wings tucked in close, I shot around them in a wide circle, cutting off their escape. Several other dragons sight-sounded in the water, muddying my perception—but they did help me locate them. I corralled the fish tighter and tighter against my nestmates. We were closing in on them with dragons on all sides, packing them into a ball.

Most importantly, we guided them up towards the surface.

Opportunistic sea-birds plunged into the water as well. My heart raced with excitement. That was even better.

Soon there were dozens of birds and the fish were so frantic to escape that they began to leap out of the water. I shook with anticipation, keeping tight guard of my section of our trap. I knew this was how our flock hunted, but I had never truly been allowed to join in on these group hunts. It was...it was…

Was fun the word? It didn't seem to fit. Because here, below the water, we were all the same. Dragons couldn't speak. They couldn't judge each other by their name or appearance. We were simply together.

Belonging, I realized with a pang in my heart. That was what lifted my spirits so.

A muffled shriek sounded above, followed by the characteristic whistle of our kind. I waited until those who could see above twisted away and zipped below. I followed at once, but the excitement I felt had taken on a nostalgic quality.

Why did I feel this way? Should I?

There was a flash of light above followed by an enormous boom. Waves of sound crashed into me, completely overwhelming my senses. I closed my eyes and pinned my ears and side-frills, waiting the reverberations out.

When they had faded, I squinted my eyes open and sight-sounded above.

All of the fish and sea-birds floated still and silent. Dead.

The dragon who had been the one to fire the shot plunked into the water and immediately began snapping up the kill. The others and I wasted no time, rushing to meet them. We feasted, eating our fill and swallowing more than enough for our crops. We had found a huge flock of fish, even bigger than usual.

One of the last sea-birds drifted nearby. I twisted in the water, sight-sounding lazily. This time I didn't feel nearly as bad about eating it, and at least its death had been quick and unexpected—

A dragon barreled right into me. Hard.

I yelped, sucking in a small amount of water. It was enough to send my heart thundering, my chest heaving, my lungs burning. Fighting off the urge to cough and suck in even more water, I scrambled to the surface. Breaking above the waves, I spluttered and wheezed, my nose stinging with the salt, a deep ache clenching around my heart.

A commotion below—a wing knocking against my leg—and two dragons emerged.

"Apologize," Killed the Sea Serpent snarled.

I nearly fled back below the water, eyes wide and ears pinned. "I-I'm sorry," I whispered.

She turned towards me, a flash of magenta, gold, and blue-grey. "Great Prebirth, not you!" she gasped. Then she twisted to the dragon that, I now realized, she had forcibly surfaced. "Do I need to grab you by your scruff and take you over to her?" she snapped.

Another dragon suddenly popped to the surface next to me. I flinched away.

"Sorry!" the nameless male whispered. "Are you okay? I saw what happened."

The named dragon being punished snorted. A whiff of their scent made its way over to me: Tended the Mushrooms. "We were going for the same bird! It wasn't anything serious."

The nameless male scoffed loudly. I shrunk away from him.

"Don't get involved!" I hissed to him. Meeting his concerned eyes, I begged, "Please."

Killed the Sea Serpent paused, as if waiting to see if the nameless male or I would say anything else. She rounded on Tended the Mushrooms. "Do you think I'm blind?" she said. "Do you think I didn't see how you came from the opposite direction and then went around so that you could rush her? Do you think I didn't notice how you moved out of the way of her sight-sounds, so she couldn't know that you were there?"

As she spoke, Tended the Mushrooms' ears and frills lowered. He averted his eyes.

All of us paddled there, the waves crashing against us.

"Well?" the nameless male growled.

I gaped at the fool, eyes wide, but Killed the Sea Serpent did not scold him for his disrespect. She only watched Tended the Mushrooms, golden eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

All-too-familiar dread clasped me in its cold claws. If only I could dive and swim away. If only our leader wasn't so kind. If only the nameless male didn't try to defend me. Why did he defend me?

How foolish was I to feel as though I belonged, when even our flock's leader demanding it wasn't enough?

"I forgive you," I whispered, my voice and heart as hollow as his apology.

o.O.o

And yet, that night, I chose the selfish thing again.

Settling down into the warm moss of Killed the Sea Serpent's nest, I tried to convince myself that there was hope. That it wouldn't be so bad for me to take refuge here. That one day, I could feel safe and comfortable among our own.

But how could I even humor the idea, when even the thought of tolerating me caused dragons to fight? How long would our flockmates allow Killed the Sea Serpent to punish them over their behavior towards me before they made real challenges against her?

Or, worse—against me?

Killed the Sea Serpent alighted onto the lip of her nest and shook herself off. "Don't worry," she said, padding inside and lying down next to me as though that was the most natural thing to do. "I know you don't like the fighting. But it will wear down with time."

"How do you know?" I asked. I held my resolve to stay distant for scarcely a few seconds. Then, unable to help myself, unable to turn my back on comfort and warmth freely given, I scooted closer to her.

Stupid, selfish thing, I told myself. Playing along like this will only make it hurt more when it all falls apart.

She looked into my eyes and brought her wing over my body. "I know what it feels like to see no joy in life," she said softly. "I know the feeling that drove you Under, where no dragon can hurt you again. But, please," she used her tailtip to tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet her gaze, "don't give up."

I swallowed thickly. "I'll try," I said, my voice heavy. "But…" I looked down. "I don't know how."

She licked my forehead. I closed my eyes and leaned into her like a little swimling.

"Tomorrow will be better," she said. "I promise."

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Hiccup

The next few days raced past.

Toothless and I were no strangers to preparing for long journeys. This one, however, needed a little more finesse, especially since we were taking Dad and Haugaeldr along. We needed to pack enough food and water to last us during any emergencies, coats and blankets for when winter set in, and navigation equipment. Not to mention all of the extra parchment and writing supplies we needed for the Book of Dragonese.

Toothless moaned about how long it was taking the whole time. "We can just hunt for food," he groused over and over. "And even if we can't find shelter, we can always make fires and use our wings to hold the warmth in."

Dad would have none of it. He obsessed over making sure everything was just right-both with our journey, and here on Berk.

Toothless and I had a similar job, too. Several days after we decided to travel, Astrid and Dad worked on moving the ships docked in the young King's bay, while Toothless and I gathered our nest's elders. There were many perching-nests that dotted Berk's landscape, and in the center of Berk, several of them were layered in aerial tiers to pack a lot of dragons close together above all of the houses. Some were roofed, giving space for dragons to rest up high, and others were simple platforms. Much of the elders, and any of our nestmates who had nothing else to do, bustled together at our call.

"I can't believe it," Toothless said, not for the first time, as we watched more and more of our nestmates flutter in. He'd spent a lot of his time acting like...well, acting like me, head lost in the clouds.

I stretched across his back, my whole body vibrating with a purr. "Me neither. We've got everything packed. Once we're done with this, we'll be ready to go."

A small, anxious overtone crept into his voice. "What if…they're not there?"

"Don't you always tell me not to worry?" I teased him, pulling one of his ears. "We'll find out once we get there."

He nodded. But the still tension in his neck and shoulders remained and he dug his claws tighter into the perch we were settled upon.

"It is fine," I thrummed to him.

That, luckily, helped him relax a bit. "Thank you, Hiccup."

We waited a little longer. The gathering of dragons, in turn, caused a crowd to form below. I waved at them and shouted a quick explanation down, and that was enough to get everyone back to business. The river of Vikings resumed its course-except, I noticed right away, what seemed to be a rock parting the river. Someone was still standing there, staring up at us.

I met Snotlout's eyes. He looked away, but didn't leave.

That...was an improvement. During all of the hustle and bustle these past few days, I'd tried to find my cousin and talk to him. Toothless was still furious with him, especially for invoking that name I had worked so hard to erase from my thoughts. It had stung-a lot-to hear the words come from my own cousin's lips. Especially when he had heard me reject it time and time again, even leaping to my defense at other villages if someone tried to use it.

He'd meant it to hurt, and that was what bothered me the most.

I could understand the sting of being brushed off so easily. I knew that feeling all too well. I had lived and breathed it my entire childhood, and now those memories were plagued with resentment.

But why did he blame me?

I had a feeling-one that made my stomach clench, one that I was sure was true.

"Ignore him," Toothless snorted, drawing me from my thoughts. He'd followed my gaze and was sending Snotlout one hell of a stink eye.

"You know I can't," I said. "If he's still there when we're done, we need to go talk to him."

Toothless scoffed and rolled his eyes. "No, he needs to talk to us."

"I'd rather not leave on bad terms," I said. "Having it hang over our heads."

My thoughts traced back five years ago-to the horrible fight I'd had with Dad, being abducted from Berk, spending days agonizing over how I might die and he would think I hated him to my last breath. My gut clenched for real and a shudder crept down my spine.

Toothless pressed his head backwards against mine. "It is fine," he said. "It'll work out. Should we speak now?" He gestured with his nose at the now-enormous crowd of our nestmates lingering on the perches and rooftops.

There were so many dragons that their chattering had become a dull roar, with some actually having to shout to be heard, causing even more dragons to shout. I couldn't even hear the gulls anymore, which was saying something.

I nodded. Toothless raised his head and opened his wings.

A hush descended.

"Nestmates," he began, "As many of you have heard, there have been sightings and reports of Shadow-Blenders for the first time in many turnings of the seasons." The dragons who somehow didn't know gasped and murmured. He waited for the scattered chatter to die down. "Hiccup and I will be traveling to find them, if we can. In our place, we leave the elders to lead together. We trust their judgement, and have told them what to do if there are any emergencies."

"Emergencies?" a cyan, four-legged dragoness gasped. "You expect emergencies?!"

"No, no," I said with a soothing overtone. "We're just being thorough. Very thorough. We will be gone maybe until the spring, and we don't want anyone wondering what we would have them do."

That caused an upstir. The high-pitched rise of anxious, fearful overtones was almost overwhelming.

"My Kings," the tan Flame-Skin called Sandscraper called, "Dragon of the Sun reject this...but what if something happens to you both?"

"We will fly with the human King, who is very invested in our safety," Toothless snorted, drawing even more surprise from our nestmates. "In his place, a young female will act as temporary Queen. You all must know her by now: Astrid, companion of Stormfly."

"I know her!" cried a familiar voice: Hookfang.

He said nothing more.

I tried and failed to suppress a smile at his innocent exclamation.

"I know her, too," came another voice I knew: Noodles, the one-winged Little-Biter. He had climbed up one of the wooden perches to join our nestmates. "She is the one who helped bond us all to the humans in the very beginning. She is smart and cares very much for the peace."

A few dragons called out their agreement and recognition of her. Apparently, Astrid had a reputation among our nestmates, one that nobody had really noticed until just now.

"Follow her commands as you would those of the human King," Toothless said. "And use your best judgement when neither Queen nor elders are there for you. We trust you all to uphold peace and protect our nest. Our stores for the winters are full and our territory is well-guarded. We leave knowing that we have prepared our nest for what struggles the winter will bring. Still, do not be complacent."

So, of course, that was the moment the ocean exploded.

The sun blotted out. A fine spray of water dappled the whole island.

"HELLO!" the young King greeted every single dragon, human, and living thing for miles. My eardrums shook at the sheer volume of his bellow. He rose higher up on his haunches and rested his paws against the cliffs of Berk, grinning with delight.

To their credit, our nestmates had been held in such rapt attention that they all simply froze, digging claws into their perches and staring upwards at the young King with wide eyes.

I took a moment to take in a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. "That's all," I told our still-shocked nestmates. "We will miss you all, and we can't wait to hopefully return with stories of other Shadow-Blenders. Be safe, everyone!"

"Understood!" many cried. In a dazzling array of colors, dozens of our nestmates lifted their wings and took flight. Others settled into their perches, grumbling about the young King's appearance causing such a fright.

I peeked over the perch and let out a relieved sigh. Snotlout was still there, fumbling to put away a dagger he'd drawn. Now that I looked, most of the Vikings were forcibly calming themselves down and putting their weapons away.

My eye caught the bone-jarring flash of light on a sword, and my heart leapt into my throat.

"Hiccup?" Toothless asked.

I tore my eyes back to Snotlout, who-thank the Dragon of the Sun-had put his dagger away. "It is fine," I said, reassuring us both. "C'mon, let's go talk to him. I have a feeling the King will take...awhile."

"Maybe not," Toothless said, pointing upwards.

A sky-blue glitter darted towards the young King. Stormfly and Astrid rose to his eye level. From behind his enormous crest, two other dragons appeared. One, the four-legged, broad-winged Color-Shifter named Anatoli, with Eret in the saddle. At their side flew his mate, the Four-Wing, who had still not accepted a name yet.

"We should probably be up there," I said guiltily.

"Oh? We can go..." Toothless said, always eager to avoid an awkward conversation.

"No," I said. "He waited for us. Let's go."

We glided down to meet him just as Hookfang did the same. Snotlout lifted a hand to Hookfang's snout with a small grin. He turned to us and his expression hardened.

"...hey, Snotlout," I began. "Do you want to talk about the other day?"

He huffed and crossed his arms, his entire posture screaming defensiveness. "Astrid already yelled at me a bunch over it, if that's what you want to do."

I frowned. "I'm not going to yell at you, Snotlout," I said. "I want to talk with you."

"And you certainly have plenty of things to apologize for," Toothless growled.

"I don't need your sass right now," he said, shoving a finger right in Toothless' face.

A shock of anger rushed through my chest. "Snotlout!" I snapped. I closed my eyes and took a breath. "Look," I said, "I'll be honest. The way you acted the other day was unfair, and I think you know it." I met his eyes. "Getting angry about being held accountable is very frustrating, for everyone."

Snotlout screwed his face up, turning to Hookfang. "Well, I'm sorry," he snipped. "There. You got your apology." Hookfang lowered his head for him, and he grabbed one of his horns and swung up into the saddle.

"Wow. So sincere," Toothless said. He half-opened his wings, a clear signal that Snotlout wouldn't be able to just fly away from the conversation.

"Snotlout," I said, trying to keep the angry heat building in my chest to a simmer. "Why are you acting like this? Why are you taking this out on me?"

"Because it's your fault!" Snotlout shouted, throwing his arms up. Hookfang flinched, and he immediately drooped his hands to his head and rubbed him between the eyes.

I reared my head back. I could practically feel invisible ears stick straight up. "My fault?" I repeated.

"What are you even-" Toothless began to hiss.

"Oh, don't even try to act so surprised!" Snotlout said, his face reddening.

But beneath all of that anger was something else.

For years, I had spoken with our nestmates, learning to detect the slightest hint of emotion in overtones. They were incredibly subtle, making them one of the most difficult parts of learning Dragonese. More importantly, it made me very good at listening beneath the surface.

Which meant that when humans spoke, which was always without layering their sounds together, emotions they tried to hide rang clear as bells in my ears.

The anger was just a hasty cover. Beneath it sang hurt. Fear. Sadness.

"Everyone knows Astrid is only where she is because of you!" Snotlout cried. "And because you two are best buddies now, of course Astrid gets to be the important one, and I don't even have a chance! I can't even try to do important things, like you say I should, because none of you think I can! And meanwhile, you get to just turn into a dragon and frolic off with all your dragon buddies, and leave the rest of us behind to pick up your slack!"

And there it is, I thought with humorless sarcasm, even as a pit opened up in my stomach. The real problem. The one I had suspected. The one I had feared.

"Hiccup returning to his dragon self? That's the problem? That's what this is about?" Toothless snarled.

A growl began to rise in my own throat. I clamped it down. "I'm not going to 'frolic off' when I become a dragon," I said, my voice low. I struggled not to raise my lip to show teeth. "Why would you even think that I would?"

"Because dragons don't need to do all the stuff we do!" Snotlout said, exasperated. "They don't need to store food! They don't need to trade and keep up with politics! They don't need to build things! When you become a dragon, all of these things you're responsible for will go right to the next person. And that person should be me, not Astrid!"

At that, I actually had to take a moment to center myself, breathing in and out, in and out. Toothless vibrated with a dangerous growl beneath me.

"First of all," I began, "dragons do need to do all those things, because humans and dragons live together, and we share all of our duties. Together. They don't just laze around and-and-frolic. Second of all, you know full well that the whole reason I'm working on this," I tore the Book of Dragonese out of one of the pockets on my flightsuit and brandished it to him like a shield, "is so that I can keep my responsibilities as a dragon."

Snotlout's shoulders crept up and he pressed his lips into a tight line. "So you get to be the King of dragons, and Astrid gets to be the Chief, and I get to be nothing."

"Once again, I fail to see how this is Hiccup's fault," Toothless said. I was so caught up in my own hurt that I translated without a second thought, adding sarcastic emphasis and all.

Snotlout gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, right, right. I forgot. I'm supposed to do something important to be important. Too bad I can't just turn into a literal-gods-blessed dragon King or be the dragon King's strategy buddy. Too bad I'm so awful that Uncle Stoick would rather break our family's line of Chiefs, dating back to the founding of Berk, than give me even one chance. Too bad that means I'm worthless."

The pure self-loathing roiling beneath his anger hit a note within me, like a tuning fork against a glass. It was enough for me to try to push back my anger. But it was no use; too much had been said for me to simply let it go, wave it off as "Snotlout being Snotlout", like always. Toothless rumbled with a growl, and it vibrated up through my body and met my own, amplifying it, adding fuel to the fire in my heart. I clenched my hands into tight fists, my upper lip lifting.

"Snotlout," I ground out between gritted teeth, "I understand that you feel that Dad has treated you unfairly. I can see how his behavior has made you feel that way. But this?" I gestured broadly between the two of us. "This is wrong. This is unfair. I'm not here for you to take all that out on, or for you to act like our nestmates are lazy or unimportant, or to imply that I would just-just abandon everyone once I'm a dragon!"

He had enough grace to look away. It was brief, but enough for me to take another calming breath.

Get it together, Hiccup, I scolded myself. Getting angry back at him will make things worse.

I waited for him to look back at me and forced my tone into something less low and dangerous. "What Toothless said to you the other day was harsh, and he's sorry."

That was a blatant lie, but Toothless had sense enough to not immediately protest.

"But I have nothing to do with the line of succession," I went on, refusing to look away from his leering, pained eyes. "And if you want to be the Chief so bad, then you should show my Dad that you're capable of it, just like Astrid has. That is why he's putting her in charge while we're gone. She works harder than all of us, even me and Toothless, without being asked to. She does it because she wants to make things better for everyone. And my Dad respects that more than anything."

"And what have you done?" Toothless couldn't resist biting in.

I chose not to translate that. From Snotlout's expression, I knew I didn't need to; he had come to the very same conclusion himself.

The fury flew out of him like a flock of birds springing away from some fright. He drooped, the strength seeming to sap from him, and averted his eyes. He clenched his hands around Hookfang's horns so tight they turned white, but I could still see that they were shaking.

Now guilt began to creep up on me. He'd gone out of line. I understood, rationally, that he was lashing out, that he didn't do it just to be hurtful or to spit accusations left and right. I also understood my own right to being treated with respect.

But clearly this was the result of months, possibly years, of being brushed aside. I'd been a part of that. I'd tip-toed around the problem and even thought that our "not-so-secret looks", as Snotlout called them, were actually...well, secret. Because he was right on one thing: he was treated as not capable, especially by Dad, Astrid, and Toothless. I hoped-Dragoness of the Moon, I hoped-that I hadn't been someone to do it to him, too.

The realization sent a stone of cold dread sinking in my gut. Snotlout-arrogant, overconfident, self-absorbed Snotlout-had just flat-out said that he felt worthless.

I knew that emptiness more than anything.

All my anger snuffed out. "I don't know how to fix this," I said, exhausted down to my bones. "But you are important, Snotlout. I mean it. And I'm so sorry we made you feel like you aren't."

He shrugged. "Whatever," he muttered. He leaned away, guiding Hookfang's head skywards. "C'mon, Hookie."

"Are you seriously-" Toothless began, outraged. I pressed a hand to his forehead and he stopped.

With one last wide-eyed look at us, Hookfang lifted his wings and fluttered into the air. The dragons and Vikings who had all been eavesdropping avoided the two, pretending to be intensely interested in whatever was directly in front of them.

He just needed time to cool down. That had to be it. Then he would at least be calm enough for us to knock some sense into him, and we could fix this whole...giant mess.

Or, at least, I hoped, watching as Hookfang veered away from the King, Astrid, and Stormfly. He dipped his wing to the cliff updrafts and soared high above Berk, until he was nothing more than speck on the winds.

o.O.o

By the time we reached the cliffs, Dad had joined Astrid to help with the damage control. They stood at the docks nestled on the shore, far below us.

Apparently, not all the ships had been moved successfully, and quite a few had been knocked around. They stood with Eret, Anatoli, and Anatoli's mate, while Stormfly hovered at the young King's eye level and chatted about her day with him.

Toothless swooped low, close enough for a glide. I could really, really use that.

For once, Toothless didn't yelp an objection when I suddenly flung myself from his back and snapped my wings and fins open. He merely glanced over at me, meeting my eyes. Our link sparked to life.

It'll be okay, he told me, more through emotions, half-formed thoughts, and memory-images than actual words. You know how he is. He angled himself just close enough to brush his wingtip against mine. His confidence and reassurance swelled around me. I'll even apologize for real, if that helps.

I gave him a half-hearted smile. Thank you.

With that, we had to break our link-or deal with the consequences of not watching where we were flying. I led us in a slow, spiraling descent and took in a deep draw of the cleansing, wild sea-winds. The air danced across my wings, brushing against the scales of my flightsuit. The weightlessness of flight always lifted my heart and mind out of any darkness, and it worked its charm. I couldn't help but close my eyes for a moment, my smile widening a little, and let the winds guide me in gentle dips and sways.

The flight was too short, like always. We neared enough to land, and I threw my legs down like a tail, dragging the base-fins sprouting from my hips and the tailtip-fins from my ankles against the wind. The wind scolded me for fighting it, tugging and pulling like a solid thing. I grit my teeth and kept my wings stretched out against it. Once I reached a speed where I wouldn't tumble straight into the ocean, I folded my wings to my sides and let myself drop. The ground rushed up and pounded against my feet, and I took several steps forward to bleed off my momentum...taking me right into the circle of people. Toothless fluttered to a near-silent landing just at my side.

Eret's back had been turned to Toothless and me. He turned at the sound of someone landing and nearly leapt away when he saw me standing right next to him. "Ah!" he cried, drawing snickers from Astrid, Haugaeldr, and the other two dragons. He flattened his brow at me. "A little warning next time would be pleasant."

Dad laughed and clapped me on the back. "Well, where's the fun in that?"

"Hello, Kings!" Anatoli chirped, dropping into the strange bow of his nest. He lowered his head to the ground and planted one forefoot far out, the other behind, and stretched his wings against the ground. His mate, the Four-Wing, did the same.

"Hello," Toothless and I said, bobbing our heads in turn.

"Good timing, Hiccup," Astrid said. "Eret was just giving report from his men's patrols."

"Right!" Eret said, as if just remembering he was doing that. "Well, I'm glad to say: there's news, for once."

"Shadow-Blenders?" Toothless asked hopefully. Anatoli and his mate both perked up and shared a glance between each other.

"Drago's pirates have all but given up on our dragons now, especially with 'ole Tempy here eager to save the day." He nodded backwards to the young King, who was still enraptured by whatever Stormfly was saying to him. "They seem to be moving south, away from our waters."

"Good riddance," Dad said. "But we musn't let our guard down."

Toothless, however, drooped. "Oh...I thought, maybe…"

Eret lifted a brow. "Well, don't get too excited, o bringers of peace."

"It's not that," I said, pressing my side against Toothless'. "We've heard some news of Shadow-uh, Night Furies, so it seemed you had something to say about them, too."

Eret's eyes widened. "Night Furies?" he repeated. "I thought they were all gone."

"As did we," Anatoli added, nodding the human way for Eret's benefit.

"Er, condolences, Kings," the Four-Wing said awkwardly, lowering his head.

Toothless' eyes flicked between them, his pupils thinning. "Why do you all say that?"

After I translated, Eret grimaced. "It's been said for awhile now that they were hunted to extinction."

"By Grimmel the Ghastly?" Astrid pried.

Eret's head snapped up. "Where'd you hear that name?"

"From Trader Johann," Astrid said. "You actually just missed him. He had news of Night Furies being spotted in the southwest, as well as Grimmel the Ghastly being sighted in some of the warring countries on the southern continent."

"Damn," Eret said. "He sells the best ale...well, we can probably track him down, ey big fella?" He patted Anatoli.

"Yes, we shall feed your dependence," Anatoli said with a roll of his eyes. "But only if I can have some as well."

"But," Eret said, his humored expression hardening, "if Grimmel's been sighted nearby-and I count even somewhere as far as that 'nearby'-then I'd be extra cautious with all your flying around. He's a bad sort. He's very good at what he does, and he makes a twisted game of it."

"He didn't really...he couldn't wipe them all out," I said. "Right?"

Eret's grave look did nothing to help my already-dampened mood. "Well…" he began. He sighed. "I'll be straight with you, lad. There's something about my past I've never told you. After gettin' to know you, I felt like it would drive conflict between us, and...frankly, with everything I know now,'' he gestured at Anatoli, the Four-Wing, and the young King, "I'm ashamed."

"You worked with Grimmel," Dad guessed. Toothless and I stiffened.

Eret nodded, looking somewhat relieved he didn't have to say it. "When I was only a boy, younger than you," he nodded to me, "I lived on the mainland. Dragons are nearly fairy-tales down there; entire generations go by without seein' 'em. A couple of Furies took to nesting in the mountains near my village. We lost dozens of animals to them, and even more men from trying to chase them out. Nobody knew what to do. Some people even thought they were sent by the gods to punish us. For a year or so, we starved, listening to the beasts plunder our village night after night, completely helpless to stop them. Then, one day, Grimmel waltzed right into our village."

A wry grin split across his lips. "He was a sight for sore eyes, then. Looked thin as a fishbone, but seemed to carry the power of the mountains at his heels. He had dragons of his own, you see-Deathgrippers, they're called, big gnarly beasts with a poisonous sting and bite. He'd somehow heard of our...problem...and come to fix it. And…"

The nostalgia creeped off of his face. He looked directly at my brother.

Toothless was frozen to the spot, pupils mere slits, staring unblinking at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, lad," Eret sighed. "I won't sugar-coat it for you. Grimmel killed those dragons in their nest, and he led a whole party with him to prove he could."

A shudder went through Toothless and then jumped into my own body. We curled closer to each other.

"How...how many?" Toothless asked, his voice barely above a weak whisper.

"Four," Eret said after I'd translated. His words struck like a dragon swooping at high speed above, snapping the neck of whatever prey it had dove upon. "A nesting mother as well as three adults. A few eggs, too." He hung his head. "I'm ashamed now to say I was dazzled. I begged to go with Grimmel, and he accepted, bringing me into his ranks. I was a scout for a long time, hell-bent on finding news on the beasts before anyone else. Then I graduated to be part of his trading crews. I eventually rose up through the ranks to be part of his hunting teams. He mostly worked on his own, but with all his Deathgrippers and equipment, he needed people to help tend to everything.

"Over time, sightings became fewer and less reliable. People would jump at a shadow on the mountain and scream 'Night Furies!'. I began to worry that Grimmel would thin out his teams, and me with them, but he tended to all of us, wasting resources into keeping all of his people fed and housed. He would encourage us that this was the thrill of the hunt, that our prey had gone into hiding, and that all we had to do was smoke 'em out.

"I was there when we finally found more Furies outside the southern mountains. We downed one on the outskirts of a village, after it had set nearly all their crop fields aflame trying to get away."

"Were they…" Toothless breathed. He couldn't finish the thought.

Eret glanced at my stricken brother, the shining light in his eyes dimmed. "There was a dragoness there with a yearling. The yearling got away, but the dragoness perished. We were north enough then that we had heard about Drago by then...and he had heard of us. After that hunt, he sought out and tried to recruit Grimmel, but the man wouldn't budge. He'd do nothing with a slaver, he said. He hates slavers. Sent his Deathgrippers on 'em at every chance he got, but only after he got what he wanted from 'em. Drago persisted and threatened us, and at the time, his forces were far larger than ours. Grimmel decided to distract him. He buttered him right up with flattery, gifts, even a Night Fury pelt, and a hint that he heard about more Furies to the east."

His shoulders sunk. "Drago saw some use in hunters who could take down a Night Fury. Before he went on his wild goose chase, he offered me a ship of my own to command, with my very own crew and all. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. Or so I thought, at least. So that's...how I ended up with the likes of him."

I barely heard the conclusion to his story. "It is fine," I murmured, leaning against Toothless, who seemed only able to stand with my weight to support him. "It is fine...it is fine…"

Toothless' eyes were far away. "So...this human…"

A light weight pressed on my shoulder-Dad. He put his other hand on Toothless' head. "We can always stay here," he told us. "If this is too much…"

"Stay?" Eret repeated. "You don't mean you still mean to leave after hearin' all that?!"

"We do."

Toothless' snarl mangled his voice, his overtone so choked with hurt and fear that even I struggled to understand him. Anatoli and the Four-Wing shied away.

"We will go. We will find the others who are left and keep them safe." His eyes burned. He lifted his head and opened his wings to the horizon, as if issuing a challenge for all the world to hear. "And if that creature crosses our path...I will bring the power of the gods Themselves upon him to avenge my mother."

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

nameless

As expected, Killed the Sea Serpent stepped to my side the next morning during responsibility assignments. "Teacher!"

I jolted upright and swiveled towards her, mouth partly open in shock. No matter how hard I tried, I was unable to keep a joyful bounce out of my feet.

It wasn't caretaking—but it was the next closest thing!

She chuckled upon seeing my obvious excitement. "I had a feeling you'd like this."

Much fewer of our flockmates joined us on this less-exciting responsibility, which was completely okay. The nameless male stayed, plodding over with a lot of huffing and sighing.

"Teaching?" he moaned. "What do you even do?"

"If you don't even know that, then it's proof you're well overdue," Killed the Sea Serpent admonished. "All nameless dragons should try out each responsibility, even if they don't like it."

"I agree," another dragon piped up, joining our ranks. Fought the Leader pressed her side against mine for a brief moment.

I tried to force myself not to flinch away, my body bracing for a spine-sting from her tailfins, but it was hard. My whole body went stiff in a tight jolt, like I'd stepped on something sharp and unexpected.

Fought the Leader's teal eyes were soft and gentle. She took a step away from me and I relaxed. "I'm sure you'll find it very rewarding," she said as if nothing had happened.

A cautious smile crept across my muzzle. "I think I will be good at it," I said softly.

When everyone was done picking responsibilities, our group was very small: Killed the Sea Serpent, Fought the Leader, Saved the Swimlings, the nameless male, and myself. I tried to subtly creep away from Saved the Swimlings, keeping closer to the two female named dragons in our group. He seemed determined to act as if nothing had happened only a few days ago between the two of us, down in the Under.

For some reason, that bothered me. It wasn't so much that he had hurt me Under—that, I was well used to— but that he didn't even acknowledge it. Like it was the most casual thing.

I shook the feeling off. I had learned long ago to accept what I couldn't control; to become angry would only bring trouble back to myself.

Killed the Sea Serpent called out and led us away. We took flight and began a slow descent through the Shell. Brilliant pillars of stone and crystal pierced into the heavens. All of them were covered in trees, foliage, flowers, and vines. Glowing mushrooms grew as well, although they were much more numerous in the lower levels of the Shell, where it became cool and dark, where night-time bugs were awake all of the time. I wrinkled my nose once I caught the tell-tale sting-smell of mushrooms.

We swerved around a stone pillar adorned with sheets of blossoming vines. The sun dipped away in its shadow, and by the time we had spiraled back around, we were so deep in the Shell that it did not come back. The sounds around us became close and thick , an eerie quiet that made anything I could hear seem disproportionately loud. Glowing mushrooms and crystals of all colors speckled the deep blue-green ferns and shrubbery. Fire-bugs flickered in and out of sight.

Below, the sting-smell was overpowering. I gagged. My nose and lungs recoiled, my nose itched, and I began to sneeze in fits. It burned, lighting an ache in my chest that zipped down my spine and limbs like lightning.

Thankfully, the flightlings were old enough that they weren't nestled on the very bottom of the Shell. We found them on a cliff that jutted out several wingbeats above the thick foliage below. A cave entrance yawned wide in the stone, burrowing deep into the rock. Crystal veins wove in streams through its walls, tracing a path deep into the tunnelwork.

Inside were the four flightlings. They perked up at our approach and squawked happily, tumbling over each other and out towards the cliff to greet us. Despite the pain, I couldn't help but smile and pick up my pace.

I was the first to land. The others dropped after me.

All of the flightlings ran to me. I sniffed each of them, purring as I took in the familiar scents. I had been caretaker to all of them many times.

"It's you! It's you!" they marveled, weaving between my legs and climbing over me. They were still very small, but so was I—which meant that they were quite heavy for me when they all got on at once.

My headache worsened, as did the sharp-fire stings running through my body.

"Oh!" I gasped, holding out my wings and planting my feet to try and hold them up. Voice tight and strained, I wheezed, "You…remember me?"

"You told the best stories!" the male with rain-scent said. He jumped off of my head, landing in front of me, and lifted up on his hind legs to get a little closer. "Will you tell us another?"

"She can," Fought the Leader laughed, stepping up to my side and nosing the flightlings off of my now-aching back. "But only after we get up to that pillar."

She pointed with her nose upwards. Though I wasn't sure where exactly she was indicating, I had a feeling it was only a few wingbeats above…for us. For the flightlings, it was their most dangerous trip yet. Judging by their gasps and whimpers, they knew it, too.

"Let's make it a game," I said, crouching down to their eye level. "Whoever gets there first wins!"

"And no cheating!" Killed the Sea Serpent said with an overdramatic, stern tone. "No climbing up those vines—you must fly the whole way!"

The flightlings still seemed apprehensive. I exchanged a look with the others.

"Whoever gets there first gets their own fish!" the nameless male said.

That sent them scrambling. Shouting and squealing, they began to leap unsuccessfully into the air, wings flapping in hummingbird-blurs and tails flailing.

"Well," Saved the Swimlings huffed. "I hope you have a whole fish for them, because I certainly don't."

"Um…can I go catch one?" the nameless male asked.

"No," Killed the Sea Serpent said. "You came here to teach, not hunt. Saved the Swimlings, you can go and catch us all some food."

He let out a sigh, making his discontentment clear. Then, with a dainty snort, he crouched and flew up into the green above. The flightlings all stopped their bickering to watch him, awed.

