Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: This is Berk

This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death. It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery. In the time that seven generations of Vikings have called the isle home, much has changed; what was once a haphazard collection of constantly replaced huts is now a sprawling village filled with shops and longhouses, a thriving community of hardworking people, and a refuge of peace in often hazardous seas. The Vikings of Berk were never ones to flee the storm, be it the onslaughts of nature or years upon years of dragon raids. The aftermath of Drago Bludvist’s attack was no exception; while the damage caused by the Bewilderbeast was extensive, both Vikings and dragons worked to rebuild their island home anew. Almost five months have passed since the island’s new chief—and the new Alpha dragon, who commanded the nest—took charge, and Berk is almost completely back to normal. The buildings are repaired, the piles of ice cleared, the ships freshly replaced. The only exception was the intricate stone statue that now towered over the entrance to the Great Hall, commemorating Stoick the Vast, whose leadership and sacrifice would be honored for years to come.

As evening approached on another day of construction, the village began to quiet and darken as its inhabitants headed home. Laborers headed to the Great Hall to feast while their dragons took to the skies to fish or roam the air, while others headed home to spend time with their families. The faint flapping of wings could still be heard as other dragons took to patrolling the sentry statues that surrounded the island; some did so at their Alpha’s command to watch for danger, while others simply found enjoyment in stretching their wings or wanted a place to perch outside the crowded and noisy roofs of the village. The additional dragons from the Bewilderbeast nest had integrated themselves well with the island’s inhabitants, although some had elected to roam wild rather than join a nest so intertwined with a human village. The remainder had either bonded with riders or found homes in the vast forests and rocky outcroppings on Berk’s unpopulated side. Despite all the trials and tribulations of late, life here was shaping up to be just as amazing as it had been in recent years. Its people were happy and united—Viking and dragon—as another day came to a close, with many turning in for a night of rest. 

Except for one Viking.

While the rest of the village settled in, the forge was still open; flickering lights could be seen through the open windows. The clanging of steel and hiss of steam could be faintly heard from outside as Hiccup Haddock, the young chief of Berk, finally found time to indulge in his craft while his people turned in for the night. With all the construction and village business to attend to—not even mentioning time spent ruling on petty disputes and squabbles that demanded his ruling—Hiccup found it increasingly difficult to find time for himself. Although he was perfectly happy to hear every villager’s requests and was extremely proud of the speed and scope of Berk’s repairs, the evening served as the only time lately where Hiccup could return to his craft.

Having finished pounding the metal into the desired shape, Hiccup gently quenched the blade-shaped piece in the water. Stifling a cough as his face was enveloped with steam, Hiccup thought about the day he landed with Toothless at this very forge to sound the alarm of dragon hunters to his father. At the time, his warnings of Drago had interrupted Stoick’s chiefing lesson, but Hiccup found himself thinking back to his father’s words as he worked. No task is too small when it comes to serving your people, Stoick had said as he hustled around the forge, taking requests from villagers lined up at the window. Hiccup smiled at the thought; despite their arguments to the contrary, he did listen to his father after all. Being chief was tiring and time-consuming, to be sure, but it filled Hiccup with both joy and pride to serve his village as his father had done.

Thankfully, no one would likely call on him at this hour, which gave Hiccup plenty of time to finish his latest pet project. While he waited for the sword blade to cool on the anvil, Hiccup strode to the workbench and pulled a wooden box from a top shelf and gently poured out the contents: several turquoise and emerald jewels, a plain wooden handle, some binding cord, and whittling tools. As he began to carve runes and placeholders for the gemstones, Hiccup began daydreaming about the intended purpose of the weapon. His wedding to Astrid had been postponed by recent events—again—but in a matter of weeks, that would change, and this sword would hopefully serve as the heirloom of their new life together. It also served as closure for the passing of Stoick; it was tradition to present a sword retrieved from one’s ancestors at the ceremony, and Hiccup could think of no one more fitting.

Getting the sword had been tricky at first; while the late chief had been buried at sea, Hiccup had recalled his father wielding a sword at some point during the first battle with the Red Death dragon. The month prior, Hiccup and Toothless had finally managed to catch a break, flying off to retrieve it while leaving Astrid and Stormfly in charge. The day trip was much needed as the two old friends had not flown together in weeks, and despite the somber objective, a feeling of old times was upon them. They found the weapon in a snowdrift not far from where Stoick fell, and Hiccup liked to imagine that Toothless had found some closure as well; dragons couldn’t talk, but Hiccup knew well enough that his best friend still felt incredible guilt, despite all being forgiven. Finishing the pommel, Hiccup sighed and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms back with a yawn. I wonder what he’s doing now, he thought. Toothless frequently came home at night and visited him sometimes during the day, but the life of an Alpha dragon was likely fraught with stress; Hiccup was all too happy to provide him with his self-steering prosthetic, and the Night Fury had taken to flying by himself often.

Looking back at his handiwork, Hiccup gathered the blade and pommel materials and found a longer box to put them in. The sword could wait until another time. Tucking the box behind the shelf where he knew Gobber wouldn’t notice, Hiccup closed up shop and doused the flames. It was high time he rejoined Astrid at home and called it a night, and, feeling a low growl from his stomach, the young Viking reminded himself that it had been many hours since he had eaten. Stepping out into the street, Hiccup breathed in the cool air as he set off for home; winter was almost here. Thankfully, the crops and other food stores had not been the object of the Bewilderbeast’s onslaught, and Berk’s chief found himself counting his blessings as he strolled through his rebuilt village.

While Hiccup sought out the comforts of family and fellowship, his dragon counterpart was doing the exact opposite. On the other side of the island, a shadowy mass glided through the forest, not even making a whisper as the coal-black dragon twisted and turned through woodland obstacles. Toothless needed to make little effort to go unseen—owing both to his aerial skills and his natural affinity for stealth as a Night Fury—yet he was being especially meticulous to go unnoticed by… well, everyone. The young Alpha was agitated beyond belief, desperately seeking the one thing that seemed to elude him daily: peace and quiet. Assured that he had drawn no attention to himself, Toothless quickly darted over a rocky outcropping to arrive at his destination. The cove was dimly lit as the full moon cast a pale light across the pond, with the reflection of vast arrays of stars sparkling across the surface. With so many dragons now inhabiting Berk, Toothless felt extremely lucky that this place continued to remain secret, a location where he—and occasionally Hiccup—could escape the annoyance and hustle of village life to return to nature’s peace.

A well-placed stream of plasma bathed the ground in tendrils of bright color, and the gentle heat cut through the chill evening breeze. Loose embers fizzled in the cool air as Toothless curled up on the ashy mound. He let a brief laugh escape him; there was a time when the Night Fury would’ve fought 100 dragons just to escape the confines of this cove, but that was many years ago. Much had changed for better and for worse, and as Toothless allowed his muscles to relax, he let the frustrations of recent months flood across his imagination. Being the Alpha of a nest was not anything like he had envisioned it, not that it had ever crossed his mind even before he shattered the tusk off of the charred Bewilderbeast. He had always been content with the respect and admiration of the other dragon residents of Berk, but never had he been in a position of near-absolute responsibility over them. Toothless shook his head as he let loose a yawn, trying to reconcile his displeasure. He had spared no time thinking of consequences when he stood to defend Hiccup and the island that day, nor would he think of taking it back for one second. But with the threat of imminent danger long passed, Toothless was forced to address the truth. He felt grounded again, tied down by the weight of being Alpha.

The honor and thrill that came with being the respected leader of a nest had long faded; while Toothless doubtless put great effort into meeting the needs of the island’s dragons, there were a litany of inconveniences and just plain stupidity that now plagued his day-to-day life. Coexistence with humans had done little to change the fact that dragons were predators and frequently found excuses to fight each other, and rarely could Toothless go throughout the day without being called to be the deciding factor in a conflict that any intelligent creature could solve simply by leaving and finding somewhere else to live. Why does a Zippleback need this particular tree to sleep in, on an island covered in no small part by—you guessed it—trees? No, the Scauldrons do not have exclusive rights to the harbor water, especially when those waters are where the large sea dragons fit the least and damage the ships. Tight living in a nest was by no means abnormal, but Toothless imagined that the more time the dragons spent watching human society, the more they themselves forgot their inherent differences in lifestyle.

Rolling onto his back, the Night Fury took in the wide expanse of starlight that bathed the night sky. If he didn’t feel so exhausted, he would be up there aimlessly gliding through the sparse clouds. He didn’t belong down here ruling over large swathes of dragons; he was a Night Fury, a creature of solitude, and only Hiccup and his closest friends had any right to demand that he give up his wild nature. Toothless missed the days where he and Hiccup could roam the skies in search of new islands, or even further back to the numerous adventures and escapades on Dragon’s Edge. That was the life he saw for himself—a life of adventure, of adapting to the unexpected. And the responsibility of Alpha was slowly burying it in routines and trivial matters.

And I have no one to share it with.

Toothless tried to bury the thought the moment it slipped out of his subconscious. He had Hiccup, after all, and the friends he had made on Berk—human and dragon. But the obvious truth still lingered; in all this time, in all that he had discovered and experienced with Hiccup, he still had found no evidence of his own kind. The young dragon groaned as he shifted into a more comfortable position, hoping that fatigue would eventually calm his rapidly questioning brain. He was still in the prime of his youth, not even twenty-two years of age, and the world remained a vast and unexplored place. But despite his attempts to conjure some optimism, Toothless found himself wishing for any sign—no, any evidence at all—of something pointing to the existence of other Night Furies. His friendship with Hiccup meant more to him than he could describe, and he would continue to rule as Alpha for as long as he was able. But what Toothless wouldn’t give for an adventure, a glimpse into the unknown, and even more, a glimpse at another Night Fury.

However, those hopes would have to endure for another time, as sleep finally came for the night.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Out of the Shadows

The cove was quiet, apart from the distant rustling of trees and the occasional chatter of nocturnal animals. Toothless had been in a deep sleep for several hours and showed no sign of waking, as dawn was still a good way off. The pond glittered with waves of light as the aurora borealis danced across the sky, like strokes of a painting conjured up by the hand of the gods. A tapestry of color reflected off the surface, bathing the cove in warm hues without a sound, as the Night Fury continued to sleep uninterrupted.

The bright array of colors was suddenly interrupted as a dark shadow, with a small streak of sapphire, passed over the surface. A dragon, black as night, circled the cove, finally landing a short distance away from Toothless without so much as a rustle of grass. The only perceptible sound was a sigh of relief, as the mysterious dragon had clearly found what they were looking for. Quietly approaching the slumbering Alpha dragon, the visitor leaned back on all fours and stood there awkwardly in silence, debating their next course of action. Finally, after seemingly mustering up the courage, the dragon whispered, “Hey, wake up.”

No response. Toothless was out cold.

“Please wake up, I really need to talk to you!” the dragon pleaded, a hint of urgency in its voice.

Nothing.

Something cold and pointy prodded the side of Toothless’s neck, not violently but definitely hard enough to get his attention. The Alpha jolted awake in a panic, firing off a blast of plasma in the direction the unwelcome interruption had come from. A shriek of surprise cut across the silent night as the shot met with air, flying to the opposite wall of the cove and exploding in a shower of rocky fragments. Whoever had stirred Toothless awake had managed to leap behind one of the large boulders that lined the far edges of the cove, their stealth now nonexistent as the Night Fury seethed with anger. Of all the things I didn’t need… Toothless knew keeping this cove a secret was too good to be true, but by the ancestors, he would have words with whoever needed so desperately to wake him up. He bared his teeth, wings raised in a clear message of attack. 