"Don't you want to be like him?" I cooed to the flightlings. When they all nodded exuberantly, I said, "Well, then you need to learn to fly up there!"

Since there were four adults and four flightlings, all of us paired off with each other. The flightlings all made a fuss over who got to work with me, much to my shock. I stared down at all four of their pleading faces, eyes wide and ears pinned, until Killed the Sea Serpent assigned them each to someone. Shooting her a grateful glance, I waved over my flightling—the little female who smelled of fern and salt—and took her a small distance away.

I specifically led her towards a section of the cliff where I could not see or smell mushrooms nearby.

"I'm glad you chose me!" she crowed, prancing along at my side with her head lifted and chubby tail sticking straight up.

"I didn't choose anyone," I hummed, keeping my steps slow and careful so that I wouldn't step on her. Sitting down near the edge of the cliff, I pawed at my head for a moment, trying to rub my headache-turning-migraine away. It didn't work. I sighed, tried to shake off the discomfort, and leaned down so that I could see her better. "Now, let's start with what you know!"

She leapt into disorganization, flapping her wings with them still half-shut, opening and closing her tailfins at random intervals, and waving her tail as if she were swimming. She strained her neck upwards and leaped several times into the air, but never managed to get any lift.

"…w-well," I began, struggling keep from bursting out into baffled laughter, "…let's…start with your wings, okay?"

I stretched my own out and showed her how to flap them properly. "All stretched out like this, see?" I murmured. "You see how the top of your wing curves, and the bottom is flat?"

"Oh, wow!" she gasped, gaping at her wings as if they had just sprouted.

"That's what helps make our species so good at flying," I explained. "When you jump into the air, the wind lifts you up. That's why dragons are part of all the elements, including the sky. We don't force our way into it; we ask it to hold us when we jump, and it carries us." I nosed her wings half-closed like she had arranged them before. "See how they can't let the air help anymore?"

She giggled with delight, stretching her wings out as I'd instructed and flapping them wildly.

"Together!" I chuckled. "Flap them together!"

"Oh!" the flightling said. She stopped, squinted with concentration, and began to slowly flap her wings together. With each stroke she grew more confident, straining them faster and faster, until…

"I'm flying! I'm flying!" she squealed as her paws lifted just off the ground. I flinched a little as her high-pitched shriek sent a wave of pain pulsing through my head. "I'm gonna get the—oof!"

She sat up, stared over her shoulders at her wings, and then looked at me with intense confusion.

"And now we can talk about your tail," I laughed, shaking my head to try to rid the pain. "Starting with: don't let it drag on the ground when you're trying to fly."

I taught her about tail placement, which she struggled with quite a bit; apparently, nobody had ever told her that she needed to hold it out, so her muscles were weak and easily fatigued. Luckily, once I explained to her how her tailfins worked like her wings—and helped lift her tail for her—she had much more luck.

It was impossible to tell time's passing this deep into the Shell. It must have been an hour, though, by the time that my little flightling was able to lift herself off the ground and tip herself forward into a clumsy glide.

I sent her towards the stony wall next to the cave, trotting along her side as she laughed and shrieked with delight. She learned very quickly that by flapping her wings, she could maintain her altitude, keeping herself aloft.

She did not know, however, how else to move. So when she got too close to the stone wall, I shifted into a quick sprint ahead of her, reared up, and caught her in my front paws before she could crash.

"You did it!" I said, opening my paws and letting her drop.

"Again! Again!" she shouted, hopping in place and flapping her wings. She swiveled and raced back to where she'd started and, without waiting, leaped up towards me and began a glide-turned-flight.

I grinned, sight-sounding so I knew exactly where she was and resting upright on my haunches. She flew towards me much faster than before, and when I caught her, she let out another delighted shriek.

I flinched for real this time. Vibrant spots were starting to bloom in my vision.

Once I let go of her, the flightling crouched submissively. "Are you okay?" she whimpered. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" I gasped, shaking my head. "No, I just have a little headache. I'm sorry to worry you." I leaned down and gave her a comforting lick on the forehead. "Now, let's focus on getting you up to that pillar. It's straight ahead, so you won't need to turn, but you do need to learn how to fly higher. So that means you need to know how to climb in the air."

She bounced several times and scampered back to our starting point. My smile was thin now, but still real. As I walked back, I glanced over at the others and sight-sounded.

Killed the Sea Serpent was sitting next to her flightling, wings folded and tail wrapped neatly around her paws. She spoke in blunt orders: keep your wings together. Stop swinging your tail. You can do it, just try to focus.

Fought the Leader had taken on a teaching style similar to my own, showing her flightling the motions and then asking him to copy her. He was still trying to get off the ground.

The nameless male was…well…

…doing…his best?

"Just a moment," I told mine before padding over to him. Up close, I could see that the flightling had his head tilted all the way to the side in sheer confusion. The nameless male looked just as puzzled. He wasn't facing towards me, so didn't notice my approach.

"So, you see," he said to his flightling. "You just have to…you know. Flap your wings. Can't you try that?"

The poor flightling tried to, just as uncoordinated as mine had been. When nothing happened after several moments of struggling and a long, perplexed silence from the nameless male, he plopped to the ground, panting. His eyes settled on mine and lit with hope.

The nameless male turned, saw me, and jumped. "Woah!" he squeaked. Then, with a sheepish laugh, he said, "I don't think I'm very good at this."

"You have to show him," I murmured, flicking my eyes between his own and my paws. "Like this." I leaned down to the flightling's eye level and went through my explanation again. Halfway through, the female I was teaching stomped over and pushed at my legs.

"I want to be the first one up there!" she whined. She leered at her clutchmate, held onto my leg possessively, and said, "She's mine! Don't steal her!"

I reared my head back. Even through the ache deep in my bones, my whole body seemed lighter. Weightless. It felt like…

Longing tore through my heart once again. It was the same security as when I was in Killed the Sea Serpent's nest. The same warmth as when I had shared the bird I hunted with the nameless male and our leader. The same joy as when I had hunted underwater with my flockmates, all of us perfectly aligned with one another. It was what it felt like to be part of the flock.

It was an illusion of safety, a danger I always had to remind myself was there. Soon, they would graduate into young adults and learn what I was. Then these happy, carefree times with them would be gone forever. The rejection would only sting all the more, since I would have spent more time with them, having these moments of bonding with them.

"Hey, don't fight, now!" the nameless male teased the bickering flightlings. "Look how upset you're making her!"

Brought out of my stupor, I forced my expression into something that was hopefully happy. "No, no—I'm sorry, it's just a migraine. You didn't upset me."

They were too young to know when they were lied to, so both of them nodded with visible relief.

I finished showing the flightling how to lift off—and the nameless male how to teach. Then, much to my flightling's dismay, I invited them to work with us so that both flightlings could learn how to ascend at the same time.

At the suggestion, the nameless male nearly collapsed in relief. "Thank the Prebirth! I was so worried you would leave!"

With a thin smile, I nodded. "Can you show them the movements this time, please?"

"Of course!" he said…and immediately took off, disappearing into the dense green.

The flightlings and I stared after him, blinking.

"…well," I eventually said, turning to the stunned flightlings. "The important thing to notice was how he moved his wings. Did you see how he reached them forward to pull the air down? Have you tried moving your wing joints yet?"

So, while the nameless male took his time realizing he wasn't helping much anymore, I bent over and showed the flightlings that no, your wings are not stiff planes that can only move in one direction, and yes, isn't that amazing that each wing spine can move on its own? Soon they were bending each wing spine individually, contorting the membranes into tangled-looking folds.

"Think of it like your claws," I instructed them. I sniffed around, found a sweet-smelling flower among the sting-smell of mushrooms, and said, "Like this. Look at how I reach out with my claws…" I did just so, wrapping my claws around the puffy white flower just enough to pull it off its stem. "…and grab it." Turning to them, I sat and held the flower out for them to observe. They both rushed forward and sniffed it as if it was completely new. "Do that with the air in your wings. Reach forward, grab the air, and pull it down. If you make sure you keep your tails straight and your tailfins open, you'll be able to go up!"

Of course, without moving their tailfins, it would be a very slow, low-angled, clumsy climb. But that was a lesson for another day.

By that point, the nameless male had swept back over to us. He landed, realized that I had needed to move on, and ducked his head bashfully. "Oh—sorry about that," he said with a small, nervous laugh.

Despite the pain in my body and my thoughts warring with one another, I couldn't help but smile. "Maybe next time, you can make sure your flightlings are able to see you?" I suggested.

"Heh…yeah," he said. Then he straightened up. "Well, here! How about we try to get up to the pillar now?"

"Oh, I don't think—" I began.

"Yes! Yes!" the flightlings cried, hopping in the air in excitement.

My head pounded. I looked over to where I knew the pillar was, but couldn't even see it. What I did know from my sight-sounding, however, was that the plain we were on had a very steep drop. There was nothing below to cushion a fall.

"Alright!" the nameless male cheered. He crouched on the ground, wiggling his rum and opening his wings and tailfins. "Ready?"

The flightlings cheered. I grimaced, squeezing my eyes shut.

"No!" I commanded, louder than I had ever spoken before.

My eyes widened. I flinched low to the ground as if I could avoid my own harsh tone. The nameless male lurched in place, spinning to face me. The flightlings moaned in dismay.

"I…I'm—sorry," I stammered, my heart thundering in my chest. I grimaced and clenched my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable scolding, the white-hot tearing of claws against my scales.

Nobody said anything. There were no harsh shoves, snapping teeth, or spine-stings.

I squinted one eye open. Then the other.

They weren't…angry?

All of them crouched with lowered heads, ears pinned, eyes averted. It was a posture I had traced along every line of body, so much so that even the act of standing at my full height felt like an unjust rebellion.

To see them submitting to me was…was…wrong.

I forced breath back into my lungs and sat up. "I'm sorry," I repeated, my mouth dry. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt. I-I only want you two to practice more. If something goes wrong and you fall…"

The flightlings were close enough that I could see their imaginations fill in what I had left out. Both of them shuddered, eyes flicking towards each other.

"Yeah, that's probably a much better idea," the nameless male sighed with obvious disappointment. He shook himself off and lifted his head, taking in our environment. "There's a small ledge up the cliff. See there?"

I faced where he pointed with his nose and sight-sounded. There was an outcropping just above the cave's mouth. Even I couldn't stand on it, but the flightlings no doubt could. I considered it for a moment and nodded. "One of us can hover next to it, and the other can stand below."

So we had a plan. The nameless male chose to hover, leaving me with the duty of sight-sounding and catching falling flightlings.

Which, as it turned out, happened often.

After catching my flightling for the third time, I couldn't help but glance fearfully out towards the pillar. The flightlings could barely maintain a stable glide; when they attempted to keep their tailfins aligned while pushing upwards, they often tilted them just so and spiraled out of control. Not to mention if their tails weren't perfectly straight or drooped from muscle aches, they would simply lose the ability to stay in the air and plummet.

What if, first ones forbid, we had let them try to go for the cliff?

Shuddering at the thought, I leaned down to let my flightling off of my aching shoulders. "So," I said, "what do you think went wrong?"

She hung her head with disappointment. "I don't know…my tailfins?"

I had been sight-sounding at her so rapidly that I had perceived just the slightest tilting of her base-fins compared to her tailtip-fins. In doing so, the air moving beneath her clashed, and she was so small that it had been enough to knock her over. I told her so.

She listened with her ears sticking straight up, green eyes intense as she focused. "Okay!" she said. "I think I'll get it next time!"

"First, it's your clutchmate's turn," I reminded her. She threw her head back and groaned. With a small laugh, I nudged her rump forward. "Come on! Why don't you explain to him what went wrong, so he doesn't make the same mistake?"

She stomped over to the male flightling. "Alright, listen closely, because I'm only going to say this once!" she declared in her tiny voice.

The nameless male sidled up to me as she dove into an overdramatic retelling of what had just happened. "I think you should keep that one," he snickered.

"Oh, she's just excited," I whispered back. Another zing of pain went through my body from head to tailtip. I rubbed at my head with a paw, trying to soothe the tension there.

"Well, anyways, I wanted to say thank you," he said.

I stopped, paw still lifted, eyes wide and ears sticking up.

He looked away shyly. "If we had done as I said, then they could have gotten hurt…and in front of Killed the Sea Serpent, of all dragons!"

I glanced over to the dragon in question and sight-sounded. She was sitting off to the side and watching everyone. Saved the Swimlings had returned at some point, smelling of sea-salt and ocean winds, and had taken over for her. Fought the Leader was still working alone with her flightling, who seemed to be struggling to glide.

"I think she's watching us," the nameless male whispered much too loudly.

"Shh!" I hissed, turning away from her watchful posture.

"Is everything going alright, everyone?" Killed the Sea Serpent shouted. I could hear just the slightest hint of a smile in her voice.

"Yes!" the nameless male and I called at once. We turned away secretively, the both of us shaking with barely-held-back giggles.

"Sorry," he snickered. "I'll try not to get us in trouble, again."

I frowned, straightening my posture. "It wasn't your fault, though."

He set me with a flat look. "You know, if you keep this up, you're going to be named something like Took All the Blame."

I grimaced. That was a very bad name. But…

Looking down at my paws, I murmured, "I like you. But it's dangerous to be around me. That's why I want you to stay away."

Whatever he wanted to say in response, he never had a chance. The flightlings, too impatient to wait for us to signal to go, both decided to jump towards the ledge.

At the same time.

"Flightlings!" I gasped, leaping to my feet. The nameless male reacted much the same, tumbling into flight after them.

Keeping pace beneath them, I sight-sounded in a mad ferver, ears straining to listen to the wind under their wings and the tell-tale rustling of wings blown astray. Straining my useless eyes on the silver-blue smudges above, my whole world came into pinpoint focus on the two young dragons who I had assumed care of—and then ignored.

I ran. They flew.

Then, darkness.

I skidded to a halt, blinking and sight-sounding in confusion. My heart thudded in my chest, sending waves of sharp, shooting pain through my body with each frantic beat.

A true smile crossed my lips. I bounded out of the cave, skidded around, and sight-sounded at the ledge.

"Look! We made it! We made it!" my little flightling cried. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"You did!" I laughed in joy and relief as all of the tension left my body. "You flew all on your own!"

The flightlings leapt off of the ledge, gliding down towards me. They both thumped gracelessly to the ground and scampered about my feet.

"Well done, both of you!" I congratulated them. Another thud to my right announced the nameless male's arrival. "And thank you, for flying after them," I said as he walked over.

He rolled his amber eyes with a grin. "Yeah, that was a lot of work." His expression turned impish. "Do you think they're ready for the pillar?"

I paused. If I had my way, I'd make them practice here until tomorrow. Killed the Sea Serpent had instructed them to fly to the pillar, though.

"With us below them, yes," I said.

The flightlings erupted into cheers. Those being tended to by the other adults also began shouting, but in dismay. My headache panged, sending spots of darkness across my vision.

"Alright, alright!" I said. "Let's line up. You two in front, and us two in the back—yes, just like that. Are you ready?"

"Yes!" both flightlings cried, crouching and wiggling.

"And what do you need to remember?" I asked them.

Both of them shouted two completely different things—but I did hear the words 'tail', 'tailfins', and also 'flower', so I assumed that was good.

"Alright," I said, glancing at the nameless male, who looked just as excited as them. "Let's go!"

The flightlings tore ahead, wings open and flapping, and leapt off of the safety of the cliff and towards the pillar. The nameless male and I followed right at their tails. As I reached the cliff, I allowed myself to slip downwards and drop, waiting to snap open my wings until I heard the hummingbird-rapid wingbeats of the flightlings above me. A bustle of air filling wings to my left signaled the nameless male had done the same.

Trusting the nameless male to warn me if I was about to fly into something, I lifted my head to the little blue-gray smudges amongst the greens, blues, and glowing colors of the lower Shell and began sight-sounding. The nameless male ducked just ahead of me, which allowed me to follow him more from the air currents swirling from his wings than just the sound of his passage. I shot a grateful look in his direction before returning my attention to the flightlings.

Their ascent was wobbly and uncertain. They both still struggled to maintain a proper tailfin posture, causing them to dip and swerve ever-so-slightly. I remembered struggling with the same problem as a flightling, always over-correcting and sending myself spiraling in my desperate attempts to right myself. My chest tightened, but I didn't intervene just yet.

One of the flightlings dipped suddenly to the left and flapped their wings in a wild blur to stay upright. Fear-scent traced his path. I swooped beneath him just as he let out a shriek that pierced through my skull. By the grace of the first ones, he managed to right himself.

"Don't worry!" the nameless male encouraged him. "We'll catch you if you fall!"

"Good correction!" I said between sight-sounds. The flightling hurried ahead, more confident now, and I returned to my spot just behind the nameless male.

"We're almost there!" my flightling shouted in delight. "I can almost see the top!"

The sheer joy in her voice brought a soft smile to my lips. "Go on, then!" I said. "But be careful!"

The flightlings began flapping even faster, speeding up their ponderous ascent only a little. They were both laughing now, fear of falling forgotten, each one betting the other who would get there first. The nameless male laughed along with them. I continued my breakneck-fast sight-sounds; I would not let my guard down until both of them were safely landed.

I could make out the blurry shape of the pillar now; it was dappled with vibrant colors. The flightlings lifted up, up, up…!

They crested the pillar, tucked their wings in, and thumped to the surface. The nameless male crowed with delight, flinging himself upwards just in time to avoid a collision himself.

"Well done!" I cried, tilting my wings and shooting above the pillar. "Very well done!" With a brief bout of sight-sounds, I found a spot to land. "Both of you did—"

The moment my paws made contact with the ground, mushroom spores exploded upwards, enveloping me in a vibrant mist.

Pain. Sting-smell. Fire. Confusion.

My migraine erupted beneath my eyes, my skull, my ears like it was going to burst out of me. I choked as my lungs collapsed, my heart exploded, my blood roiled. The world dissolved. I couldn't sight-sound in the nothingness. I couldn't breathe!

Everything was gone, everything but the endless, gnawing pain, like something had crawled inside me and begun a feeding-frenzy, gorging on my heart, my blood, my bones!

My limbs contorted as the thing wrenched through my every vessel and muscle, leaving a horrible nothingness in its wake, like I had been lifted from my body and expulsed into this formless torture. It wasn't burning me—it was consuming me, like an ember creeping along the edge of a leaf, leaving nothing behind in its slow, relentless hunger.

And through it all, through this twisted death, because surely I was dying, surely something had come upon me to swallow my very essence, like the curse I was that could never be suffered to live and thrive in this Shell where I had never belonged, confusion and grief were all that accompanied me.

Why?!

I'm sorry! I tried to beg for my life. I don't know what I did! I'm sorry!

I must have screamed.

Then, nothing.

o.O.o

…voices…

Muffled, echoing, angry. Fear-scent, chalky smoke, the acrid zing of unlit gas. Confusion. All so far away. As if…

Was I Under?

Dread came upon me at the thought—unexpected, unwelcome, impossible.

And I knew, in that in-between place, when my last refuge faded from my grasp, that something terrible had changed, and nothing would be the same ever again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Hiccup

The next morning, the four of us stepped outside the house to find that practically our entire nest had gathered to see us off. Some perched on roosts, rooftops, and sturdy pines. Others lounged on the soft, long grass that was starting to splinter and fall away at this time of the year. More still hovered or circled overhead.

The dragons weren't our only nestmates waiting outside. Astrid, Fishlegs, and the twins rested among their dragon companions. Even Gobber had made his way up to our house, taking a break from his busy work in the smithy.

An ache settled in my chest as I scoured the rest of the mostly-dragon crowd, looking for Snotlout.

"Well, there ya are!" Gobber called, sauntering over. "Though I never woulda known you were here," he added dryly, poking my chest with his hook.

I grimaced. "Sorry," I said. "All of this has happened so fast."

Gobber chuckled, coming up behind me. "Just wait 'till yer a week into flying over nothin' but ocean and abandoned islands, and I doubt you'll be saying that." He put a warm hand on my shoulder. "Keep yer head on yer shoulders out there, Hiccup. And make sure ya bring a Night Fury or two back to Berk!"

"We'll try," I said, my heart fluttering at the thought.

"We'll be safe, if nothing else," Dad added. "Gobber, would you make sure to watch out for Astrid, if she needs any help?"

"Astrid? Needing help?" Gobber said, quirking a brow and looking over at her. "Well, I suppose there's still time for Hel to freeze over. Speaking of which…" He squinted down towards Berk and let out a groan. "Agh, I can even see that Grumpy's let the forge die! I best be off then." He turned back to us and said, "Stay. Safe," punctuating each word with a light jab from his hook.

"We will, Gobber," I groaned, looking to Dad and Toothless for support.

Dad merely chuckled. Toothless had his head in the cloudsーliterally. From the moment we'd stepped outside, all he'd done was stare out at the sky, his eyes filled with wonder and longing.

"We certainly will!" Haugaeldr chimed in, squeezing between us and jumping out into the fresh day. "We must be off soon! We've got so much to work on, and we're already behind schedule!"

"Alrightーwell, I hate long goodbyes. Keep in touch with Terror mail, if ya can!" Gobber turned and began to hobble off.

"Keep Berk together for us!" Dad called.

Toothless jerked, as if suddenly aware that the world existed outside of his thoughts. "What are we waiting for?" he asked, shaking some warmth in his muscles. He turned to us and gestured with his head towards a pile of our supplies next to the door. "Come on, put the things on us!"

As if to spite him, that was the moment that everyone else, dragon and human, ran over. The dragons descended on Toothless, wishing us well and offering "advice" on how to fly long distances. He tried to nod politely and look engaged, but his tail lashed with anxiety and he couldn't stop from glancing out to the horizon every few seconds.

"Ready to go, isn't he?" Astrid asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Especially with all this news of Grimmel."

"Are you sure you don't need help?" Fishlegs begged. "I'd love to record this for our archives…"

"Then who would help with the trade, mail, and record-keeping?" Astrid lightly admonished. She turned to me, grinned, and gave me a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Don't make too many friends without us."

"Yeah!" Tuffnut said. "Too bad we're going to make even more friends with the sea dragons!"

"Don't be too jealous of how important our job is," Ruffnut said, examining her fingernails and slouching.

Astrid nodded gravely. "Yes. It's very important." She looked at Fishlegs and me and widened her eyes slightly.

"So important! So important," Fishlegs stammered.

"Right!" I agreed. "Uh, good luck, you two."

"Hah! Who needs luck, when you've got the Tuff!" Tuffnut shouted.

"Gods!" Ruffnut groaned. "So embarrassing. Can't believe I have to put up with this…" Without so much as a glance our way, she spun on her heel and walked away.

"What?!" Tuffnut exclaimed, scrambling after his twin. "That was great! I've been working on it all morning."

I couldn't help a small smile. "I'll miss you guys," I told Fishlegs and Astrid. I couldn't help but flick my eyes around one last time. My face fell.

Astrid's good-humored grin faded. Of course, we'd told her about what had happened. Especially since Snotlout had been avoiding us ever since our conversation. "He'll come around. This is just him pouting about not getting what he wants. You don't need to worry." A little more wryly, she added, "If that's even possible for you."

"Besides," Fishlegs said, "What were you saying about a new job for him? He'll probably forget he was even mad."

I lifted my brows. "What is it?"

"I'm still working on it," she sighed. "It's hard to make it not look like a pity-gift."

I grimaced. "Yeah. I just wish…" I trailed off. No point in going on, repeating myself over and over, as if that would change things.

Astrid nodded sympathetically. Fishlegs, however, glanced over my shoulder.

"Well, wish no longer," he said, pointing behind me.

A rustle of wings, a red blur, and Hookfang landed very clumsily on our roof with a thump!"

Weーmade itーKings!" he gasped, taking huge, deep breaths between every word. "I hadーto drag himーthe whole wayーhere!" With that, he swiveled on his hind legs, and I saw the reason his landing had been precarious. His tail was coiled tight like a constrictor around none other than Snotlout.

He swept his lump-of-a-tail over the edge of the roof and deposited Snotlout on the ground in a heap. Then he lifted his head with a proud, satisfied grin. Snotlout, on the other hand, eased up to his feet, scowling and swiping the dirt off of his clothes.

"Traitor," he muttered to his dragon. He looked over at Astrid, Fishlegs, and me. "What?" he barked.

"We're about to head off," I said, trying to keep my voice light.

He didn't say anything, leering off to the side.

I glanced at Astrid, who had narrowed her eyes at him. I recognized that determined look; if I didn't say something, then she would.

The problem was, Astrid was just about as blunt as Toothless.

"Snotloutー" I began.

Snotlout huffed, cutting me off. He crossed his arms, glowering at his feet. His shoulders hunched up. After a solid second of grinding his teeth, he sighed again, this time with resignation, and faced me.

"Hiccup, what I said to you was…totally un-cool," Snotlout said. He gave me a "friendly" punch on the shoulder, which actually hurt. "Don't get yourself captured again. I can't always come flying to your rescue, after all."

Well, as far as apologies from Snotlout went, I guess that was as good as it got. "I'll try not to," I groaned, wincing and rubbing my sore arm. Honestly, why did everyone always aim for the same spot?

"Cool," Snotlout said.

We all stood there. Awkwardly.

"Well," Snotlout finally said. "I guess I'll go…hang around somewhere…" The latter half came out as a mumble. He turned away, his scowl returning.

"You don't want to see them off?" Astrid asked. Although it was more of an accusation.

Snotlout stiffened and refused to meet her eye. "Well, I guess I can, since there's nothing for me to do." He looked up and met my eyes. "What are you gonna do if you find those Night Furies? Is this…" he paused, and that lost hurt filled the undercurrent of his voice again. "…is this the last time I'm gonna see you like…like this?" He gestured at all of me.

I reared my head back. The ball of light at my forehead, the center of my magic, suddenly became impossible to ignore. It was like a heart-fire inside of me, keeping me warm always.

"I…uh, haven't even thought of that," I said. "Right now, we just want to find them."

"But if you do?" Snotlout pressed. "Is that the end of it, then?"

My heart hammered in my chest and a zing went down my spine, though I wasn't quite sure why. "I…don't know," I stammered. "I also need to finish the Book on Dragonese."

"And after that?"

"Snotlout," Astrid interjected. "Is this really any of your business?"

His brows lowered. He looked at his feet. "I guess not," he said. He snuck a look at me. "Be safe, Hiccup."

"I will," I said, my mind whirling. Where had all of this come from?

More than thatーwhy hadn't I been thinking about it, too?

Snotlout tried a lazy smile, but it was so strained it almost looked like some attempt at a snarl. He turned away and ducked into the crowd. We watched him go.

"…yikes," Fishlegs eventually hissed.

Astrid glared and gave him a harsh shove. Then she turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't let him bother you. Seriously, Hiccup," she added when I rolled my eyes. "You've worked too hard and too long for anyone to make you feel guilty."

"I know," I grumbled. "I don't feel guilty."

"Your face says otherwise," Astrid said.

I looked back in the direction my cousin had gone. "He's never been…enthusiastic about it," I admitted. "It's something I accepted a long time ago. It'll be fine." I shrugged, as if the conversation was a bunch of snow I could just shove off. As if that ever worked out.

Fishlegs and Astrid shared a look, no doubt thinking the same thing.

"Hiccup!"

I swiveled around. Dad was standing next to Haugaeldr and Toothless, who both had their saddlebags geared up and secured. Toothless bounced on his feet anxiously, wings fluttering. Haugaeldr fiddled with my sandbox, making sure it was placed in the most comfortable position.

Toothless met my eyes. Our link snapped into place.

Come on hurry up hurry up hurry up let's go let's go you said goodbye to them yesterday honestly how much longer do you need?

In spite of it all, the explosion of excited urgency bowled me over and brought a smile to my lips. With my brother so invigorated with the prospects of finding others just over the horizon, it was hard to feel weighed down. More than that, I didn't want to. There was no benefit in sinking into it.

Even so, I let my thoughts spin over the conversation that he had just missed. Toothless considered it, grumbling about stupid human politcs and some very choice words about Snotlout's behavior. He supposed, as I did, that the "apology" Snotlout gave was the best case scenario, though he would have liked much more sincerity. He balked, horrified, at the thought of me being guilty about returning to my dragon form, but relaxed once I reassured him no, never, I would never feel guilty or have reservations about that.

Are you sure it's okay? he asked.

But beneath it all, the constant rush of hurry up we need to leave! still sang from him, and I just couldn't not be excited, too.

All of this happened within momentsーa few beats of our hearts, aligned together.

"It is fine," I whispered to the both of us, as I often did. I turned to Astrid and Fishlegs, allowing the link to dissolve. "Well, thanks for coming to see us off."

Astrid beamed. "Find those Night Furies!"

"And take notes!" Fishlegs said. "Please, take notes."

"We will," I laughed. I ran towards my family with a final wave to them. "See you later!"

Toothless all but grabbed me by the scruff and pulled me onto his shoulders when I reached his side. Dad climbed onto Haugaeldr, who took his weight with surprising ease despite his lithe, snakelike frame.

"Readyーwoah!"

Toothless sprung into the air and charged into a straight climb. It was all I could do just to hang on, flattening against him, hugging my arms around his neck and digging my feet into the space just between his foreleg and chest that was easiest to grip.

"Wait!" Haugaeldr squawked, tumbling after us at a much more laden pace. "I'm no Shadow-Blender; slow down!"

Toothless leveled out once Berk was nearly a dot on the ocean below, the air chilly even in the morning sun.

"I still can't believe it," he said, glimmering eyes set on the horizon. "Other Shadow-Blenders…"

I purred, pressing against him. "And hopefully, we'll find them."

Toothless snorted. "We will!" he said like it was the most obvious thing. He opened his wings to the wind, catching them and adding their strength to his. "Come on!" he shouted over his shoulder.

And so we were swept away, our hearts hammering in time with each beat of our wings, racing to find the final members of our kind lost to the dangerous lands of the south.

o.O.o

Astrid

The moment Hiccup, Toothless, Haugaeldr, and the Chief were out of sight, it hit meーreally hit me.

I…was acting Chief.

A surge of pride and fear shot through me. I took a deep breath, patted Stormfly, and said, "Alrightーwe've still got plenty of work to do. I'll see you later, Fishlegs."

Fishlegs grabbed my shoulder. "Wait." He bit his lip, then asked, "You said you have something planned for Snotlout?"

"Yes," I said. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and although the way he's going at it is driving me insane, he does have a point."

Fishlegs nodded. "I was gonna say something similar. He's a real ass sometimes, but…" he shrugged. "I think he does have some right to be upset about being passed over. He is the next in line, and the Chief picking you instead is rather unprecedented."

I grimaced. "It's not just that." Giving him a friendly punch to the shoulder, I said, "But thanks for keeping me accountable. Keep doing that."

"Right, acting Chief!" Fishlegs said with a grin and mock salute. Meatlug, who had lumbered back over to his side, repeated the gesture with a wing and a coy smile.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed Stormfly's saddle, and swung up onto it. The morning sky was clear and crisp today, not a cloud to be seen within the sapphire expanse. It was a perfect day for flying, especially with the winter ready to set in any week now.

Which meant that I had a lot of work to do.

"See you later!" I said. "C'mon, Stormfly!"

She gave a happy squawk and launched into the air, twirling just for the fun of it. I took it in stride, creating a mental tally of all the tasks that needed to be done. First and foremost…the giant Bewilderbeast having a splash in our bay.

The problem about hosting Tempy was that even though he had his own bay, he didn't like to stay in it. He wanted to crawl up onto the island so he could play with the other dragons. He wanted to swim around Berk's perimeter, scaring all the fish away for miles and sending enormous waves crashing ashore. He wanted to be a normal young dragon, regardless of his strength and size.

When we got to the bay, he was huffing and sighing, stomping his webbed paws and sending waves racing up the cliffs and up into the sky. A fine spray even managed to reach me, though Stormfly flew at his eye level. Eret and Anatoli were tying down their goods to some of his spines, and the Stormcutter was lounging on Tempy's tusk, long tail swaying with his movements.

Stormfly shouted a greeting before I could even raise my hand to get their attention. Tempy swung around to face her, nearly sending everyone atop him tumbling down, and roared in return.

"Woah, there!" Eret cried, holding onto a spine with one hand, dangling hundreds of feet above the jagged stones of the cliffs. He pulled himself up onto the spine, stood on it, and dusted himself off. Anatoli floundered with the packages, struggling to keep them in place. Eret caught sight of me and shouted, "Well, hello there, Miss Chief!"

I grinned. "Not yet!" I called. "But I am coming here to ask a favor."

"I know, I know!" Eret said. He did an impressive leap up onto another set of spines, weaving between them to get to Anatoli and help him tie everything down. "Stoick has given me the talk more than once. We're leaving soon, I promise. Can't have Tempy stealing all your fish before winter, eh?"

"Well, yes," I said, "but this is something else."

He gave me a funny look, finished his knotwork, and leapt clear down to Tempy's tusk. The Stormcutter lurched to grab him, but he landed with practiced ease. I directed Stormfly closer so that I could step onto the tusk, not so confident in my skills to land and not fall off. Once deposited, she flapped over to the opposite tusk, where she began to caw and crow at the enormous dragon.

"So, what is it?" Eret asked.

"You said yesterday that the dragon-trappers are moving south, right?"

He eyed me. "Yes…"

"Do we know what they're doing?"

Eret shrugged. "Dragon trapping? It's kind-of their whole job description."

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously. But why the retreat from our waters?"

"I already told you!" He lifted his chin. "It's because of me and the lads. With Tempy guarding the border, nobody would dare come near!"

"It's a long border," I reminded him. "Easy to get through if you spread wide enough. I don't think that's it."

Now he was rolling his eyes. "I think the paranoia's already got to you. Now you're just lookin' for reasons to be worried."

"Paranoia?" I repeated. I shook my head. "That's besides the point. The last time we were attacked in full force, we were completely unprepared. Berk was almost leveled to the ground because of it. If the dragon-trappers have been bothering us for five years, I doubt they're leaving because they're giving up. There's something going on, and I want to find out before it's at our doorstep."

Eret frowned thoughtfully. "That's a fair point," he conceded. "I'm sure I can get a few of my men to scout."

Here was the hard part. Nodding, I said, "I was going to say the same. And I want Snotlout to come with you."

He froze. "The hot-tempered boy with the overly-anxious Nightmare?"

"That's the one."

"No. No, no, no!" Eret protested, holding his hands up. "My men and I have a routine. We have our lifestyle down to an art. I don't want to babysit someone who's gonna go off picking fights he can't win."