“Come out right now!”

“Only if you promise not to shoot me! Geez, relax, jumpy…” A faint curse could be heard uttered from behind the rock.

Toothless snapped back, “Hey, you’re the one who woke me, and no one’s supposed to know about this place!”

“I’m waiting…”

“Fine, I promise. Come on out.”

The dark figure stepped out into the moonlight, and Toothless’s expression quickly went from irritation to complete shock. The coal-black dragon was slightly smaller than him, with a more slender build and fewer spines. But as the visitor fully emerged to stand in front of him, Toothless wondered if his eyes were playing a trick on him. Another Night Fury stood before him, virtually identical apart from the bright sapphire irises that made contact with his own forest-green eyes. Not only that, but as he took in the scent of his intrusive guest, an unfamiliar feeling crept into his chest: a female.

Toothless was quickly snapped out of his shock as the young female verbally launched into him; “You almost hit me! I’ve been waiting for a chance to talk to you in private for days, and this is the welcome I get? I even tried to wake you nicely. I came all this way, and you’re the first Night Fury I’ve seen in months, and this is what I get for my trouble…”

The young Alpha blinked. First Night Fury? Months? Then he started. “Wait, hold on. Days? How long have you been following me? Who even are you?!”

The blue-eyed dragon looked at the ground sheepishly. “I got here four days ago.”

“And you didn’t think to come find me while I was awake?! If you needed to talk so badly, you could’ve said something other than waiting to poke me in my sleep!” he exclaimed, lowering his wings from their stance of fight-or-flight.

The newcomer’s irritation was quickly replaced by embarrassment. “Well, you looked really busy, and I’m not just dropping into a human village! What’s the big deal? You look like I’m the first Night Fury you’ve ever seen—”

“You are!” Toothless interrupted, and her rebuttal died out. 

The words hung in the air between them, and he couldn’t shake the strange mixture of awkwardness and desperation that sat in his stomach. He had imagined a moment like this for ages, a chance for answers, but was now wholly unprepared for it.

Her eyes widened in embarrassment. “Oh…I didn’t…I’m sorry! I mean, not even your parents?”

Toothless shook his head. Years of servitude to the Red Death had taken their toll, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he had been able to conjure up clear memories of family. Blurred shapes, voices, but never a clear picture.

The other Night Fury stood silently for a moment before clearing her throat. “Forgive me,” she begged. “I didn’t mean to pry. My name’s Ash, by the way.”

“Toothless. Nice to meet you.” He received a strange look from the female, like she was holding back a laugh. “I didn’t choose it,” he started. “It’s just…grown on me, that’s all.”

Ash let out a giggle. “I’ll take your word for it.”

The growing list of questions that had been accruing in Toothless’s head came back to the forefront. “You said you haven’t seen another Night Fury in months? How far have you flown to find this place?” he questioned.

Taking a moment to answer, Ash replied, “Well, it’s probably around two weeks of flying south by southeast to get here, but I didn’t take a straight shot! I spent a lot of time searching for…well, it’s a long story…”

“We’ve got time before dawn. I’ll listen.” Curling back up in his makeshift bed, Toothless eyed Ash with an inquisitive look. “C’mon, spill. You said you needed to talk to me, but I need details.”

Ash took a moment, then faintly scorched the earth in front of her with a tongue of fire. Making herself comfortable, she began to talk. 

“I come from an archipelago called Mystholm. You probably haven’t heard of it. Humans don’t live close, and those that do steer clear of it. It has a reputation for being…well, dangerous. That’s where Night Furies are from! There aren’t a lot of us, though, and we’re divided up into three colonies, or tribes.” 

Ash took a moment to breathe, aimlessly drawing circles in the dirt with a paw. “The colonies don’t get along well. I’m from an island called Aylan, where we try to avoid trouble with outsiders as much as possible. The Night Furies on Seregon don’t like outsiders either, but they’d prefer to wipe out anything that doesn’t have black scales. And then there's the Watchers…” She paused, a hint of both displeasure and admiration in her voice. “They have an island, too, but they prefer to fly as a pack for long stretches, fighting so-called oppressors and dragon hunters and whatnot.”

Toothless squinted, confused. “Oppressors? What do you mean?”

“Some Night Furies say they roam the skies searching for places where dragons, or even humans, are tyrannized. Then they destroy the place and set them free. No one’s really sure why, or who leads them. Just that if you want to find and fight bad people, you can join them. It sounds kinda cool, except they’re the whole reason I’m here!” Ash exclaimed, burying her face in her paws in frustration. “Apparently, they went and destroyed some huge human city, and now a fleet of dragon hunters might be trying to find out where they came from. If they think to enter Mystholm, we’ll get discovered, and then there could be a war!”

Toothless thought hard. His own experience with dragon hunters had proven dangerous and costly, especially with a clever leader like Viggo Grimborn had been. But against a few colonies of Night Furies? “Surely they couldn’t pose that much of a threat to all of you? Even if they did find you, that seems unlikely.”

Ash groaned. “Maybe all together, but I already told you we’re divided! My island won’t agree to take the fight to the humans, Seregon refuses to ally with us and would probably provoke the humans more, and no one knows what the Watchers would do! They could just leave and find somewhere else while the rest of us get picked off. All the hunters have to do is pick us off slowly!” Ash looked increasingly nervous. “And we can’t just leave. Some of us are too proud, and moving hatchlings in a large group is dangerous!”

“This is a stretch, but there are plenty of islands up here that are uninhabited,” Toothless countered, “and most of the humans around here are peaceful. If it was that dire, there are plenty of places to go.”

“You’re right, but good luck convincing my people to do that,” Ash said dryly. “It’s mostly Seregon. They won’t move, they won’t listen, they prefer to stand and fight. They have…stubbornness issues.” She continued tracing shapes in the dirt, which looked to Toothless like an attempt to calm her nerves. “My elder used to tell me stories, you know. Of a time a century ago when Night Furies were united in one nest. We used to live together, she said, and ruled the whole of Mystholm like our own kingdom. We even had a king, the strongest Night Fury of them all!” She gazed off into the distance, taking in the spectrum of color that had continued to cover the pond. “And look at us now: broken up, too proud to just sit down and decide what to do. New eggs don’t happen very often, and we’re smart, but that doesn’t make us invincible. There are only a couple hundred of us in each group, maybe a thousand or two total. If we start a war with humans, it’s all gone! That’s why I left.”

A moment of silence passed as Toothless attempted to process all the information he had been given. “I thought if I could find other dragons to help us, we wouldn’t be so vulnerable. Except there aren’t a whole lot of large nests between here and Mystholm, mostly empty rock and sea…” Ash trailed off, deep in thought, until she picked back up brightly. “…until I met some Changewings forming a nest on an island about a week south. They told me they had left a place called Berk. They asked where I was headed, and when I mentioned I was looking for help, they said there was apparently a Night Fury here! An Alpha dragon, no less.”

“Which led you to me,” Toothless concluded. “So let me get this straight. You want to stop a potential dragon hunter invasion, but the other Night Furies won’t band together to save themselves. And you want me to do what, exactly?”

“I want you to come back with me. The other Night Furies will only accept help from one of their own, and you might be able to negotiate as an outsider since there’s no bad blood with you.” Ash looked at Toothless firmly. “And maybe we can get you some answers about where you come from! Some elders have lived a long time and have a good memory; maybe they could help you.”

Toothless sighed. Here was an opportunity he could not pass up, yet now that it was here he found himself fearing to leave Berk, especially Hiccup. “If I choose to go, I’d be leaving a lot behind. I have friends here, and the Alpha can’t just leave for too long before things start to go south.”

“I’m not asking you to stay! I mean…if you wanted to…” Ash sputtered, “…but I’m afraid, and I need to do something about this! People thought I was overreacting and called me crazy for leaving, but we aren’t safe!”

Taking a moment to think, Toothless got up and moved to the pond. This conversation had him starved. As he scouted for a potential meal, he questioned again. “I still don’t understand the whole deal with these different nests. How can there be that much bad blood between them? They can’t be that different.”

“Yes, they can,” Ash countered, “but it goes beyond location. There’s…well…” 

Silence.

“C’mon, you can tell me.”

“There’s magic involved.”

One could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Toothless wasn’t sure exactly what he expected to hear, but that definitely wasn’t it. 

“Magic.”

Ash looked distraught. “Please don’t laugh…”

“I won’t, but forgive me if I’m skeptical. Magic? Really?”

Ash relaxed. “Yes, magic. At least that’s the most accurate word I can use to describe it. I told you Mystholm has a reputation for being dangerous, but it also has one for potential magical power. The stories my elder told me also spoke of how older Night Furies discovered some magical artifacts, and it caused a giant war called the Cataclysm. That’s what apparently split us up.” Ash looked at Toothless’s deadpan expression. “I’m not making this up! Magic is a real thing, or at least there’s some of it there.”

“Define ‘some of it,’” Toothless inquired.

“Well, I’ve only ever seen one magical artifact,” Ash admitted. “It’s on Aylan. We call it a dragonstone. Our island is teeming with life, and it probably has something to do with the stone’s power. We bring our injured to it, and their ailments are healed! It doesn’t really do anything more than that, to be honest.” 

Stretching, Ash came to join Toothless at the pond’s edge. “No one knows if the Watchers have any, but the important part is that Seregon has none. They see our stone as an affront, a symbol that makes us better than them. They’ve attacked us over the years to destroy it, but it’s never even been damaged. But our living people have been.” 

Taking a break to snap up a fish, Ash quickly devoured it before continuing. “I had hoped that I would find one to give to them; maybe that could help us unite. But that was wishful thinking. I don’t know how to convince everyone to band together when we’ve been fighting each other for years, and the Night Furies that don’t fight each other run off to join the Watchers and fight others instead!”

The blue-eyed dragon turned, making direct eye contact with Toothless. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I don’t even know if it’s my place to do anything! But I’m doing something! I can’t sit around while hunters come for us all!”

“Will you help or not?”

The Alpha was silent. He wasn’t sure if there was anything he could do, if he could convince these Night Furies to join together even if he was one of them. At the very least, maybe there was a way to throw the dragon hunters off the trail, if they were even close to finding Mystholm at all. But if the threat was as big as Ash believed, something had to be done. And the chance at exploring a new land was extremely tempting, possibly once in a lifetime. This could change everything, and perhaps this was also a sign to convince Toothless that Berk could survive without him for a short while. 

“I’ll try.”

Ash’s eyes widened, and before Toothless knew it, she rammed into him with a burst of speed, causing the larger dragon to stumble back a few steps. “Thank you! You can’t imagine how relieved I am!” she exclaimed, nuzzling Toothless’s head with her own.

Toothless stiffened but found himself relaxing to her touch. After all she had shared, he could imagine quite a lot.

Several Hours Later…

“So let me break this all down. You just met another Night Fury—a girl—the first that you or any of us have ever seen. And the first thing she does is ask you to take a long journey to convince a bunch of feuding Night Furies to band together to prevent a human attack that they might have caused, all in the name of keeping their home hidden and preventing their extinction. Oh, and the place you’re going has magic there, apparently.”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” Toothless replied.

Having called his closest dragon friends to the arena that afternoon, the Alpha wasn’t sure what he expected their reactions to be. Hookfang—ever blunt—had summed up his story with a skeptical tone. Stormfly had a look of suspicion in her eyes. The Zippleback twins were fighting in the background, as usual. Meatlug was listening intently, as was Cloudjumper, although to human eyes he would appear asleep — lounging on the rocky outcropping above the main pit. Ash had elected to remain in the cove, and Toothless had agreed to return that evening for them to get on their way. But he couldn’t drop off the face of Berk, not without informing those closest to him.

“I’m so happy for you! I’m sure you’ve wanted a Night Fury to come into your life for some time, even if the circumstances are a bit weird,” Meatlug praised, earning a warm smile from Toothless. Ever the gentle heart, he thought.

“I’m happy for you, too, but this still seems a little strange,” Stormfly remarked. “Anyone else find it weird that there are so few Night Furies in this new place, despite it being virtually unknown to everyone else? And for all this time, too.”

“Well, not every dragon lays eggs as often as others; Stealth dragons, even less so,” Meatlug countered. “They could be having mating problems if they’re split up like Ash said.”

“And don’t forget the Cataclysm! The all-devouring apocalyptic event recited by their elders! The calamity of the ages that split the kingdom!” Barf shouted, startling the group before he resumed attempting to strangle Belch.

Hookfang snarled, “Of course, that’s the only part you listened to! Save your drama for telling hatchlings a story.”

“What if he ain’t being dramatic?” said Belch as he twisted his neck free of his conjoined twin. “Giant war equals endangered species, don’t you think? Especially if they fought over these magic stones or whatever.”

“You actually think this place has magic?” the Nadder prodded again.

Hookfang laughed, but his expression was sober. “Humans fool around with their gods and magic all the time, even if they’re not real. Doesn’t mean dragons didn’t find something that actually is, especially if Mystholm is so secret.”

“Cloudjumper, you’ve been quiet. Speak up. We all want to hear your thoughts,” Toothless prompted from overhead.

Four wings unfolded as the senior dragon climbed down to their level like an oversized bat. Although their first meeting had been full of fury, Toothless had come to rely a great deal on the Stormcutter’s wisdom. 

“The tale is somewhat strange, to be sure, maybe even far-fetched… but we are looking for proof in the story when the evidence is in the storyteller. Ash traveled all this way asking for your help when there are apparently no others to assist her. We know Night Furies are exceptionally rare and exceptionally prized by dragon hunters. And the fact that little is known about Mystholm does more to confirm their secrecy than discount it.”

Cloudjumper paused for a moment before continuing. “As for their inner conflict, why should Night Furies be any different than other dragons — or humans, for that matter? Pride, greed, and anger infect all who think and feel. And if they continue to fight each other while still reeling from a terrible tragedy—one with great loss of life—then they compound their own danger.”

He gave Toothless a long look. “The question isn’t whether or not her story is completely true. Rather, do you think this journey will provide you with what you seek? If the magic or the dragon hunter army turns out to be overstated, but the Night Furies are there, you will still greatly benefit from the journey as someone who—up until last night—believed you were one of the last of your kind. And I think you’ve already made up your mind.”

The Night Fury looked down; he had, indeed. “I’ve already decided to go. But I couldn’t leave without explaining where I’m going. And I need to ask you all for a favor.”

“You could just command it, you know,” Hookfang stated.

“You know I hate doing that!” Toothless exclaimed. “You all are my closest friends, and I know I haven’t been in the best of moods lately. I didn’t ask for all the responsibility of being Alpha, but the nest and the village mean everything to me, as they do to you! I’m counting on all of you to keep the peace for however long I’m gone. I’m putting Cloudjumper officially in charge, but he can’t do it by himself. Please.”

“Of course!” Meatlug chirped.

“Count me in,” the twins added.

“Just as long as you come back in one piece,” Hookfang grumbled.

Stormfly nodded in agreement, although her eyes still betrayed a hint of concern. “What are you going to do about Hiccup?”

“I’m figuring that out.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: A New Journey

A heavy thumping sound shook Hiccup out of his slumber. The house was dark, likely only a few hours having passed since he had gone to bed. Lighting a candle, he shook his head to regain his bearings. Astrid was at her parents’ house; staying at the groom’s house before the wedding was bad luck, the elders said. He could faintly hear the sound of his mother snoring upstairs, along with a dull reptilian hum from what could only be Cloudjumper. Years of living together in the wild could not be so easily changed by the cramped rooms of a human home, it would seem. Another thump quickly snapped the Viking out of his thoughts; it came from the back door that led to the woods. Quickly dressing himself in furs, Hiccup opened the door, only to be greeted by a sloppy lick of affection from his dragon.

 “Eugh, you know that doesn’t wash out!” he whispered furiously as Toothless gave him a gummy grin. He couldn’t help but laugh; he hadn’t seen his best friend all day.

It seemed they had somewhere to go, for Toothless gently bit Hiccup’s sleeve and dragged him out the door and into the night. Having long since given up on questioning his dragon’s thoughts, and not wanting to pass up an opportunity to take flight, he effortlessly hopped into the saddle. His prosthetic clamped into place, and they took off into the cloud-covered sky, effortlessly navigating their way across the dark canopy above the slumbering village. It was only a few minutes before the duo began their descent into the forest, the hidden cove where they first became friends coming into Hiccup’s view. 

Toothless landed softly, Hiccup sliding off his back. “Okay, bud, I appreciate the flight, but I don’t think you’d take me all the way out here for old times’ sake. What’s going on?” he asked, affectionately scratching his dragon beneath the chin. 

Toothless hummed with satisfaction before raising his head, warbling in the direction of the rocks behind Hiccup. Turning to see what had captured Toothless’s attention, the young Viking froze. A dark shadow had emerged from the rocks, two bright blue points of light breaking through the darkness in his direction. The dragon whistled back to Toothless, who nudged Hiccup—still dumbstruck—gently forward. The chief of Berk could hardly believe his eyes as he found himself standing before a Night Fury, the spitting image of Toothless apart from the deep sapphire eyes that examined him cautiously.  

“By the gods…” Hiccup whispered, before composing himself with a breath. Taking a small step forward, he outstretched his hand, kneeling on one knee as a gesture of harmlessness in front of the coal-black drake. The Night Fury leaned back in surprise, but after receiving a nod of approval from the Alpha, gently set the tip of its nose against his palm.

A hum of acceptance escaped the dragon as Hiccup gently stood up. “This is amazing! You’re beautiful,” he exclaimed as he gently stroked the dragon’s head. “You both look almost the same. I guess you’re a little smaller…” His thoughts trailed off as the Night Fury raised its head; its eyes were more almond-shaped than Toothless’s. Putting two and two together, Hiccup asked, “A female?” This received a happy nod from the dragon. 

“Do you have a name? I’m pretty good at guessing.”

The young female scooped something toward Hiccup’s direction with her tail: a pile of ashes on the ground, possibly from her bed the night before. “Ash?” he guessed, earning another happy nod from the newcomer.

Hiccup’s thoughts were interrupted as a sharp cracking sound echoed behind him. Turning away from Ash, he found Toothless with a large branch in his mouth, beginning to trace large lines in the dirt. Ah, here we go… Hiccup thought. This wasn’t the first time Toothless had attempted to convey something by drawing pictures, even if his art skills left much to be desired. After a few minutes, the ground was covered with shapes, and Hiccup racked his brain attempting to translate his dragon’s graffiti. 

“Okay, bud, so I’m guessing that this is Berk…” the young chief started, walking over to the picture closest to where Toothless had begun: a large circular blob in the dirt, with what seemed to be an attempt at a horned Viking helmet in the center. The dragon warbled in agreement. Next to the “island” was a circle with four shaky triangles pointing in four different directions, not unlike the simple compasses that Hiccup had drawn on his own maps. He knelt next to a very long arrow that had been drawn from the island blob, with two shapes next to it: what appeared to be faces with pointy ears. The two Night Furies, maybe? The arrow bent slightly to the right toward another large blob, with another face shape drawn in the center. 

“Okay, so if these are the two of you, then you want to fly north?” 

A growl. 

“Nope, okay. South then, and it bends a little towards this island, where there are other Night Furies, I’m guessing…south by southeast. So you just wanted to tell me that you’re going back with Ash, but you wanted me to know which way you went.”

The two dragons, who had stood next to each other while the human observed the drawing, both nodded in unison. Hiccup felt a small burst of joy at his successful translation, but it was quickly replaced by a feeling of worry. The arrow was very long, probably to symbolize the length of travel time. And Toothless knew Hiccup didn’t have the time to go. Oh, how he wanted to, but with the duties of chief and the approaching wedding, this was a journey he would have to pass on for now. 

“I guess I’m not coming this time, huh?” Hiccup lamented as he reached to rub Toothless’s forehead. The dragon cooed quietly, gently driving his head into his rider’s arms. 

As he held his best friend, Hiccup reached out one hand to affectionately pat Ash on the neck. “If there are other Night Furies, I don’t think they’d appreciate you bringing me along, would they?” 

The she-dragon nuzzled the human gently, causing him to laugh. “Just promise to come back, you hear me?”

Toothless gave him a characteristic gummy smile before proceeding to jump on his human with another sloppy dragon kiss, much to Hiccup’s dismay. After unsuccessfully attempting to wipe himself clean, Hiccup gently walked around his dragon, undoing the saddle and harness pieces that Toothless wore. He wouldn’t need these where he was going. The dragon didn’t protest, instead swinging his tail around to his rider’s feet. Taking a moment to tighten the straps and loose screws on the prosthetic fin, he stood to face the pair of Night Furies again.

 “Alright, bud, you’re all set! Be safe, don’t damage your tail, and come back as soon as you can.”

One last nuzzle from his best friend, and the two dragons vanished into the clouds with the faintest whisper. Gathering up the saddle, Hiccup said a quick prayer to Thor before setting off for his village. Gods, he hoped his dragon didn’t get into too much trouble. Astrid wasn’t going to believe this…

A Few Days Later…

“Would you mind telling me again?”

“Okay, okay, but you better remember this time…”

The seas roiled beneath them as the two Night Furies streaked across the sky, with the evening sun just beginning to peek over the infinite canopy of blue. Ash had spent the better part of the day lecturing Toothless on Mystholm, the different islands, and the other Night Furies that lived there. The young Alpha had many questions concerning things that dragons should be able to tell about themselves, but that Toothless could not recall from his blurry childhood memories: especially how long Night Furies could live, which apparently could go well past two centuries. Dragons being long-lived was not abnormal—it was quite common for dragonkind to live many years longer than humans—but Toothless had realized that this was the first time he found himself in the company of a dragon who could actually confirm even the most basic questions concerning their race. It was a comforting feeling, and it passed the time.

And if he was going to be accepted, he needed to fit in as much as possible. Toothless scanned the sea below him as Ash started again about the politics of the colonies. Aylan was not ruled by a singular dragon but by a group of elder Night Furies, of whom Moonlight was the most respected. She was a calm and soft-spoken dragon of advanced age—more than 250 years old—but, according to Ash, was the wisest Night Fury alive. The Night Furies of Aylan were generally good-natured except when dealing with attackers from Seregon, and preferred to immerse themselves with the care of the island and each other. Aylan also apparently contained the largest number of hatchlings, a combination of their peaceful nature and the influence of the dragonstone that countered Mystholm’s harsh environment.  Ash’s concern for the well-being of her island was becoming more clear to Toothless; located on the western edge of the archipelago, Aylan would be first in line if a dragon hunter fleet sailed in, and most of the Night Furies there were not fighters.