"He's not an idiot," I pressed. "Just…overconfident. Or he tries to be, anyways. He would be a valuable asset if you just pushed him a little in the right direction."

"Are you just trying to get rid of 'em?" Eret accused, squinting one eye at me.

"No," I emphasized, pushing all of my denial into that one word. I truly wasn't trying to dump him on someone else, make him another person's problem. "I'm just…trying to help him." I met his suspicious eyes. "Look. I know it's a big favor to ask of you. But this is something important for all of usーyour people, mine, and all the other Viking tribes with dragons. And our team has spent plenty of time hunting down the dragon-trappers over the years. He could give you valuable information on how they move, strike, and coordinate with each other. And he'd probably help you figure out what they're doing, too."

Eret lifted a brow. "My men spend plenty of time fightin' them, too."

"But do you track them down?" I challenged. "Do you try to learn what they're up to, who's leading them, and where their old hideouts are? Do you know what the best way to track them is, and how to avoid the different ways they watch out for attacks? We've learned all of these things, because Hiccup and Fishlegs have always insisted on observation first, attack second. I thought it was a waste of time until it wasn't."

Eret crossed his arms. He huffed. "I suppose that could be…useful." He shook his head. "But…"

I sighed inwardly. It was time to pull out the final resort.

"If you agree," I said reluctantly, "then you can have twice the amount of ale that you traded for."

His head snapped up. I was already regretting the financial loss.

"Well!" Eret laughed. "Why didn't you lead with that?" He clapped me on the shoulder. "You got a deal, Miss Chief!"

o.O.o

Once I had haggled out the particulars with Eret, Stormfly and I took our leave, returning to the open skies. The tension that had built up in my shoulders over the conversation eased. It was hard to stay worried when we were flying up in the clear, bright sky. "Alright, Stormfly!" I said. "Can you find Snotlout and Hookfang?"

She shouted her affirmation with a boisterous twirl. We raced back from Tempy's bay, over the cliffs and forests to Berk. Between dodging other nestmates, buildings, and trees, Stormfly swung her head to and fro, nostrils working to catch the scent.

I knew the exact moment she found it, because she snapped her wings out and jerked into a hover. A less-experienced rider would have been knocked about in the saddle, even concussed from smacking their head into their companion, but I lucked out and managed to not injure myself.

"Stormfly," I complained anyway. Random spins and flips I could tolerate, but these kinds of dangerous maneuvers could end up getting me actually hurt.

She shot a meek grimace over her shoulder and crooned out the familiar "Sorry!" she always gave when she was too reckless. I patted her to let her know it was okay, and she zipped off again without a care, never slowing down.

We swooped above Berk, out towards the forested mountains that guarded it from the northern gales. Soon I spotted a flash of bright red amongst the deep emeralds and brown-grays of the cliffsides. Stormfly took the opportunity to show off, spinning and flipping in front of her playmate, calling out taunts to him.

Hookfang crowed back. Sitting on the grass cleaning his saddle, Snotlout scowled.

After some more showy maneuvers, Stormfly finally took us into a landing. I leapt off her. She had pounced on Hookfang before my feet even touched the ground. With a delighted squawk, he wormed away and took flight, Stormfly at his tail. They chased each other in the skies, flitting around with far more speed and agility than either would dare try with Snotlout or me on their backs.

I turned to Snotlout. "I have a job for you."

His head snapped up. For a moment, hope rose in his eyes, which then sank into suspicion. "I don't need the pity party," he said. He continued oiling Hookfang's saddle, taking care to make sure all of the links slid smoothly over each other and that the padding was plump. I had a strong feeling that Hookfang hadn't gone a day in his life feeling the wiring beneath.

"It's not," I said, fighting down the immediate surge of irritation that came so naturally. I plopped down beside him with a sigh. "Look," I said, "I know that things have been tough for you lately. And that I haven't helped much."

"Yeah, no kidding," he muttered.

I suppressed another sigh. "Well, this is me making it up to you. I have a job that I need you to do."

I explained everything to him: my concerns about the dragon trappers suddenly abandoning our waters, how Eret's men were going to start keeping a closer eye on them, and how I thought he could help them. I especially emphasized the skills he well and truly had that I thought would be an asset for them.

"And, unless you want anyone to come with you, this will be a solo mission for you," I finished.

Though he was still frowning, Snotlout had straightened and the tension had gone out of his shoulders. "And this isn't…" He swallowed, and without meeting my eyes, he said, "This isn't just you sending me away?"

I punched him in the shoulder. "C'mon, Snotlout, you know I would've done that years ago if I wanted to." He looked up at me, eyes shining with hope and doubt, and I said, "You don't have to if you don't want to. But I thought that you might like having something to do on your own. You know, to show your skills."

I left out the obvious: that when we were in a group, Hiccup and Toothless' leadership roles, Fishlegs' analytics and knowledge, and my own skills easily overshadowed his own. He never got a chance to shine on his own, and the resentment he harbored towards us kind-of made sense because of that.

Snotlout fiddled with the saddle. "I guess that would be kinda cool…" he said.

"You don't have to make a decision now," I said. "Eret's leaving tomorrow morning, so you have until then toー"

"No." Snotlout set his jaw. "I'm gonna do it."

I grinned. "And you're sure you don't want any backup? Maybe the twins?"

He paled. "NO! Gods, no."

I laughed. "Well, if that's that, then you better start packing."

He leapt to his feet. "Alright! I can totally do this." To our dragons, he shouted with all the volume of a well-built Viking, "HOOKIE, GET OVER HERE!"

I had covered my ears before he shouted, but they still rang.

I stood up and brushed myself off. "I'm glad you're excited about this," I said earnestly. I hesitated, then put a hand on his shoulder. "You're right that people have been pretty unfair to you. I know that this doesn't make it go away, but I hope it'll be a start."

He grinned and offered a friendly punch to my shoulder. "Yeah, well, I guess this makes up for it a little."

Hookfang plopped to the ground at that moment, eyes wide and curious. He gave a questioning croon.

"We've got a mission, Hookie!" Snotlout said. Hookfang tilted his head to the side, eyes flicking to mine and Stormfly's. He lowered his head to Snotlout, who quickly but carefully re-attached the saddle. He launched into a very…editorialized version of their new job, rife with mystery and dangers and opportunity.

Stormfly turned to me, narrowed her eyes accusingly, and squawked.

"Stormfly, we have important things to do, too!" I laughed.

She was definitely pouting. She nosed me towards Snotlout and Hookfang, chirruping.

"Aw, already miss us?" Snotlout crowed, puffing his chest up. He finished the saddle adjustments and leapt into it. "Don't worry, you'll only miss out a lot!"

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't keep a smile down. At least he was already throwing himself into it.

Stormfly whined, looking at me pleadingly.

"No, Stormfly," I said. I jumped into her saddle. "And don't you even think about trying to kidnap me all the way to Tempy's nest. Again."

She froze mid-crouch and reluctantly settled upright.

"That's what I thought," I said. "Don't worry, we'll hear from you two with Terror mail. Right?" I asked pointedly to Snotlout.

"Well, of course!" he drawled. "How else can I give reports on the dragon trappers?"

"Good." I patted Stormfly. "Well, if that's settled, then we have to go check on the dragonery to see if the messengers from the other islands are back. Their weekly reports are due today."

Stormfly sighed. Loudly. Hookfang craned his swanlike neck over to her and nipped at her head spines playfully.

"And we have to pack!" Snotlout announced. His eyes widened. "Oh, and I should probably tell my parents."

"Probably," I said, wondering how long it would take Spitelout and Eelsbreath to realize their son had disappeared from the island. "I'll see you tonight for dinner?"

Snotlout nodded. "Yeah! We'll need to load up before the flight tomorrow." He urged Hookfang forwardーthen stopped. "Um, Astrid?"

I met his eyes, curious.

"Thanks." He shuffled a little in his saddle, blushing. "It means a lot. Especially when I've been a little bit of a jerk to you guys."

"Only a little?" I said, quirking an eyebrow.

Snotlout grimaced, running a hand through his head. "Yeah…well, oh well. I just hope…" he sighed, casting his eyes out to the southern ocean. "…I hope Hiccup and Uncle Stoick aren't mad at me."

"They're not," I reassured him. "I'm sure they're so busy looking for those Night Furies, they won't even remember it."

Snotlout relaxed. "Yeah, that's true. And I gotta focus on this!" He straightened in his saddle, eyeing Tempy's bay. "I'm gonna go find Eret and talk to him. See you later, Astrid!"

He and Hookfang tore into the air. Stormfly and I watched them go until they disappeared over the lip of the bay. Then, with a whole island to look after, we set off into our busy day.

Chapter Text

Interlude

Snotlout

Berk was a speck behind us, and I was pumped!

“Alright, lad,” Eret shouted over the wind, seated firmly on Anatoli’s back. The Stormcutter flew off to his side, carrying most of the cargo instead of a rider. Below, a raging current marked Tempy’s trot on the ocean floor. “Let’s go over a few ground rules before we--”

“ Rules? ” I interrupted. “What am I, a little kid?”

Eret shot me a look that said, “I totally think you are”. 

I rolled my eyes. “Astrid and I already talked about your deal before we left,” I said, waving a hand at him. Ticking off on my fingers, I listed, “No going off on my own, no starting fights, no stealing the ale, no setting things on fire, no letting Hookfang play tag with Tempy…did I miss anything?” I asked sarcastically.

“ Especially no stealing the ale,” Eret said, pointing at me. Even Anatoli looked serious about that one, his scales flashing a dangerous blood-red in warning.

I scoffed. “Fine, fine.” It wasn’t that good, anyways. Spiked yaknog was much better.

The ocean below exploded into a spray as Tempy leapt up for air like a big, fat, overgrown whale. He spread the fins on his side out like wings, lunged an entire island’s length ahead of us, and belly-flopped back under with a happy roar. The massive spray reached way higher than we were flying--which was already pretty high--and then curled back down, raining on us like a torrent.

Hookie opened his mouth to catch some, only to cough and spit when he realized that it hadn’t magically turned into freshwater. I scowled down at my absolutely-soaked tunic. It would take forever to dry, which meant that I would freeze up here until we got settled down. That meant that my afternoon workout would be put off, because obviously my muscles didn’t work as well when I was cold. Already, my entire day’s plans were put off.

I almost even opened my mouth to complain about just that.

You have to do something important to be important.

My mouth clicked shut. Important people don’t complain about getting a little wet. They don’t let it get in their way, either.

So, wringing my hair out, I asked, “What’re we gonna do when we get back?”

“Unpack?” Eret said.

“I know,” I groaned, “but after? You know, the whole thing with the dragon trappers? ”

Eret frowned. “We’ll have to come up with a plan about that. I hadn’t put much thought into it, but Astrid does have a point that it’s strange.”

“And we’ll get to the bottom of it!” I said. “Right, Hookie?”

I patted him, and he turned his head and met my eye with a tongue-lolling grin. “ Yes! ” he chirped.

“Just remember that you’re part of a team ,” Eret said sternly. “No going off on your own!”

“I know! ” I said. Before I could even think about what I was saying, I said, “I’m not Hiccup! ”

The moment the words left me, I grimaced. Hookie glanced back at me with worried eyes.

“No, you’re not,” Eret agreed. “Only someone like him would go to the mainland with a Night Fury while Grimmel was still stomping around there.”

A weird feeling settled in my stomach. One that always came on when certain subjects came up. Like who would be Chief. Or when everyone got a job but me.

Or when Hiccup talked about being a dragon again.

“You don’t think it’s that big a deal, do you?” I said, forcing my voice to be totally cool and not worried at all.

“Oh, I definitely do!” Eret groaned, shaking his head. “But nothing I could say would ward them off. I just hope they’re as stealthy as they think they are.”

I knew my cousin and Toothless. The moment he saw any dragon in danger, they would abandon everything to save them. They would give themselves away doing something stupid and heroic, just like always, but they wouldn’t get yelled at or called idiots, because they were smart enough to find a way out of the problems they made.

But they always did end up way over their heads.

My shoulders sank. The weird feeling yawned wider, like an endless, hungry pit. The last I had seen him, Hiccup had been staring out at me in the crowd, clear hurt and confliction in his eyes...and I had just ran away . Like a stupid...stupid... idiot! Now Hiccup would probably agonize over it like he always did, even though there was literally no reason to worry over and over about something that had already happened.

What if something happened to them while they were out there? What if that was the end of it?

“Hey,” Eret said, his voice softer. “Maybe I was being a little harsh. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

I shook myself off and scowled. “Of course they’ll be fine! Obviously! ” I snapped. “If they die, I’m gonna kill them!”

Anatoli managed to raise an eyebrow at me. The Stormcutter let out a dragon’s gurgling laugh, and even Eret gave a wry grin.

“That’s, uh, that’s the spirit,” he said.

Tempy leapt out of the ocean again with a roar. Anatoli and the Stormcutter snapped their necks towards him, eyes wide.

With an enormous splash, the sea-dragon ducked into the ocean and raced after the tidal wave he had just made.

“Ugh, not again! ” Eret complained. He gave Anatoli a firm pat on the shoulder. “C’mon, big fella!”

Anatoli and the Stormcutter shot off after Tempy, who was already receding on the horizon. Hookfang lurched forward, matching their pace wingbeat for wingbeat.

In the wild chase, that bad gut feeling receded. But only a little bit.

You need to do something important to be important.

I narrowed my eyes, gripping Hookfang’s saddle harder, and urged him forward. He overtook Anatoli and the Stormcutter easily, because of course he was faster than them after five years of keeping up with a Night Fury. We began to gain ground on the young sea-dragon.

I would do something important, all right. I was going to get rid of those dragon trappers.

And maybe, once I did...that would make all of it up to Hiccup.

o.O.o

Because we had visited the Bewilderbeast nest a couple times over the years, Hookfang knew the way in. He wove around the jagged, cyan ice pillars--some old, some new. Then the deep teal of the caverns swallowed us, the thrill of flying in the dark, and we burst out into the dense foliage of the nest.

Tempy was already hanging out in his hole, plodding around in a circle, lying down, and stretching his legs all the way out. He let out a deep rumblemoan of pleasure that I felt in my chest.

Scattered throughout the nest were huts and tents; Eret’s men saw no need to make buildings, and also apparently didn’t care that much about privacy, either. Some were sparring, others fixing dinner, others chasing dragons away from the food. The rest, I knew, were out patrolling.

All of them had a job.

I rolled my shoulders. I would, too.

Hookie joined the dragons as they circled around Tempy, hunching a little when a few curious ones came in closer.

“Better make some new friends, Hookie! We’ll be here awhile!” I said. He tilted his head and gave me a wide-eyed look.

By then, Eret, Anatoli, and the Stormcutter had finally made it in. I pointed Hookie over to them as they landed, joining the growing crowd as Eret’s men came over.

Eret glanced over them and nodded to himself. “Right!” he said. He leapt off of Anatoli. “I’ve gotten twice the normal amount of ale, and we’ve got a guest here!” he pointed at me and then, leering at me and his men in turn, barked, “I expect all of you lot to get along. No fighting!”

I blinked at them. They blinked back. I was definitely the youngest, but I still held my head high. For their part, though they looked confused for some reason, they didn’t say anything.

“We’ve got a new task,” Eret went on, “involving tracking down Drago’s scraps once and for all. Snotlout here has had some experience knockin’ their heads around, so he’s here to help.” He jerked a thumb at the cargo the Stormcutter was carrying. “Once we’re done unpacking, we begin.”

“Wait, what about resting?” I asked. “We just flew all the way here.”

Eret rolled his eyes. “You can rest when you’re dead.”

Then he spun on his heel and began to unpack, breaking the spell holding the others in place. They began to swarm around us as I stood there, feeling completely out of place.

What would Hiccup, Toothless, or Astrid do?

I squared my shoulders. Eret was right. I didn’t have time to sit around!

So I shouldered my way in among the others, grabbing as much as I could, and flung myself into the task. It wasn’t a job Eret had given me--but he hadn’t asked anyone to help, and they still came.

I liked that. On Berk, everyone was given assignments.

But here…

Here, I had a chance.

o.O.o

“Wakey wakey!”

I leapt onto Hookie’s head, grabbed his horns, and tussled with him. 

“ Snotlout! ” he whined, wrenching his head back and forth. By the time he had shaken me off, he was very awake and very grumpy.

He blinked around the still-dark nest and then shot me an accusing look.

“We gotta get up early!” I said. “Patrols shift before daybreak. We’re going out this morning!”

He tipped his head and then looked over at where Anatoli, his mate the Stormcutter, and a few other dragons were snoozing upside-down. They hung from the sheer-cut stones just above Eret’s tent, where I could hear him snoring all the way from here. Then he turned back to me and gurgled a question.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes and putting my hands on my hips. “ No , they didn’t tell us to, but that doesn’t mean we can’t! It’s different here!”

Hookie lowered his head, nervous now.

“Oh, c’mon, Hookie!” I groaned. I grabbed his horns and pulled him up. “We’re gonna be important, remember? Think of how jealous Stormfly’ll be!”

That put a sly smirk on his face. He whuffed a small chuckle and finally got moving. I took him over to where I had packed his saddle away somewhere dry, nestled beneath several stones and out of the way of ice-melt. I threw a soft blanket and cushion onto his neck and got to oiling the metal framework. Hookie knew the drill already. He helped out as best as he could, holding still until I held his harness up for him. He wriggled into it like an eel. Then he began pointing nose at every single loose strapping, making his saddle slide all around his neck, as if I didn’t know I hadn’t tightened it already.

“Okay, nice and tight?” I asked when I was finished. Hookie braced his legs and shook his head like a wet dog. When the saddle stayed put, he gaped in a dragon’s smile at me. “‘Atta boy,” I said. “Now--”

My stomach roared loud enough to wake up the whole damn nest. Hookie craned his neck and sniffed at my stomach. He cooed a concerned question at me.

“Oh, please , I’m not hungry!” I said, shoving him away. 

Somehow, he always managed to see right through most of my lies. I had barely a moment to yelp before my annoying dragon snatched me right up by my tunic. With me dangling from his teeth like a wet rag, he walked aimlessly around the camp.

Oh, gods, if anyone saw me being carried around like this…!

“ Hookfang! ” I hissed, kicking uselessly and pulling at his lip. “Put! Me! Down!”

He grimaced at hearing his full name--as he should --but kept going.

“Hook. Fang.” I flailed, swinging my arms at him. “Down. Now. ”

He opened his mouth and let me fall. I landed in a crouch and stood, dusting myself off and scowling at his tongue-lolling grin.

His eyes focused up over my shoulder.

Cold dread shot through me. I spun around.

Eret stood, arms crossed, smirking down his stupid, perfectly-proportioned nose at me. Anatoli stood at his side with an identical expression.

Flushing hotter than a pissed-off Monstrous Nightmare, I straightened my clothing and my posture. “I’m ready for patrol!” I shouted. “Hookie and I were...uh...uh...doing trust falls!”

“Trust falls?” Eret drawled, quirking an eyebrow.

“Y-yeah! Trust falls!” I said. “Only the most closely bonded pairs can do it! Your turn, Hookie!” I turned around and opened my arms to him.

For however much he had embarrassed me, I had to hand it to him: he committed.

With a chirp, Hookie went completely limp right above me.

As his Viking-sized head plummeted towards my open arms, I had the slight suspicion that I had messed up.

Then, darkness.

o.O.o

Hookie worried over me for the entire patrol, spending almost the entire time flying so slow and whining apology after apology to me.

It didn’t matter much, anyways. For our first patrol, Eret made us stay right outside the nest. We spent the entire morning circling around it like crazy people.

The same thing happened the next day. Then the next. Then the next.

“ Ugh! ” I groaned, watching as another patrol went towards the southern border, leaving us behind to guard the King’s nest. Again. “What are we gonna do, Hookie?”

He drifted along the updrafts, not even bothering to flap his wings unless he had to move out of the way of another dragon. He crooned worriedly--then snapped his head up.

“ Snotlout! ” he said, pointing his nose below. I really had no other choice than to look, since I was riding on his neck, but I was glad he pointed.

Below, the water crashed and frothed in a savage current, like a storm breaking the waves on the rocks.

The King was on the move.

“Follow him! I bet it’s something important!” I urged Hookie. He needed no more encouragement and took off.

The King was heading south, just like the patrols. The sea-winds blasted past us, the salt stinging against my chapped skin and dry eyes. The day was clear and bright without a cloud in the sky, and visibility was great. A grin stretched across my face and I gripped the saddle tighter. 

This was gonna be exciting, I just knew it!

Hookie was definitely one of the fastest dragons on Berk, but even he couldn’t keep up with the Bewilderbeast. Soon the enormous dragon was lost from my sight, leaving nothing but his wake to follow. The occasional splash of a whale or sea-dragon dotted the turquoise, tumultuous waterscape below.

“Can you still see him, Hookie?” I shouted over the breath-stealing wind.

“ Yeah! ” he crowed, the wind stealing his breath and sending his voice away.

“Good! Keep it up!”

We raced towards the south like pirates caught stealing, hurtling into the unknown. The wake never faded, even as Hookie started to get tired enough to slow down.

Eventually, I remembered my spyglass. I fumbled in my tunic, nearly dropped it, and snapped it open.

The first thing I saw was the King’s crown rising above the water. A speck of movement swarmed past him. I snapped after it just in time to see the shape of a dragon.

Hookie yelped. I swung the spyglass around, trying to get the whole picture.

That was when I saw the ships, with their characteristic flags and cages on deck.

“Raiders! Yes!” I cheered. “C’mon, Hookie, let’s help them!”

That was enough to give him a second wind. He powered forward, crossing the huge distance across the ocean fast enough to make any dragon jealous--maybe even Toothless.

Soon we were close enough to see the ships with the naked eye. There were three of them in their usual arrow formation. Tempy had dove underwater and was practically invisible beneath the thrashing water. The southern patrol swarmed around the raiders, but ducked and dove seemingly at random. That meant they likely were shooting at them with arrows, or worse, ballistas. I leaned hard to the side, and Hookie took the cue to bank around them so we could get a closer look.

The ship at the front was the lead, while those in the middle would likely have the most bounty. Flashes of bright colors on the deck told me enough.

“Let’s get them free, then show these assholes what happens when you mess with us!” I growled. Hookie let out his most ferocious snarl, tipped his wings towards one of the ships with captives, and--

The ocean erupted. Tempy sprang out of the water like a damned rabbit, spreading the fins on his side like wings and sailing straight over the entire patrol. The sun blotted out, and the sky seemingly filled with darkness. He pounded into the ocean several leagues from the vessels, sending a tsunami cresting up, up, up--

“Tempy, no! ” Eret screamed, even though it was too damned late.

The tidal wave was the stuff of nightmares, arching high over the masts. The men aboard howled, the dragons wailed.

And every single ship capsized, like toy boats thrown out to sea.

“ No! ” Hookfang shouted. He tucked his wings and dove, skimming over the crashing water, wide eyes searching below.

Tempy popped his head out of the water and turned around, sending another wave tumbling towards us. I pulled hard on Hookie’s horns, forcing his head up until he saw the wall of water. He darted up over it, squealing.

“Tempy! The cages! The dragons!” One of Eret’s men was shouting.

“Tempy!” Eret shouted, pointing wildly below.

The dragons were all shrieking at him, too. He darted his head back and forth, eyes wide and confused.

I ground my teeth and growled. Kicking my legs out of the stirrups, I bolted to my feet and stood up on Hookie’s forehead.

“HEY! IDIOT!” I hollered, waving my hands and jumping up and down. 

Tempy swung towards me, his great eyes piercing mine.

“THOSE DRAGONS WILL DROWN IF YOU DON’T GET THEM!”

Hookie let out a bellow of his own. He had a good pair of lungs on him when he actually used them.

Tempy’s pupils thinned. He let out a whine.

That was the only warning we got before he crashed below. The water reared like a beast made of a thousand claws, bowling into us and knocking us ass-over-tail. It ripped me out of the saddle. All of my insides flipped end-over-end.

“Hookie!” I cried, spinning in a whirl of sky-blue, white froth, ocean-navy, a flash of red--

Claws wrapped around my leg. I lurched to a stop, dangling upside-down.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Eret shouted from Anatoli’s shoulders. The opal dragon was panting heavily, eyes locked on the waves below. He snapped his jaws and backpedaled, taking us up and away.

Another gale of water, and Tempy resurfaced. Balanced on his back, his fins spread out wide to catch anything, were several dragon cages. The poor things coughed and spluttered, and several didn’t move at all.

Hookie dipped just below us, and Anatoli unceremoniously dropped me. I smacked into my dragon’s back and had to crawl my way back up to the saddle, cursing all the while.

“Let’s go, Hookie!” I said. “Everyone’s already heading over!”

We joined the rush to the cages. The dragons trapped inside were wild-eyed with terror, obviously. Our own dragons tried to calm them, but it was no good. Every time someone came near the cages, claws, teeth, and spines would streak towards them. One dragon yelped, and one of the men shouted as a Nadder spine sunk deep into his shoulder.

“Just get the damned cages open!” Eret ordered. Anatoli leapt out of the way of another spray of spines and snarled at the dragon who’d shot them. The Horrendous Spineslinger bared its gnarly teeth right back, pupils slit, its four tails lashing.

“They’re freaking out!” I shouted. “You’re just gonna-- woah! ” I swung in the saddle as Hookie tore away from the cage we were near, the three-headed dragon inside inches from biting him.

Tempy, looking over his shoulder, let out a deep call. That only made the dragons inside the cage panic even more. The only ones who weren’t scrambling around their cages were the ones who were half-conscious. Those dragons’ cages were already open, but if they were awake at all, their eyes were dazed and unfocused.

I groaned, running a hand over my face.

It looked like we were gonna do this the hard way, then.

“Hookie, that one!” I said, pointing at the cage with the biggest dragon.

He immediately knew what I was up to and shook his head. “ No! ”

“Go!” I snapped. “C’mon, you know it’ll work!”

With a worried whimper, he flew straight over the cage I’d pointed at. Within it was a gangly-looking Crimson Goregutter.

I cracked my knuckles and leapt off of Hookie, between the bars of the cage--and on top of the dragon’s head, right between its moose-like antlers.

The dragon froze for a precious moment.

“HEY!” I roared, planting my feet and gripping onto both of their antlers. “I’M IN CHARGE NOW!”

The dragon bellowed. They threw their head this way and that, smashing into the cage. With each bone-jarring strike, vibrations went thrumming through my hands and all the way down my legs, but I wasn’t about to give up. Settled in between their antlers, the Crimson Goregutter could flail around all day long and I wouldn’t get a scratch on me.

They seemed to realize this soon, coming to a stop and panting. They tilted their head just enough to see me and bared yellowed teeth, rumbling in a dangerous snarl.

“Yeah, yeah, your life sucks right now! Big dDeal with it!” I shouted. I shifted both of my hands onto one antler and jumped down the side of their head, letting myself hang from it right next to their eye. Staring straight into their venomous leer, I scowled and bared my teeth like I was Hiccup. “Look! Do you want out or not?!” I pointed outside the cage.

Hookie was right outside of it, eyes enormous and whining. He keened at the Crimson Goregutter, which looked between him and me with growing alarm.

“Hookie! Pull the latch!” I shouted. I mimed the action of grabbing the lever, pulling it up, and shoving it aside.

Hookie chomped down on the latch and looked at me.

“Good! Now pull it up!”

I could see the wheels in his head turning. But my dragon was one of the smartest, ever , and he managed to pull it up, unhooking the locks. Without any more instructions, he thrust it to the side, opening the cage with a triumphant screech.

The Crimson Goregutter gaped.

“Ta-dah!” I sang, gesturing with a hand at the opened space.

The dragon needed no more encouragement. They lurched forward, nearly throwing me right off, and took flight within moments. I checked below us and let go.

Hookie spiraled up and caught me. He cawed at the Crimson Goregutter, who had pulled into a slow circle around the cages. The enormous dragon still looked totally shocked, but also really grumpy.

The dragons below, on the other hand, had gone completely silent. So had Eret and his men.

“Well?!” I snapped at them. “Are ya gonna open the rest of the cages or not?”

Within a few minutes, all of the dragons had been freed, and the injured ones were nestled on the Crimson Goregutter’s back. Tempy was more than happy to shake the cages off of his back, letting them plop back into the ocean.

Eret and Anatoli hovered next to me. Eret ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, we would have liked to take someone hostage to question them,” he grumbled.

“Aren’t’cha glad I was here?” I said. “Otherwise you would’ve been stuck dealing with all of those angry dragons turning you into a porcupine!”

Eret rolled his eyes. “We would’ve calmed them down without risking our lives like that.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “Although I do respect the hands-on approach.”

Anatoli rolled his eyes in clear disagreement, but Hookie and I puffed up.

“Captain!” Cynebl shouted, flying over on his dragon. Clutched in the dragon’s claws was a wooden chest. “We found this bobbing away.”

“Good man!” Eret said. “Let’s get that back home so we can see inside. And you! ” He spun on Tempy, who was sitting in the ocean with his head tipped aside like a giant puppy. “ You are in so much trouble! ”

Anatoli, his mate, and all of the dragons of their nest growled. Tempy lowered his head.

My grin faded.

I knew what it was like to be teamed up on like that.

“Hey! He was useful!” I shouted. Tempy perked up, his eyes alight, and blinked at me. “None of you could have even gotten close to the cages without him!”

“He nearly drowned all of the other dragons!” Brennus added.

I rolled my eyes. “Well, if you hadn’t all started screaming at him all at the same time, then maybe he would have saved them faster! In fact,” I pointed at all of them, “if you had let him come in the first place, then he probably would have been able to help without putting them all in danger!”

Tempy looked hopefully between me and Eret, Anatoli, and the Stormcutter.

“Eh, I s’pose that’s a good point,” Cynebl muttered with a shrug. A few of the others piped up in agreement, while just as many scoffed and shook their heads.

Eret threw his head back with a moan. “ Now isn’t the time for this! No matter how you spin it, both of you weren’t where you belonged.”

“You never said I couldn’t come!” I argued.

“I never said you could, either!” he retorted. To Tempy, he said, “And I definitely told you to stay put!”

Tempy narrowed his eyes and puffed a gale of frost at him.

“Don’t you sass me!” Eret scolded, shaking the thin layer of ice off.

“Come on! ” I said. “What do you expect? He obviously wants to help!”

Eret sent me a glare, then directed it at Tempy. The huge dragon snorted, sending streams of fog out over the ocean.

“Seriously, what’re ya gonna do?” I persisted. I leaned forward in the saddle. “He shouldn’t be trapped in the nest, treated like he’s too stupid or incompetent to even try to help!”

“I’m picking up a lot of projection here,” Eret said flatly, raising an eyebrow. Anatoli snorted, leering at me.

“Aw, c’mon, Eret, the lad’s got a point!” Cynebl said.

“And quite a set of lungs,” Thalos joked, earning a few laughs from the others. “I’ve never seen Tempy mind someone like that!”

“He gets me,” I said, putting my hands on my hips and lifting my chin.

Tempy whined, stepping close to Anatoli and putting on the most pitiful face I had ever seen on a dragon. The colorful dragon scrunched his nose up and looked away, but as Tempy continued to beg, his harsh expression softened.

The Stormcutter said something, and Anatoli let out a huge sigh and hung his head. He craned his neck around to look at Eret and crooned.

Eret threw his hands up in the air. “ Argh! Fine! We’ll talk about this back at the nest!”

“Yes! Yes!” I cheered, pumping my fist in the air. Hookie did a little spin, and Tempy tapped his feet in excitement, kicking up giant, frothing waves.

“Gods, I already regret this,” Eret moaned, running his hands over his eyes. “I should just give you back to Astrid.”

“Hah! You wish!” I said. “C’mon, Hookie! C’mon, Tempy!”

Hookie bolted away, and with a joyful roar, Tempy leapt forward with us. He crashed into the water, completely soaking us with spray. This time, though, I didn’t mind.

I think I knew how to prove myself.

o.O.o

“Alright, this better be good!” Eret said, thrusting the chest open.

Everyone in the ice nest crowded in to get a look--even Tempy.

The first thing I noticed was that the entire inside of chest, especially the edges of each half, was coated in a thick layer of tar. The rest of the chest was full of hay, which was miraculously dry. Eret threw out handful after handful of the stuff until he revealed the prize. Nestled within them like dragon eggs were three objects covered in cloth and a tight wrapping of twine. They looked like jars. The cloths definitely had oil worked into them, shimmering with little droplets of water streaming right off of them.

“Ale?” someone asked hopefully.

Eret tugged the twine off of one and unwrapped it. His eyebrows kicked up. The jar was sheer black and shone like a gem. Its spout was also wrapped tightly in oiled cloth and twine.

“Someone went through a lot of work to keep this dry,” Eret mused, ripping the second cloth off to reveal a tar-coated cork. He ripped it off and sniffed inside. He wrinkled his nose. “Eugh, not alcohol.”

Several people moaned in dismay.

“Well, then what is it?” I said.

Eret squinted, sloshing it around.  He proffered it to Anatoli. The dragon took one sniff and flinched away, pawing at his nose and hissing.

I glanced at Hookie. “What’d he say?”

Eret snapped his head up. “Wait, you can understand him?”

I rolled my eyes and drawled, “Hookie and I share a bond deeper than language.”

“ Yeah! ” Hookie chirped.

Eret flattened his eyelids.

Hookie pointed his nose at the jar. He swung his head and spat out a glob of magma. Then he sniffed it, pointed at the fire, and then back at the container again.

Eret looked at me expectantly.

“Smells like fire, obviously,” I said.

Eret turned to Anatoli, who reluctantly nodded.

Pursing his lips, Eret grabbed another huge handful of hay. “Alright, everyone back up!” Once a circle had formed, he thrust the hay on the ground and poured a small amount of the tarry-brown liquid on top.

Nothing happened.

“Lame,” I muttered.

“Well, it’s not Monstrous Nightmare saliva,” someone said.

“Then what is it?” asked someone else.

“What I want to know is why it’s so important,” Eret said.

One of the Hobblegrunts--Shimmer, I think--craned her neck and sniffed. Her scales flared neon yellow in alarm. She squeaked and recoiled. As she did, her foot splashed into one of the many puddles in the nest; a side effect of having ice for a ceiling.

Just a drop of water landed on the liquid-soaked hay.

It erupted into white flame.

Everyone, human and dragon, took a step back.

The flame was wild and hot, painful to look at--and growing quickly. Already it had eaten through all the hay and was burning away at the green foliage. Before I could blink, it had crept to the puddle Shimmer had stepped in, and on contact, it burst forward into huge, reaching flames.

“Uh, is someone gonna do something?!” I shouted.

One dragon watching from above spat boiling water onto it, which only made the flames reach higher. Now the flames were searing-hot, taller than me, eating away the foliage, and too bright to look at.

Hookie lunged forward and stomped on the flames. But instead of going out, he let out a shriek--and when he drew away, his paw was on fire.

“ HOOKIE! ” I screamed. I tore my coat off and swatted at his paw with it, but all that did was catch that on fire, too. Cursing, I threw it on the ground, dug my hands into the earth, and thrust it at his foot. The flames hissed, crackling and sputtering.

“Sand! Use sand!” Eret shouted.

The Stormcutter roared, splaying the fins ridging his skull, and then turned around. Digging all four of his wing-feet into the ground, he began digging like a maniac, kicking up huge clouds of earth, plants, and sand. Hookie, me, and everyone else were covered in the wave of debris.

The fire sizzled and popped. The intense heat subsided, like I had dove into the ocean.

I coughed, rubbing the grit from my eyes. “Hookie?”

He sneezed several times in a row and held his paw up.

All traces of the fire was gone. His scales were burned--actually burned , which said a lot about how hot the white flames were.

“Oh, Hookie,” I murmured, walking over to him and examining him. He grimaced as I poked and prodded his paw. The burn didn’t seem serious, thank Odin. “You okay?”

He sniffed at his paw and licked it. He paused, then thoughtfully licked it again. Eventually, he looked back at me and nodded. Anatoli and the Stormcutter padded over, each of them caught between consoling and scolding Hookie. Both of them had their turn sniffing his wound. Finally, Anatoli dipped his nose to Hookie’s paw and went very still, closing his eyes. Hookie jolted, baring his teeth in pain. I rubbed his shoulder and watched in morbid fascination as his burnt scales shriveled and fell off, revealing fresh, new scales beneath.

“Everyone else alright?” Eret asked. At the resounding chorus of “aye!”, he nodded, went over to where the pile of hay had been, and kicked more sand over it for good measure. He turned to me. “Have you ever seen that on their ships before?”

Hookie and I both shook our heads. “No,” I said, my brow furrowing. “We’d be done for if they managed to hit us with that over the open ocean.”

“So why do they have it now? ” Eret mused, staring at the obsidian jar in his hand like it was a hissing snake. “And where did they get it from?”

“Not to mention, why are they here?” I brought up. “Just the other day in Berk, you were saying you hadn’t seen any of the raiders around here for awhile.”

Eret scowled. He shoved the cork back into the jar, set it back inside the chest, and slammed it shut.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But we’d best find out.”

o.O.o

Snotlout,

Thanks for keeping me in the loop. I had Fishlegs do some research and he thinks that what you guys found was “Greek Fire”. Flammable on contact with water, almost impossible to put out. He says you’re lucky that the entire nest didn’t burn down.

I’ve sent messages to the other tribes to stock their ships with sand. What I really want to know is why the raiders had it in the first place. Keep me updated, and be careful.

-Astrid

Feet dangling over the outcropping towards Tempy’s waterbed, I scratched the cyan Terror under the chin as she lounged on my shoulder. Hookie snored, wrapped around my back and tail sliding over the expanse. Tempy was asleep, too, even though the sun had risen, sending pale, rose light into the dozy nest.

Part of me was still really annoyed that Astrid was the acting Chief--that this letter could and probably should be taken as orders.

But, then again, I was the one out in the world investigating all of this, while she was stuck doing her “Chiefly” business on Berk. So who was the real winner here?

I wrote back a quick reply to let her know I’d gotten her message, wrapped the parchment up, and slid it into the cylinder attached to the Terror’s back. After a quick treat and more scratches behind the horns, I lifted my arm, sending her spiraling up and out of the nest.

With that done, I got to my feet, brushed myself off, and said, “C’mon, Hookie. We got work to do.”

He grumbled, eyes still closed. I just got up and walked away. A few moments later, I heard him realize I wasn’t there anymore, scramble to his feet, and scurry over. He huffed in disapproval, sending a warm waft of fish-smelling air over me.

Eret was sitting outside his tent, mulling over some maps. Anatoli lay at his side, grooming his scales.

“Hey,” I said. “Nice morning, right?”

“What do you want?” Eret grunted.

Right to it, then. I liked it that way.

“I want to be in charge of the team investigating the raiders.”

Eret and Anatoli’s heads snapped up.

“ You , being the leader? ” Eret repeated.

I tried not to scowl, but couldn’t keep myself from clenching my fists. “I’ve spent the past five years hunting them down with the others. I know how they work.”

“Except for their new weaponry? What was it you said the other day? That we’d be ‘done for’ if you managed to get hit with this... stuff? ” he gestured at the chest, which was now under guard by a couple of the nest’s dragons.

“It’s called Greek Fire,” I said. “Flammable when it hits water.”

He squinted. “And how do you know that?”

Obviously, I wouldn’t tell him that it was Astrid who told me. “I reached out to some buddies on Berk, and they got back to me.”

Eret grunted. “Well, I’m glad ya let Astrid know. If this is something we have to worry about on the regular, it’ll change how we approach these people.” He frowned at the chest for a while. With a sigh, he got to his feet and brushed himself off. “Let’s go for a walk, lad.”

Oh, great. A “wtalk”. Everyone knew what that meant: talking down to the other person like they were totally stupid.

I scowled. Why was I always the one who got these fun little chats? Whenever Astrid or Hiccup got stuck in this position, they always managed to make it work for them. Hiccup was the master of wriggling his way out of tough spots just by talking. Me, I preferred the tried-and-true method of “yell louder, punch harder”.

Wait…

This was easy! I just had to do what Hiccup did. And that meant being less…well… 

“Oh, c’mon, don’t give me that look,” Eret jibed at me.

I wiped the nasty look off my face. C’mon, Snotlout, what would Hiccup say?

The answer was: usually the worst thing to say.

“Sorry,” I said, and before I could think twice, admitted, “I just hate being talked down to like I’m some idiot. It happens all the time on Berk, and I can never prove myself.”

Eret stared at me, his expression unreadable. I flushed all the way up to my ears. Hiccup always made admitting his own weaknesses seem like...I don’t know. Not a strength, but it always somehow earned him respect, when any other person would get laughed out of the room or taken advantage of. I braced myself for the humiliation that was sure to come.

Eret walked over and clapped me on the shoulder. “Ya know what, lad? I can see how that can wear you thin.”

He shoved me along, and this time, I kept in step beside him. With Hookie trailing us, we wandered away from the encampment, up one of the tunnels of the nest that would eventually open on its peak.

“I’ll be honest,” Eret said, his voice echoing against the ice, “you’ve got quite the reputation preceding you.”

The way he said that made my shoulders sink. “Does everyone think I’m an idiot?”

Eret shrugged. “You’re not the type to think first, act later. You jump into the fray and trust that you--or someone else--will face off any problem that comes. There’s some value in that.” He looked at me sidelong. “But if it goes wrong one too many times...then yes, people will tend to call you stupid. Then, it looks shortsighted. It makes you seem untrustworthy.”

An enormous pit sucked my insides out. We were Vikings! We were the strongest, toughest guys around, and that came because of our way of fighting! We charged in and crushed our opponents. We didn’t need to strategize because our strength was so overpowering. What was the point of berserkers, then?

“So I’ll never even have a chance, is what you’re saying,” I ground out. Hookie whined behind me, pressing his nose to my back.

“Did ya hear me say any of that?” Eret said, shooting me a scolding look. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Or anyone’s, for that matter. You do that, a lot. ” When I looked away, properly cowed, he loosened his harsh tone. “What I’m saying is how you are perceived, and that there are strengths and weaknesses to that. It’s up to you to figure out how to work with it.”

“But how can I?” I said, struggling not to shout from the rising anger and resentment building in my chest. “You just said I seem untrustworthy! That’s super insulting, by the way!”

“Is it?” Eret asked, shooting me a dashing grin. “ Many people would call me untrustworthy.” He waved his hand. “But, that’s neither here nor there. What should you do if you’re worried people are nervous around you? That you can’t get things done right?”

“I show them I can!” I said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do!”

“That’s right. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you steppin’ up. I haven’t seen you sleep in even once.” Eret took us around a corner, and the ice caverns suddenly gave way to a stony cliff jutting out into the air, thousands of feet above the ocean below. We stepped onto the windy expanse, the chill wind bringing the promise of fall.

Eret stood with his hands on his hips, staring out at the rising sun. “Here’s the deal,” he said. “The team will be separated in two, each branching out in separate directions. One team will be co-captained by Cynbel and Thalos. The other will be you and me.”

“ YES! ” I screamed, jumping up and down in circles and throwing my fists in the air. Hookie snapped his head back and let loose an enormous flame, so brilliant that it could compete with the sun. He then promptly shielded us with his wings and globs of fire came raining down.

Eret smirked. “You won’t be so happy once you get into it. Leadership isn’t all it’s worked up to be.”

I assembled myself back into a proper position. Hookie stomped out a stray fire that was too stubborn to go out on its own. “What do you mean?”

His expression fell. Eret sighed, turning back to the ocean, and walked over to the cliff’s edge. He sat down on it, and I did the same.

“Bein’ in charge was something I always wanted, right up until it happened,” Eret admitted.

I balked. “ What? But you’re so...so...cool!”

His lip quirked upwards. “‘Course I am. That comes naturally.” He sobered. “The truth is, lad, is that when you’re in charge, everything comes down to you. The success of your mission. The safety of your men. Hell, even the food in their stomachs and the clothes on their back. If any one thing goes wrong, everything else follows, and it all falls on your shoulders.”

I almost said something, but waited.

“Don’t get me wrong--I love bein’ the captain,” Eret said. “The thing is, I can’t make everything perfect. Sometimes mistakes happen. Sometimes it’s your fault, sometimes it isn’t. But there’s always this creeping feeling that you could have changed something, somehow.” His shoulders slumped. “Back when we first caught your cousin and took him to Drago...he slaughtered one of my youngest crewmates right in front of us. It wasn’t his fault. He’d done nothing wrong. I was at fault there, and he paid the price.”

I shared a look with Hookie and then asked hesitantly, “Is that...the person Anatoli is named after?”

Eret nodded, his eyes distant. “He is. It was the least I could do to honor his sacrifice.”

We sat on that for a while.

 The Chief was the toughest, smartest Viking in the tribe. They were the ones everyone looked to in times of need. They were respected. They were needed. 

It was all I had ever wanted.

I hadn’t really thought about the other side of the coin, the consequences of being a bad leader. I remembered back when Hiccup had been changed, when the village was in turmoil. When Uncle Stoick was challenged left and right, even by Astrid. It was hard to imagine anyone protesting his leadership now the way they had then.

I especially remembered the fights at home. Mom and Dad getting into screaming matches about Uncle Stoick. Dad wanting to challenge him to be Chief, Mom furiously fighting him that it would rip our whole family apart. Both of them giving each other the cold shoulder afterwards. The fear and helplessness I had felt. The fury towards Toothless, as well as Hiccup, once I had decided he had gone traitor. I hadn’t told anyone about it, not even Astrid, because I was ashamed.

The Chief had been consumed by grief, and the entire village fell apart and blamed him for it.

But he didn’t walk away. He didn’t give people the cold shoulder. Neither had Eret when Anatoli had been murdered in front of him.

What would I do?

A chill went down my spine. Because, well, what had I shown that I would do?

Yell a lot. Walk away. Stonewall. Hold a grudge. Then it was always up to Hiccup or Astrid to pull me out of it.

Berk would kick me out of Chieftainship in a day if I acted that way.

“It’s impossible to be perfect,” Eret said, pulling me into the present. “But you have to come pretty damn close when you’re in charge.”

I unclenched my hands, wondering vaguely when I had balled them up so tight in the first place. “That’s why Astrid is acting Chief,” I mumbled. “She’s so strong and smart and...and... competent , and I’m... not .” My shoulders sagged. I stared at my hands. “I’m just the annoying asshole who tags along and tries to be important.”

Hookie gasped. He snapped a wing-talon out and pulled me close to him, growling at me, smoke curling between his teeth. I looked up at him with a small smile.

“Your dragon’s right,” Eret said. He was frowning now, a sharp crease across his forehead. “Don’t get so down. You were important yesterday. You got Tempy to listen to ya, and you got those dragons under control far quicker than we would have. That wasn’t nothin’.”

I shrugged. “I guess so. But…” I sighed. “I guess I can kind-of see why Hiccup would pick being a dragon, over dealing with stuff like that...with people like me.”

“Well, that’s not fair and you know it.” Eret got to his feet and dragged me by my tunic up with him. “Hiccup’s a dragon through and through. Always has been. I remember walkin’ in on him in the cages, hearin’ him growling and hissing at the dragons just like he was one of ‘em. It was spooky.” He jabbed my chest with his finger. “The only spooky thing here is your self-pity. Are you gonna sulk about feelin’ like a failure all day, or are you going to do something about it?”

I gave him a nasty look and swatted his hand away. The empty hole in me seemed to swallow more and more.

But you know what? I was tired of that.

So I shoved my anger and ambition right back at it and told it to knock it off. I was Snotlout, and I wasn’t going to sit back and do nothing. I was gonna use this opportunity to be the best Viking I could be. I was going to prove that I was worthy of the respect and value that everyone else had.

I met Eret’s eyes, a fire burning in my own. “I’m going to stop those raiders.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

nameless

Warmth. Moss-scent. Soft, deep breathing. Scales pressed to my hide.

The sensations bloomed as I crawled out of the nothingness of my sleep, as if I were lost Under and searching for a pocket of air. I would have drifted back into the deep cold—I somehow knew I already had several times before—were it not for the sound of flapping wings.

“How was it?” a dragon directly above me asked. Killed the Sea Serpent.

The other dragon sighed.

Killed the Sea Serpent tensed. Something pressed tighter against my side—a wing. “I told the fool to be silent on the matter.”

“It seems he decided that he knew better,” said the other dragon—Fought the Leader. Footsteps and gentle vibrations in the ground signalled her approach. “Saved the Swimlings never liked her—always complaining about having to swap responsibility with her, always saying she was late and shouldn’t be alone with the swimlings.” She paused. “Many of our flock see this as a bad omen.”

Killed the Sea Serpent snarled. “Of course they do. The fools. Why do they go looking for reasons to support this—this— superstition! ”

Fought the Leader’s voice was smooth and calm despite the rage reverberating through the nest. “What did cause it?”

Killed the Sea Serpent fell silent. Voice tight, she growled, “I don’t know. ”

I dared to peek my eyes open. All I saw was a dark, gray-blue smudge; Killed the Sea Serpent had drawn her wing completely over my head.

“So, what now, then?” Fought the Leader asked.

“I need to show them this foolishness for what it is.”

“Killed the Sea Serpent,” Fought the Leader said, “may I be blunt?”

She stuttered in surprise and said softly, “Of course, Fought the Leader.”

“You keep calling this superstition,” Fought the Leader said. “When she emerged from the Under for the first time, can you describe all of the events that happened? From the beginning?”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

“Can you just do it, please?”

With a sigh, she relented, “Raced the Auroras was the one who saw her emerge. She was worried about her small body and white scales. She could tell that she was blind. So she broke tradition and brought her to the rest of our flock. We didn’t…” her voice tightened, “…we didn’t know how to tend to her, and we had just lost Healed the Flightling, so we called for help from the other species.”

“And then what?”

“Why is this so important?” Killed the Sea Serpent snapped. “We all know what happened.”

“Because you have never addressed this one important thing,” Fought the Leader said sternly. “When she was brought before all of our flock and the other dragons, what happened? ”

Killed the Sea Serpent’s tone took on that of defeat, as if she had been fighting not to say it. “The world went dark and cold. All of the animals and insects went away. We looked up and saw that the sun had turned black from the moon. And then…”

She trailed off.

“…they disappeared,” Fought the Leader finished. “The sun and the moon disappeared , and we heard a terrible roar.”

She didn’t respond. I felt the wing press tighter against my body, which had suddenly run cold.

I remembered the day. The baffled concern of all the dragons surrounding me. Why was I like this, what had gone wrong with me? Why was I so small, so blind, the color of bone long-since polished by the sun? And then the cold and dark—suddenly I thought I was Under. I didn’t know it was strange until the terror and confusion strangled the kindness out of all the dragons around me. There was screaming that it was me. Omen. Curse. Fire. Many lunged forward to end my life where I stood, snapping gnarled teeth and raking their claws at a helpless flightling who had never known the Above.

Killed the Sea Serpent had dove over me and used her body as a shield, her wings a blanket of gray-blue, just as they were now.

“We thought the world was ending,” Fought the Leader murmured. “All of us.”

Killed the Sea Serpent gave a bitter laugh. “All of it lasted for only a few minutes. The crystals still glowed. Nobody mentions that anymore.”

“We still don’t know what caused it,” Fought the Leader said. “The sun and moon were gone , Killed the Sea Serpent! The first ones continued to live in that moment, but nothing else changed. The only thing that was unusual before it happened was her. And now, nobody knows if that will happen again, or if it will be permanent if it does. You must remember how easy it is to grasp for explanations for something so frightening. You know how Outsiders will say anything to justify their magic and fake gods; do you think that we are immune to the same kind of thinking?”

At the word magic , she stiffened. “No,” she growled. “I don’t.”

“So,” Fought the Leader said, “I’ll ask you again: what now?”

o.O.o

When I awoke the next morning, Killed the Sea Serpent was sitting at the entrance to her nest, the golden sunrise swirling in a light fog around her.

“You’re awake,” she said without the slightest hint of surprise. She turned her head towards me, her eyes the same color of the light pooling through the crystalline cavern. The luminescent scales on her neck glowed magenta. “No responsibilities for today.”

I blinked in surprise. It wasn’t unusual for dragons to simply spend time in the Shell, although they were responsible for their own hunting. It was unusual for Killed the Sea Serpent to pass up responsibilities, though.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked without really knowing why. I rose on shaky legs, grimacing as phantom pains streaked through my limbs.

“It’s not your fault,” Killed the Sea Serpent murmured. She stretched her wings, catching the light in them. “It never was.”

“What do you mean?” I said, brows furrowing.

She shook her head with a snort. “Just…the way the others treat you.”

I lowered my head. Without thinking, I blurted, “I overheard your conversation with Fought the Leader. I’m sorry.”

She actually laughed. “Oh, I know. You jerked like a flightling having a bad dream when you woke.” She glanced over at me. “But, I’m glad that you were honest. I will be as well. We both know this superstitious nonsense is rooted in… whatever happened that day. Fought the Leader was right, as usual.” She rolled her eyes in exaggerated exasperation before growing serious. “I need to set a thing or two straight.”

I crept over to her, head below hers and tail dragging on the ground. Sitting down beside another dragon felt like asking to be clawed away. I steeled myself and did it anyways, wincing from habit before calming myself. “I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for me,” I whispered. “But…what can you do?” Resting my eyes on my feet, I said, “I don’t want you to have to fight other dragons for me.”

“I am your leader,” she said. “That’s what I’m supposed to do.”

“But…” I grimaced, my mouth working and my tongue heavy, like the shameful words were fighting to go unsaid. “What if…what if I am a curse?”

She was silent. I risked a peek up at her and immediately regretted it. Her eyes were laced with sorrow, her brows drawn tight and ears and frills flattened against her skull. Guilt flooded through me—stupid, stupid of me to bring it up , to force her to try to justify why it wasn’t true, even as she opened her nest to me and cared for me when nobody else would.

“You are not a curse,” she said sternly. “Do you hear me? You are a good dragon. We just need to show the others what I have already seen, alright?” She gave me a short lick on the forehead, like I was a flightling. 

A shudder went through my body. Then guilt and dread. The simplest contact with another dragon lifted my spirits for hours, as sad as it was. Yet I felt like it was all a dream on the brink of shattering, leaving me feeling more alone than ever before, now that I had felt what it was to belong, even if only a little bit.

“Come on,” she said, opening her wings. She sprung from her nest and snapped her wings and tailfins into the sky-winds. I followed with my sight-sounds.

She took us away from our flock’s territory, which encompassed the very edge of the Shell. With the border’s opal mountains at our tails, we struck further inland, away from the ocean. We flew through the upper levels of the Shell, well within reach of the warm sunlight. Crystals and stone pillars jutted out of the stones at steep angles. Waterfalls fell onto plateaus, kicking up mist and forming lakes that flowed into smaller waterfalls. Trees waved their branches in the wind. Huge fields of long, flower-speckled grass rustled like a green ocean. Ocean-salt-scent mingled with the smells of greenery, fertile earth, and nectar. Bugs buzzed about, birds flitted about in their usual chirping panic…

…and dragons flew.

All flocks had their own territories. The Shell was so big, though, that there were areas between for everyone. There were even specific places that were for multiple flocks to gather, though I had never visited.

I stayed as close to Killed the Sea Serpent as I dared once I began to hear the voices and wingbeats of other dragons. Dragon-scent wafted on the wind, dozens of different species all together in these common-grounds. My sight-sounds bounced off of so many things that most dragons would have quit, but I was able to pierce through the chaos. There, a dragon of the same species as Defeated the Outsiders. A little below, resting on a pillar, a species that walked on two legs and shot spines from their tails. Tussling in an aerial play-fight above were young dragons shaped like our species, but with many spines, longer necks, and two tails.

Killed the Sea Serpent alighted on a sun-dappled field in the shadow of an enormous tree. A waterfall blasted into a lake several wing-beats away. The lake smelled of ocean, which meant that it was not safe to drink—but there was a good chance it had fish in it. It didn’t flow into another waterfall, so I knew there must be an outlet somewhere in it that led Under.

“Are you sure this is…safe?” I asked, remembering my last adventure into the Shell. My burns had healed, but the memory still stung.

“Of course,” Killed the Sea Serpent said in confusion. Then, remembering who she was speaking to, amended, “Ah, I see. As you know, all species have their own little territories throughout the Shell. However, most of it is open to all. It would be hard to wander into someone’s territory, and besides, I wouldn’t let you.”

I sniffed at the air, taking in all the dragon-scents. “It doesn’t smell like anyone in particular.”

“Exactly. And, listen,” she said.

Above the waterfall, wind, and bustle of the foliage, the sound of chattering dragons was just as loud as a flock of birds.

“I never…” I paused, taking it all in. Unnamed dragons needed escorts, so I had hardly spent any time wandering the Shell in all my seasons. I had thought it strange; but after the nameless male’s and my encounter with Defeated the Outsiders, I suspected it was also to protect young, ambitious dragons from causing trouble just to earn a name.

Killed the Sea Serpent was silent, waiting for me to gather my words.

“…I suppose,” I mumbled, “I’m not used to dragons being so kind to one another.”

She nodded, her expression forlorn. “Well, let’s see to getting you adjusted, then.”

We stayed on that pillar for some time, watching and listening to the dragons around us. It took me some time to sort it out through my sight-sounds, but, eventually, I realized that dragons of different species were all spending time together. It seemed completely alien to me, as a dragon who had spent all of her time within her flock, spurned from the others. The more I paid attention, the more I noticed all of the different kinds of dragons playing, flying, and eating together.

So when three dragons, all of them of different species, landed on our pillar, I was terrified—but prepared.

“Hello, Killed the Sea Serpent!” a female greeted.

“We’re not bothering you, are we?” another female asked.

The last one, a male, remained silent, a footstep behind the others.

“No, you’re not,” Killed the Sea Serpent laughed. “Have we met?”

“N-no, but we saw you fight all those suns ago!” the first dragon said.

“You were amazing!” the second added.

“And you!” the first said to me. “You’re the—”

The male cut her off with a hiss. I stepped closer to Killed the Sea Serpent, eyes low.

“What are your names?” Killed the Sea Serpent asked. She wrapped her tail around me, which eased some of the tension out of my muscles.

They introduced themselves: one female was Fed the Flock, another was Survived the Storm, and the male was…

“Escaped the Monsters,” he muttered, looking away. He was a four-legged species and he crouched low to the ground in a shut-in posture I was all too familiar with.

I looked up in confusion. Even my flock leader paused.

“Well,” she said, “that must have a story behind it.”

“I have an idea!” Survived the Storm said. “Let’s all hunt together, and we can share stories.”

“She wants to be a storyteller,” Fed the Flock explained. “Which means Escaped the Monsters and I have to suffer through the same stories over and over and over while she practices them.”

“You say you like them!” Survived the Storm cried, offended. “You owe me a fish, just for that!”

“Yes, Fed the Flock , you owe her a fish,” Escaped the Monsters approved. Through his serious tone, though, I could hear just a little bit of amusement.

Killed the Sea Serpent turned to me. “What do you think?”

I glanced up at the three blurry forms in front of me and focused on her golden eyes. She would keep me safe. So, even though every instinct in me screamed to politely decline and slink away, I said, “I…suppose…I’m hungry…”

“Perfect! I know exactly where to find a good fishing spot!” Survived the Storm cheered. She spread her wings and used her two powerful legs to launch herself upwards.

“Wait for us!” Fed the Flock squawked, right on her friend’s tail.

Escaped the Monsters let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, let’s see if she gets lost finding the fishing spot again.”

Our odd group meandered through the Shell. Crystals sprouting from pillars glowed as we passed them, some warming the air if we drew close enough. Other dragons travelled this way and that, and with each one that came close, I crept closer to Killed the Sea Serpent. The familiar smell of the ocean gave way to that of lush foliage and fertile soil, flowers, and the wild smokey-wind smell of dragons.

“So,” Killed the Sea Serpent said as we flew. “Who gets to go first?”

“Fed the Flock!” Survived the Storm said.

Her friend groaned. “Why don’t you go first? This was your idea!”

“I need to think of the best story! It’s not every day we get to hunt with a flock leader and…uh, well…”

I kept my eyes low.

“You are nameless, right?” Survived the Storm asked boldly.

“Don’t ask that!” Fed the Flock hissed.

I lurched in surprise. “Y-yes,” I whispered.

“Oh, thank goodness! Well—I’m sorry—it’s not that it’s good, I just worried you had a name and we hadn’t asked,” the dragoness said with all the casual ease of a conversation about the weather.

Nobody said anything, which put the pressure on me. I stammered, “W-well, you needn’t worry, then…”

“Oh, perfect! This is so exciting!” she cheered, doing a little spin midair. “I have so many questions for you!”

“Please excuse her,” Fed the Flock apologized. “She probably fell on her head as a flightling.”

“I sure did!” Survived the Storm sang. “Ask my clutchmates!”

I pinned my ears and somehow managed to hunch over midair. “I-i-it’s fine,” I stuttered. Why did Fed the Flock care if her friend was rude? Why was she apologizing to me?

“Are we almost there?” Escaped the Monsters interjected. “ Some of us are expecting food.”

“Where?” Survived the Storm asked. Then she jolted. “Oh! The fishing area! Yes, we’re, uh, almost there!”

We were not almost there. We flew around pillars, plateaus, and crystals, scaling over forests with enormous trees with canopies filled with tiny dragons. Eventually, we headed towards a lower part of the Shell, where the pillars were more loosely spread out. An arched bridge of stone stretched high overhead, wearing a dense curtain of vines. I tensed, remembering being tangled in the things all too well, and made sure that my wings and tailfins were firmly shut when I passed through them.

“Finally,” Fed the Flock groaned.

Below, a canopy of trees shifted and flowed like the waves of an ocean. It was a forest nestled on an enormous plateau, its grasping branches reaching far over the gaps leading deeper into the Shell below. In its center was a shimmering turquoise lake.

We swooped over it, drawing ripples across the reflective surface. It smelled of fresh water.

“Ah! There!” Killed the Sea Serpent called. She twisted, tucked her wings, and dipped into the water.

I snapped my wings to the side and dropped into the lake’s embrace. The water was cold, but not as much as I expected. Below, among freshwater plants waving in the currents, little glowing stones shimmered like the stars. They were crystals, keeping the water warm in the presence of dragons. Shadows darted between the lights and grass: fish.

Sight-sounding, I found Killed the Sea Serpent and began swimming parallel to her. The fish were all spread out, hiding in the water-plants, under crystals and stones, and burrowing into the silt.

Something below the mud caught my attention; the tiniest shifting in the elevation of the floor. I focused my sight-sounds on it. With all of my concentration on the patch of mud, I could feel changes in the density of the muck below. Little vibrations in little pockets…little heartbeats.

Stopping just before the patch, I opened my wings and strained them against the water. It felt like flapping with my wings covered in vines. A powerful current erupted from my stroke, hitting the silt and throwing it up in a cloud. Dozens of fish hiding below tumbled in the water, wriggling about in panicked dismay.

I darted in after them, corralling them towards Killed the Sea Serpent, heart hammering with excitement. She kept them bundled tight with my help. Together, we pushed them up towards the surface, taking every opportunity to chase any stray fish into the shoal. Soon, they were pressed against the blinding-bright surface, a mass of writhing shadows scrunching together and leaping out of the water.

The other dragons swooped from above, snapping their jaws in the water to catch their fill. Killed the Sea Serpent and I waited for all three to snatch their meal. With a piercing cry, my leader shot forward. I did the same, snatching fish as they scurried from their fate.

When we surfaced, my jaw was filled with food. I clamped my serrated teeth through their flesh and grinned around them, panting for breath.

“That was amazing!” Survived the Storm called from the shore. “I love hunting with your kind!”

We paddled over. As Killed the Sea Serpent dropped her fish down a safe distance from the water, she looked at me. “Good job finding those fish,” she said. “I hadn’t noticed them when I passed over there.”

“So we have you to thank for the food!” Fed the Flock said, although she seemed to be looking at Killed the Sea Serpent instead of me. I was just close enough to see the suggestive way her eyes darted between my leader and myself.

I ducked my head self-consciously. “Oh, I’m sure you would have found them,” I said.

“Maybe not,” Killed the Sea Serpent said. When I did nothing but shoot a meek glance up at her, she chuckled and said, “Well, Fed the Flock, you were going to tell the first story, right?”

Fed the Flock let out all the air in her lungs in a huge sigh. “ Fine ,” she said. She slurped up the remains of the fish she was eating and chewed thoughtfully. “Hm…how about…oh! I heard this one from a storyteller when I had just finished my flightling lessons.”

I lifted my ears, squinting so that I could see her better. 

The storytellers of the Shell kept our history. They passed all they knew from one dragon to the other, memorizing each tale word-for-word so that the passage of time would not alter them. They spent most of their time within the Shell, traveling from group to group and visiting flightlings.

The stories enamored me, but I did everything I could to avoid them. Their most recent tales involved the disappearance of the sun and moon…as well as me.

“There was once a time when the Shell walls were higher,” she began. “When the…the…uh…”

“When the forests were still young,” Survived the Storm supplied. “And before seeds drifted on the sea-winds to bring us flowers and grasses.”

“Do you want to tell the story?” Escaped the Monsters grumbled. His friend chuckled, shoving her shoulder against his.

“Right, before the seeds flew over,” Fed the Flock said, sounding relieved to have help. “It’s said that the edges of the Shell formed a real egg-shape in the sky. There was a single hole torn into it, where the fake gods pierced the Shell too early, taking its power with them and dooming us dragons to be small and mortal.”

I tilted my head, interested now. I had not heard this story before. I did not know dragons were not meant to die.

“But some of the dragons began to grow into giants,” Fed the Flock continued. “Because this story is also the story of the giant dragons.”

“I love this part!” Survived the Storm whispered to us, wiggling in place.

“Shh!” Escaped the Monsters said.

Fed the Flock laughed. “You love every part of these stories. So…for several seasons, only a few dragons were growing. But as they got bigger and bigger, while all the other dragons remained small, it became clear that something was amiss. Even more, it became harder for them to hide, and they began eating more and more of what food was in our home. The little dragons began to keep a close eye on them, creeping after them in the dark. So, one day, when the giant dragons thought nobody was able to see them…they were caught.

“The giants snuck to the opening of the Shell, snatched some of it in their great jaws, and gobbled it up.”

I gasped. To eat the Shell—the last vestige of the first ones—their protective embrace of all our kind—and only to grow big!

Fed the Flock nodded. “I know,” she growled. “They were traitors to us all. But the little dragons forgave them and decided to guard the opening. Those dragons became the first ever to do patrol responsibility. The giant dragons were scornful, but did not eat the Shell anymore. They stopped growing. The relationship between giant and little dragon was strained, but peaceful, although the little dragons never forgot that the giant ones were willing to sacrifice safety for power.”

At my side, Killed the Sea Serpent shook her head with a sigh.

“So…life went on. Dragons were forced to spend all their time fishing in the pools and Under. There were hardly any plants or mushrooms at all. It was hard to find food for everyone, now that the giant dragons were so big. They languished on the edge of starvation always. But the dragons knew that the first ones had not left them to die, and kept faith that more fish would return.

“But the giant dragons posed a problem again. They ate all the food and took up so much space. When they fought each other over meals, they trampled the crystals, mountains, and little dragons underfoot. The ones that flew claimed to be burdened by the Shell, trapped with no sky to fly in. And so…the giants decided that they were big and strong enough to survive outside the Shell. They knew they would become Outsiders once they left, but they chose their fate. They turned their backs on the first ones and their hatching-grounds and ventured Outside.”

I balked, eyes wide. Even during the worst of it, I had endured my low status among my flock and kin. The thought of choosing to leave the Shell was alien, sinful. A shudder crept over my body. To leave, to become outcasted, would be to plummet into the cruelty of the outside world and fake gods.

It was a fate worse than death.

“Stupid, weren’t they?” Fed the Flock said, no doubt noticing my expression. “You can almost pity them, but if they had just waited…anyways! The big dragons were met with a world stolen from the first ones. A world where fake gods ruled above all and scorned the dragons of the Shell. Some welcomed the heresy and became some of the first dragons to…eugh…use their magic. But some were horrified by what they saw. There were lands that blocked the ocean and went on and on without end, with hardly anywhere to swim and fish at all. There were monsters, creatures that hunted them , like they were the prey. There were places where there was no life at all, great canyons of stone or ice. So, many of the fools decided to return.”

Escaped the Monsters snorted derisively. Survived the Storm shook her body as if to deflect the thought. I glanced at Killed the Sea Serpent, who was close enough for me to make out her expression.

She looked…forlorn. I tilted my head, but had no more time to think on it before Fed the Flock continued her story.

“The dragons who stayed true to the first ones did not take pity on them. Though the giant dragons could scoop them up and swallow them all whole, they told them that they had made a choice, and a bad one. They and their offspring must live with it forever. Well, the big ones weren’t happy about that. So they tried to force their way in.