The island of Seregon—which Ash spoke of with a heavily disdainful tone—was a blasted ruin of sharp rocks and cliffs, sitting high above sea level. Food was virtually nonexistent, forcing the inhabitants to scavenge from adjacent islands or, worse, fight the dangerous predators in the water for fish. The Alpha was beginning to see why these Night Furies were such a prideful bunch; even humans would think twice before living on this island for hundreds of years. But the dragons of Seregon, while small in number, were fierce warriors who valued strength above all. They also were led by an elder, a centuries-old dragon named Angalon, but while the elders of Aylan were physically in decline, the leader of Seregon only seemed to strengthen with age. He ruled with absolute authority, was intolerant of outsiders, and abhorred any dragon that could not stand and take what they desired. His son, Talon, however, had a kinder heart than his father, despite being an equally fierce warrior.

The Watchers were still a mystery to Toothless, but at least the nomadic colony was supposed to be in Mystholm when they got there; according to Ash, they spent winters holed up on the central island, a volcanic mountain that the Night Furies had christened Nightmare’s Eyrie. They generally did not attack trespassers, but neither did they want to interact with them, vanishing into the strange vegetation that had grown as a result of the volcanic ash.  Ash still wasn’t sure how to convince them to join them, but at least they would be reachable and not off attacking any more islands for the time being.

“Ash, there’s still something I don’t get,” Toothless spoke up, Ash stopping to look at him as they continued their flight. “If these ‘Watchers’ are so secret, then how did you all find out they attacked a city? Surely they wouldn’t just go telling everyone.”

Ash looked away from him. When she spoke again, her voice was shaky. “Not all of the Watchers are completely secretive; if you join young, sometimes you get to go visit your family during the winter, if you have any left…My friend Amber joined up. Her brother had joined before her, and she was so excited; she wanted to see the world and make a difference, I guess. But Moonlight told me that Watchers are sworn to never discuss where they went or what they did with anyone who isn’t another Watcher.”

“When they returned for the winter, she came home to see her mom, and apparently she told her. The next day, she was gone, and I haven’t seen her since.”

Toothless immediately felt disheartened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I hope she’s okay.”

Ash sighed, beating her wings furiously to keep up her speed. “It’s okay; it was a fair question…But I don’t know! She just up and vanished. I hope she just went back to the Watchers, but if there’s a punishment for that rule, we’d have no idea if they did something to her!” 

As a small island began to emerge on the horizon, Ash continued, “See? That’s the whole problem. No one wants to talk to each other, to unite, even though there are too few of us left. Everyone wants to put their own interests first, except now we might have an actual threat on the horizon, but no one wants to admit that we’re vulnerable!”

“How did it come to this? Moonlight would tell me stories of how great things used to be, until the Cataclysm. But I thought with something so violent, we would have banded together instead of tearing apart.”

“Am I going to hear the full story about this ‘Cataclysm’ thing?” Toothless asked, earning a sober laugh from Ash. 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s important. I promise when we get to Aylan, I’ll ask Moonlight to tell you some of our old stories. She knows them much better than I do. But we should probably rest; this island coming up looks good.”

It took a few more minutes for the distant speck to emerge as a small, rocky island, not a sign of life across its barren surface. After acquiring some fish, they stayed up for another hour or two, chatting aimlessly.  Ash was very curious how a Night Fury ended up the best friend of a Viking chief, and Toothless found himself enjoying telling the tale. She sat there completely absorbed, eyes wide as he recounted his story of meeting Hiccup, him being shot down, their first flight…He couldn’t help but laugh at her expressions when he brought up the great sea dragons like the Red Death and the Bewilderbeast; it reminded him of a hatchling getting scared by a story her parents were telling, and it crossed Toothless’s mind that the young dragons of Aylan likely held the stories of their elders very near and dear.

Night quickly came, and Ash was soon sound asleep, the fatigue from her months of exploration—now coupled with the return trip home—beginning to take its toll. But Toothless found that he could not fall asleep so easily as visions of Berk, Hiccup, and all the things Ash had described to him that day now flooded his thoughts. 

On one hand, he had what he wanted: a new adventure, a return to living in the wild, and a new land to discover. And the closer they got to Mystholm, the greater the anxiety and anticipation of meeting other Night Furies grew. What would they be like? he thought. How would they react to him, an orphaned Night Fury living among humans? The young Alpha felt confident in his strength and character but couldn’t shake the deepening feeling that he was about to enter something far outside his experience. Truth be told, he missed Hiccup already, feeling guilty that he had not attempted to convince his human friends to come along. But he couldn’t interrupt his best friend’s wedding, not after everything that had transpired. Hiccup needed to marry Astrid, and Toothless needed to connect with his own kind.

The sound of ragged breathing snapped Toothless out of his daydream, and he finally pinpointed the sound of Ash shivering beside him. He hadn’t even noticed the temperature dropping, or the chill breeze that had begun to pick up, and the smaller she-dragon was shaking from the cold. Instinctively, the larger Night Fury stretched out one of his wings to cover his new friend.  Ash did not wake but shifted in her sleep, rolling over and curling up into Toothless’s chest. 

He paused, an unfamiliar sensation of warmth spreading from his chest throughout his entire body. He could feel her heartbeat, slow and methodical. He suddenly felt extremely nervous, fearing to wake her but realizing that he was in a strangely precarious, yet comforting, situation. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but even in the week they had known each other, he realized that he was starting to care deeply about Ash. Toothless realized he hadn’t felt attached to another dragon before, but couldn’t decide if this strange feeling was natural affection or just a result of the lack of Night Furies in his life. In any case, he had come to help her protect their people; there wasn’t time for such things. And he was just keeping her warm, nothing more. Right?

Toothless quashed the questions from his brain and eventually fell asleep, the rhythm of Ash’s heartbeat still gently pounding against his chest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Mystholm

The seas were calm, the waves gently crashing against the hull as a large ship cut through the water. More ships soon followed, a great fleet of dragon hunter vessels, identifiable by their double hulls and various weaponry and equipment. Many of the armored ships sported various coats of arms on their sails, typical dragon hunter symbols: swords, speared dragons, some even bearing the insignia of the recently defeated Drago Bludvist. The ships from Drago’s fleet had scattered after their leader vanished into the sea in front of the Isle of Berk, the captains leaderless and squabbling amongst themselves. 

But in leaving the Barbaric Archipelago they soon found a new master, one that explained their current presence in a fleet 1,000 ships strong; instead of Drago, these captains now followed the gold promised to them by the great city of Velesheim. This trading center was far to the southwest of Berk, outside the borders of the Barbaric Archipelago, but this powerful city was the benefactor of many trading ships from the south and west. Their wealth came from the abundant transfer of fine furs, gold, weapons, but most importantly slaves. Not only human slaves, but many dragon hunters who tried their luck in the islands to the north would find an eager buyer for their prizes in Velesheim.

At least until several months ago, where in the midst of the autumn trade increases before winter, the great city was attacked in the night. Large groups of dragons were virtually unheard of down south, attacks by dragons even less so, and yet in the darkness of evening the city had suddenly lit up in bursts of blue and white flame. The slavers district of the city was virtually destroyed, every cage opened, every ship damaged; strangely enough, no slave—human or dragon—was harmed. The great armories of Velesheim also took significant damage, a strangely precise target for a dragon attack. Many of the guards and soldiers that attempted to protect their city recalled the strange experience of being attacked by dragons unlike anything they had ever seen, or could barely see: fast, agile creatures who could barely be noticed in the darkness, whose singular shots of flame could burst a hole through barriers more accurately than the most efficient human weapon. The city was aflame and in shambles, captured dragons taking to the skies and slaves using the chaos to steal ships and sail away.

And yet for all the wanton destruction, whatever motivations or reasonings that guided the unknown assailants had left them to ignore one small detail, one tiny mistake that gave the people of Velesheim a chance at revenge. The dark dragons blotted out the stars, and with an island city surrounded by no other land masses, the dragons—having united into a large black abyss that omitted the starlight—could be tracked from the highest tower, heading due east after setting the city aflame. And although much of the eastern sea was empty and vast, a few spots of land remained that could house dragons. And so the lords of Velesheim, who possessed gold—and therefore men—in abundance, called out to any dragon hunter roaming the seas to join in one grand fleet, to embark on a mission of both exploration and revenge. They were to hunt down this mysterious nest of dragons, whatever race they may be, and take any heads or islands they could find for Velesheim.

While many of the captains who pledged their ships did so for the gold, their hatred of dragons, or the chance at new land, one man did so for duty alone. Ragnar Ivarson, one of Velesheim's most established lords, had no desire to leave his city when the effects of the attack were still so fresh. But having commanded the city's defenses for many years, along with many successful voyages previously as a dragon hunter, he had come to be well respected for both his strength and strategy. So when the other lords of the city unanimously demanded that he take charge of the grand fleet, he did so without protest. His own wife and daughter had suffered injuries in the attack, and although he imagined this expedition to be a huge waste of needed resources, he would do so for their sake.

The middle-aged Viking stood at the helm of his new flagship, Endeavour, as it cut its way through the frigid seas. Thankfully, command of this vessel served as some restitution; the largest dragon hunter ship yet, Endeavour boasted enough weaponry and dragon-catching equipment that the flagship would hold its own far above the older and more flimsy vessels. Moreover, the entire vessel was covered in a thin layer of dragon-proof steel. Laborers had been working on it for months to make the ship buoyant, and they had finally found a metal composition to make the ship both impervious to fire and lightweight. A true marvel of engineering—one that could change dragon hunting and Viking dominion over the seas forever—as long as one possessed the uncounted numbers of gold chests needed to build just one. 

“Sir!” a lookout shouted from the middlemast, having climbed up there to keep watch. “We just crossed into the Barbaric Archipelago!”

Waving in acknowledgement, Lord Ragnar handed off the steering to a waiting sailor, then descended belowdecks to his private quarters. Few creature comforts were present in the room, apart from his bed, one large table, and an ornate carved chair. A bright red flag adorned the back wall, emblazoned with the symbol of Velesheim: a golden chalice decorated with the hammer of Thor, overflowing with red liquid. Wine or blood, it mattered little, as both flowed through Velesheim in equal abundance. What was present in the room on numerous shelves were large collections of books, scrolls and maps. The lord never travelled without as much knowledge as he could carry, for one never knew when it would be useful. 

Taking a seat, Ragnar’s eyes gazed over the set of materials he had left earlier. Covering most of the table was a large map of the known world, with Velesheim in the center; to the south and west were the world’s continents, where great nations of men dominated the land and dragons were little more than stories. To the north sat the Barbaric Archipelago, the territory of Vikings, so-called savage peoples, and all manner of draconic races. To the east was mostly open sea with the solitary exception of a large mass of clouds, which the cartographers used to denote the unknown and unexplored. Mystholm, the land of mystery.

Picking up a small model of a ship, Ragnar placed it at the southwesternmost border of the Barbaric Archipelago to signal their current location. Reaching across the table, he picked up a dusty old volume and began to rifle through its pages, The Book of Dragons etched into the cover. Every seasoned dragon hunter attempted to record their best practices and tips regarding the dragons they hunted, but this book had ended up in his library by way of a trading ship that frequently journeyed north, bartering with the Viking tribes. Ragnar had purchased this particular book because it seemed to contain the most pages about dragons, and seemed to be written relatively recently. Flipping to the desired page, the warlord began to read:

Night Fury; Strike Class, medium size dragon. Large black wings, slender build, four legs, tail with two fins. Abilities: unknown (concealment, nocturnal camouflage). Extremely dangerous, do not engage. Rarity: Extreme. Only one catalogued sighting to date. Location: Isle of Berk.