“They attacked with fire, ice, boiling water, magma, brute force, everything!” She flared her wings, forcing Escaped the Monsters to duck. “The little dragons tried to hide in the Shell…but it is only a Shell. It began to crack under the assault, and with every piece that was chipped away from a traitor rather than the egg-teeth that should have been, the little dragons grew more and more angry. So when the Shell finally cracked and tumbled into pieces below, the little dragons were ready. They took flight, swarming around the falling remnants of the first ones, and together, across the entire Shell, horizon to horizon, they fought back!” 

She rose as tall as she could on her two legs, as if she had just emerged to battle herself.

“With all the dragons of the Shell working together, they drove the giant dragons away, scorning them twice over for their foolish decisions. The giant dragons were doomed to a lifetime of hunger and savagery. By holding true to their ways, the little dragons had won! ”

Killed the Sea Serpent shifted. The interested expression on her face was so fake that even I could see it. Her ears were pressed flat to her skull and her wings were tense at her side. She glanced over at me and must have seen the worried confusion in my eyes, because she shook her head like it was covered in water and straightened up.

“And…that’s it,” Fed the Flock ended the story suddenly.

“No, it’s not!” Survived the Storm squawked.

Fed the Flock pawed at the ground sheepishly. “That’s the exciting part, anyways. Which is what I remember.”

“Ugh! I’ll finish it,” Survived the Storm said. She rose dutifully–then spun on her feet, snapping her wing and tails open. “It was a bitter victory!” she exclaimed. “The little dragons fell back into the Shell, weeping over the shattered pieces covering all of the land. They thought that they were no longer protected, that their home was destroyed. But…”

She waited.

“But?” Escaped the Monster sighed. I tried to suppress a smile, but failed.

“ But the dragons soon discovered that the first ones had left them one final blessing!” Survived the Storm said. “The Shell remnants broke into tiny pieces, dissolving into the soil. Like a real egg, the Shell was meant to nourish—not dragons, but other forms of life which we depend on! With the Shell reduced to cliffs on the water, seeds were able to fly into the valleys with their new soil. Plants began to sprout, bringing birds and bugs and fish with them. Food became plentiful. And so, even though the big dragons betrayed everyone in the Shell and destroyed our home, the first ones still provided for those of us who held faith in them. We came into the world fully that day, truly ready, even if not in the way the first ones intended.”

My smile faded. Something about the ending seemed…off.

“What?” Fed the Flock asked me. “Did you not like the story?”

I looked down. “It was wonderful,” I whispered.

“Well, then why are you frowning?”

“W-well…” I stuttered. “It just seems strange to me. The big dragons needed to be exiled for all of that to happen. Why didn’t the Shell fall earlier?”

Fed the Flock paused, considering, and turned to Survived the Storm. “Well, future storyteller?”

“An excellent question!” she exploded. “I was hoping someone would ask that!”

“Oh, here we go,” Escaped the Monsters said.

“There is a lot of debate among storytellers on that subject,” Survived the Storm said. “But what it comes down to is the core of it: why was there no food?”

She waited long enough to force me to answer.

“Because the big dragons were eating it all,” I mumbled, flicking my gaze between her blue eyes and the ground.

Survived the Storm nodded. “And why were they eating everything?”

“Because…they ate the Shell and got so big?” I asked, confused now. The story had been very clear.

“That’s right,” Survived the Storm said. “They chose themselves over everyone else. A decision made by a few dragons out of thousands changed the fate of all. If they hadn’t used the Shell to grow so big, then food would have been plentiful. But they did. And so the Shell needed to fall, but not just for food. The little dragons needed to learn their own strength when they worked together. They needed to learn the importance of community and sacrifice. And they needed to learn about consequences…especially the consequences of accepting the Outside and the fake gods.”

“I…see,” I said, turning the thought over in my head. It seemed to make sense. The giants were selfish to try and force themselves above the others, after all. In doing so, they made themselves the lowest of all dragons, and raised the little dragons that they had tried to overpower far above them. Another thought—a frightening one—came to mind, and I asked, “Where are the giants now?”

“Some have tried to return,” Killed the Sea Serpent said. “But not in my lifetime. They are driven off just like any Outsider.”

I shuddered. To think, all this time later, the giants remained, always hungry, always wanting in…

“Well, that was a very good story,” Killed the Sea Serpent said, her voice a little curt. She turned to Escaped the Monsters and asked, “What I’m curious about is your story. The story of your name.”

Whenever a dragon earned a name, the storytellers in that area would learn the tale and spread it. Because of the sheer number of dragons in the Shell, though, only the names of important dragons were carried on. Still, every dragon was given the privilege of having their memory presented to others.

Which meant that when Escaped the Monsters spoke, hunched over and avoiding our gazes, it was a big disappointment.

“There was once a dragon who flew too far from his flock on patrol responsibility. He was hunted by monsters. Through sheer luck alone, a strong storm defeated the monsters and he was able to escape. The end.”

 “…I see,” Killed the Sea Serpent said, eyes flicking to the others.

The silence stretched out between all of us. Unlike me, Escaped the Monsters bore through it, refusing to be pressured into speaking.

“What…” I flinched when he snapped his head up to glare at me. “…what are the monsters?”

He glared for a moment longer before ducking his head. “They look like walking saplings,” he growled. “They stand like a two-legged dragon, but one that is stiff and hurt. Their entire bodies are flat and thin, like a sea-worm. Their legs hang from their shoulders. Their pelts are patchy, with fur in some places, scales in others, and squishy fleshy stuff, too. Their faces are flattened like they were pressed into a stone, and their eyes…” he shuddered. “…their eyes look deep into you, like they can see your thoughts. They have no wings, no tails, no spines, but they can sprout claws from anywhere, and they can bite you even when they are far away.”

Throughout his description, I sunk lower and lower, back arched and wings and tail drawn in. “What do you mean?” I whimpered.

“I can’t explain it,” he said, “but when I flew close to them on their…their… thing , they looked at me and…and bit me! When I looked down, a tooth made of stone was buried in my leg.”

“They have stone teeth?” I said.

He nodded. “Stone teeth and claws. But it’s different stone. It’s shiny, like the crystals. But instead of making you warm, it makes you cold…so cold.” He looked down. In a lost tone, as if he had forgotten we were there, he went on, “They put me in a giant jaw. The teeth closed around me, but it didn’t swallow me. I could see through the teeth, and they stared at me and squawked like birds. When the storm came, I knew that it would swallow me, so I used all of my strength to break free. I hurt my wing-shoulder badly and barely made it home. Still…every time the storms come, I think of that night…”

Survived the Storm and Fed the Flock bustled close to him, offering warmth and safety. He didn’t shrug them off, instead leering at something on the ground. A pang of jealousy shot through me.

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” I said, pushing the unfair emotion off, ears and frills pinned back. “I wish you hadn’t.”

Escaped the Monsters sighed. “I do, too. But the storytellers like my name-story and use it to warn other dragons about the monsters, so at least something came from it.”

His bitter tone showed just how grateful he was for that. Why couldn’t it have been someone else? He seemed to say instead.

I knew the feeling. I looked down at my paws with nothing to say. There wasn’t anything to say. Terrible things still happened in the Shell, and some dragons seemed…

…cursed.

“How about another story!” Survived the Storm said with false enthusiasm. “You, how about you go?” she pointed her nose at me. “I want to hear your story.”

“I don’t have a name, though,” I said, surprised.

“Oh, I know! That’s why your story is so exciting!”

“Go on,” Fed the Flock encouraged me. Her genuine curiosity melted away, and she said with poorly-disguised caution, “You must have something to say about that day, right?”

I glanced at Escaped the Monsters, who still seemed distant. I caught just the slightest hint of fear-scent from his direction.

My voice barely louder than a breath, I began, “There was once a dragon born blind and small, scales white as bone…”

o.O.o

And with the painful memories came a new one, an old one, long-since forgotten, recalled only through heavy concentration, like discovering a fish hiding in the mud.

A hatchling, egg-tooth lying beside her jaw, sticky with the dried amnion of her egg, lay sprawled on the cold stones of the tunnel Under. Forgotten pieces of eggshells lay scattered around her, each piece shimmering in the crystal-light like a speck of a star. If her eyes were not still glued shut, she would have seen footprints, both large and new, in the moss.

She used all the energy in her body to raise her head, trembling atop her baby-bird-thin neck, and let out a thinning mewl.

It echoed into the depths, and her head thumped to the moss.

She was exhausted and couldn’t move, frail little thing, born late beyond hope, left behind.

Time’s passage was marked by the dimming of the crystal at her side. As her soul drained from the world, so too did the first ones’ glow and warmth.

When crystal and hatchling both were nothing more than the flickering of a dying ember, the water shifted. A dragon popped their head above the water and sniffed at the air. With a breathless gasp, they tore across the water, kicking up enormous waves.

The crystal flared. The dragon licked desperately at the hatchling.

“No no no no…no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they wept, nosing the cold little hatchling. “I can’t be too late, I can’t be, no no no, please, please…no…no… live , please, you must live, or it was all for nothing…please…

“…please…”

o.O.o

“…and so, since that day, the dragon was alone, even when the teachers were forced to train her to fly, nameless and…”

I faltered, snapping open eyes I had not realized were closed. The others had grown silent as I described my story: the day I became a flightling, the day that the sun and moon disappeared. As the words came tumbling out of my mouth, simple and emotionless as a reflex, something had shifted in the deep murk of my head, kicking up a cloud I’d never known was there.

“And…?” Survived the Storm pressed eagerly.

My head was still spinning. What was that? A dream, barely remembered? A story I heard long ago?

“Unwanted,” I said without thinking, still lost in a daze, like I was trying to fly underwater.

The moment I breathed the word, I stiffened. So did Killed the Sea Serpent and the other three.

“…o-oh,” Survived the Storm said. She shifted on her feet, but did not move over to me. “Well…that’s much different from how I’ve heard other storytellers describe it.”

“Of course it is,” Killed the Sea Serpent grunted, her voice hard. “ They like to make it sound like…”

“Like she did it,” Escaped the Monsters finished. He looked up at me. “But…you really didn’t, didn’t you?”

The surprise in his voice sent a wave of hot, helpless anger through me, burning in my heart. I swallowed it, tail thumping on the ground, before I got control of myself and lowered my head and ears submissively. “Of course not,” I mumbled. “I was just a flightling.”

The three dragons all looked at each other. I shrunk low to the ground, no longer comforted by Killed the Sea Serpent’s tail wrapped around me.

“Well!” Survived the Storm said, rustling her wings. “I’m going to talk to my mentor about this. It’s just not right, spreading lies.”

I snapped my head up.

“You—you don’t blame me?” I gasped, wanting so badly for it to be true, fearing like nothing else that it wasn’t.

“Doesn’t seem like I should,” Survived the Storm said as if it were common sense. “A small little meek thing like you, destroying the sun and moon? Now that I’ve actually met you, I want to laugh at the idea.” She snickered. “But I wanted to hear your side myself. I wanted to ask how, why, and why stay afterwards? But now I see how silly that was.”

“Silly,” I repeated. My heart pounded in my ears. I closed my eyes and took in one long, calming breath after the other until I trusted myself to speak again. “Well, I…I…I appreciate you believing me.” I looked at the space where I hoped her eyes were. “Truly.”

“We both do,” Killed the Sea Serpent said. She wrapped one of her wings around me. “You are a good dragon, and these superstitions have hurt you deeply, but that does not make you unwanted. These dragons enjoyed spending time with you.” She looked at them and implored, “Right?”

“Yeah!” Survived the Storm said. “You liked our stories!”

“And you helped feed us,” Fed the Flock said. “And you tolerated Survived the Storm.”

“Hey!”

Escaped the Monsters simply lifted his head. Though I could not truly see him, I knew he met my eyes as he nodded.

I worked my mouth, but nothing came out. My throat thickened, this time with a different emotion altogether. “I…I…thank you,” I choked out, hating how my voice shook and hitched.

For once, Survived the Storm paused to consider her words. “The pleasure is ours,” she said, her voice soft and ponderous.

Killed the Sea Serpent leaned closer to me as I shuddered and forced myself to breathe deeply, in and out, counting the seconds in between. “Now,” she said, drawing attention to herself, “let’s share the rest of our stories.”

o.O.o

Killed the Sea Serpent told a story she had heard as a flightling: how the first generation of dragons was graced with fire by recovering some of the sun that the fake god had stolen.

Throughout the story, I desperately tried to collect myself. But my mind was clouded as if I was trapped in mushroom spores. 

They didn’t think it was my fault. They didn’t hate me.

And, long ago, another dragon had come to me and shown me kindness, as they had. The strange…memory?…that I had sight-sounded in my mind had not faded. It was still vague, mysterious, dreamlike. But I was certain it was real.

Most of what I remembered from my hatchling-times were the warmth of the caretakers and the comfort of my clutchmates. By the time I grew into a swimling, my memories were much more clear. They certainly didn’t involve adult dragons making an effort to keep me safe. Down Under, I was just the same as any other swimling unless I was brought into the light. That would cause a stir among our flock’s caretakers, but the blatant outcasting only happened after that horrible day.

What else had I forgotten? Who was the dragon who had come back for me?

In that foggy, half-asleep memory, a dragon had cared for me before the curse. If dragons could still care for me afterwards…

I tried to close my heart to the hope that lit within it, a tiny flame on a kindling of naivety. Part of me wanted to snuff it out before I got burned. The other part of me wanted to set it free and let it rage.

“Now it’s my turn!” Survived the Storm crowed, drawing me back to the present. “Anyone have any requests?”

I shook my head, still lost in the unexpected relief and confusion. The other two did as well.

Killed the Sea Serpent, on the other wing, nodded exuberantly. “Yes,” she said. “Something I’ve been wanting to ask since you told us you were studying to be a storyteller.” Without so much as a glance towards me, she mused, “I’ve always wondered, where do the glowing mushrooms come from?”

My breath caught in my throat. I tried not to stare at my flock’s leader. By now, most of our flock probably knew what had happened. I hoped that it wouldn’t spread to the other species, but what if these kinds of questions made it more obvious?

Survived the Storm’s elated body language deflated. “Oh, those?” she said. Shaking herself off, she puffed up and said, “Well, a storyteller always has a lesson! And I guess those are kind of interesting!”

Despite myself, I sat up higher and lifted my ears. I straightened my back and clamped my wings tight to my sides. Although Killed the Sea Serpent looked much more relaxed, she could not hide the intensity in her eyes.

“The origin of the mushrooms has been lost to time,” Survived the Storm began. “But we still have our legends, and we know from them around when the mushrooms began to appear in the Shell. It was after the Shell was broken by the giants, but before the first leaders of the dragon species came to power. Our stories begin mentioning glowing mushrooms appearing in the shadows, and they are usually mentioned to be near crystals. Most stories describe the carpet of mushrooms we see deep in the bottom layers of the Shell, which suggests that they spread quickly when they appeared.”

“Do we know what they are for?”

Survived the Storm shrugged. “Some say that they are just mushrooms whose spores flew into the Shell with the seeds. Some say that they come from the first ones, or that they’re even the living forms of the crystals.”

“Why the relationship with the crystals?” Killed the Sea Serpent asked.

“That is a very good question!” Survived the Storm said. “Nobody knows.”

Fed the Flock piped up, “Why would the first ones give them to us? They don’t taste good.”

“But they can be eaten,” Survived the Storm said. “Maybe they are there in case the Shell ever runs out of food again.”

“Or maybe there is no reason at all,” Escaped the Monsters said. “Sometimes things just happen.”

Killed the Sea Serpent looked at me for the first time since bringing up the topic. It was quick, but unmistakable. “I don’t think that’s the case with the mushrooms. They are the only plant here that glows like the crystals.”

“Yes, that has to mean something,” Fed the Flock said.

“Or it can still mean nothing,” Escaped the Monsters argued.

“You could be right, both of you,” Survived the Storm said. Bouncing on her feet, she exclaimed, “Oh, I love this! It’s so fun to look into our stories!”

“Hey, what do you think?” Fed the Flock asked me. In a soft voice, like she was speaking to a flightling, she said, “Everyone’s given their opinion except you.”

My ears stuck straight up. She wanted to hear my opinion? I cleared my throat and said, “I…think they have a reason.”

A bad one, I didn’t add on.

“And with a reason, comes intent!” Survived the Storm said. “So, what do we all think the intent was?”

Escaped the Monsters groaned. “Now you’ve done it,” he told the rest of us. “ Philosophy. ”

They went on, Survived the Storm bringing up more and more vague topics. Somehow, the conversation evolved into something about free will and the true nature of perfectly-perfect things, although I hadn’t the slightest clue how it got there or what it even meant.

But something the future storyteller said did catch my ear.

With reason, comes intent.

The obscure memory, almost something outside of myself, like it was extracted from another dragon. The sun and moon disappearing. My blindness, small shape, odd scales. The illness the mushrooms had inflicted on me. The dragon that had found me as a hatchling and saved my life. The curse.

All of it was so much. Too much. There had to be a reason.

So, why?

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Toothless

“Come on! You have to at least try. ”

“I just don’t think it’s possible, Hiccup.”

“I can do it.”

“Yes, but you’re…like this. ”

“Try? Please?”

I couldn’t help but share a grin with Hiccup, glancing over at a very bemused King. He gripped one of Haugaeldr’s winding horns in his paw. His uncomfortable, awkward expression was a mirror of the same look I had seen on Hiccup countless times.

Nothing but flat, smooth ocean swept by below, punctuated by the occasional splash of a whale or sea dragon. I had set a grueling pace for us—one that Hiccup and the King had forced me to slow down for Haugaeldr’s benefit. Now, we made sure to wake early, set out fast, and fly until the sun spun up and over us and then set to our westward side. It had been a few days, but the desire to fly as fast as I could still gripped me to my bones.

Haugaeldr turned his long, serpentine neck all the way around to look at the King, careful not to smack him with his horns. With his delicate, long snout inches in front of the King’s face, he shouted, “It is not as though Hiccup has a human body, but dragon vocal chords. Try!”

“ T-r-y! ” I added, joining in just for the sake of it. I had never seen the King so uncomfortable -looking. Quite frankly, given the subject at wing, it was hilarious.

“Fine,” he grunted, shoving Haugaeldr’s head forward. Haugaeldr retaliated by arching his neck back and  flapping his long ears at him, batting him along his head with them. “I said fine! But don’t laugh at me.”

“Oh, I can’t promise that,” I said. Hiccup tugged on my ear. “Ow!” I cried out in fake agony.

The King took a deep breath. He shuffled where he was seated, his eyes flicking to and fro out on the horizon and his jaw set. “H-how does it go again?” he eventually asked.

Hiccup beamed. “ K-i-n-g ,” he drew out meticulously.

The King cleared his throat. Opened his mouth. Swallowed. Cleared his throat again.

Haugaeldr jostled him by ducking up and down as though he were tracing the ocean waves, sending his snakelike form coiling in loops. “Come on! If you won’t do it, then Hiccup and I can work on our phonetics guide. We’ve only gotten some of it down!”

That had been exceptionally boring to listen to after the glamor of it had faded. There were only so many hours of Hiccup, Haugaeldr, and I repeating the same sounds over and over and over that I could take. I never let a word of complaint slip past my lips, though.

Hiccup had dove into his “book” of...eugh…“ Dragonese ” with the same manic fervor as Haugaeldr. It seemed he only had room in his mind for two topics: the other Shadow-Blenders, and learning how to teach humans dragon-speech.

I couldn’t help but feel that the first was the cause for the second.

“Come on, Dad!” Hiccup encouraged him. “Say it right after me. K-i-n-g. ”

The King took in one last breath. His expression hardened with determination.

He squawked like a seagull.

I burst out laughing.

Hiccup tugged at my ear. “Well, it’s not like you’d get it right away. It didn’t sound that bad.”

“Toothless seems to think differently,” the King grumbled.

“I didn’t get anything right on the first try,” Hiccup said. “Toothless used to constantly tease me for sounding like a hatchling. But if you practice, it’ll come much easier.”

“I suggest we take a more standardized approach,” Haugaeldr interrupted. “You learned by intuition and blunt translation, Hiccup. And you already had a fairly good idea of the different variety of Dragonese phonetics. But now that we are working on mapping them out individually, I think you should teach him the opposite way you learned: sounds and overtones first, supplemented with words, and grammar second. Not the other way around.” He smiled sympathetically. “If I may be blunt, you seem to have taken the hardest possible path to learn it.”

“Hiccup does everything the hard way,” I teased.

“ But we also didn’t have a system, then ,” Hiccup said, pointedly ignoring my comment. “ And we were desperate for me to just learn. But that is a good point. Dad, Haugaeldr was just saying…”

As he described the new plan to teach the King Dragonese, his father’s doubtful expression loosened somewhat. My eyes dragged unbidden to the horizon, as had become more and more of a habit. I could almost imagine the Shadow-Blenders there, just over the curve of the ocean against the sky, little silhouettes fluttering in the light…

Wait.

I narrowed my eyes.

Those weren’t imagined!

“Dragons ahead!” I called.

Whoever they were, they seemed to spot us as well. It was a small flare of five dragons. They turned and flew towards us, two rising to gain the advantage of altitude and the other three spacing into a point formation. As they drew closer, their species became clearer: Lightning-Dancers. Even now, I could spot that strange, purplish flash of power rippling from their maws.

Fear, sudden and cold, swept over me. They were moving to attack. Out here in the middle of the ocean, far from our nestmates with no return expected soon, we were outnumbered, encumbered, and without hope of rescue.

“Haugaeldr, to me!” I snapped. For once, he was obedient, hurrying close to me with a mixture of excitement and fright on his face.

“ Easy! ” Hiccup tried to soothe us. “Maybe they’re friendly.”

I wasn’t going to wait to find out. “We mean no harm!” I shouted ahead to them. Haugaeldr began to ease into a hover, and I let out a sharp hiss at him to stop. If we needed to outfly them, those precious moments of shifting between hover and flight would make all the difference.

“You are in our territory, stranger!” challenged the lead Lightning-Dancer. “Turn back at once or—!”

She reared as if struck, eyes wide, and backpedaled midair. Her two companions did the same.

“What—” another, a male, gasped, “What are those—why are there—”

“ It’s okay! ” Hiccup called with a soothing overtone. “ We mean no harm. ”

“It speaks?!” the leader whispered. A horrified shudder shook her from nose to tailtip. “What...what is this?! Why does it speak? Why do you lower yourselves to them?”

“They’re even carrying their…things!” the third dragon cried, her high-pitched voice revealing her young age. “Look!”

By this point, the dragons had circled away from us. Unwilling to expose our backs to them, I lead us in a spiral around them as well.

“We are no pack animals!” I snarled. “Nor are we tame! We are the Saviors, and we are in search of other Shadow-Blenders. Please allow us to continue south, and we will be out of your scales soon enough.”

“ Saviors? ” the youngest repeated, glancing at us with more curiosity.

The leader, however, narrowed her eyes. She snapped her jaws, sending little jolts of lightning sputtering about her. “Any dragon can make such claims. Prove it!”

“Soulfire isn’t some fancy trick to show off,” I said. I glanced up at the two flying above. They had closed in a little, tipping their wings and tails in dozens of tiny adjustments so that any strike would land true.

“ Look! ” Hiccup said, drawing their eyes to him. There was a SNAP! followed by a rustling of leather, and when I turned my head to look, he had his wings open and extended. “ Do you know any other human who can do this? ”

The leader inched her nestmates away further. Her nose wrinkled and she lifted her upper lip to show teeth. “So it even steals dragon flight, too,” she whispered, her voice curling with revulsion.

“That’s enough!” I snapped. “We only want to fly south. If you are so disgusted by one of the Saviors who brought the sun and moon back to our world, then we will be gone quickly.”

“Can you even call yourselves dragons, to be brought so low?” she rumbled. “We should kill the monster where it wraps around you.”

Hiccup flinched.

I snarled, showing all my teeth. Haugaeldr did the same. The King slowly closed a paw on his hammer, though he did not draw it yet, no doubt wary of provoking an all-out charge.

“ Hold on! Please! ” Hiccup cried. But the moment he spoke, the dragons twisted even further away, eyes huge and horrified and fearful as they took him and his dragon-self in.

“What if they truly are the Saviors?” the young Lightning-Dancer asked. “What if they breathe soulfire on us?”

“I’m having second thoughts about proving it,” I sneered.

“ Please ,” Hiccup begged, his overtone now a mixture of fright and hurt and forced-soothing. “ We’ll leave. Just let us go, and we’ll leave. We don’t need to fight. ”

“Unless you want to see how outmatched you are,” I growled, trying to blanket the tremble of fear in my voice with a rattle of fury.

The Lightning-Dancer leader was silent for a moment. Then, with a hiss, she flicked her wings and shot above us. “We’ll see to it,” she said. “And in the future, if you ever come near us with that... thing , then we won’t be so merciful.” She flapped her wings in a flurry, taking her far above us, and her nestmates followed. Only when they were high enough to stoop into deadly dives, did they stop and return to their pointed formation.

My muscles twitched with anticipation of an attack. We were completely vulnerable. Only a very experienced dragon could swoop away from a diving dragon at full speed. Especially a Lightning-Dancer, dragons renowned for their ability to strike from the shadowy clouds with sudden, deadly efficiency. Hiccup and I could manage—but Haugaeldr and the King? They were sheep sleeping on their feet, just begging to be snatched up.

We turned back south and burst into a breakneck speed. Nobody spoke under the oppressive stare of the Lightning-Dancers, who even at this distance, we could hear snarling with disbelief and disgust.

o.O.o

We did not find an island to land until the moon had risen halfway into the sky. It was small; more of a glorified sea stack with a few trees and bushes growing on it. It was high enough above the ocean that we wouldn’t be washed away, and there was stone to warm and curl up on.

We set up a fire, and Haugaeldr and I spent an hour or so fishing. We came back with more than enough for Hiccup and the King. Neither of them ate more than a good-sized fish, no matter how much I pestered them to eat more. No wonder humans needed to eat all the time, when they hardly ate at all during meals.

Haugaeldr nervously tried to chat. The King stared thoughtfully into the fire. Hiccup gave subdued, noncommittal responses whenever he was prompted. I merely sat close to my brother, shooting quick glances at him every now and then. Eventually, the dreariness was too much even for Haugaeldr, and he stopped talking.

“That was too close.”

I actually jumped, having gotten used to the heavy silence. The King reached out a paw and patted my shoulder in one of his strange “supposed to be comforting” gestures.

“We’ll have to avoid other dragons,” Hiccup said, his voice low and toneless.

“Perhaps one of us could fly a little ahead whenever we meet another group,” Haugaeldr suggested. “Surely most dragons in this area have heard of the Saviors, whose nest lives in peace with humans.”

I shook my head. “Lightning-Dancers are always territorial.” I waited for Hiccup to translate, and continued, “But I agree—I’d rather not get caught by a patrol as big and capable as that one.” I nudged Hiccup. “But I don’t think we have to avoid every dragon we meet.”

He didn’t meet my eye, picking at his fire-roasted fish. The King hadn’t let him eat it raw.

I glanced up at the King. He gave me a knowing look and nodded.

“Hiccup, let’s...go over there,” I pointed to the farthest edge of the sea stack, which was only a few wing-lengths away inside a copse of trees. He didn’t get up right away, so I snatched his scruff in my maw and pulled him afoot.

“ Ah! ” he yelped. “ I’m coming, I’m coming. ” He rubbed at his neck as if it had actually hurt. Which I knew it didn’t.

We walked over to the other edge of the island and sat down with our paws dangling over the ledge. The moon was bright, shimmering pale blue upon the ocean. The spirits of dragon-auroras weren’t out tonight, but the starlight-footsteps of the Dragoness of the Moon shone in splendor.

Hiccup sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest.

We sat in comfortable silence for some time, watching the steady chaos of the ocean waves. A storm sunk low to the horizon, too far to even hear the thunder. Bright purple flashes zipped through it—no doubt the Lightning-Dancers hunting or fighting in their territory.

“They said very wrong things today,” I murmured, wrapping my tail around him.

“ ...yeah ,” Hiccup sighed.

I waited.

“ It’s just… ” Hiccup began. “ I guess, being around our nestmates for so many years, I forgot how other dragons would see me. ”

“You are treated as a valuable, worthy dragon and human by our nestmates,” I said. “Because that is what you are.”

“ Those dragons thought I was neither ,” he said, eyes trailing the lightning that spiraled into the black.

“Those dragons are stupid,” I snorted. That, at least, drew a small smile from him. “They don’t even know who the Saviors are!” I went on. “Who cares what they think?”

“ Obviously me ,” Hiccup groaned, rubbing a paw through his hair. “ I don’t even know why I’m letting this get to me so much. ”

“ I’m bothered by it,” I said. “They were unjust and spoke to tear at us with their words, if they could not settle for their claws. And that makes me very angry.” I nudged him. “I don’t think it’s wrong to be angry.”

“ Not angry ,” he said. “ More like… ” he shrugged. “ Like...I shouldn’t have to worry about that. ”

“That is correct,” I said. “Anyone with sense wouldn’t dream of saying such things to you. Which is why they’re stupid.”

Hiccup smiled with a small purr, pressing up against me. I met his gaze and, with a slight tug, brought our link to life.

That ball of light at his forehead, that blessed magic, shone like a guiding star to the both of us. Hiccup’s mind threaded between a suddenly-astute awareness of his magic, his memories, the words thing and monster and it used by the Lightning-Dancers, the grievances Snotlout had laid upon him just before we’d left. Guilt flooded him that he should think such, but if only his body reflected his heart, if only he were a dragon again…

How selfish, he thought of himself, to want to be a dragon again, with so much left to do. With Snotlout blaming his own feelings of worthlessness on Hiccup’s need to be himself. With his father so achingly supportive, although it was clear to everyone what his true feelings were.

Most of all, with Shadow-Blenders on the horizon, who very well may also call him thing and monster and it ...

You alone get to decide when that time comes , I pushed back to him, weaving love and assurance into the link. And when you decide, then that moment will be the right time. Nothing makes it wrong or selfish.

I hated, hated, hated! that he would think the natural desire to be his own self, especially when we were searching out others of our kind, was somehow wrong. It was only right to want to meet them proper. It was only natural to want to be accepted, to want to avoid the agony of rejection simply because of his shape.

Hiccup relaxed, both in mind and in body. “ Thank you, Toothless ,” he said aloud, leaning against my side. “ It’s hard not to feel bad when I feel like I’m...rushing. With Astrid suddenly being acting Chief, and everything Snotlout said… ” He sighed. “ Not to mention the Book of Dragonese only just getting started. ”

I covered him with a wing and let the link dissipate away like a fine mist. “Well,” I hummed, “Astrid will knock sense into Snotlout’s thick skull. If that’s possible. As for the book, it’s a great thing that you’ve got the most neurotic dragon on Berk to work with you.”

“I heard that!” Haugaeldr shouted.

Hiccup snorted—then began to laugh. I chuckled myself, but more from relief than anything.

“ Hey, Toothless? ” he asked, almost shy in his overtone. “ Want to go flying for a bit? ”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask!” I said, getting to my feet. “We’re going for a flight!” I called over my shoulder.

Hiccup’s comforting weight settled onto my shoulders. I took us up into the Dragoness of the Moon’s embrace, racing to catch the stars in those clear, revitalizing ocean winds.

We flew, we raced, we even played catch-me-if-you-can, laughing and chittering and teasing one another, until the moon’s guidance crept below the ocean, ushering in the new day. It was only then that I took us back down to the sea-stack and settled in between the rest of our family. I waited until Hiccup curled against me and his breathing evened out. Then I wrapped my tail around him, the King, and Haugaeldr, and finally surrendered to the empty expanse of sleep.

o.O.o

A sharp claw prodded into me. “Toothless!”

“Huh?!” I grunted, snapping my head up.

“ Shh! ” Haugaeldr hissed, flapping his paw around just like Hiccup always did. The deep navy of the sky shimmered with stars above, but a soft, pink wedge on the eastern horizon foretold the oncoming dawn. The King was fast asleep in his sleeping-furs, and Hiccup was curled up at my side.

My heart dropped. “What is it? Are they back?” I scanned the skies for any flicker of shadow against the heavens.

“No,” Haugaeldr whispered. He grimaced, tail swinging and wings fluttering with anxiety, and then his expression hardened. “I wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

I tipped my head aside and almost protested, but his expression was so solemn and serious. I’d rarely seen that attitude from him. 

Still, it was with quite a bit of reluctance that I extricated myself from Hiccup’s side, ever so careful to keep from jostling him.

Haugaeldr and I walked to the edge of the pillar, but he didn’t stop there. Without even the slightest hesitation, he slipped right off the cliff and snapped his wings open far below, gliding far out at sea before flapping.

My brows rose. He was really making an effort to speak alone. What could this possibly be about?

Curious and somewhat apprehensive, I performed the same trick to fly away without disturbing the others. The wind buffeted beneath my wings, raising me to Haugaeldr’s height and higher over the island. We would fly far above it, but not away from it. That way, if Hiccup or the King woke up, they wouldn’t see that we were gone and panic.

“So, why are we up here instead of wasting sleep?” I asked.

Haugaeldr stared down at the island for a moment, his slender ears flattening to his neck. “Well, Toothless,” he began, “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“You always do,” I said with a small smile. It melted away. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes.” He raised his golden eyes to mine. “Yesterday, if those dragons had attacked, we would have been defenseless.”

A low growl rumbled in my throat. “We’ll have to be more careful next time,” I said. “It was a mistake to let some of their flare get above us, where they could dive down and shoot lightning at us.”

“Exactly!” Haugaeldr said. He braced against a gust of wind coming from the west. Instead of waiting for it to pass, he shouted over the wind, “And I cannot sleep, because I can only think of what could have gone wrong!”

Oh. So that was what this was. I frowned and tipped my wings, drawing in closer. “I’ll protect you,” I promised him. “I won’t let anything happen. That was the last time I let hostile dragons get that close.”

His eyes flashed with fear. “But you can’t know that, Toothless!” he protested. “You can’t control the future. And you alone can’t protect all of us.”

“The King can, as can you and Hiccup,” I tried to ease his worries. “We are not so easily outmatched.”

“Maybe so,” Haugaeldr said stubbornly, “but I don’t ever want to feel helpless like that again. They could have done so much worse than what they said without the slightest effort!” He drew up into a hover, forcing me to do the same. Setting me with determined eyes, he set his jaw and announced:

“It’s time that you teach me magic, Toothless.”