Ragnar set the open book on the table, stroking his greying beard as he studied the map. Even during his younger days hunting dragons, he had never put much stock into tales of Night Furies; they were typically written off as either folk tales or a once in a blue moon occurrence. In fact, stories about a supposed Night Fury living among the Vikings of Berk, which was becoming more known for domesticating dragons, were the only confirmed sightings of one… well, ever. However, the lord of Velesheim had scoured numerous texts relating to dragons and other mythical creatures. The Night Fury, for all its rarity, was the only dragon whose description came close to the cloud of night-concealed shadows that had attacked the city. 

And the fact that the mysterious creatures had fled east, where islands were few and far between, only complicated the matter. Unless the dragons changed course, they would not encounter sizable islands capable of housing a nest until Mystholm. Picking up a stack of paper, Ragnar pinned them to the cloud marking on the map with a small dagger from his belt. There wasn’t much information in those pages, a few sparse mentions of the mystic isles from various travelers whose ships had blown off course. No captain had dared to stay long, nor had a ship braved the waters of Mystholm in centuries; mentions of a volcano, islands wrapped in constant mist, sea serpents, and ghosts littered the crumbling paper. But unknown or not, it was the only place the dragons could fly to, and they would not have flown east unless they intended to nest somewhere.

Ragnar cursed, reaching for a bottle of hard spirits that sat at the table's edge and taking a long drink. None of this was much to go on, after all. There was no guarantee that dragons inhabited Mystholm, let alone that their midnight assailants had kept flying that way. But the other lords of Velesheim cared little for the cost of sending a giant fleet sailing around the open ocean on the onset of winter's approach. They cared for gold and glory, and had much of the former to spare. But an expedition to Mystholm couldn’t hurt that badly, and he supposed it wasn’t his money being wasted. The unknown islands could turn out to be very rich in both land and minerals—even if no dragons were present. And Lord Ragnar put no stock into tales of the undead, enchanted seas, or mystery dragons. If you could not see it, then why fear it?

A hard pounding on the door grabbed the old hunter’s attention. 

“Enter!” he shouted gruffly, taking another swig from the bottle in hand. 

In walked his first mate and second in command of the fleet, a young captain of Velesheim’s city watch by the name of Halfdan. Though a talented fighter and well-respected in the city, Halfdan had only come at his lord's request, the pale complexion of his face indicating that he was not an enjoyer of sea voyages. 

“What’s the matter, my friend? A bit seasick, are we?” Ragnar joked.

“What gave it away?”Halfdan responded, after leaning on the table to steady himself. “I wanted to speak to you in private. I have… concerns about our plan.”

Ragnar frowned, placing the bottle on the table. “Well, let's hear it! You think we should’ve just sailed straight for Mystholm, like the lords of the city demanded?”

“No, my lord,” said Halfdan. “I know hopping the southern islands of the Barbaric Archipelago is a wise strategy, even if it adds time to our journey. We must think about preserving our food and wood, and winter’s ice will be fast approaching. The islands will provide protection… except now the Endeavour's directed further north, and I want to know why.”

Lord Ragnar let out a low chuckle. “Despite your lack of sea-legs, my friend, you were always good at navigation. Tell me…” he pointed to the map, “... have you ever heard of the Isle of Berk?”

“Only vaguely. A Viking island, typical barbarians… except I’ve heard whispers from the dragon hunters that a nest of dragons dwells there.”

“Oh, they don’t just ‘dwell’ there.” the lord spoke. “I’ve heard that the people ride them, train them, and keep them as pets. I’ve also heard that their new chief, a young man by the name of Hiccup, is some kind of dragon whisperer. The Dragon Master, they call him.”

Halfdan crossed his arms. “Yes, I overheard some of the hunters from Drago’s fleet cursing his name. But I fail to see the point of this.”

“Because we’re going to Berk first, then to Mystholm.” Lord Ragnar confessed.

“You must be joking!” Halfdan exclaimed. “Whatever would possess you to do such a thing? That adds weeks to our journey, to say nothing of the trouble it would cause.”

“What trouble do you expect, old friend?”

“Come now, my lord, you are no fool! Many of our ships fly the symbols of dragon hunters, many others were captained by men who only recently served under Drago Bludvist. If we sail to Berk, even under a flag of peace, they will see us as a foe. That says nothing of the captains themselves. This fleet is vast, with only the promise of great riches to bind us to common cause. If they hear you are thinking of breaking bread with dragon riders, they will betray us as sure as the dawn.”

Halfdan walked around to stand by his lord’s side, staring intently at the pages of the Book of Dragons. “I know why you want to go; you want to see if this dragon master can tell you about Night Furies, or otherwise explain the dragons that attacked Velesheim. But the other lords assembled this fleet to go to Mystholm, they are paying the dragon hunters to hunt dragons in Mystholm. Some will not follow you simply to gain information, however useful.”

“But we have only scraps of proof that anything is even in Mystholm!” Ragnar huffed, waving at the map in frustration. “And every man must have the strength to fight when we eventually get there. I have no love for the mercenaries and hunters that sail with us only for coin. It is the soldiers of Velesheim that I am charged with, and they must remain alive and strong.”

The lord of the fleet stared long and hard at the map. “Halfdan, how many of our ships are captained by true dragon hunters, including the disbanders from Drago’s fleet? No Velesheim soldiers, no ambitious recruits, just year-round hunters that regularly trap in the Barbaric Archipelago.”

“I would say around 400, maybe more.” Halfdan admitted. 

Lord Ragnar rose to his feet. “Then these are my orders. We will divide the fleet in two, between Velesheim ships and the career hunters, who will choose a leader amongst themselves. The hunters will turn east and follow my original plan, hugging the southern islands until they reach Mystholm. Our larger half will continue to Berk under my command, to see if this ‘Dragon Master’ can inform us on the foe we face. Then we will head south for Mystholm.”

“The hunters who get there first will determine if there is any nest in the archipelago, and may hunt as they see fit. They are not likely to protest this plan, since Mystholm is the object of their pay after all. If there is nothing, then we will be able to head for home as soon as we rejoin them.” Ragnar looked his old friend in the eye. “And if they do find dragons, it will be them who die first, and we will know the strength of the enemy.”

Halfdan looked sober, then bowed low before his lord. “As you command, I will signal the fleet. But if I may; what if they do find a nest, and it is more powerful than we have the strength to fight? Will we still remain and attack?”

“I am not one to sacrifice men and ships needlessly. I will leave the glory and the hunting to the dragon-haters, for my days of hunting dragons for profit are far behind me. But rest assured, my friend.” Lord Ragnar strode to the far wall, where a glaive rested on two hooks. The weapon was large and weathered, with chips and other signs of age across its surface; but the black blade was untouched, the metal shining with light, craftsmanship that could cut chain and shatter armour without losing its edge.

Lord Ragnar unhooked his prized weapon from the wall, standing it up on its handle. He stood at a considerable height, yet the tip of the blade passed well above his head.

“We will avenge our city, as is our duty.”

Elsewhere…

“Look! I can see it!”

Toothless squinted, trying to pinpoint what Ash had noticed on the horizon. A faint smudge could be seen in the distance, and what looked to be the first island they had seen in almost a day. As they flew closer, the blur began to take shape into a towering mountain; Toothless realized that the smudge was not land, but a steady stream of smoke that billowed from the flat top of the peak. Nightmare’s Eyrie was unmistakable, rising unnaturally high above all the islands that surrounded it. Toothless could make out a few small islands that dotted the seas around it, as well as 4 larger ones that surrounded the Eyrie. So this is Mystholm, he thought. The large islands looked lush and green, including the base of the Eyrie; dark forests, the occasional open field, and…

“Are those what I think they are?”

“If you're talking about the giant mushrooms, yeah! Something in the ash makes them grow at the foot of the Eyrie.” Ash exclaimed happily, reveling in finally being home. “They pop up occasionally on other islands too. Just wait! When night falls they’ll glow in all kinds of colors, it’s incredible.” 

She gestured east, where Toothless could make out a large collection of barren cliffs that rose high above the water, yet only likely coming to half the height of the volcano. “There’s Seregon, we should steer clear of those skies for now. Let’s head to Aylan first! It’s only another hour, we just follow a circular path west around the Eyrie.”

Toothless laughed at the female’s suddenly energetic demeanor. “Fine. Race you to the next island!” 

The Night Fury put on a burst of speed, surging past the female as Ash gasped in surprise, then laughing as she tried to keep up. Toothless flew through the air like a dark bullet, reveling in the thrill of wind rushing over his scales. This place offered so many new discoveries, and he had to admit that despite the daunting purpose of their visit, he was now filled with excitement. Gliding across the surface of the water, he peered into the crystal-clear blue, seeing all manner of fish beneath the surface.

The aquatic life suddenly vanished, and the instant sound of breaking water triggered an instinctual drive within the Night Fury. Pulling up harshly, he did so just in time to avoid the hissing clamp of jaws beneath him, seeing several rows of blackened teeth. A long-headed, flat-nosed creature—with blank murky eyes and dark aqua scales—sank its head back into the water, having missed the large dragon overhead. 

“Are you ok?!” Ash yelled, catching up to Toothless, as another head lunged out the water; this time, Toothless could see a long serpentine body with two small fins attached to the head. Beating her wings hard, Ash pulled up while simultaneously firing a plasma burst into the serpent’s face. The shot caused no visible damage, but the beast gave up, slinking into the water.

“What the hell was that?” Toothless roared.

“Those are Ormr, sea serpents.” Ash explained. “They can’t see very well and are kind of slow. Don’t breathe fire either. But I’d be careful hovering over open water, at least in this part of Mystholm. One bite and you won’t move for hours, and you won’t last long if you fall into a group of them.”

“C’mon, we should keep going until we reach Aylan.” said Ash, as they flew higher above the water.

Toothless couldn’t help but ask; “How do you fish with those things in the water?”

“We fish in small groups. Like I said, they’re not too smart, and they don’t swim in too large of groups. You just have two or three Night Furies stun them with shots while others grab the fish. They’re immune to fire, but a well-placed shot on the snout usually does the trick.” Ash flew overhead, then twisted upside-down, hovering over Toothless’s head in perfect sync with him.

“Hey, before we get there, I just wanted to say…”

“Something on your mind?” Toothless asked, looking up.

Ash smiled down at him. “I just wanted to thank you again, I know I’m asking a lot from you. Maybe too much, but it's nice to have someone I can trust.”

“You don’t need to thank me, coming here is something I never even dreamed of until you showed up.” the Alpha replied.

“I know, it’s just… I don’t know how the others will react, they all thought it wasn’t worth asking for help, let alone trying to make peace between the Night Furies. But you were willing, and that means more than you know.”

Ash twisted back over, maneuvering herself to Toothless’s side as they flew through the air. “We’ll have to meet with the elders when we arrive, and you’ll probably get swamped with questions. But… maybe tonight we can find somewhere quiet and relax? I’m sure you have more adventures to tell me about.”

The young male was taken aback, a familiar warm feeling spreading through his chest.

“As you wish.”

He might’ve imagined it, but as they continued to soar through the air towards Aylan, Toothless could’ve sworn he felt the tips of their wings touch.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: The Colony

The sun was beginning to set, the sky crossed with streams of pink and crimson, as the pair of Night Furies approached their destination. Toothless's eyes widened in awe as Aylan came into view, taking in the sight before him. Ash smiled, noticing his astonishment. The young Alpha had seen many unique and intriguing islands, each with its own curiosities and wondrous natural beauties. The map that Hiccup had charted, as human and dragon crossed the skies of the Barbaric Archipelago in all directions, was filled with a multitude of wondrous islands. Even the curiosities of Mystholm's havens—which Toothless had only seen from a distance—beckoned further exploration. But the isle of Aylan was like nothing the young Night Fury had ever seen. 

A single mountain peak dotted the island's surface, but Toothless was entranced by the strong curve of rock that bent the mountain into a crescent. It stretched over the island, capturing the rays of the setting sun in a blanket of light that bathed the land beneath it in dimming shades of red. The sheer abundance of life radiating from Aylan was overwhelming; its forests seemed thicker, greener, more alive than any Toothless had known. Trees reached towards the sky with unfamiliar leaves, their branches laden with vibrant, unknown flowers. Large mushrooms—like the ones he had noticed on the Eyrie—were already beginning to glow in the fading light, resembling captured stars nestled among the lush undergrowth. As the pair landed on the shore, the beach sparkled with a thousand tiny lights. Toothless nosed at it cautiously, feeling the coarse sand mixed with what he assumed was volcanic ash. The ash of the Eyrie was littered with mineral residue, yet soft and smooth, glittering like scattered gems in the deepening sunset as stars began to faintly emerge. Everything on Aylan seemed... ethereal, unnatural. But incredible nonetheless.

“Hey, earth to the Alpha," Ash joked affectionately, snapping Toothless out of his trance. "I told you Aylan was beautiful. Gosh, I'm so glad to be back here…"

Toothless snorted. "Beautiful is an understatement. I've never seen anything like this. This is… amazing!"

The last rays of daylight slipped over the horizon, and Toothless was now fully embraced by the faint glow of Aylan's forests, the beach blooming in a subdued—but noticeable—array of reflected starlight. He stood and observed, wanting nothing more than to rest for a moment and take in the incredible view. Ash, letting him bask in the life of the island, turned toward the treeline. A high-pitched whistle escaped her throat as she cried out to the trees. 

For a moment, there was no reaction, no sound except the gentle brush of waves across the glittering beach. Then, slowly, additional dots of light began to emerge from the dark green canopy. Before Toothless knew it, winged shadows began to slink out of the trees. Several dozen Night Furies, of various shapes and sizes, cautiously approached the pair. Their eyes shone with an array of colors; Toothless noticed that the majority were forest-green like his own, a smaller number shining blue, with a few rare colors—amethyst, amber, and even a golden yellow—scattered throughout the group. Slowly, the dragons began to whisper to each other:

"It's Ash!"

"By the stars, she made it home!"

"Who is he? He can't be from Seregon, can he?"

"What's wrong with his tail?"

Some of the Night Furies ran forward to nuzzle Ash, while the rest eyed Toothless with suspicion. After a moment, one female—who looked to be an older Night Fury, with light green eyes—approached her.

"Ash, where have you been? We've been worried sick! You've been gone for months," the dragon exclaimed, nuzzling Ash affectionately. "And the elders were furious when you left! You've got a lot of explaining to do, starting with this one here." 

She made eye contact with Toothless. "Who are you, and where do you come from?"

"I come from an island called Berk, far to the north," Toothless answered. "My name is Toothless."

Snickers arose from several of the onlookers. The older female shot a glare in their direction to silence them, then turned back to the newcomers. "Don't mind those hatchlings. It's just that the name's uncommon; what you call yourself is your business. I'm called Zephyr. Nice to meet you."

Ash spoke up. "I'm really happy to see you, but you're right. We should probably talk to the elders; no use waiting."

"Wait just a minute!" One of the male Night Furies stepped forward, his head low as he regarded Toothless with a threatening eye. "You all can't be suggesting we just let him walk among us?! We know nothing about him, and I, for one, would like to know…" He pointed his tail at the Alpha's. "…why his tail is covered with metal."

Toothless stood his ground, bringing his tail to the front so the others could see. "I won't try to hide it; this is an artificial fin. It helps me fly. A friend made it for me… a human on my island." 

Silence fell as the other Night Furies' expressions changed from suspicion to contempt, with the exception of Zephyr.

"You fucking traitor."

The male bared his teeth, coming within an inch of Toothless's face. Toothless didn't flinch. 

"You call a human 'friend'? Yet you dare come here, where we are lucky enough to have none of them. Toothless, did your human give you that name like a pet?! Do you let it ride you and feed you like some house cat?!"

Toothless let out a low growl, drawing himself to his full height. Despite the modest size of Night Furies, he towered a good head above the other male. "Yes, I let him ride me. Especially into battle, where I've fought many times against other humans. He is a great chief who respects dragons, and I rule my nest as the Alpha. If you think I'm lying, I can show you just how much of a 'pet' I am…" Blue light began to trace down his spine as he charged his flame.

"That's enough!" Zephyr roared, inserting herself between the two. "You forget yourself. Do you think Ash would bring a stranger here if he were a threat, she who is descended from an elder? He has traveled far, and yet no harm has come to her." The male glared for a moment, but her stance was unyielding. Growling, he stormed off, vanishing back into the trees. 

"As for you…" she turned back to Toothless. "This is a place of peace, and I trust Ash to have explained that to you. I think you came for good reasons, and I look forward to getting to know you better. But make no mistake, this isn't your nest. You may be an Alpha, but try commanding anyone around here, and you will be at dire risk. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Toothless replied, powering down his plasma. "I didn't want to cause any trouble."

Zephyr laughed. "You're a newcomer; that is trouble enough. But Ash brought you, so many here will be willing to accept you. Come, we should let the elders know you've arrived." She turned, ready to guide the pair into the forest, as the surrounding Night Furies began to depart, some shooting half-hearted smiles at Toothless and Ash.

Toothless felt a nudge against his wings and looked over to see Ash beaming at him with a draconic grin. "Don't mind him; some of the males are pretty suspicious. They're used to the only visitors being from Seregon and burning stuff."

As they walked, Toothless replied sardonically, "Maybe he's just jealous you didn't ask him for help."

Ash giggled as the two of them followed Zephyr into the trees. The light of the woods was dim, yet the glow of the luminescent flora illuminated the undergrowth in deep hues of blue and green. As they traveled, Toothless took in the sights around him; he could make out the shapes of other Night Furies hanging bat-like from the trees in deep slumber. He could also hear and see others traversing the forest, pinpoints of light leaping silently upward as pairs of glowing eyes took to the skies in pursuit of food or leisure. Some stared suspiciously as the trio passed through the vegetation, a few Night Furies stopping to greet them; they generally nuzzled Ash or called out greetings, while regarding Toothless with pointed stares or growls of warning. However, a few younger Night Furies greeted him warmly, even bumping him with their snouts in welcome; the other dragons smelled of sweet flowers and other plants, with the faintest trace of metallic sulfur from the air. The Alpha was thankful that the smell of humans had virtually faded after weeks of air travel, as the tail was a calling card enough. Sorry, Hiccup.

"Ash?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think these elders are going to say?"

Ash's ears flattened in embarrassment. "Well, they'll probably read me the riot act… but I doubt they'll actually demand anything from us. Like I said, these are peaceful dragons… which is why I needed help convincing them of a possible dragon hunter attack. But Moonlight will at least come to my defense, I hope."

"I heard Zephyr mention you were descended from an elder."

"Moonlight is technically my great-great-grandmother, a fact that the other elders love to remind me of. Hey, Toothless?"

"Yeah?"

Ash turned to look at him as they walked. "The grotto we're going to, where the elders meet… the stone is there. Try not to look directly at it, and don't try to touch it. It's forbidden."

Toothless nodded. He had completely forgotten about the dragonstone, undoubtedly the boon behind this island's ethereal life. What would an enchanted stone even look like, he wondered, and what did it do? 

The light of the forest brightened, and Toothless realized, as he looked upward, that the stars were now covered. They had passed under the crescent overhang of the mountain, journeying toward its base as they descended further into the heart of Aylan. He could faintly make out numerous cracks and crevices in the mountain's flatter surface, likely hiding numerous caves. Zephyr turned to take a winding path, one that began to rise above the trees. Despite the exchange of treeline for jagged rocks, small trees continued to jut out from the rock. Two large, ancient oaks marked the edge of the path, and Zephyr paused.

"We're here. I'll announce you both."

They entered the grotto. Toothless marveled at the stones that rose from the floor and down from the overhang at the mountain's root. The grotto walls were covered with vines and more luminescent plants, and at the center was a great tree unlike any other. It towered to the ceiling, its trunk thick and dark; the leaves were green, yet veins of silver were scattered across their surface, shining with a pale light. A large pond surrounded the base of the tree, bordered by a wall of moss-covered stones. Five Night Furies were lounging around the great oak, a few of them looking up at the visitors. Toothless took in their ragged wings, the coal-black of their scales graying and patchy, as if the dragons themselves were as twisted and ancient as the tree they guarded. But their dimly glowing orbs betrayed an ancient stare, the kind that had seen a multitude of years. These dragons are probably more than ten times my age, Toothless surmised.

Zephyr growled, deep but clear. "Dear elders, Ash has returned to us. And she brings a newcomer from the far north, one of our kind. Toothless, an Alpha from the island of Berk."

One of the elder females, with amethyst eyes, stared at Ash coldly. "Thank you, Zephyr, you may go. We have much to discuss," she said icily. 

The younger female bowed, gave Toothless and Ash an encouraging nod, and vanished into the night.

"Step closer, you too," the elder commanded, frustration in her voice. As they approached, the violet-eyed dragon addressed Ash as one would a delinquent child. "And who are you, to ask for our counsel only to ignore us? You leave for months with no reason other than to combat a threat that has no proof of existence?! Many thought you dead! Explain yourself!"

Ash looked down, visibly intimidated. "Well… I didn't…"

"Dawn, do not be so quick to berate the poor girl." Another elder, a male with shaky legs and amber eyes, chuckled softly. "Is she not of mature age? You take her impetuousness too personally, old friend. Let her at least reunite with Moonlight before you attempt to pin her wings." 

The emaciated Night Fury shuffled over to another slumbering elder, one who sat closest to the tree's base. Nudging softly to wake the dragon, he whispered, "Ancient one, Ash has returned."

The old female's eyes opened, revealing murky sapphire eyes that glowed brightly despite her advanced age. She rose, tattered wings draping her body as she sniffed the air. Toothless stared; Moonlight was blind, the pupils of her eyes warped and cloudy, and her wings all but decayed to the bone. And yet, her eyes shone with life as she gingerly stepped from the tree's roots. Her eyes stared blankly forward, yet she walked purposefully to Ash and Toothless, her ears flickering.

"It's about time you returned. And you made a new friend, I see." Moonlight lowered her head, pressing it against Ash's with warmth. "I have missed you, my dear."

Ash held her embrace for a moment, her voice cracking. "And I you. Forgive me; I left so suddenly."

"Flying off into the wilderness as an adult Night Fury doesn't require forgiveness, child." Releasing Ash, Moonlight retook her place on the tree roots. "But an explanation, however, would be appreciated. You…" she turned toward Toothless. "…are not from Mystholm. Why have you come, young one?"

Toothless lowered his head in greeting. "I am not, ancient one. Ash asked me to return with her to help unite Night Furies against potential danger."