I nearly fell out of the sky in shock.

It had been a long time since Haugaeldr had explicitly asked for—or, in this case, demanded —such a thing. Arguments on the subject had exploded at dwindling intervals over the years. He had learned long ago that I was the more stubborn of the two of us. Though Hiccup was always so close to breaking, I was not.

Which was why I could only stare at him, baffled. This gave him the chance he needed.

“With magic, you could have easily outflown them. But you could not, because the King and I were with you, and we would be left behind to face the Lightning-Dancers. Such a simple problem has a simple answer: in order to make such an escape possible, I must know how to do it. That way, I can protect myself, the King, and you and Hiccup, and we won’t have to worry as much, and—”

“Haugaeldr.”

He stopped, meeting my eyes with anxious defiance.

My heart thundered. I didn’t want to fight with him. I didn’t want this tension to seep into the rest of this journey. Despite it all, I knew it was unfair. I knew we weren’t doing right by him by simply telling him “no” and expecting him to accept it. I knew he wouldn’t understand until he learned of his origins. I knew that the explanation alone did not justify the consequences.

But I also knew that telling him of Sphere, the source, and his connection to them would shatter him forever. Gone would be the playful, joyful, vibrant young dragon who loved to learn and discover. Gone would be the innocent happiness he embodied.

Haugaeldr was a thinker. He pondered, ruminated, agonized over every little detail of every little problem he faced. This would sweep his entire world away from him, leaving him awash in confusion and guilt. I knew it, because that would be how I felt if I were told such a thing about my own past. His soul was kind-hearted, gentle, and inquisitive. If he learned of all the suffering that had been wrought, as indirectly connected to him as those tragedies had been...

I was afraid to tell him. I was afraid of what the knowledge would do to him.

But I was also afraid to teach him magic. What would the Dragon of the Sun and Dragoness of the Moon think? Just as They were, They had not shown mercy towards him until Hiccup all but forced Their paws. Though no explicit conversation had taken place between Them and us following Haugaeldr’s appearance, I simply did not want to tempt Them. Haugaeldr had a knack for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. This was not a consequence I was willing to risk.

As much as he liked to test me as of late, as much as he pestered and got himself into trouble, he was my family and I loved him.

I couldn’t lose him.

“Haugaeldr,” I said again, softer this time. “I know that this past day was hard on you. You’re right that it would have been easier if we could have just flown away.”

He brightened, and the hope in his expression made my heart ache. “So you agree!”

I shook my head, forcing myself to meet his eyes. I would not do him the injustice of looking away. “I still cannot teach you magic.”

“But—!” he began.

“Haugaeldr!” I interrupted him. “I gave you my answer, as I always have. The reason why you cannot learn magic is...complicated.”

He scowled. “So I must learn when I’m older, yes?”

I grimaced. I had just been about to say that, and he very well knew it.

“I am tired of hearing that excuse!” he cried with hurt and frustration alike. “ All of the other dragons have learned magic except me! Why am I so different?! Is it because there are no other dragons of my kind on Berk? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” I gasped, my chest tightening, my heart hammering. “No, Haugaeldr, you have done nothing wrong!”

“Then why? ” he demanded. Now he was choking up, and oh, Dragon of the Sun, Dragoness of the Moon, I did not want to hurt him so! “ Why — why are you punishing me, when—when I cannot fix whatever I have done, and you will not even tell me!” In anguish, he cried, “We could have died yesterday, Toothless! And even then, those dragons hurt Hiccup because we could not escape them! Is that not enough reason for me to learn?!”

His logic was sound. There was no argument I could make, because I was the one in the wrong here.

I clenched my eyes shut. “ Please ,” I ground out, “don’t start this now, Haugaeldr. I know. I know it isn’t fair. I know it hurts. And I know you won’t believe me when I say this…” I met his eyes, hoping he could see his own sorrow reflected in my own, “...but I hate this, too! But I cannot! I do it because I must protect you, because you are so dear to me, and because I don’t want you to be hurt! ”

He reared his head back as if I’d snapped at him. “Hurt?” he whispered.

I swallowed, trying to compose myself. “I’m sorry,” I said, and shame filled me with the selfish way my throat clogged up. “I’m sorry , Haugaeldr. But I can’t. And that is final.”

He hovered, the sun creeping on the horizon behind him, casting his face in a dark shadow.

When he spoke, his voice was hollow.

“So you’ve really made up your mind.”

My heart burned. “Yes.”

“I see.”

He didn’t wait any longer. He tucked his wings in and plummeted back to the island, coming to a graceful landing beside the King. Without looking back up at me, he thumped to the ground, scooted as close to the King as he could, and curled up into a tight, shuddering ball.

I forced myself to listen to his furious, frustrated, heart-wrenching sobs as I settled next to Hiccup, lying to myself that I had done the right thing.

o.O.o

I didn’t sleep. But when the others rose, Haugaeldr got up and did everything he could to act as though nothing had happened. Naturally, Hiccup and the King immediately noticed that something was wrong. Both of them shot me significant looks, but I only shook my head, eyes lowered in shame.

Eventually, Haugaeldr made an excuse to go fishing, clearly wanting some alone time. I waited for him to go and explained what had happened, my head hanging and ears drooping.

“Toothless,” Hiccup murmured, “are you sure it’s a good idea to keep it from him? His argument is convincing. It’s one I would have made.”

“Aye,” the King agreed with his son. He frowned. “You are protecting him. Keeping him safe from himself.” He sighed. “But it won’t last forever, and you very well know it. I remember thinking I was doing the same for you, Hiccup.”

The regret was almost crushing me into the ground. “So I made a huge mistake.”

Hiccup let out a whooshing sigh, clawing his paws through his hair like he only did when he was overwhelmed.

“I’m sorry,” I moaned, lowering my head with shame. “I’m sorry that I made this already horrible situation so much worse.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hiccup said immediately. “It’s not anyone’s fault.”

The three of us settled into an uncomfortable silence—one that, for once, I was unwilling to break. Out on the horizon, a golden star glistened above the water, dipping up and down, up and down.

“Well, there’s no way around it,” the King huffed. “You’re going to have to teach him.”

My breath caught. “But what if it goes wrong? What if it goes against the gods’ will? What if They do something to him?!”

They both looked taken aback by my outburst. I grit my teeth, shaking my head as Hiccup translated.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, even as adrenaline rushed down my spine. “I think...all of the stress has taken a toll on me.”

Hiccup wrapped his paws around my neck, holding me close. I pressed hard against him, listening to him purr soothingly. Some time had passed before the tension finally left my limbs.

“ It is fine ,” he whispered. “ It is fine. ”

There was a thump behind us. We broke our embrace, spinning around to see Haugaeldr, his mouth filled to the brim with gaping, flapping fish.

He eyed us with hurt and accusation, and at once, I realized what this must look like to him. After I had done a thorough job of stomping all over his heart, for a reason explicitly kept from him, I was the one who received comfort. Not him.

I closed my eyes.

Please , I prayed, please, please, please trust me.

I met Haugaeldr’s gaze, braced myself, and took a step forward.

“I’ve–I’ve had time to think,” I said lamely. “And I spoke to Hiccup and the King about our conversation last night.” My mouth was dry, but still I went on, “They did not agree with me. And I see why.”

I glanced at Hiccup. He offered a supportive grin. Even the King looked expectant.

“Haugaeldr,” I said, turning back to him. “I’ve changed my mind. You are right that you should learn magic.”

And then, coward that I was, desperate to preserve his happiness for even a few days longer, I amended:

“But only after you finish the Book of Dragonese.”

The fish plopped to the ground. Haugaeldr openly gaped at me.

Out of the corner of my eye, Hiccup blinked in equal surprise, sending me a sharp look. I lowered my ears a little.

If we were going to do this, then it was going to be my way, and I needed time to think. I needed time for him. More than anything else, I needed a sign from Them. I needed to be sure this wouldn’t blow up in my face. That he wouldn’t be hurt by this knowledge.

And if They did not show me anything, then by Their names, I would fly up to the heavens and drag an answer out of Them before I put Haugaeldr in danger.

There was a golden blur. I flinched back on instinct, and—

Haugaeldr wrapped his paws around me and began showering me with his tongue. “ THANK YOU! ” he exclaimed. “Oh! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“Haugaeldr!” I wheezed, leaning my head away, trying to avoid the slobbery gratitude.

He let go and bounced in tight circles around me. “Thank you! Thank you! I will make sure we finish it soon, I promise! We will complete it faster than ever before!”

Hiccup cast me a concerned look. It took nearly all my will not to grimace.

“I’m sure you will.”

o.O.o

Haugaeldr poured himself into working on the  Book of...fine, the Book of Dragonese. Hiccup thought that my ultimatum was more than a little unfair, but at least he understood my concerns. Though he disagreed with me, he would not force me to go back on my word...that is, he had stated, until we knew the gods weren’t unhappy. Then I would have no excuses.

So the days went on. The constant anxiety I had come to associate with Dragonese faded as it became clear that there was no rushing a new language. Once Hiccup and Haugaeldr spent hours discussing “participles” and “tonation” and “conjugation” and all of their complexities, it became easy for the subject to become excruciatingly boring again.

That is, until they dragged the King and I into it.

“Good news! We’re just about done classifying the different types of dragon vocalizations,” Hiccup explained to us one morning. “Now you can learn them.”

“I’m familiar with them,” the King said, quirking an eyebrow. “It has been five years and, oh, a lifetime of hearing them, after all.”

“Great!” Hiccup said, completely unfazed by the King’s sarcasm. “Then it’s time to start making them, too.”

Thus, the King became their human test subject.

“We’ve finished constructing the basics of dragon vocalizations. Now, we shall go through how to teach each type!” Haugaeldr said as he stamped our fire to embers. We had nested on a heavily-forested island, and the dense canopy had shielded the sun and made all of us sleep in. Done with his job, he stretched like a cat and shook some pine needles out of his wings. To the King, he chirped, “We will focus only on one group at a time, until the King can perfectly recognize and imitate each.”

“What was that?” the King spluttered after Hiccup’s translation, his paws full of items he needed to shove into our holding-things. “Why all this focus on me? ”

“Because I want you to learn Dragonese,” Hiccup said, his voice serious despite the excitement lighting fire into his eyes and putting a bounce in his step. He finished tightening a strap around my chest for a holding-thing. He ran his paw along the edge to make sure it didn’t run rough on my scales. “And the way we’ve organized things, I think it’ll be much easier than the way I learned. Is this good?” he asked me.

I planted my paws and flapped hard. The holding-things clung to my sides, pressed tight to create as little drag as possible. “All good,” I said. I peered upwards through the dappled-light canopy. It was still morning, but we had lost the first few hours. I would set a tight pace for the first half of our journey today to make up for it.

The King still looked uncertain. “Hiccup...do you really think I can learn Dragonese? I’ve been listening closely this whole time, but I’m still...” he gestured vaguely.

“Yes,” Hiccup said, walking over to him and helping him pack things away. “I know you can.”

I had been quiet, brooding selfishly, but still couldn’t resist adding: “A better question would be: do you want to understand us when Hiccup is a dragon?”

Hiccup translated. The King’s self-conscious grimace melted into one of grim determination. “Of course.” He and Hiccup finished with their holding-things, and he hoisted them all up onto his shoulder with a grunt. “Very well. I’ll make sure I’m fluent by the time you...” he trailed off, a brief flash of sorrow flickering through his expression, before he steeled himself. “You know.”

Hiccup pressed his side against his father’s with a soft, shy-quiet purr. “That means a lot to me, Dad.”

The King couldn’t help but grin, shifting his loads so that he could swing his arm around Hiccup and pull him into a bone-crushing hug. “I couldn’t imagine doing anything less, son.” He released poor Hiccup, who nearly keeled over spineless, and said with much less confidence, “Although I can’t help but worry that I won’t have an ear for it.”

“It can’t be that hard,” I mused. “After all, we live together.”

A few minutes later, we burst through the sticky, rich-earth-smell trees and angled south-southwest, by the King’s determination with his maps. We’d barely even finished our ascent and leveled out before Haugaeldr started the lecture.

“Time to begin!” he cheered, doing a little twirl midair, spreading all four of his legs out and snapping his long tail. “Oh, this is so exciting! First, we must give an overview of the lessons, so you know what to expect and are primed to learn,” Haugaeldr craned his long neck as if making sure the King was paying attention, vibrant golden eyes nearly as luminescent as his shimmering scales. Then, halting every so often for Hiccup to translate, he began.

“An interesting note: human phonology is constructed of vowels and consonants, each of them unique but still sounding very similar to dragon ears. Dragonese, however, does not have this luxury, as our tongues aren’t nearly as versatile as a human’s. We make up for this with a variety of different sounds, each coming from a different source: the nasal passageways, the lips, the tongue, and the glottal passageways. Whether or not the sound is blocked by a structure somewhere in the throat or mouth, and how it is blocked, helps determine the output. For example, a pinched nose may make a whistle or whine, but an open nose may make a snort or whuff. Shall I stop for questions?”

The King and I exchanged a wide-eyed look.

“Go on…” the King said when it became obvious Haugaeldr expected an answer.

“Speaking of which, that is our first lesson: the nasal sounds!” Hiccup said. “We’ll go through them all at first, and then focus on each one individually.”

“Very...well,” the King said.

“And Toothless!” Hiccup said, causing me to jump. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this. I want you to repeat every noise we do, so that Dad knows what it sounds like coming from a Shadow-Blender.”

I almost let out an overdramatic groan. I knew he would drag me into this! I still had a headache from the other day. Hiccup had made me roar, repeatedly and wordlessly, for hours. The whole time, Hiccup and Haugaeldr tried to nitpick how to describe each sound, and damn near every fish in the ocean was scared away.

The moment I glanced back at my brother, all complaints died on my lips. Hiccup was nearly vibrating with a purr atop my shoulders. He bounced a little where he sat. He looked alive with excitement, like he could simply leap off of me and fly away with it. 

This was our first real breakthrough in teaching dragon-tongue to humans. Which meant we were one step closer to…

Well, I was much more enthusiastic after that little revelation.

Of course, Hiccup and Haugaeldr had separated their steps of teaching into sub-categories. So, for a thrilling several hours, we focused first on recognition of different “nasal”-produced sounds: snorts, whuffs, nasal whistles—not to be confused with pursed-lip whistles, which were apparently different—whines, exhales, and plenty more. By midday, my nose felt sore from constantly forcing air through it. It didn’t help that nasal sounds were quieter than others, by virtue of being from noses , which meant that we had to repeat ourselves much more than we would have otherwise.

But our efforts weren’t to be wasted.

By the end of the first day, the King was fairly familiar with the nasal sounds.

By the end of the fifth, he could produce half of them.

By the conclusion of the first week of lessons…

“Perfect!” Hiccup exclaimed, after the King both identified randomized sounds and produced just as many on command.

The King chuckled. “Well, it helps that there are only seven or so.”

“Then we must move onwards!” Haugaeldr exclaimed. He executed a flip, nearly throwing the King in the process. “These are the easiest sounds—now we move a step up, to labial sounds, produced by the lips!”

With that, the two of them plunged into the next set. There were raised-lip sounds, such as hisses. There were pursed-lips sounds, such as whistles. Lastly, there were neutral-lip sounds, like certain types of growl-barks.

These were much more complicated—and, of course, more difficult. It was only compounded by Hiccup’s insistence that the King learn actual words along with the sounds, so that he could hear applications for his efforts right away.

Which led to the morning in which Hiccup turned to his father, eyes glinting hopefully, and whistled, “ H-e-y, D-a-d? ”

“Yes?” the King hummed, too engrossed in rolling up his smelly sleeping-thing to look up.

Hiccup beamed. Haugaeldr’s neck snapped up from a strange scribble he had made on the ground. Even I couldn’t keep a huge grin from sliding across my muzzle, dropping the large fish I had hunted for Hiccup and the King.

The King stood up, brushed himself off, and did a double-take at all of us staring at him. “What?” he asked. “Did something…”

He trailed off, eyes widening.

“That wasn’t Norse.”

“No.” Hiccup’s grin could outglow the sun.

“You did it!” Haugaeldr exploded. He leapt into the air, looping in tight circles. “You understood unprompted! A real sentence!” he spat out a joyful blaze of fire...which immediately erupted onto a copse of trees. “Oh, Dragon of the Sun!” he cursed, fluttering away to hopefully keep the whole island from burning down.

It was the King’s turn to look baffled, running a paw through the fur on his head, eyes wide with amazement. He broke out into an enormous smile, a mirror of Hiccup’s, and gave a bellowing laugh.

“Thor’s beard, you’ve actually done it!” he said, hurrying over to Hiccup and giving him one of his revered bone-crunching hugs. “Not that I doubted you, but...well, I doubted myself. ”

“Can’t—breathe,” Hiccup wheezed, voice muffled against the King’s chest.

“Oh! Sorry,” he sputtered, releasing my brother. Hiccup made a big show of doubling over gasping for breath, and the King rolled his eyes. “Come now, son, you’ll need to learn to take a little more than that.” His grin stiffened, just a little, and he said, “Especially if you’re to be a dragon.”

Hiccup straightened up, meeting his father’s eye almost shyly now. “R-right,” he said lamely. “Although I hope you won’t squeeze me in half before that happens, right?” He let out a nervous chuckle.

The King’s stiff expression didn’t relax, though he still continued to grin. “I’ll try not to.” He clapped Hiccup on the back, not a single bit more gentle than usual. “Well, since we know it’ll work now, let’s get to it!”

So we began, all of us, in earnest. For the first time, a human had proven that they could learn dragon-tongue.

Hiccup’s joy radiated into each of us like sunlight spilling over a hilltop and into a valley below. The King could learn. Which meant that one day, he could speak.

I could no longer justify my apprehension towards Dragonese when it brought such gifts. When it gave my brother such hope. Selfish as my fear for Haugaeldr was, it was not nearly as strong as my love for my brother and my desire for him to be happy.

Hiccup and I never said it aloud. But with each excited glance, each flurry of ideas racing through our link, each success after a grueling string of failures, we knew.

The future in which my brother became his true self had always been vague and formless. There were so many things to do, even if, in my opinion, he owed certain humans nothing. New problems always sprang to attention just as old ones were resolved. There were private moments in which I feared that the “when” he returned to his dragon form had malformed into an “if”.

But now…

Now, there was a light out on the horizon that we could just barely see.

And we raced towards it.

o.O.o

Hiccup

As it always is, summer was eager to stoop into fall. The temperature in the air plummeted seemingly overnight. Morning frost crystalized into thousands of diamonds speckling the hardy grasses and pines. Mist clung to the ocean surface long into the day, making it feel as though all the world had been enveloped in crisp-smelling clouds.

If it weren’t for the thick, fur-lined coats Dad packed and the warmth of Toothless and Haugaeldr below us, we would have had a pretty rough go of it. Still, the change in seasons wasn’t nearly as bad as we were accustomed to on Berk. Already, just about three weeks into our journey, we were south enough to feel a noticeable difference in the climate. It was still frigid enough for glaciers to pockmark the ocean’s surface and for heavy bouts of snow and sleet to pour down on us. 

Still, when we had no other choice but to make our camp on top of a lone glacier floating in the vast nothingness of the ocean, it was pretty bad.

Especially when we got a rude awakening from a giant wave crashing over the whole thing.

All of us snapped awake, spluttering in the frigid brine. Toothless, who had been curled around everyone, leapt to his feet. The three of us were knocked around the slippery ice as he spun, growling.

“ Who are— ” he began, then stopped, eyes widening and ears sticking straight up.

“ Well, hello, hello! ” sang a familiar voice. A black and white dragon head popped out of the ocean and rose above us.

“ Deep-Swimmer! ” I said. I crouched down on the glacier’s edge, grasping its lip with my fingers. “ I can’t believe it’s you! ”

“ I can’t believe you just poured water on us, ” Toothless snorted, shaking his entire body.

Two little heads poked just out of the water, enormous yellow eyes peering up at us. The water rippled with some deep sound one of them made. They were tiny Deep-Swimmers, dwarfed even by me.

“ Don’t be a stranger! Say hello to the Saviors! ” the Deep-Swimmer chastised them.

They raised their stocky necks out of the water, each barely bigger than a Little-Biter.

“ H-hello ,” one peeped, a female. She met my eyes and quickly looked away.

“ ...hello… ” whispered the other, a male.

“ Hello, ” I purred.

“ Hatchlings! ” Haugaeldr exclaimed, delighted. He padded over, tumbled on the ice, and nearly slid right off into the ocean. Dad lunged for his tail and yanked him back. Haugaeldr wriggled into a lying-down position, digging his claws into the glacier and craning his neck to sniff at them. “ Hello! I’ve heard of you, Deep-Swimmer, but I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting you. ”

The Deep-Swimmer puffed up. “ You’ve heard of me, eh? Well, I suppose I was very important, back then. Saviors, meet my two hatchlings! ” She nosed them forward. They stretched towards Haugaeldr, just barely pressing their noses to his. “ Strong and hearty ones, the best of the pod! Already learning to hunt and glide above the water! ” She tilted her head and squinted at us. “ But what in the deep waters are you all doing out here?”

“ Are you lost? ” one hatchling chirped.

Dad cleared his throat.

“Oh!” I yelped. “Uh, sorry, Dad. Remember the Sharkworm?”

“The crazy sea-dragon that launched our boat over an ice bridge?” Dad asked. “I’d be gone mad if I didn’t remember.” He carefully stepped closer to the rest of us. The male hatchling immediately dipped back below the water. The other grabbed the ice in her webbed paws and stretched even closer to him. With a soft smile, he reached out a hand for her to get a good scent.

“ What is it? ” she asked.

“ A human ,” her mother said. In a stern voice, she added, “ These ones are good, but if you see any others, you must swim down as fast as you can. You hear me? ”

“ I hear you! ” she chirped. She bumped Dad’s hand with her muzzle and let go of the glacier, letting herself plop back in.

The smile fell a bit from my face.

“ The humans of our archipelago are good, ” Toothless said, glancing over at me. “ We live together as a single nest. ”

The Deep-Swimmer chuckled. “ That’s wonderful...for you. Out here, humans on their wooden things stalk the surface of the ocean and hunt sea-dragons for fun, it seems. ”

I frowned. “ Well, then I guess...that’s good advice... ”

“ There’s a good Savior. Now, would you answer my question? ” She dipped her nose in the water and splashed a fine spray up at us in chastisement.

Toothless wrinkled his nose, licked his paw, and wiped the freezing water off. “ We’re seeking out other Shadow-Blenders.” He perked his ears. “ Apparently there have been sightings near the southwestern mainland, near the mountains. Have you heard anything? ”

“How could I possibly know? I’m no sky-dragon!” the Deep-Swimmer chortled. “I’ve not heard or seen anything. Have any of you?” She ducked her head below the water and gave a deep thrum that I felt down to my bones. Then she emerged, snorted a mist of sea-water from her nose right in my face. “None in my pod have, either. But...wait!” She perked up.

Without warning, the Deep-Swimmer plunged back into the ocean in an elegant arc. A few moments later, she and several other Deep-Swimmers leapt from the water...much, much farther away.

We scrambled to get all of our things together. Luckily, we had been so exhausted after setting down last night, we had only set down some blankets to brace against the cold.

“ Hurry up! Hurry up! ” Toothless said, eyes darting between the retreating sea-dragons and the rest of us.

“We’ll catch up with them, don’t worry,” Dad said, packing the blankets into their satchel and checking that the straps were firm. He hopped up onto Haugaeldr’s shoulders. “Where exactly are they taking us?”

I was already atop Toothless. I shrugged. “Something about hearing about other Shadow—”

Toothless took off, and the wind carried my voice away.

We flew just above the Deep-Swimmers, racing across the enormous, endless expanse of the ocean. In between leaps for breath, the hatchlings challenged us to a race. Haugaeldr eagerly descended to skim just above the ocean, so close that his wingtips shot up fine sprays of water with each downstroke.

Normally, he would have outpaced them. With the added weight of Dad, the sandbox, and the saddlebags, though, it was a fair competition. He and the Deep-Swimmer hatchlings shouted playful taunts and insults at each other, splashing and swiping at each other, each vying to get ahead. The match was mostly even, but it drew chuckles out of everyone watching.

By the time we came upon a grove of moss-covered sea-stacks, all three of them were tuckered out. The Deep-Swimmers slowed to a halt as we reached them. Haugaeldr landed atop one, panting for breath, wings and tail dangling limply.

“ I think...I won? ” he asked, looking down. The two hatchlings had lifted out of the water, clinging to one of the mossy stacks and gasping.

“ No, I won! ” each hatchling cried.

Dad looked the most frazzled of all of them, soaking wet and bedraggled. He wrung his beard out and picked a piece of stray seaweed off of his helmet.

“ It’s a tie ,” I laughed. Straightening up, I looked around at the sea stacks. They were all thin and pointed near the top. Although there were enough holes and divots for sea-birds to make comfortable nests, there was no way that any had enough space for a cave. Most of them were covered in moss, but one odd feature immediately caught my eye.

Most of the sea stacks had corals and barnacles clinging to them, all the way to the top. Which made no sense, considering that those grew on the bottom of the ocean floor.

I tilted my head. “Look at those,” I called, pointing.

Dad’s brow furrowed. He looked down, no doubt measuring the height of the stacks just like I was. “We’re easily hundreds of meters up,” he said. “Unless these get hit often with tidal waves , how did they get there?”

“ Deep-Swimmer! ” Toothless bellowed down to the ocean. “ Why did you bring us here? ”

She popped her head out of the water and snorted a huge gust of mist into the air. “ Give me a moment! ” she snapped, and then disappeared again.

Toothless sighed. “ I suddenly remember why we weren’t too sad to see her go the last time she visited. ”

The sea stacks vibrated. An enormous ripple bubbled up from their base and crested in an expanding wave. Haugaeldr leapt to his feet with a surprised squawk. Toothless braced himself against our perch.

“Hiccup—” Dad shouted.

The sea stacks bent and swayed like thousand-year old trees in a hurricane. Corals and barnacles plunked into the ocean. The few sea-birds that were around lifted into the air, screeching.

The water at the surface sucked down , like some massive hole had opened up and swallowed it. The horizon line lurched up and down nauseatingly fast. The escaped water exploded outwards in an enormous wave, creating a cloud of mist that left us in a white haze.

Instantly, I was warped back to a different time, of a fog-shrouded landscape, of pain and desperation and self-hatred, of the song...

Toothless spread his wings wide. “ Haugaeldr, to us! ” he cried. “Now!”

“ I’m coming! ” he cried, a tight, fearful overtone in his voice.

A gale of wind pierced towards us. The mist swept away all at once, blown off into cascading rivers of hazy light.

A spellbinding, emerald-green eye snapped open mere feet away from us, swallowing the horizon.

Toothless and I froze. Haugaeldr dropped right beside us and curled as close to Toothless as he could, practically trying to crawl under him like he was still a hatchling.

The eye blinked with an audible snap and drew back, back, back…

The dragon was slender, thin-necked, with a crown of vibrant, coral-encrusted “sea stacks” that started at the tip of their slender muzzle and ran all down their winding neck. Several whiskers hung from their nostrils and chin, swaying with every slight movement. Delicate, fishlike fins protruded from their cheekbones in waves, and when they fluttered them in the wind, I glimpsed a pair of gills clamp shut to the air. Their scales were smooth and diamond-shaped, like a carp. Water droplets clung to them and glittered in the sun.

With their head lifted all the way out of the water, the dragon was high enough for the atmosphere to tint them blue. They could just reach up and snap up the clouds in their maw if they wanted to. They snorted out a gargantuan spray of saltwater from their nostrils, adding a cloud to the sky, and tilted their head to the side.

“ Why, ” came a pristine, ringing voice, like the sound of raindrops on smooth stone. Her overtone full of wonderment, she hummed, “ if it isn’t sky-dragons and humans, together... ”

“ I told you the rumors were true! ” the Deep-Swimmer crowed from below. “ These are the Saviors I was telling ya about a few seasons back! ”

“Hiccup,” Dad hissed, “is it friendly?”

I closed my gaping mouth and swallowed. “I sure hope so,” I whispered back. The Deep-Swimmer wouldn’t lead us to this dragon if she was dangerous...right?

The dragon craned her head back down towards us. When she opened her mouth to speak, thousands of needle-sharp teeth glistened all the way down her throat. “ The Saviors? ” she said. “ I fear I was asleep during that debacle. They say the sky-dragon gods came down and blessed you, after you struck down the undead creature that stole their magic. ”

Toothless made a heroic effort to not so much as twitch in Haugaeldr’s direction. He knew of that day, of course, but not that he even had a role in it in the first place. “ Yes ,”  Toothless said. “ But right now, we are looking for Shadow-Blenders .”

I began to translate for Dad’s benefit. That alive-green eye snapped towards me.

“ The human understands! ”

“ He is a dragon, too ,” Toothless leapt to my defense.

I bobbed my head somewhat sheepishly. “ Uh, hello ,” I said. “ It’s a very long story, but...I was a Shadow-Blender, once. ”

“ He still is, ” Toothless interjected.

“ Well, that’s debatable, at least physiologically, ” Haugaeldr spoke up, peeking out from around Toothless.

Any dragon would have at least raised a brow at the insanity we were spouting at them, but this one merely nodded. “ Oh, you sky-dragons and your…dramatics. ” She flicked her head, flared her fins to block the sun, and grinned with her thousands of teeth in a weirdly-playful expression that I hoped meant that she was joking. “ I recognize that tongue, though it has shifted through the seasons. Do you speak as well? ” she asked Dad.

“She asked if you can speak,” I told Dad.

“Then tell her I can’t?” he said, raising an eyebrow at me.

“ You tell her!” I said.

He balked. “What?!”

“Just say no!” I said. “You should be able to now—you’ve gotten most of the vocalizations down by now.”

“Barely,” Dad grumbled. He shuffled around and sighed. “Very well.” He faced the curious, glimmering, horizon-engulfing eye before us. “ N...N-n-o-o ,” he garbled out.

“ That’s wonderful! ” the sea-dragon cried. Then she blinked. “ Wait...I beg your pardon? ”

“ He’s learning! We’re teaching him! ” Haugaeldr exclaimed, puffing up to nearly twice his size with pride. “ We’ve worked on standardizing all of the vocalizations based on anatomical section, and now that we’ve finished describing dragon phonetics, we may work on the lexicon and syntax, starting with how each sound varies in the five tonal variants, and building from small words built of small sounds into larger, more complex and overlapping vocalizations… ”

“Did she understand?” Dad asked as Haugaeldr blabbered on, incredulous.

“Yes!” I said, beaming.

His eyes widened. “She understood...” he breathed.

The sea dragon stared at Haugaeldr, enraptured, the frills over her cheekbones lifted high as if she hoped to catch every breath onto them. “ Incredible! You sky-dragons! ” she said. “ And here my kind are, always quarreling. ”

Toothless shifted antsily below me. I cleared my throat and spoke up, “ I think the Deep-Swimmer brought us here to ask if you’ve seen any Shadow-Blenders around here. Have you? ”

“ Why, I have no idea what that is, little dear! ” she said.

Toothless drooped. “ Me ,” he said. “ Dragons like me. ”

“ Ah, I see! I suppose I should have surmised that myself, hm? Forgive this old dame! ” she chortled. “ Now, let’s get a good look at you… ”

She shifted so close that the whole world nearly blackened with her pupil. Every strand of her iris shone in the light like liquid jade and emerald, catching the sun in glimmering, golden rivers. Toothless and I both leaned back. I felt as though I could fall into that eye, swallowed into its depths.

“ I have seen sky-dragons like you ,” the sea-dragon said, pulling away, “ only a sleep ago. ”

Toothless stiffened. “ What do you mean? When did you see them? Where did you see them? ”

Sympathy filled her overtone. “ Oh, forgive me, little dear. When I rest, seasons pass and new generations of sky-dragons have sprouted from your caverns. I cannot say how long ago it was, but I can say where. ” She twisted her head nearly completely around to survey the ocean. “ There, ” she said, pointing her nose south.

Towards the mountain range on the map.

I had been translating for Dad, and the moment she said that, I cut myself off with a gasp. Even Dad snapped his head up, eyes hopeful.

My brother trembled with joy. “ That’s where we’re going! ” He turned to me, eyes shining, and began to bounce on his feet like an overjoyed hatchling. “ They’re there! They’re really there! ”

The sea-dragon reeled backwards. “ Oh, you musn’t travel there, little dear! ”

A pang of fear shot through me.

Toothless froze. In a stiff voice, he asked, “ Why? ”

“ Terrible nonsense there, nowadays. Humans waging fierce battles with one another, tearing apart the land, destroying rivers and waterways! Many of my sea-folk kin used to travel upriver to the breeding grounds, and of late, I have heard that they cannot reach them any longer. I do not stray too far from my own nest—I have eggs of my own to protect, you see—but I have noticed an unseemly number of ships in those waters. ” She ruffled her frills. “ I have only been awake so long as to lay my eggs and watch over them. It is a task that takes seasons, and I fear for my little hearts’ health, with all this turmoil shaking the ocean so! ”

“The wars,” I murmured.

“So we will be heading straight for them,” Dad said after I’d translated all of it. “And Grimmel, most likely.”

I heard the warning in his voice. So did Toothless.

“ We’re still going to find them ,” he said, his voice much snappier than I expected. “ We have to find them, if that...that thing’s near! ”

“ The human is wise ,” the sea-dragon said. “ Best not to trap yourself into a current you can’t fight, lest you’re prepared to be carried off. ”

Toothless snorted in that I’ve-made-up-my-mind manner of his. “ We’ll find them ,” he said. “ We’ll find them first. ”

The sea-dragon watched him with those aged eyes. “ You’ve lost something dear to you ,” she said softly. Toothless’ determined posture slackened, and I pressed close to him with a soft thrum. “ I shall accompany you within my territory ,” she said. “ You may rest upon my spines and gather your strength. You will need it, if you hope to pierce through those dangerous lands. But I can only carry you so far, lest I leave my eggs unprotected. Unlike you sky-dragons, we sea-kin must worry about our eggs being eaten. ”

“ Thank you, ” I sighed with relief. “ That means so much to us. ”

She gave a wry grin. Her eyes, filled with memories centuries into the past, glittered with fondness. “ It is the least I can do, for such delightful little creatures. ”

o.O.o

That night, Dad pulled me aside. We had found that the spines closer to the sea-dragon’s midsection were much thicker, allowing us to settle down atop them. We couldn’t light a fire, obviously, so all of us huddled together for warmth. Dad waited for both Toothless and Haugaeldr to fall asleep before shaking me awake and taking me to the edge of the “sea stack”.