A laugh escaped Dawn, who lingered against the pond's edge. "’Unite,’ he says. Clearly, Ash has explained nothing to him. There will be no unity, not until Seregon sinks into the sea or the Watchers grow hearts that extend beyond themselves. Danger, indeed…"

"Ash, do not feel guilty for taking an adventure of your own accord. I imagine Toothless considered hearing of us a welcome gift, as I've never heard of Night Furies living so far north…" the elder male said, nodding to Toothless in acknowledgment. 

"…but we've told you before, dear. This 'dragon hunter army' is an idea at best; there is no physical proof."

Moonlight interjected, "And yet the attack did happen. It had to be significant, at least for a Watcher to supposedly break her silence. The absence of a fleet doesn't prove that one can't be—or isn't being—mustered."

"Oh, please!" Dawn exclaimed. "Humans haven't attempted to enter these waters since before the time of Nightshade. They think it's haunted, and we're far away from this supposed city. Even if they did come, we are Night Furies; we simply vanish and wait until the hunters are gone, or perhaps they and the savages on Seregon will kill each other and solve two problems at once."

Nightshade? What does that mean? Toothless thought, resolving to ask Ash about it later, but he was pulled from his distraction when Ash erupted next to him. 

"That's cruel!" Ash shouted. For a moment, further words died in her mouth, but then—to Toothless's pride, he found–she stood her ground. "They are Night Furies, too, and we need them to survive! Hatchlings grow fewer every year, and eventually, they will be forced to join us. There aren't enough of us left to afford staying split anymore!"

The male elder sighed. "No one disputes our needs, child. But Seregon Night Furies would sooner take this island by force than join us to fight humans—to say nothing of the Watchers. Those self-proclaimed vigilantes' sense of kinship is completely skewed."

"That doesn't mean the attempt can't be made." Moonlight's blank eyes turned to Toothless, who found himself looking away uncomfortably. "They are adults; they know the risks, as well as the unlikelihood. Assuming, Toothless, that you are willing to help Ash speak with the other colonies. They may not so quickly despise a newcomer, after all."

"You're too naive, Moonlight." Dawn approached Toothless, scrutinizing his tail fin. "This Night Fury may seem peaceful, but has no one else questioned whether he has loyalties to others? I am no fool; that is a human contraption, to help you fly, no doubt." 

She glared. "Now, I admit I've never seen such a thing, much less heard about a human who built a tail for a dragon instead of killing it. But is he loyal to Ash, or his human friends?" She gestured to the great tree with one wing. "Will he take our stone, hoping to heal his injury? Or perhaps give it to the humans?"

The Alpha couldn't help but turn his head to examine where the elder Night Fury was pointing. Something was nestled directly into the front of the tree, toward the base where the roots curled and delved into the ground. What Toothless had previously written off as a knot in the wood was a small, egg-shaped gemstone. 

As he stared, the gem's surface began to emit an emerald glow, like warm coals being heated by a bellow. It looked as though the inside of the dragon stone was swelling with ethereal clouds, growing brighter and deeper with each pulsing beat. It was like gazing into a bottomless emerald sea, waves of magic rolling into themselves and vanishing, yet endlessly renewing. The Night Fury was entranced, staring as though the gem was the gateway to an infinite void. And yet…

Something shifted in the abyss of color, and Toothless was gripped by a terrifying, indescribable sensation. A shudder of fear erupted through his body, breaking his gaze as he gasped, realizing he had been holding his breath. Something within the stone had stared back at him—or more accurately, through him. He felt watched by an incomprehensible being that had seen… something… within him. The stone was alive, yet not. Gasping for air, he tried to catch his breath. Something covered his back and wings tightly, and he looked over. Ash had draped a wing over him, terror in her eyes.

"Breathe deeply, child." Moonlight's soft, soothing voice cut through the quiet. Toothless took a few deep breaths, feeling the strange sensation recede. He was himself again, and when he dared to glance at the tree, the dragon stone was dark, as if it had never been lit.

"The stone cannot be 'taken,' Dawn," Moonlight said calmly. "And those who attempt to gaze into it often find things they didn't wish to see. I doubt our new guest has any desire for it now, if he ever did." 

She regarded them kindly, but sternly. "Ash, Toothless, the elders have spoken at length about the futility of uniting the Night Fury colonies. Many have tried before, all without success, but difficulty does not mean impossibility. A dragon hunter invasion, while possible, is just as unlikely. But you are both of age and reason; if you wish to pursue this, that is your affair. But you must do so yourselves, persuade dragons of able body yourselves, and bear any injury yourselves. Now go and rest; you both require sleep after such a long journey."

They left, Toothless following Ash into the sky without a word. His body felt normal, but his thoughts drifted; he could barely focus, following Ash on instinct. When they reached their destination—a small, unoccupied cave, one of many dotting the inner wall of the crescent mountain—Ash led him in, then flew off without a word. Toothless barely noticed, much less thought of a retort; his mind was swimming, yet his body felt normal. He shook his head but the fogginess remained. He barely registered Ash's return or the slap of fish against the stone floor.

"Hey, look at me." Ash's voice cut through the fog. Toothless looked over, green meeting blue. "How do you feel?" she asked with worry.

"Like I was hit in the head really hard by a ghost," Toothless groaned, sinking to the cave floor. Closing his eyes brought some relief. He felt Ash's warmth as she lay down next to him. She swatted him playfully with her tail. "Told you not to look at it."

"What did you see?"

Toothless considered, eyes still shut. "I… I'm not sure. I thought I was looking into a normal gem, then an endless sea of emerald waves, then it was like looking into nothing. Except there was something! Both at the same time, yet neither. It felt like something was staring into me."

Ash sighed. "You got lucky, then. When I was a kid, some hatchlings and I snuck over because someone dared another to see how long he could look at it… he had nightmares for weeks. A few go mad, others just cower in fear. Don't worry; the feeling will pass."

"Have you ever looked?"

"No, Moonlight told me never to unless I was in 'unimaginable need' of magic. I don't ever want to reach that point." Ash looked solemn for a moment, then asked, "Hungry?"

"No, thanks," Toothless admitted, rolling onto his side. "I'm exhausted, which is a shame, as I'd love to look around. Everything here is beautiful."

Ash eyed Toothless caringly. "You're right; that can wait until morning."

He lay there, eyes shut, hoping sleep would cure his raging headache. Suddenly, he jumped as warm scales brushed against his. Cracking open one eye, he saw Ash curling into his chest, her smaller wings wrapped around herself. She opened her eyes, gazing up at him. 

"Everything?" she asked playfully, nuzzling his neck.

This time, Toothless didn't hesitate. The Night Fury leaned in, one large wing wrapping protectively around the smaller female as they nestled together for the night.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Dragonstones

Toothless raced through the trees, desperately trying to make it to the edge of the forest. The air was thick with ash, the screams and roaring of dragons echoing throughout the chaos that surrounded him. Fires raged across the surface of Aylan as dragon hunters poured through the undergrowth in droves, wielding spears and arrows dipped in dragonroot. Firing a burst of plasma at a group of oncoming humans, the Night Fury continued to dodge through the burning branches, until he finally arrived at the edge of a cliff. Human ships, beyond the count of any he had seen before, filled the vast ocean like toy boats, launching fiery projectiles at the island. Thousands of dragon hunters streamed ashore, like ants running uphill to take over a colony.

As battle swelled around him, there arose from behind Toothless an unholy wail; a strange bellow of sound that cut through all others, not unlike the grinding of metal, and yet underlaid by the blood-chilling screams of countless species. He turned to see a bright green glow shining from the root of Aylan’s crescent mountain. The light flickered for a moment, and then vanished; for a moment, all was silent. Then from the mountain suddenly burst forth a cloud of fire, an inferno of emerald flame that bloomed outwards across the surface of Aylan. Toothless tried to will his body to move, and yet his limbs were paralyzed with dread. The cloud grew, the island quickly vanishing into green as the flames consumed man, dragon, and tree alike. Toothless could do nothing but watch as the endless wall of fire approached, his scales beginning to melt from an unnatural heat…

The Night Fury’s eyes snapped open. 

A bright ray of sunlight was streaming into the cave, a few stray rays warming his body as he lay. Toothless looked around panicking for a moment before registering a warm breath on his chest. Ash was still sound asleep, firmly pressed against him. Trying not to wake her, he leaned his head back down, his mind trying to comprehend what he had just seen. Thankfully, he realized his head felt fine; he could once again think clearly, as though the previous night’s experience with the dragonstone had never occurred. And yet it did, for what else could be responsible for such a dream. Can a dragonstone really destroy an entire island?  

Perhaps it was just Toothless’s imagination, and yet the presence of the dragon hunters in his dream all but confirmed that he was at least here for the right reasons. He hoped that Moonlight could explain some of it to him, and yet… There was a part of the dragon that wanted to keep the dream to himself, as though it was an omen meant for him and him alone.

“Sleep well?” A groggy voice cood below his chin. Toothless looked down, seeing Ash smiling, though her eyes remained shut.

“For the most part. I had… some strange dreams.”

“Don’t be surprised, I’m sure they’ll pass eventually.” Ash yawned, then nuzzled back against him. “What time of day is it?”

Toothless looked up, squinting at the sun streaming through the mouth of the cave. “I’d say about mid-morning.”

“Good.” said Ash. “Then we don’t have to get up.”

Toothless snickered. “Well what if I want to?”

“No.”

They lay there for a little longer, simply resting in each other’s warm presence, at least until the rustling of wings signaled an approaching dragon. “Ash?” Zephyr’s voice cut through the silence.

“Are you two in here—oh. Sorry, did I wake you?” Toothless got up, uncurling his body from Ash, as the older Night Fury looked at the pair of them with an almost amused air.

“No, we were just resting.” Toothless spoke, as Ash rose to her feet, stretching catlike.

Zephyr gave Ash a strange look, before speaking again. “Ash, you don’t have to worry about getting up. Moonlight wants to speak to our newcomer in private.”

“Ha!” Ash exclaimed before laying back down, poking Toothless with her tail. “Sucker.”

“Shut up.”

Zephyr snickered at the two of them before turning to Toothless. “C’mon, you should eat and then head to the grotto. She’s waiting for you.”

After a short time, a now-full Toothless found himself passing through the two oak trees into the elder’s grotto. The luminescent plants were now dim, yet the sun illuminated the rich greens and flowery colors of Aylan’s life. The silver traces on the leaves of the great tree gleamed in the rays, and the pond shimmered with their reflection. To his surprise, Moonlight was alone, blank eyes gazing calmly into the water. Toothless stole a quick peek at the dragonstone; the gem gleamed in the sunlight, but it was all natural light, any trace of arcane energy dormant. He approached the ancient Night Fury and bowed his head.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes, I heard you come in. Do come closer, dear.” Her blank peered at him as Moonlight lay down on one of the tree’s large roots. “I trust you slept silently, although probably not peacefully.”

A lump arose in Toothless’s throat. Did she know? 

Before he could respond, the wizened female chuckled. “You do not need to share your dreams with me, child. If the stone revealed something to you, that is your business to decide its meaning.”

“What even is it?” Toothless asked.

“That is a question that has no straight answer. The stones have minds of their own, yet they do not ‘live’ as we do. They have thoughts and ideas, and yet their understanding of the world is far beyond a mortal dragon. They rarely communicate, and never clearly. Perhaps only their discoverer ever truly understood them, and no one has attempted to directly commune with a dragonstone for over a century.” 