“Hiccup…” he began.

“Do you really want us to turn back now?” I whispered, my stomach already hollow with the thought.

“Trader Johann’s report made it sound like the war was ending ,” Dad said. “But this sea-dragon makes it sound otherwise. If Grimmel is here, in the middle of a war, and we come flying in…”

“We’ll be careful!” I said. “We don’t even have to go near any encampments or battles.”

“And what about patrol ships? What about scouts, like Eret used to be? What about villagers in the mountains, who apparently look to the skies searching for Night Furies?” Dad demanded. “Hiccup, there is no if about this. It is a matter of when Grimmel will find out about us.”

“So if he does, then we can leave,” I pressed. I set my jaw. “Or we can confront him and find out what he did to all the Night Furies.”

Dad narrowed his eyes. “ No! There’s facing trouble, and there’s asking for it. I’ve never met this man, but I’ve heard enough about him to be cautious. You should be, too—especially for Toothless.”

I bristled. “Toothless isn’t in any danger.”

Dad set me with a look. “Hiccup, you know safety can’t be promised.”

I scowled, looking away, not wanting to confront the problem that he was right . Memories came unbidden, of the dragon raids on Berk after the battle with the Queen, of the war Drago brought to our home, of the shadow that had consumed my every thought, that still stalked through the depths of my mind.

Dad reached out and grasped my shoulder in his hand, and I met his eyes.

“I want you to be safe,” he said. “ Both of you. You’re more excited and happy than I’ve ever seen you. I know…” he wavered. “...I know you wish to return to your dragon form soon. I can see it, the way you and Toothless look at each other. It’s why I’m trying so hard to learn Dragonese.”

My heart began to thunder in my chest. He looked so...sad. “Dad…” I began, my mouth dry.

“I’m not upset,” he reassured me, not for the first time. “I just...these last days are precious to me, Hiccup.” He offered a small smile. “I don’t want something to happen, now of all times. I don’t want the decision taken from you. And I don’t want to see you hunted.”

“That’s why you’re here,” I said, trying a smile. “You’re here to keep us safe from ourselves, aren’t you?”

He snorted. “I’ve always been.” He tugged me into one of his lungs-deflating hugs. “I’m sorry, Hiccup. I know you two are so excited to find others. But I can’t help but worry. I just want you to know why, instead of wondering.”

“Worrying is my job,” I complained, rubbing my side and grimacing. I swear I had felt a rib shift out of place. “But...thank you, Dad. I promise we’ll try to be careful.”

He gave me a pointed look. “And if, Thor forbid, we encounter Grimmel?”

My shoulders drooped. “We’ll fly far away,” I said. Even though he may be near other Shadow-Blenders , I didn’t add.

He clapped me on the back, popping the rib back to where it belonged. “Very well. Let’s get some sleep, then. I want to rest while we can. From now on, when we fly, it will only be during the night.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

nameless

The days passed. I shook the mushroom-illness off, making an effort to avoid the horrible things by “hiding” in the sun-bathed upper levels of the Shell. It seemed almost like a mockery of my old haunts: the dark, wet tunnels of the Under.

Protected the Hatchlings, as expected, told anyone who would listen to him about my sickness. The dragons who already made an effort to avoid me drew further away. Where I walked, a pocket of emptiness formed in our flock, like fish skirting around a predator. A few named dragons, such as Fought the Leader and Raced the Auroras, refused to be swayed, speaking to me in tight, loud sentences to show the others their opinions.

The nameless male was one of them, as much as I wished he wasn’t.

After learning about my private trip with Killed the Sea Serpent, he whined and begged until he was “invited” to the outings. So, every day, Killed the Sea Serpent, the nameless male, and I ventured further into the Shell.

Many dragons avoided us just as my flockmates did to me. Protected the Hatchlings had told other species, too.

Every now and then, we found Survived the Storm, Escaped the Monsters, and Fed the Flock. Sometimes they were busy with responsibility or were simply spending time with other dragons. But Survived the Storm made an effort to reach out to us—I suspected because we showed interest in her stories—and as the unofficial leader of their trio, that meant the other two did as well.

It was…nice.

But a strange guilt filled me with each day spent in other dragons’ company. I couldn’t shake the strange memory, or the question of why my life had shaped into this. I feared that there was a reason, a bad one, for why I was...the way I was.

I didn’t want to drag these kind dragons down with me, like a crippled tailfin dooming a dragon to fall. They accepted me, all of them, even as rumors about me spread through the Shell. Survived the Storm carelessly told me she’d heard storytellers spreading a new tale about me: the only dragon in the entire Shell who was struck ill by the mushrooms. For some reason that I couldn’t fathom, they continued to let me near them.

Sometimes I even felt like there wasn’t judgement in their eyes, but familiarity.

I wanted it. I wanted it so, so bad.

But a cursed dragon could not live a happy life. Wasn’t that true? Something would happen, wouldn’t it? The spell would break and the kindness would wrench away, like a dragon finding an eel in place of a fish. I could feel it like a bird knows it is spotted, watchful and wary, unable to stop the advance. I didn’t want them to be hurt because of me. I didn’t want to be hurt by the oncoming despair.

Yet…

Selfishishly, foolishly, I wanted to wait until it happened. I wanted to cling to this companionship for as long as possible, even as I worried that I would hurt the dragons I had come to care for.

They accepted me, the cursed nameless dragon. They didn’t punish me with stings, nips, or scorn. They didn’t snarl at me for speaking out of turn—or, for that matter, simply speaking when they didn’t want to hear my voice. They didn’t treat my presence like a volcano about to explode, a disaster just waiting to happen.

Weak-willed as I was, I couldn’t let it go. With every smile, gentle greeting, and soft reassurance, relief and security bloomed in my heart like frail spring flowers after a harsh winter, and it was all I had ever wanted, and I just couldn’t let it slip from my claws! For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to push dragons away, and it was such a strange, such a wonderful thing!

So, day after day, when Killed the Sea Serpent woke me up in her nest and guided me into the Shell, I flew with her, hoping and fearing and exhilarated and full of dread all at once.

It was because of this that, when the nameless male began to bring up attending competitions, my first thought wasn’t to try and flee.

Competitions were new to me. If anything, it was a welcome distraction from my warring thoughts. A nameless could earn their name in one, but they required a named escort. Now that we spent more time in the Shell instead of doing responsibilities, the nameless male talked about them all the time.

“Can we at least watch some today?” he pleaded as we finished our meal, having just hunted in a lake with the other three dragons. “ Please? We did stories yesterday!”

“What’s wrong with stories?” Survived the Storm squawked.

“A race would be nice,” Fed the Flock said, stretching her wings. “I want to see if I’ve gotten faster.”

Killed the Sea Serpent sighed. “The truth is,” she said, “I don’t want you to get hurt in one.”

“But that’s part of the fun!” the nameless male protested. To me, he pressed, “Don’t you want to go to one?”

I didn’t meet his eye and shrugged. “I wouldn’t be very good at them.”

“Oh, come on!” he cried, bumping his shoulder into mine. “Maybe not the fighting , but the racing, or the swimming, or the acrobatics contests, or the nest decorations...well, maybe not that one.”

 I couldn’t help a small smile, and though I knew I should back away, I stayed where I was. My compromise was to keep looking away, only seeing him through the corner of my eye.

Stupid , I thought.

The nameless male, encouraged, stepped closer to me. My heart swelled with the thought that he wanted to be near me. He wanted to be friends.

And, first ones forgive me, even though I had gotten him hurt...I wanted to be friends, too.

Heart racing, I stammered, my mouth dry and my tongue heavy. Before I could lose my nerve completely, I breathed, “I...maybe...we can only race each other? All of us?”

The three other dragons stared openmouthed. I had never spoken up with a suggestion.

I cursed myself, ducking my head and tucking my wings and tail close. Who was I, a nameless, a cursed dragon, to tell them what to do?

The nameless male beamed, bouncing in place. “Yeah! Let’s do it!”

The guilt and joy in my heart sparred. I looked to our leader.

Her eyes were wide, her ears sticking straight up. “...I see,” she said. “That’s…a good idea! Good thinking, nameless.”

There was something in her voice beyond her obvious surprise. It took me a long time to recognize it, having not heard since my hatchling-times.

Pride.

And, great Prebirth, I couldn’t stop myself from puffing up a little bit from it. I even loosened out of my submissive posture.

“Great!” the nameless male cheered. “What should we do?”

“A race!” Fed the Flock said.

“I always lose those,” Survived the Storm complained.

“I say a race,” Escaped the Monsters snickered, shooting his friend a sly look.

Killed the Sea Serpent took control. In her militant voice, she walked to the edge of the cliff we were on and barked, “Line up!”

Everyone scrambled to get there. I slunk after them.

We were on the outer lip of a mountain-sized pillar, high up enough that the others could see one of the sides of the Shell. Below, cliffs and crystals strained to reach our altitude. Some reached straight up from the very bottom of the Shell, while others grew atop huge plateaus that created valleys of their own. Waterfalls tumbled into lakes, which sometimes raced away as rivers. All of it I had sight-sounded on our journey up here, and now it formed a blurry expanse of brilliant greens, blues, reds, and all the colors in-between.

“We’ll head to the great oak tree we visited the other day,” Killed the Sea Serpent instructed. “The one on the cliff beside the waterfall, with the roots that hang down into the lower levels. First one to the bottom of the trunk wins.” To me, she asked, “Do you know the way?”

I nodded. Compared to the Under, it was easy to keep track of where we were Above. There were so many unique things to use as landmarks, like trees, plateaus, and lakes. When I spent most of my time Under, I relied on remembering where I had been to know where I was, with only the occasional crystal or oddly-shaped stone to reaffirm my knowledge. Already, I was mapping my passage from here: swooping down to gain speed, rushing past the twin waterfalls split around the crystal spike, above one of the many rocky arches with the hanging vines, a sharp turn around a butte jutting out from a plateau…

“Ready?” Killed the Sea Serpent shouted.

My heart pounded. This was happening–I was going to be in a race. A race , with other dragons.

I crouched, opening my wings.

“Go!”

We threw ourselves forward. Some of us caught the wind and soared above. The rest dove, hoping to sacrifice an easier path for speed.

A sharp whistle tore past me, followed by a familiar scent: our leader, blasting ahead without mercy.

“Oh, no fair!” I heard the nameless male shriek from somewhere behind and to my left.

I had no breath to spare between sight-sounding and pulling the wind into my lungs. Narrowing my eyes, I ducked around a dragon ahead of us, over a small forest, and through a sprinkling waterfall falling from a pillar far above. As I swerved and spun, I followed my leader’s scent always, straining my ears to hear the air whistling off of her sharp wing-edges. With my sight-sounding, I could make out that she was several lengths ahead.

My eyes, on the other wing, washed me over with distractions. Colors swarmed in my vision, undulating and jolting nauseatingly fast. Whenever I passed within sight of the sun, its bright beams caused spots to dance across my vision.

With a frustrated grunt, I closed my eyes and pretended that I was Under. The world at once became familiar and clear. Tracing Killed the Sea Serpent’s scent, I raced past the roar of the twin waterfalls. My sight-sounds opened the narrow way for me, guiding me through groups of flying dragons, past pillars, and just above the grasping canopies and hanging vines.

A gust of wind buffeted me from above. I righted myself, ears sticking straight up, and aimed my sight-sounds upwards.

The nameless male swooped ahead of me, laughing, “Well, at least we can race! See you at the oak tree!”

“No, we’ll see you! ” Survived the Storm called from somewhere above and just behind us.

A small, hesitant grin crept on my lips. That light-hearted feeling lifted me up again.

“We’ll see,” I whispered, rolled my shoulders, and pushed my wings forward.

Swimming with wings underwater was more difficult than flying in the air. Which meant that a lifetime of doing it had made my wings strong.

I poured ahead like a raging current, sight-sounding like a crazed dragon. Killed the Sea Serpent’s scent had mingled with the many others of the Shell, but there were enough traces of it to be followed. I flew along her past, focusing everything in me on my sight-sounds, my wings, and making sure I didn’t fly straight into something.

The scent grew more alive, more vibrant. My heart beat in step with my wings. I gasped for breath, tongue lolling out of my mouth, but didn’t dare let myself slow down.

And all at once, through the exhilaration of it all, I was struck by what I was doing. I  was racing a group of dragons—a group of friends.

I had friends!

The scent trail was clear and strong now, almost as though she were standing next to me. I sight-sounded far ahead, wondering if I could catch the glimmer of her wings.

A flicker against my sight sounds, the rustle of membranes buffeting air, the high whistle of wingtips against the wind—

“Well!” Killed the Sea Serpent said, flying up beside me as if we were casually riding air thermals. “I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be leading the flock!”

I turned my head towards her and gasped between heaves, “I—wasn’t—either!”

She let out a gasp. “Great Prebirth! You’re flying with your eyes closed?! ” she scolded me. Then, with a small laugh, she said, “Well, since we’re the only two ahead, let’s make this race between you and me. What do you think?”

Despite how fast it was hammering, my heart stopped right then and there. Me, racing Killed the Sea Serpent?

“Good choice!” she laughed. “Ready?”

“Um—”

“Go!”

Killed the Sea Serpent surged forward, and before my nerves could freeze me there, so did I.

She was our leader for good reason; she was among the strongest in our flock. She barrelled ahead, pure force and speed, and disappeared from the reach of my sight-sounds. I strained my wings, reminding myself over and over my wings are strong, my wings are strong .

Up ahead, a waterfall roared. There was an odd reverberation to it; one that was familiar. It tumbled from a mountainous plateau that I knew stretched from the center of the Shell to its closest edge on the ocean. It towered nearly as tall as the first ones’ grace and formed a mountain range within all the Shell.

Killed the Sea Serpent simply threw her tail up and sprung straight upwards, an impossible feat that she somehow managed anyways. To follow her, I would have to go upwards at a difficult angle or maybe even have to spiral upwards. The extra time would lose me the race.

I narrowed my eyes. My ears twitched with the rushing of the waterfall, the echo of it, the gentle pitter-patter beneath it all…

I tucked my wings and lunged towards the cliffs of the mountain.

“ Nameless! ” Killed the Sea Serpent cried in alarm, already so far above her voice barely drifted on the wind.

The waterfall roared. Cold air bustled against my wings. I snapped them against my body just as the tumbling water barreled down onto my body, sharp as thousands of claws.

I could hear it. I knew it was there—it had to be there!

The cold disappeared. Cool, humid air washed over my scales. Dragons gasped.

I snapped my wings open and streaked through the cave. My sight-sounds revealed familiar-unfamiliar stone passages, with stony teeth jutting from the floor and ceiling. The dragons resting at the entrance shouted at me to slow down, but they were already far enough behind that I only heard the echo. I kept my wings close to my body, twisting and curling through the darkness.

It did not welcome me as it once had. But that was okay.

Piercing light struck against my eyelids. My sight-sounds stopped reflecting off of part of the tunnel, like a hole swallowing the whole world. I threw my tail to the side and flung into it, swinging around a dragon meandering nearby. When my wings burst open next, they were greeted by the warmth of the sun.

Oh, first ones, my heart felt like it would explode, but I had done it!

I couldn’t smell or hear Killed the Sea Serpent anywhere. I hoped she wasn’t too worried. But if she had stopped to follow me, then she would be slowed down just enough to give me a chance.

I breathed in, taking in all the smells around me: ocean-salt, dragons, slight traces of sting-smell, freshwater...and the rich, earthen green of one of the many forests. I knew without my sight-sounds that I was on the other end of the mountain, facing towards a flock of stone arches that were each covered in enormous trees and hanging vines.

Tilting my tailfins down, I rushed ahead, scooping the air with my wings to lift upwards at a shallow angle. The stones arches rose up to meet me.

And behind me, I heard Killed the Sea Serpent shout in relief, “Nameless!”

Adrenaline surged down my spine. I was too out of breath to respond. I could only focus on my wings, the swirling scents, the rushing sounds, and my sight-sounds, the only clear and stable part of this chaotic world.

I ducked between the trunks of the first group of trees and swirled into a pocket in the hanging vines. My wingtips just barely brushed it, and even that was enough to coat them in sticky sap. With my next flap, I shook off the shudder that threatened to surge through me, bringing memories of the last time the vines had trapped me.

The sharp whistle of our species flying at speed rose higher and higher. My chest and wings ached , my lungs burning, but still I threw myself between another bough of trees and over another that was, out of sheer luck, low enough to skirt over.

“Nameless, you scared me!” Killed the Sea Serpent lightly scolded, still just behind and below me. She was flying through the sticky vines, using her sheer speed to keep from tangling. “I thought I would find a dead dragon when I turned around!”

“S—sorry!” I heaved. 

We cleared the last of the stone arches. My sight-sounds reflected off of thousands of leaves, clustered together so tight that I perceived them as an ocean of foliage. We had reached the mountain that carried the forest with the giant oak. It towered just ahead, covered in hanging vines and flowers. The trees closest to it were also very tall and wide-reaching, like a group of patrollers keeping it safe.

Killed the Sea Serpent merely laughed. “Let’s see who gets there first, then!”

She was nearly right under me. There was no time to think; the forest came upon us, and with several flaps of her wings, Killed the Sea Serpent soared above me.

Immediately, I knew her plan: she wanted to fly above the forest and then dive to the oak tree. To do that, she would have to slow down when she reached the grove of trees that surrounded it, picking her way through the branches of the intertwining canopies.

I could never win in that contest. She was just too fast.

I swallowed. It felt like inhaling fire. My wings are strong, I reassured myself. And my sight-sounds are sure.

I tore into the forest. My sight-sounds were met with thousands and thousands of things: leaves, trunks, stray branches, bushes and foliage below, little mice, panicking birds.

Tucking my wings close to me, I powered ahead, focusing only one one thing: what next?

The trunks sheltered close together, like dozens of little swimlings huddling together for warmth. The passage through them was small, sometimes barely bigger than myself.

But I had lived inside smaller, darker, colder paths Under, fighting against currents, unable to breathe or draw in the scents of the lush Above. I knew I could do it, because my life of solitude had dealt me so much worse.

I ducked between the trunks, almost sneezed when a whiff of sting-smell caught in my nose, angled myself into a gap between two large branches, and then pulled myself down until I was just a wing-length off the ground. There, I quickly learned, was where there were less large branches to avoid. The weight of the forest dampened the sound around me, almost like I was Under, so that I could no longer hear where Killed the Sea Serpent was.

This drove me to strain myself even further past my limits, risking tighter and tighter gaps. No dragon of my flock could normally do it—but I was not normal, I had never been normal, and now my small size was all that made my flight possible. The trees shuffled tighter and tighter together, and my wingtips and tail began brushing against the branches, raining dew-drops that had condensed from the daily fogs all across my scales.

The next gap in front of me was almost too small. Gritting my teeth, I twisted sideways, stretched my wings out, and clutched my legs in. The branches grasped at me with little claws, clinging to my legs, and in that moment, I feared I would get caught and kill myself in the resounding crash.

The tree let go. Dragons above cried out in alarm. A clearing spread out in front of me.

I righted myself, drew upright, and flared my wings and tailfins to their full extent. The sudden jolt made my head spin and stomach turn. I had barely a moment to stretch all four legs out before I careened straight into something huge and rough. My paws stung at the sudden slap of force against me. It took all of my strength to hold myself out from it, just barely keeping my head and neck safely stretched backwards. My wings I could not spare. They snapped forward, hugging the massive object, and drooped from the strain.

There must have been a silence, but my heartbeat roared in my ears like an ocean tempest. I sucked in haggard breath after breath, my whole body rocking with exhausted shakes.

I dug my claws into the soft bark of the tree. Then peeked my eyes open.

A wall of reddish-brown haloed in green greeted me. Several bright specks of color sat in the branches above. None of them moved. All of them were watching me.

My throat was too raw to speak. I eased down from the trunk of the great oak and had to fight to keep from collapsing. Instead, I sat with a heavy thump, wings splayed on the cool grass. I hunched over, fighting for breath.

“Are you mad , cursed one?” a dragon cried from above, their voice laced with astonishment and fear. “Why were you flying in the forest at such speed?!”

The spell broke, and the dragons above began to talk among them.

“Is something wrong?!” one dragon shouted, causing an even louder ruckus.

“Was someone chasing you?” another growled. “Who was it?”

I shook my head. “N-no—” I gasped.

The branches far above jostled and groaned. The dragons above shouted again—then hushed, just as they had when I had exploded into their clearing.

I lifted my head and sight-sounded just in time to see her jumping from branch to branch, wings flapping shallowly. Then she jumped behind the trunk, out of sight. The ground vibrated with her landing.

The dragons above whispered.

“That’s her leader,” one said.

“They were racing?”

“They were competing?”

“She lost?”

“What?!” Killed the Sea Serpent yelped. She leapt to her feet, sending another shake through the ground, and trotted around the oak.

Despite myself, I couldn’t help but tense a little when her footsteps came closer. She rounded the trunk, finally caught sight of me, and gasped. She was just close enough that I could see the shock in her eyes, her ears and frills sticking straight up, her jaw gaping. The dragons above began whispering more and more.

“They were racing!”

“The cursed one beat her!”

“When was the last time she lost a race?”

“It was before I was named!”

“She was only ever been beaten by her mate! I was there!”

I lowered my head and ears. In the sheepish tone of a scolded flightling, I whispered, “I think I won.”

Killed the Sea Serpent rushed forward. I jolted, my heart leaping into a fervor once again.

She butted her head to mine, laughing exuberantly, joyously, a sound I had never heard come from her. Before I could even blink, she rubbed her side against mine and helped me to my feet.

“You did!” she cried. “Yes, you did! Well done, nameless! Very well done!”

The shock and fear faded as quickly as they had come. Leaning on her, feeling the warmth of her scales, seeing the pride in her eyes, I fought for words and found none. All I wanted was to grasp this moment in my claws and hold it close forever.

“T-thank you,” I choked.

“For what?” she laughed. “I wasn’t going easy on you. I don’t go easy on anyone. ” This drew a chuckle from the observing dragons above. She wrapped her wing around my body and sat down, urging me to do the same. “I’ll have you know, I haven’t been beat for countless seasons!”

“I told you,” one dragon said to another.

“Looks like you’ve lost your flame, Killed the Sea Serpent!” another teased. “Are you going gray in the scales so early?”

She laughed with a shake of her head. “No,” she said. She turned to me and gazed into my eyes. I found myself lost in the pride in them, as well as…

It was something I’d never thought I’d find, never even allowed myself to hope I’d find . I had only ever seen it with mated pairs and with dragons caring for our young.

Love.

“I’ve just found a dragon who burns brighter.”

o.O.o

When Killed the Sea Serpent woke me up the next morning, I was sore all over.

I groaned. She cuffed my ears.

“Come on, stretch those legs,” she said. “If you inch around like an elder, it’ll only hurt longer.”

With a huff, I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and lifted myself up on aching limbs.

Killed the Sea Serpent grinned. “Come on,” she said. “We’re going down to the lake this morning.”

I almost wanted to groan again. That meant we were doing responsibilities again. With a bleary yawn, I hobbled after Killed the Sea Serpent. Together, we leapt from her warm, soft nest and glided in a slow spiral down to the crystal lake by the willow trees. The sun was just a glimpse on the horizon, casting vibrant golden-orange stripes over the ocean. The Shell was still mostly dark, lit by the soft glow of the crystals and fireflies.

The soft, long grass blades whistled an aimless song as all of our flock gathered. Many were whispering, some even with apprehension. I sat and blinked, eyes half-lidded, and fought down a yawn. Since we had been skipping responsibilities lately, we’d been able to sleep in. I wasn’t used to waking up so early.

A dragon nudged me. I jolted.

“Are you ready?” Fought the Leader asked.

I frowned. “Ready?”

Did she mean…

I stood up straight, sleep-fog gone. No...it wasn’t...was it? A dragon like me, a cursed dragon, could never—

“Everyone!” Killed the Sea Serpent shouted from above, having climbed up onto a small incline that overlooked the lake. “Come over here.”

More flockmates began murmuring. There was bustling and splashing as everyone gathered. Some dragons were instructed to go find the others, especially those who were Under, out on patrol, or deeper in the Shell tending to the swimlings and flightlings. They darted off, flying and swimming with urgency.

We waited. Anxious zings tore down my spine and shuddered in my limbs.

The larger our group grew, the more the whispering rose and rose until it sounded like all the dragons in the Shell were here.

The dragon behind me yelped. Another stumbled into me. I staggered into Fought the Leader, who grunted and helped me stay on my feet.

“Sorry! I was Under because Fought the Leader made me do caretaking!” the nameless male complained, having to shout a little over the crowd. He bounced up and down, grinning toothily. “Is it true?! Are you—”

“Quiet!” Killed the Sea Serpent roared. 

Our whole flock fell deathly still. Dragon wings flapped closer nearby, loud as thunder now. When I sniffed at the air, I caught faint, fresh traces of other dragons on the drifting wind. Those not in our flock were nearby.

Our leader waited even for that to subside before she began. “I’m sure you all know why I’ve called you all to gather,” she began. “To those who have left their responsibilities early, thank you.” She paused. “This has been a long time coming. For many seasons now, our flock has been crippled. We have been wounded, and we did not tend to it. We let it fester. We let an infection spread to our life-blood, which then dug deep into our minds and hearts and has not budged.”

Great Prebirth, the weight of the dragons watching me felt like it would crush me. I lowered my head and ears. My entire body rattled with fearful, apprehensive excitement. The hope in my heart that I had so carefully shushed away began to rage against its constraints.

“Twice now, in only five turnings of the seasons, I have fought others to defend the life of one of our own. Twice now, dragons have turned on them with savage intent, with hardly any protest from their flockmates.” She allowed that to hang in the air before continuing. “Countless times, this same dragon has been the target of unfair, excessive punishments by her named fellows. Worse still, this dragon has been scorned into a life of loneliness.”

Her next sentence was mangled by a growl: “We have treated one of our own as an Outsider.”

The dragons around me murmured. I hunched my shoulders and drew my tail in close.

“The fault is my own,” Killed the Sea Serpent went on. “I have not acted until only recently. I hoped that it would fade away.” Her voice hardened. “I expected our flock, one of the most capable in the Shell, to understand what was real and what was not. I expected for us not to turn on our own, spread rumors, believe the storytellers’ lies, and join in on the outcasting!” Some dragons actually flinched at that, and she gave a satisfied snort. “It is good to feel shame. I feel shame. With shame, comes change. So now, I will treat you all with respect and speak of this plainly, for the last time, instead of stalking around this problem in circles.”

“Five turnings of the seasons ago, the sun and moon disappeared.”

It was so still, so quiet.

“This happened just as a new flightling was brought to the upper levels of the Shell, just as we began seeking a medicine-dragon to look at her eyes. She was blind and small. Her scales were a color none had ever seen in a dragon.”

The nameless male pressed his side close to mine. It was both familiar and unfamiliar now. I glanced at him, meeting his amber eyes. Despite it all, he still looked excited.

I couldn’t stop shaking.

“We thought the world was ending,” Killed the Sea Serpent went on. “Many of us thought we would die. And in that panic, dragons descended to their lowest selves. They became nothing better than the Outsiders which we scorn for their false beliefs.

“And they tried to kill our flightling.”

She let the sentence hang there, head lifted high, magenta scales catching the sun in a dazzling glow. She radiated authority.

“Does that not horrify you?” she asked.

She waited, but nobody dared break the silence.

“You all know why this happened. I call it superstition. Others call it truth. Some believe a blind, white-scaled flightling, newly surfaced in the Shell, somehow made the sun and moon disappear. And I have never acknowledged this.” She lifted her voice even higher. “But what I do not understand—what none of us understand—is what actually caused that event to happen. If any other swimling had emerged that day, would we have tried to kill them, too? Or was it easy to lay the blame on a dragon that was too different to us? 

“The hard truth is that we don’t know. We don’t know why it happened. We don’t know how it happened. We don’t know if it will happen again. So, therefore, we must turn to what we do know. And that is this: the world ended. At that very moment, a swimling became a flightling, was discovered to be blind, and was brought before the other species of dragons in hopes that someone could help her.

“And because of this bad luck, we have treated her as responsible, as an Outsider, for all of her life.”

She opened her wings wide in challenge. “Does anyone disagree?”

Silence.

“I disagree.”

My heart froze. Fought the Leader growled. All heads snapped towards the dragon who had spoken: Defended the Hatchlings.

“You say it is superstition!” he began. “But even the first ones are still present in this world, and they can still send us signs.”

“And what is the meaning of this sign?” Killed the Sea Serpent asked, her voice deathly calm.

I knew once she spoke in that terrifying, emotionless tone that she meant to make an example of him. I hunched closer to the ground.

“That the world may end!” he cried. “When she only lived Under, all was well. But the very day she emerged, where the fake gods can see her, the sun and moon disappeared! I understand your thoughts, Killed the Sea Serpent. I understand that the nameless herself might not have meant to do it, nor even done it.” He raised his voice louder. “But what I cannot believe is that it was mere chance! If she did not end the world that day, then it is a sign that she will bring it to us! It is a sign that the next time it happens, it will last forever!”

This was the common interpretation that the storytellers took on that day. Survived the Storm had told me all about it, down to the philosophical details that made my head spin. She had told me she was trying to change the minds of her mentors, but the story was so popular, there was hardly any effect.

Pure foolishness, she would snort. Making such huge, vague statements that can’t be disproven because it hasn’t happened yet. As silly as one of the prophecies the Outsiders would spout back in older times, I say!

Except, I had wanted to tell her, it wasn’t silly at all.

Because it led to this.

“I was there when the mushrooms seized her. They glow like the crystals of the first ones—they are the living remnants of the first ones! And when she touched them, a madness descended upon her, contorting her body in horrible shapes, and she had to be hidden away in your nest for days! That is a sign that we are right! That is a sign that the first ones meant it! She is the only dragon in all the Shell that the mushrooms poison! How much more could you ask for?!”

The words hurt , because they were wrong, they had to be wrong, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him succeeding, making everyone remember how they had hated me so, forcing me to retreat Under again, hiding away just so I wouldn’t feel the pain of these lies!

I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t deserve to go back!

“ IT WASN’T ME! ” I exploded.

My flockmates around me flinched away in alarm, eyes wide, ears sticking straight up. I fought the urge to cower close to the ground. My heart raged in my chest.

I turned to the direction that Defended the Hatchlings had spoken from. “It wasn’t me,” I choked. “I was only a flightling. And—and—” my throat began to close up. I had to grasp the words and tear them out by force. “And you do not—know what—the world ending—is like. I do!” I sucked in a deep breath, trembling from nose to tailtip. “Because—because—when you are cursed...that’s all you are! You aren’t—aren’t a flockmate, or—or even a dragon! You’re only a—a—a thing! ” Opening my own wings, I cried, “ That is what the world ending is! It is a curse! And—and—!”

I glanced at the nameless male, whose eyes brimmed with sorrow. Fought the Leader had pressed up against me, too, although I hadn’t even noticed it during my shouting. And above, though I could not see her now, in my mind’s eye, I remembered all the times Killed the Sea Serpent and I had spoken about this.

“The first ones didn’t curse me!” I sobbed. “ You did! All of you! And I hope—I hope—you got what you wanted! By making a dragon lose all hope—to make life nothing —if only—only—so you had someone to blame!”

It was all too much. I lowered my head, wracked with despair, and squeezed my eyes shut. Someone ran their tongue over my forehead. I flinched from the comforting touch. Another heavy sob wrenched out of me.

The silence pressed heavy on us all.

“Do you finally see now?” Killed the Sea Serpent eventually growled. “Do all of you see what comes from this kind of thinking? Do you see what happens when we do not condemn it?”

I opened my eyes—and jolted close to the ground. Several of my flockmates had drawn close to me, eyes huge and brimming, some so closed that it would take no effort to touch them. On the other end of our gathering, through the crowd, I could just make out the blurred forms of other dragons grouped away from us.

“ I condemn it!” Killed the Sea Serpent roared. “ I see what we have done to one of our own, and I feel deep shame, and I vow to make it right!” She lifted high upon her hind legs and said in a voice tight with pain, “What say you?!”

Our flockmates roared. Some spread their wings. Others rose to stand tall with her.

“Then we must heal this illness within our ranks!” Killed the Sea Serpent said. “We must let this fever burn itself out! We are better than this! And if the illness runs too deep, then we must do what must be done!” she turned to face Defended the Hatchlings. “Like a limb lost to infection, we must cut it out! ” She remained standing on her hind legs, exposing her vulnerable underbelly in challenge, wings spread out so that she cast a shadow upon him.

The dragons around me cried out and stamped their feet. I could taste the anger on the air, a sharp ozone-smell of gas and lightning.

“Are you willing to heal? Or do you hold on to these superstitions?!”

It took a moment, but the flock fell silent to hear his answer. They turned to face the blurry group opposite us.

When Defended the Hatchlings spoke, his voice was clear and ringing. “They are not superstitions,” he said. “And I cannot agree with ignoring such clear signs from the first ones.” His voice lowered dangerously. “It makes me question whether you are fit to lead.”

A gasp rose amongst our ranks, myself included.

Fire erupted within her maw, making the luminescent scales on her neck gleam like freshly-drawn blood. 

“ Then leave ,” Killed the Sea Serpent snarled. “You and all those who share your falsehoods. I banish you all from our flock, and I will fight you all to the death if I must. Do not test me. ”

My flockmates cried out, lurching in place. My jaw fell open.

As far as I knew, no dragon had ever been banished from our flock. But no dragon had ever challenged her, either.

“K-Killed the Sea Serpent,” Defended the Hatchlings stuttered, backpedaling now. “I—may have spoken too brashly—”

Her fire tore apart the air. The light of the explosion pierced my eyes and tore at my ears. Dragons screamed. Clumps of dirt and water sprayed high into the air.

“ LEAVE! ” she commanded over the panic.

There were no more protests.

With his head hanging low, Defended the Hatchlings rose into the air and out of our midst. Through my sight-sounds, I noticed that his posture was odd, rigid. He must have avoided the fire just in time to save his own life, but not avoid all harm.

He stopped when he was hovering over us all.

Dragons in the crowd looked at each other and murmured.

Then, impossibly…

One of our flockmates rose to meet him. Then another. And another.

The small group hovered, waiting, until there were no more who dared to join them. There were fifteen dragons in all, a sizeable part of our flock. Three entire clutches’ worth of dragons. That would leave us with barely more than thirty, if one did not count the flightlings and swimlings.

They didn’t stay long enough to stoke Killed the Sea Serpent’s rage even further. When it was clear nobody else would join them, they fled.

I watched them go until they blurred like a mirage into the sky-light. A strange sorrow came upon me. They were dragons who had hurt me, who wanted to hurt me. I should feel happy that they were gone. But it burned a blazing wound into my heart, that being asked to treat me as one of them, as undeserving of their cruelty, drove them to do the unthinkable.

A heavy, somber silence stifled the rest of us. Killed the Sea Serpent waited until it was impossible to hear their retreating wingbeats before she spoke again.

“These are the consequences of our own actions,” she announced. “And now, I hope, we have all learned a very important lesson. We can be better. We must be better. And I trust all of you, even those of you who still worry, to do what the banished cannot. Because you are good dragons.” She turned towards me and gestured at me to come forward with her wing. “And because we have one of the best to teach us.”

It took Fought the Leader nudging me in the rump for me to take my first shaking step forward. Quivering all over, I crept up the steep hill that our leader stood upon. My remaining flockmates parted as I passed, each one meeting my eye as I glanced up towards them.

More than one looked away in shame.

“Throughout these past moons, I have worked hard to fix my mistakes,” Killed the Sea Serpent said. I finally made it up to her, and she stretched a wing over me. She faced me, and though she kept her voice raised, her eyes focused completely on me, shimmering with pride. “But I have not worked nearly as much as you.”

I was suddenly fighting down sobs again, my throat welling around a giant lump. Killed the Sea Serpent gave me a warm, gentle smile.

“I have watched you grow from being too terrified to speak to now, today, finally able to stand up for yourself. I have watched you learn to have fun. I have watched you make your first true friends and learn to trust them not to hurt you. I have watched you find confidence in yourself and in your talents.

“Though you have been met with enough hate to harden any dragon, you are still kind, thoughtful, and empathetic. You are an excellent teacher. Even when you are frightened, you find the courage to stand up for others when you think they are in danger. You do everything you can to stop fighting, even if you are the only one to suffer, so that others may not. And though you found no hope in this world, when I asked you to try, even as you told me you did not know how, you still found it. You held onto it, no matter how undeserving you thought you were.”

Though my voice was choked and trembling, I managed to squeeze out, “K-Killed the Sea Serpent…I…”

I don’t deserve this , I wanted to say.

But I didn’t.

Her eyes shone with sorrow and pride. She nodded, as if she could see the decision I made. The decision to be selfish. 

No. No, that wasn’t right.

Was it truly selfish, to want to belong? To reject the hatred and just be , as a dragon in our flock, as one of our own?

“All of this has led up to now,” Killed the Sea Serpent went on. “To yesterday. What was a simple race to me, was several daring acts to you.” She turned to our new flock. “She flew with her eyes closed, all the way from the tallest pillar on this end of the Shell to the giant oak.” A few dragons gasped. She chuckled. “Then, she sight-sounded a cave hidden behind a waterfall and flew straight into it, scaring me half to death!”

A few dragons chuckled with amusement. This seemed to break the horrible, fearful tension that grasped us in our claws. I glanced towards the others with some soft sight-sounds, confirming what I thought I saw: dragons sitting far more relaxed, ears alert only with interest, wings resting lightly against their sides.

“But that wasn’t all!” Killed the Sea Serpent said. “Even then, she wasn’t done scaring me!” She gave me a playful nudge with her wing, drawing a smile to my lips for the first time that day. “Because when we both raced to the forest around the giant oak, instead of flying above it like any sane dragon, she dove into it! And in doing so, she made it through the forest far faster than even me, and she beat me at my own race with plenty of time to spare!”

Our flockmates murmured to each other with shock. The nameless male laughed with delight.

“And so, I think we can all agree,” Killed the Sea Serpent said, “that this dragon has done more than enough to earn her name!”

“She has!” Fought the Leader shouted.

“She has! She has!” the others chanted, as was the custom.

My heart hammered in my ears. I almost felt numb from all of the emotions that had rushed through me in such little time. I couldn’t believe it. I had never even allowed myself to imagine earning a name, and now, here I was…!

Killed the Sea Serpent faced me. “And so, in seeing the world in a new light, and in finding a way that one cannot see when they are blinded by what they choose to look at, I am proud to bestow you your name.”

I met her eyes, shaking all over.

“From now until the first ones welcome you again, you will always be known as Saw Through Closed Eyes.”

My breath caught in my throat. It took all I had to stammer out the traditional words I never thought I would speak. “I am Saw Through Closed Eyes.”

Our flock erupted into cheers, chanting my name— my name! —and rushing up the hill to meet me.

“Saw Through Closed Eyes! Saw Through Closed Eyes! Saw Through Closed Eyes!”

Each of them touched their head to mine and said, “Congratulations, Saw Through Closed Eyes.” And with each gentle nudge, each new greeting, each little lick on the forehead, warmth and safety enveloped me as they never had before.

The nameless male shoved his way to meet me and bonked his head a little too hard against mine. “Congratulations, Saw Through Closed Eyes!” he purred.

“Thank you,” I groaned, rubbing my head with a paw. With a real smile, I met his eyes and said, “Now we only have to get you yours.”

“Tomorrow, for sure,” he said, eyes already lighting with anticipation. “But today is your day.”

Fought the Leader was next. Then, the last few members of our flock. Killed the Sea Serpent was last. But when she retreated with a knowing smile, another dragon stepped in her place.

“Congratulations, Saw Through Closed Eyes!” Survived the Storm squawked, rearing up and crushing her head against mine. “I had a feeling that day! I just knew something would happen! I can’t wait to go and tell this story to all who will listen!”

Fed the Flock emerged from the crowd and opted for a gentle lick on the forehead. “Congratulations, Saw Through Closed Eyes,” she said. “You must be so relieved.”

“Not relieved,” I said, surprising her and even myself. “Just…” I glanced over at my flock, which had retreated back down the hill and was waiting for me.

“Wanted?” Escaped the Monsters spoke up from behind me. I turned to look at him. After a moment’s hesitation, he huffed and poked my head with his nose.

I thought it over, glancing back at my flockmates. All of them were watching, eyes bright, ears raised. It was tradition that a newly-named dragon was the first to assign themselves responsibility. They were waiting for me.

None of them had ever waited for me before.

“Wanted,” I repeated, turning the word over on my tongue. “I think...I think I like that.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Saw Through Closed Eyes

On my first night as a named dragon, I followed Killed the Sea Serpent back to her nest.

She turned to look at me as I landed. A burst of panic rushed through my chest. I stood at the edge of the cave, clutching the crystal with my claws and shallowly flapping my wings to keep my balance.

“Are you coming in?” she asked, almost sounding apprehensive herself.

“May I?” I whispered.

“Of course you may!” I could practically hear her roll her eyes. “Come in before you fall.”

I let out a breath, padding into the nest and nestling down in my usual spot. “Killed the Sea Serpent…thank you.”

She stooped into a stretch before easing herself down next to me. With a gentle run of her tongue over my forehead, she said, “Don’t forget to give yourself credit, too, Saw Through Closed Eyes.”

Saw Through Closed Eyes. My name. I still couldn’t believe it.

“Can we still help the nameless male?” I asked.

“You can do whatever you want, now,” she purred. “But, yes. I intend to help him earn his name next. Hopefully without throwing himself into danger.” She tipped her head aside. “I have a question for you, though. What do you plan to do now?”

I blinked. “I…I want to help raise the swimlings and flightlings, I think. But I like to hunt for everyone, too. And I like going into the Shell with Survived the Storm and the others.”

“Well,” she said with a huge smile, “I’m glad you’ve got so many things to look forward to, then.”

“But, Killed the Sea Serpent,” I said. My chest tightened. “What if…what if I see Defended the Hatchlings or the others?”

She snorted. “Ignore them. They are banished. And I’m sure the storytellers are tripping over their own tails trying to be the first one to spread the news. By the end of this moon, all dragons in the Shell will know who they are and why they were outcasted. Most smart dragons would know to stay away from them, or risk making enemies of the rest of us.”

“But…what if…” I shuffled and looked down. “What if they try to attack me?”

“Your flockmates will defend you. I will defend you.” She nosed me, forcing my head up to look at her. “And, now, you have every right to defend yourself, too.”

“I don’t want any fights,” I mumbled.

“Well,” she chuckled, “you have proven to be one of the fastest dragons in the Shell. So, if they try to hurt you, just outsmart them.”

I nodded, still frowning. “I’ll…try.”

“You don’t have to be alone, Saw Through Closed Eyes,” she reassured me. “You don’t have to go off on your own. And you can always ask others to join you. I will be happy to go into the Shell with you. Although, I must admit, I miss patrol duty.” She laughed when I grimaced. “But, I understand how boring it is for you. My point is,” she butted her head against mine, “you are part of our flock, and your flockmates have chosen to stand by you.”

Wanted. They had wanted me. Or, at least, they had wanted to be fair to me.

I nodded, my head spinning with it all. My world had changed so suddenly, I felt as though it were a dream.

The thought brought something else to mind: the dream-like memory I had uncovered on our first outing into the Shell.

“Killed the Sea Serpent? Do you know where I was hatched?”

She reared her head back, eyes wide. “What?!”

I blinked, too, surprised by her surprise. “I…” I looked down. “I remember… something. I just want to know if going back will help me more.”

For a moment, she said nothing. “What else do you remember?” she asked.

“I remember…being alone,” I said. I tried to go backwards in my mind, peering into the past. “I remember a dragon coming to find me.”

“Do you remember who?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s why I want to go and look, to see if it helps me remember.”

She nodded slowly. Though she kept my gaze, her eyes were distant. “...I see,” she drew out, her voice oddly calm, like a thin sheet of ice over a lake, ready to splinter into thousands of pieces. “But, I must ask…what do you hope to gain from this?”

My eyes drifted from hers. There had been a dragon once who cared for me, who had shown me love.

But then they had left me.

Why? Why would a dragon go through so much effort for a hatchling, only to abandon them to their fate afterwards?

Something about that was wrong, though. I knew more than anyone what kind of harm can come from making such huge assumptions like that. So, instead, I said, “I just want to know.”

“Well…” she said. She was silent, thoughtful, but eventually grimaced. “I’m afraid that I cannot help you much with this. Fought the Leader was one of the dragons who regularly tended to swimlings at the time, just as she does now. I spent all of my time patrolling.” She nosed me. “But, you can do whatever you want, like pestering pester flockmates about showing you where in the Under you hatched. You are a named dragon now. ”

“That’s still so strange to me,” I mumbled.

Killed the Sea Serpent laughed. “It will feel like that for a while. But it sounds like we have a busy day tomorrow.” She laid her head down on her paws and wrapped her tail around me. “How about we get some rest?”

I nodded and settled up against her. The lavender crystal bathed us in a soft glow, radiating warmth like a little sun. The sky outside darkened, casting the Shell into a wash of gentle moonlight.

Killed the Sea Serpent fell asleep almost immediately. I struggled to rest, though, shifting antsily and struggling not to wake her.

What do you hope to gain from this?

Was it better to let a sad story fade away? Would it eat away at me forever if I found out?

My eyes fluttered closed. I tried to bring to mind the memory, but it was shrouded in dream-mists, more of a general feeling of sounds and sensations. The cold, the hard stone, the saltwater-smell, the hunger and fading…the warm tongue, the panicked voice, the comforting scent of another that I had long since forgotten.

Wasn’t it worth it to know who had saved me?

o.O.o

I knew everything had changed…but I was still so unprepared for my new life.

It started normal. Killed the Sea Serpent forced me up, and with the groggy reluctance of a dragon who had stayed awake too late ruminating, I got up and followed her down to the willow grove.

When I landed, my flockmates didn’t move away from me. Some even greeted me.

“Good morning,” I stammered to each of them, fighting to keep myself from hunching low to the ground. The impulse was made even worse by how quiet it was. Normally, our gatherings were accompanied by a light bustle of dragons flying, chattering, and splashing. Now, the only sounds were the soft under-the-breath murmurs between others and the high-pitched whistle of sea-winds through the grass. The scents of the air were duller, some fading, far away, with fewer living scents than I could remember.

The absence of our old flockmates weighed down on us like a paw trapping prey. My ears drooped.

“Good morning, Saw Through Closed Eyes!” the nameless male cried, breaking the silence and drawing a flinch out of myself and several others. He bounded over and ran around me in a circle. “What’s it like being a named dragon now?”

I chuckled. “I don’t know,” I said, twisting my head to try to keep up with his enthusiasm. “Are you ready to find out for yourself?”

He bent low to the ground, wriggling his rump. “I’ve been ready since I became a flightling! Let’s go do some competitions!”

There was a little stir among us. “Remember, nameless,” Raced the Auroras chided, “Saw Through Closed Eyes decides for herself, now.”

“O-oh.” He drooped and lowered his head and eyes, to me . “Um, sorry.”

Panic shot through me. I balked. “No, no, it’s—it’s fine, I—” I glanced at Raced the Auroras, who nodded encouragingly. “I want to go where you think is best.”

“Then you now have permission to compete,” Raced the Auroras said, her voice gentle and stern to the both of us.

“Alright!” the nameless said, leaping upright. “Seems stupid to—” he suddenly stopped, focused in my direction, and said sheepishly, “never mind.”

I turned around and nearly leapt out of my scales to Killed the Sea Serpent standing right next to me. Several of our flockmates snickered.

She chuckled. “Competitions it is, then.”

After making sure responsibilities were spread evenly through our thinned flock, the three of us set out. Luckily, Fought the Leader mentioned that the flightlings would be ready to ascend above the Shell soon, becoming nameless adults. Now, more than ever, we needed that; especially because the last clutch of swimlings were about to ascend themselves.

First, we flew to what was now our usual meeting-grounds with the others: the lake where we had all hunted together for the first time. I was so used to the route that I sight-sounded only to keep watch of any other dragons flying about.

Except, I quickly realized, we were missing someone.

“Where’s Survived the Storm?” I asked as I landed.

Escaped the Monsters grunted and rose from lying down. “She and her mentor watched last night. They’re out telling your naming story throughout the Shell.”

I had forgotten that part of the naming traditions. It was flattering and also nerve-wracking, to think that Survived the Storm was charging through the Shell shouting about me to anyone who would listen. I almost wanted to go find her to stop her, just so that everyone wouldn’t be so focused on me…but they were already doing that, and in a bad way.

My heart lifted when I realized: with Survived the Storm being the one to tell my story…it would be the first good thing any dragon had ever heard about me.

“So she’s almost ready to be a fully-flighted storyteller, then?” Killed the Sea Serpent purred.

“It seems so!” Fed the Flock said, puffing up with pride. “This will be her first time doing it on her own, with her mentor there to watch and guide her.”

“Where is she now?” I wondered, still feeling a little outside of myself.

“Nearby, probably,” Escaped the Monsters said. “She thought that the banished dragons might linger about for some time, so she wanted to offset any rumors they try to spread.”

Warmth swelled through me such that I was rendered speechless. Of course I had worried about the banished, and known they would spread rumors, but wasn’t that the same as always for me? To think that I had someone out there…a friend out there, defending me…

“We must thank her the next time we see her,” Killed the Sea Serpent voiced my thoughts.

After a little more chatting—and a lot of inpatient huffing and puffing from the nameless male—we set off into the Shell.

Was it me, or did dragons fly closer than they did before? Was I imagining how conversations were interrupted with exclamations and descended into whispers as we passed?

We found an area where dragons were competing. Some were racing, some were sparring, some were showing off their flying expertise. Some played games of their own, chasing each other and trying to outwit each other in hunt-and-stalk. Among them all, dragons lounged and chattered.

The conversations hushed when we arrived.

Heedless of our surroundings, the nameless male threw himself forward into the competitions. “Let’s race first!” he cried, his voice already carried off by the wind. After a moment’s hesitation, I lifted my wings and swept after him, not liking that he was flying off all on his own.

We raced for a while, flying in huge loops around this area of the Shell. I found my mind wandering almost immediately after I focused on what was happening. Every shadow that passed over me made me flinch. Every dragon that swooped too close sent my heart racing. Soon, it was too much, and I excused myself from the races on our return and retraced my way back to where our small group was resting.

Escaped the Monsters was currently the only one there; the others were still above. He grunted a short greeting to me as I landed, scooted closer to him, and lied down.

“You seem nervous,” he observed.

“I…” I glanced around, but of course, saw nothing. “I feel like something is watching me.”

“Well, plenty of dragons are staring,” he said, his tone betraying some irritation at their behavior. “I have been watching for some of the banished. I don’t see any nearby.”

A little of the tension eased out of my shoulders and wings. “That’s good,” I said.

“Don’t let your guard down,” he said. “I haven’t seen any, but based on what some of these dragons are saying, they have been nearby.”

Just like that, the tension came back. “Oh,” I said dumbly.

“Stay close to your flock,” he said. “You are named, but don’t go exploring deep into the Shell just yet. If they catch you alone, they will attack you. I don’t like that they stayed near your flock’s territory, not at all.”

“Me neither,” I whispered, hunching close to the ground. Escaped the Monsters shuffled in place so that he nearly stood over me, long neck lifted high, glaring at the dragons who watched us.

“Hey, there!” someone called from afar. Both of us twisted just in time to see—or sight-sound—a stranger drop onto our rocky outcropping. “You’re Saw Through Closed Eyes, right?” He approached eagerly, sniffing all over me.

“Y-yes,” I squeaked, leaning against Escaped the Monsters.

“ Back off, ” he snapped, striking his neck out like a snake and clacking his teeth for good measure.

“Woah!” the male cried, leaping back. “Sorry! I just wanted to see you up close. I heard some storytellers talking about you, and then I saw your white scales and had to see.”

I perked up. “Survived the Storm?”

“Um…” he hummed ponderously. “Female dragon, really loud and makes everything about philosophy?”

“That’s her,” Escaped the Monsters and I both said.

“She said you weren’t really cursed,” the male said, taking another eager step closer. “That you didn’t do anything to cause the sun and moon to die, and that you shamed the banished when you said as much. Is that true?”

“Oh, I don’t—” I began.

“Yes,” Escaped the Monsters interrupted, shooting me a look. “I was there.”

“So, you really didn’t do it?” the male pressed.

I finally found my voice. Straightening up, I stared directly into his eyes. “No. The dragons there just wanted someone to blame.”

“Wow.” He hummed sympathetically, as if it were some small misfortune. “Well, that’s a shame, but better than the alternative. I’d rather live with thinking about it wrong all these seasons than having a cursed dragon in the Shell.”

Frowning, I said, “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

He cocked his head. “The storyteller talked about how you wept with the seasons of pain. Was it really that bad?”

“Are you always so intrusive?” Escaped the Monsters growled, losing patience. “You haven’t even introduced yourself. And to answer your question, again, yes. Survived the Storm was there as well.” He rose even higher, rattling his spines. A whiff of smoke drifted across my nose.

The male lowered his belly to the ground. “S-sorry,” he stammered. “I just—if it was true—that she wasn’t a curse—well, that’s excellent news! It means those banished dragons are wrong!”

My heart dropped. “Where did you see them?”

He clucked his tongue, already forgetting his scolding. “I think…a little ways from here, actually. They were going on about how you would bring ruin to the Shell one way or another.” He paused, considering. “But you are a very small dragon, now that I see you up close…” He sniffed at me again, glanced up at Escaped the Monsters, and flinched. “W-well, thank you. And sorry for all of these seasons of misunderstanding. I’ll be off now.” With that, he bustled away.

Escaped the Monsters snorted. “Some dragons,” he said, shaking his head. “He was far too old to behave like that.”

His voice was like an echo in a cave. I watched the stranger until his form dissolved into the colors of the Shell. “He apologized,” I whispered.

Escaped the Monsters paused. “Yes,” he murmured. He leaned down and nosed me in a rare physical gesture. “He did.”

o.O.o

That night, I slipped out of Killed the Sea Serpent’s nest and glided down to our flock’s gathering place. Leaning down, I took in all of the scents of our flockmates. I centered on the one I needed and traced its path.

It didn’t take too long. I found her nest within a young forest a short flight away from our lake, sheltered in a cave sprouting with glowing crystals and embedded with moss.

Standing at the entrance, I sight-sounded inside and called, “Fought the Leader?”

She jolted awake. “Huh?” Shaking her head, she asked, “Saw Through Closed Eyes?”

“May I…?” I asked, pawing at the entrance.

“Of course, come in,” she said, easing herself upright and stretching.

“Thank you.” I padded in, sniffing appreciatively at the different kinds of mosses and foliage she had brought into her nest to keep it soft. There were not as many decorations as Killed the Sea Serpents; she had no mate yet. Fought the Leader sat patiently, watching me with her pale green eyes. “I, um…” I looked down at my paws and forced them to stop tapping. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

She tilted her head, prompting me to continue.

“Do you know where I was hatched?”

Fought the Leader’s expression stayed calm and curious. “That was many seasons ago,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

I explained it all to her: the memory I had recovered and my conversation with Killed the Sea Serpent. “I just…need to know who it was,” I finished. “I know it’s silly, but…”

“You want closure,” Fought the Leader said. “I understand.” She stared deep, deep, into my eyes. “I do remember that you were hatched last. I remember…” she paused, squinting with thought. “…we thought your egg was dead.”

A wave of horror swept over me. “Dead?!”

“Your egg was cold and smelled of infection,” she explained. She pressed her side into mine sympathetically. “Thank the first ones that we were wrong.”

I shuddered. A dead egg…I had hatched from a dead egg?

“Is that why I am…the way I am?”

“I don’t know,” Fought the Leader assured me. In a more firm voice, she said, “ Nobody will ever know.”

I couldn’t help but stare at my white scales, which shone so bright compared to her blue-black complexion. “I’ve never heard of this happening before. I’ve tended to sick eggs and they always hatched…right.”

Grief blossomed in her eyes. “You’re not wrong , Saw Through Closed Eyes,” she murmured. “But you are correct. No dragon has hatched like you did. But we knew this information would only be used to place further blame on you, especially after you were accused of being cursed. So we spoke of it to no one, and I’m certain you will be wise to do the same.”

“We?” I echoed.

Fought the Leader blinked in surprise and then sighed. “Yes,” she relented, as if I’d pried the answer from her with my claws. “Myself, Killed the Sea Serpent, and…” Her ears and frills drooped. She broke eye contact and looked away. After several hushed breaths, she finished, “Healed the Flightling.”

I recognized the name; she and Killed the Sea Serpent had spoken it after I had woken from my mushroom-sickness. We had just lost Healed the Flightling , our flock leader had said.

“Who is that?”

“He is dead.” She met my gaze, her own eyes deepened with sorrow. “He was Killed the Sea Serpent’s mate. I don’t think she has ever truly recovered from losing him. I suspect that is why she passed you on to me to talk about this. It sounds like she wasn’t very subtle about it.” She managed a weak smile. “Please don’t be cross with her. He took great care to help your egg, even when all of us thought you would die. I don’t think she is ready to talk about him, not even now.”

“Oh,” I breathed, slumping. I hadn’t even thought that our leader’s behavior was odd during our conversation—she had masked it so well, and all the while, I was asking her questions that reminded her of her dead mate.  “What…happened to him?”

“He fell defending her. And that is all you must know,” she said. “It’s a very sensitive subject.”

I frowned. Swimlings form memories early; if a flockmate had died, I might have remembered it, even if I had been very young at the time. “I don’t remember him,” I thought aloud. “If he tended to my egg, then does that mean he died before I hatched?”

Fought the Leader’s expression hardened. “Saw Through Closed Eyes, you are asking questions that cannot be answered.”

I stared at her in confusion. “But I only want to know who it was that saved me,” I protested.

“I know. You must stop.” She refused to look away, her brows knitted together, eyes hard, jaw clenched. “With the banished flying around crying to anyone who would listen that they were wrongfully expelled from our flock, that you will bring destruction upon the Shell…” She shook her head. “The last thing you need is to go hunting for answers that might embolden them.”

“Because of my egg? ” I asked, my head swimming. What did she mean? I could see how it could be used against me—but they could use anything against me, and would. So why did it matter?

Pity flickered through her gaze. “Because dragons loved you so, that they would rather die if it meant you could live,” she said.

I gaped. Instead of warmth, however, cold seeping through my body, from paws to tailtip. “Dragons…died because of me?”

She met my eye. “Killed the Sea Serpent asked you what you hoped to gain from this. She was trying to shield you. But I will be blunt, Saw Through Closed Eyes. You do not have anything to gain but sorrow and misplaced guilt. And now, when you are finally welcomed, and with dragons in the Shell coming to see you as you truly are, I do not want this to weigh down on you.” She leaned towards me and gave me a gentle lick on the forehead.

“What’s done is done. Do not ask questions you don’t want the answer to. Let it rest, so that you may welcome your future.”

o.O.o

The days went on in a blur.

We competed. We hunted. We played games. We patrolled. We even listened to storytellers, as embarrassing as it was to hear my own story told to me and feel the eyes of dragons comparing the real me to the imagined me.

The whole time, Fought the Leader’s words rattled in my head.

They would rather die if it meant you could live.

Whoever had saved me must be gone. It sickened me, deeper and more potent than any mushroom-sickness. It was silly to mourn a dragon I had never met, but I remembered them. I wanted to scream at Fought the Leader to tell me more. I wanted to beg Killed the Sea Serpent to explain. But the thought of hurting her by bringing up memories of her dead mate, and after all she had done for me, silenced the words on my tongue.

What was it that I wanted to gain?

Was the knowledge worth it, if even the slightest understanding sent me reeling, lost in a tempest with no sight of up or down?

The questions lingered around me, twisting and turning through my every conversation with my flockmates.

I wanted to know, but I feared the answer.

Was it so wrong to follow Fought the Leader’s advice?

She and Killed the Sea Serpent seemed to think so. The days of turmoil followed by sleepless nights spoke otherwise.

Now I could see that I had tracked a scent that I shouldn’t have—something that lead to a dead, rotting thing, buried in debris. I should gag and turn away. I should push it from my mind. I should forget, just as I had before.

You don’t have anything to gain but sorrow and misplaced guilt.

But why?

I tried to ignore it. With each sleepless night, fatigue swept upon me sooner the following day. I shouldered it off—or tried to. If I could just find something to occupy my mind, if I spent some time distancing myself from it, then I would feel better. I knew I couldn’t hide Under anymore, but in this case, I wanted to bury it as deep as it could, so that it was surrounded by the cold and dark depths.

And so, with nothing else I could do, I poured my efforts into the one solid task I could grasp in my claws: helping the nameless male earn his name.

The nameless male threw himself into everything he did, but almost as if he could sense my change in mood, he began to grow discouraged. He fought to win every competition. He tried to patrol as far out as he could. He did everything he could to hunt the most.

But, as we all knew, Killed the Sea Serpent was hard to impress.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he moaned to me as we rode the air currents outside of the Shell. 

I jolted; we had been flying in silence, and since there was nothing I could do but stare at blurry clouds on patrol responsibility, my mind had wandered back to my conversation with Fought the Leader. We were near the end of our patrol responsibility, the sun inching its way down towards the horizon. 

“All of my clutchmates are named,” he went on, having not noticed that my mind had been elsewhere. “With the flightlings about to become adults, I’ll be the oldest nameless!”

“Don’t worry,” I soothed him. “You’re working so hard, it’s only a matter of time.”

“But even with Killed the Sea Serpent’s help, I still don’t have one. “ He sighed, ears and legs drooping. “I don’t know how you lived through it for so long. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of always being talked down to, being the last to eat, not being able to explore, needing permission to compete and play!”

The frustration in his voice snapped me alert. “I…didn’t know it upset you so much,” I said.

“It was different before. You deserved to get your name first, and I thought I would get mine right after you. It didn’t even bother me until…” he trailed off, and then guilt and shame filled his voice. “…you were named, and then, other dragons started telling me I had to act different around you.”

Now I was slumping, too. I angled myself closer so that I could brush my wingtip against his. “I don’t like it at all, either,” I said. “That’s why I want to help you get your name, so everything can go back to normal.”

“Not normal,” he said. “ Better than normal!”

“That’s right,” I said with a small smile.

From afar, Killed the Sea Serpent shouted, “Alright, everyone, time to fly back!”

Just like that, the nameless male’s enthusiasm faded. “I guess we’ll try tomorrow,” he murmured.

We returned to our flock’s lake. I sat next to the nameless male as those on hunting responsibility brought us some food. It didn’t matter to me if I got less; I would wait, if that made him feel better.

My plan failed almost immediately.

“Saw Through Closed Eyes, come get your food!” Chased the Auroras called.

I winced. “O-oh, um…” I began.

“Go on,” the nameless male interrupted, nudging me.

I pushed him back. “I want to eat with you.”

He shoved his shoulder against mine, this time with an urgent glance at the named dragons. “ Go. ”

I turned and sight-sounded towards them. All of them had stopped eating to watch.

Though I had made the decision to hold back, I knew without a doubt that they would blame him.

My ears and frills drooped. I got up. “Sorry,” I murmured, and walked over to get my meal, head low and tail dragging. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered back. But his gaze bore into my back, sending prickles down my spine.

Though I didn’t eat much, the others had a big appetite. When we were done, there was hardly anything left for him.

o.O.o

Toothless

It was late evening on the second day with the sea-dragon. The sun was setting against a swath of oncoming stormclouds, a brilliant orange streak against the daunting gray-green of the fierce storm. In the far distance, a mirage of mountains poked just above the horizon. They were nearly as pale as the sky, almost completely obscured by the atmosphere. Hiccup couldn’t see them yet, and the King only knew they were there when he used his looking-thing. To me, they commanded all of my thoughts and attention.

There. That was where Shadow-Blenders had last been seen. Right there, just out of reach.

We were simply sitting around, and it was driving me insane. The sea-dragon carried us shockingly fast, but I wanted to leap and fly! Instead, we were forced to wait, only taking to the wind for fun or to hunt. I paced along the spine we had lied upon, eyes flicking to the southern mountains every few seconds.

My paw landed on something warm and smooth.

“Ow!” Haugaeldr yelped, jolting awake. He’d spent all day with the Deep-Swimmer hatchlings, playing games with them to his heart’s content, and had fallen asleep not too long ago. He snapped his serpentine tail away and pinned his long, rabbit-like ears at me.  “ Toothless! ”

“Sorry!” I said, grimacing.

“Toothless, settle down. You’re making me anxious,” the King scolded. He and Hiccup were hunched over the Book of “Dragonese” and talking about grammar. Which was riveting. 

“And you’re wearing a trench into the sea-dragon’s spine,” Hiccup teased.

I shot a worried glance between my legs, just to make sure it wasn’t true. With eggs to take care of, the sea-dragon’s generosity in escorting us had not been lost on me. I would hate to leave her with bad memories of us.

“Sorry,” I sighed again, stepping carefully over a grumbling Haugaeldr and settling down next to my brother and his father. “It’s so hard to think about anything else now.”

“Help us out with this, for now,” Hiccup said. “It’ll keep your mind off of it.”

He was teaching the King about the tones of dragon-tongue. These were different than overtones, which were sounds on top of other sounds…much to the King’s confusion. Every dragon-sound was set either in a high-pitched, medium-pitched, and low-pitched tone. When speaking, each sound could travel in six different ways: staying the same, ascending, descending, bouncing high to low, bouncing low to high, or trilling. Each variation changed the meaning of the sound. The starting and ending tone were important as well; for example, a high-bounce could start at low, bounce to high, and end back either on low or medium tones. This simple difference changed the interpretation. When multiple sounds came together to form singular thoughts, the variations became daunting and endless.

Hiccup and the King were working on the simple syntax—or, the grammar—of the tones, making sure the King could identify them. However, Hiccup was already dabbling in simple words, sometimes getting ahead of himself by describing different verb tenses and conjugations. All of it made my head spin; I pitied the poor King, who was charging headlong into the language like an overconfident yearling.

I began my job as “official sound repeater”, showing the King what each variation sounded like, starting at each baseline tone. This was a trilling warble and all its relatives. This was an ascending whistle, starting from low and medium. This was a neutral growl-bark at all three tones. This was a trilling roar-bark, again at all three tones. This was a high-bounce hum. This was a descending grunt. This was a low-bounce groan. And so on and so on.

When that got old, we took a break. And by “break”, Hiccup meant “changing topics”. Now that the King recognized dragon sounds and tones, he spent nearly half his time pounding words into the poor human’s head and forcing him—and me—to repeat them over and over.

It was incredible. Really, it was. The King could understand and even produce dragon-tongue. Staggered, drawn-out, slow, repetitive dragon-tongue. But dragon-tongue nonetheless.

…but my heart wasn’t in it. Hiccup and the King had to ask me to pay attention multiple times, and somehow, my eyes continued to stray to the mountains on their own accord. Finally, after the fifth time of being snapped back to attention, I groaned, “I don’t think this is helping much.”

A blast of freezing wind came from the direction of the storm. The cold front had reached us; the storm would follow soon.

Hiccup shivered and pressed up against me. “You must be really excited.”

“And anxious. And worried. And hopeful,” I listed off, much to Hiccup’s rising amusement and sympathy as he translated. My tail swung back and forth and my wings fluttered. “What if they’re not there? What if they are there?”

“We’ll find out when it happens,” the King said, putting a reassuring paw on my forehead. “For now, the focus is on getting there. The sea-dragon said we would reach the end of her territory tomorrow, didn’t she?”

“At approximately high sun, roughly ten hours into the morning, yes,” Haugaeldr added sleepily, his eyes still closed.

“So that is when we head to the mountains?” I said hopefully, already knowing the King’s answer.

“No,” the King said. “We fly only at night now. I’ll not have us spotted.”

I threw my head back and moaned. That meant we would have to wait an entire half-day to get started. An entire half-day to sit around, steeping in anxiety and nervous energy.

“Patience, Toothless,” the King laughed. “We shouldn’t be rushing into such a dangerous place just because it took us a long time to get here.”

“I am patient!” I said. He lifted an eyebrow. Haugaeldr snickered.

“ It is fine ,” Hiccup purred. “Just a little more waiting.”

“I fear there may be more than a little,” came a muffled, piping voice from below: the sea-dragon. Her spines swayed like a forest of trees in a hurricane. She lifted her head out of the water, carrying waterfalls down her frills and spines. She shook the last of the sea-water away with a gargantuan flick of her head. Twisting around to peer at us, she said, “I can hear many ships moving in the water ahead. Three, by my count. They are large and have human machines on them.”