Moonlight smiled at him. “You saw the expanse of its power, the infinite capability guided by its own consciousness. Terrifying to comprehend, wouldn’t you agree?”

Toothless had to admit, he was terrified. It was unknown, beyond any other sense of the word. “Have you ever looked into it?” he asked.

“On occasion, but my mind is old and weathered. My life is content and close to fulfilment, so there is little desire within me that concerns it. I admire its beauty, and dream of memories of my childhood that it was present for. I’d imagine even a sentient gem gets lonely sometimes. But I never ask anything of it, nor attempt to understand that which I cannot.”

Murky sapphire eyes looked in his direction; Toothless had to admit, Moonlight’s senses were keen despite her age and blindness. “What do you think of Mystholm?”

“It’s incredible!” the Alpha exclaimed. “Everything here is so beautiful, yet different. It’s a shame that Night Furies can’t share it all, though.”

Moonlight stared blankly. “We did once, hundreds of years ago. But the old have become lost in conflict, and the young are few. You are right to help Ash, even if the threat is only potential. She has a good heart, and a deep appreciation for life.”

“She does,” Toothless nodded. “And I want to help! There’s some things I think I need to understand, though, first.”

“Then ask away, child.” Moonlight posed.

Toothless thought for a moment before answering. “I keep hearing references to old Night Fury history; the time of Nightshade, the Cataclysm, that sort of thing. Ash seems fond of those stories, I was hoping you could tell me some.”

The old dragon laughed. “Ah yes, Nightshade and the Cataclysm. Well, lucky for you those stories are almost one and the same. And you are right, you must know of the Cataclysm to understand our current problems.” Moonlight leaned down, taking a brief drink from the pond before rising up. “Listen well, dear.”

“Many centuries ago, before humankind began venturing north, dragons reigned supreme across these lands and seas. There have always been nests of mixed dragons ruled by Alphas, mostly giant sea dragons and other beasts of great power. But there were also dragons who sought to claim territory only for others of their race; they did not wish to live under the yoke of larger dragons, preferring to create kingdoms for themselves alone.

The knowledge of how Mystholm was discovered by Night Furies has long since faded, but our kind have claimed these islands for our own for centuries. In those days few could challenge our gifts for stealth and destruction, and our strength lay in numbers that could not be seen in twilight. We conquered Mystholm for our own; in that time we chose a King of the Night Furies, who would rally us to defend our home and ruled on disputes.

The responsibility of the king was passed from father to son for generations; there were wise kings and warlike ones, ones who sought to strengthen our race along with others who only desired to sleep and throw responsibility on others. I was born during the reign of Skyclimber, both a great warrior and a wise king. He had twin sons, Nightshade and Cinder.

While both princes were great Night Furies, Nightshade far surpassed his brother in both ferocity and arrogance. He sought to make our race the dominant dragon across the earth, leading several campaigns to destroy hostile nests and training other Night Furies in the art of war. He was kind to children and innocents, yet his cruelty to those he deemed savage or bloodthirsty was equal. He was ambitious, desiring to raise Night Furies to be the arbiters of all life. But more than anything else, Nightshade was curious. He travelled far to understand the secrets of the world and how it worked, holding a soft spot for humanity. At first he too treated them as an enemy… but as he aged he came to admire humans deeply. He was keenly interested in their ability to create and discover things, avidly collecting human inventions. 

When Skyclimber was nearing advanced age, and his sons were in the prime of youth, many wondered who the old king would choose to be his successor. Nightshade desired to do something daring and outlandish, to prove to all our race that he was worthy while also satisfying his natural curiosity. Without consulting anyone he attempted to enter the summit of Nightmare’s Eyrie, wishing to discover how and why the mountain erupted. He delved deep into the mountain, and many thought that he would die as Night Furies are not impervious to lava. But he emerged unscathed, his eyes filled with wonder; he had discovered something in the heart of the volcano, remnants of a civilization long dead. And he had proof! He came back from inside the Eyrie with five exquisite gems, presenting them to his father as a gift.

All lauded him for his bravery, and yet in the weeks following, Mystholm was plagued with strange happenings. Fish would multiply on land, the weather would abruptly change, and large objects beyond the strength of a normal dragon would start moving around. Night Furies would hear unfamiliar voices in words they couldn’t understand, and chaos began to erupt. Eventually Nightshade realized that the source of the mysterious events was linked to the stones. He took it as a sign that the world itself had blessed our race with magic, devoting the remainder of his life to studying the ‘dragonstones’ as he called them. 

As he learned, the stones began to grow. The powers within them began to learn from Nightshade, and developed thoughts of their own. Each became different from the other, all five stones becoming their own distinct entity, beginning to communicate in thought only. Nightshade even took to naming the gems based on the ways in which they employed their magic. Herentir, the obsidian stone of order. Nancarin, the ruby gem gifted in destruction. Kemenar, the emerald stone attached to the natural world. Antaris, the amber gem of change and alteration. And Haronar, the first of the stones to awaken, whose powers and thoughts both eclipsed—and blended—all the others. 

Nightshade began to employ the magic of the dragonstones, healing injury, enriching the life of Mystholm, and wiping out any foe who dared to approach our territory. The more they were used, the deeper and greater the abilities of the stones became, along with their awareness of life and thought.

Night Furies grew powerful and lively, Mystholm becoming enriched by the arcane. But one of Nightshade’s closest friends—a great warrior and leader named Runar—became consumed with jealousy and greed. Seeking the power of the stones for himself, he stole Nancarin and fled to the southeast, where endless lands stretch to the horizon. 

None heard from him for many years, until strange creatures began to emerge from that land; foul beasts of some terrible mutation, dark creatures grown from the corrupted bodies of both humans and dragons. Runar, in his greed and lust for power, had poured his darkest designs into Nancarin; the stone warped into a dark, unnatural being, and both Night Fury and stone decayed into evil.

Soon an uncountable number of their twisted creations—which they christened ‘Morian’—descended into Mystholm, along with other places across the sea. Horrors beyond comprehension were in abundance; the slaughter of every living creature was great, the power of the dark dragonstone rolling over the earth. The old king was killed, and his body desecrated. In his grief, Nightshade assumed the role of king, forsaking all desire to place Night Furies above the other races of the world. He rallied all our people to his side, along with many other dragons. Taking the other four stones, he waged war on the dark creatures led by Runar.

Many years of carnage left Night Furies increasingly depleted, and yet Nightshade was able to beat back the onslaught of darkness emanating from the southern continent. But he realized he could not spend our blood forever. Resolving to give his life for his people, and put an end to the cataclysm he felt he had unleashed, Nightshade took a small army of his most loyal. Along with the four dragonstones, he descended into the heart of Runar’s domain. 

But even this desperate battle was not enough; Runar had become twisted beyond recognition, a savage creature that no mortal being could best in battle. And Nancarin had long surpassed the destructive capability of the other stones, easily contending with the obsidian, emerald, and amber gems. Runar sought to cause great suffering to Nightshade, slaying both Cinder and their mother in combat before advancing on the new king.

The battle seemed hopeless, with the future of all at stake. But Haronar, whose conscience and understanding of creation was great, decided to forsake its newfound sentience for the good of all. The sapphire gem unleashed all of its power in a vast inferno, laying waste to the continent. But his magic was pure and direct, causing unimaginable harm to the dark creatures while leaving the remaining Night Furies unharmed. Runar’s body was vaporized, and the dark magic of Nancarin was suppressed, the gem shattering across the land.

Disaster had been averted, and yet the cost had been beyond anything we had anticipated. Night Furies had been driven almost to extinction, with many of our young perishing in battle. And while vast armies of Morian had been destroyed, the southern lands were still corrupted by darkness. They are the Wastes, and none venture there even now. And Nightshade? The once great Night Fury was broken, forsaking all desire for life and love that he had before. He abandoned the emerald stone here on this island, and the fate of the obsidian gem is unknown. He took only Antaris with him and vanished into the Wastes, condemning himself to exile or death. His betrothed, Holly, died of heartbreak soon after, and the royal line was no more. 

We few that survived have struggled to repopulate over the century and a half since this Cataclysm, with the survivors warring for power and desire to claim lordship over our race. Whether one can unite us again is unknown, but hope remains.”

“Well, child?” Moonlight croaked. “There are some answers for you, I hope. An explanation for the dire straits all Night Furies are in. Those of us who settled on Aylan yearned for a life of peace, while the warriors who still thirsted for blood attempted to survive on Seregon. And they never forgave us for keeping the stone, not after all they had seen.”

Toothless was speechless; he never could’ve imagined Night Furies having such a rich history, or that such a catastrophic event took place. But the Cataclysm explained quite a bit about Mystholm’s mystery and circumstances; how rich but different it was, the dragonstones, and their inability to repopulate in large numbers. 

But this Nightshade character sounded tragic, even if he may have caused chaos by discovering magic. 

“Do you think Nightshade is still in the Wastes somewhere? With the other stone?” he inquired.”

Moonlight tilted her weathered head, a flicker of regret creasing her expression. “I am unsure. He had no wish to live, and yet I don’t know why he would take Antaris with him if he didn’t intend to. In any case, no one knows. Few elders remain who remember him, but the younger dragons worship him as a mystical figure, saying that one day he will return to reclaim his throne.”

“Did you know him?”

The old dragon smiled. “We were not close, but I knew and respected him. I fought for him, joined him when he entered the Wastes. I saw many horrible things that day, including the destruction of the sapphire stone. I led a small group of survivors back here to Aylan; we had long settled the island, but I felt that this place would serve to protect us.”

“It was Nightshade who put Kemenar into this tree, and that was the last I saw of my king.”

Toothless eyed the stone, his fear of it somewhat abated. Its power and nature still disturbed him, and yet after the tale he had just been told, he felt somewhat grateful. The being had such power, yet for all intents and purposes seemed to choose to remain here, enriching Aylan’s life with magic. A welcome gift in troubled times. He understood now how desperately Ash wanted to reunite their people. Whether by dragon hunters, by the bloodlust of Night Furies themselves, or by the progression of time, they would die out eventually unless something changed.

“Moonlight, do you think we can do it? I mean really convince everyone to unite again?” the Alpha questioned.

The ancient dragon turned away, gazing deeply into the emerald stone that lay within the great tree. The gem glowed, softly, as Moonlight spoke; “I have hope, and that is all I can give you. You and Ash are young and of good character, I have no doubt that you will do all you can…”

“But?”

“But you mustn't forget that Night Furies are not bound to a place. We who have lived and fought here are proud, unwilling to leave. But you have a home to return to, and the younger Night Furies may find that setting off for new skies is best. Perhaps our conflicts are not from magic, but the consequences of attempting to deny our nature. We are dragons, solitary and aggressive, and that will not change. Perhaps attempting to claim a kingdom for ourselves was a mistake, and now we are facing the consequences centuries later.”

The elder faced Toothless once more. 

“Promise me this. That above all that you attempt to achieve, that you will stand by Ash; that you will protect her, and if all comes to ruin, that you will take her away from this place. She deserves a life, here or back where you are from. But don’t let her give herself up for our entire race. I cannot watch someone I love take the world on their shoulders a second time for nothing.”

The young Alpha’s expression hardened as he stared into Moonlight’s blank eyes. 

“You have my word.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: On the Doorstep

Hiccup stood on the edge of a cliff, the village of Berk bustling with activity beneath him. Dragons were swarming above the buildings as Vikings raced to and fro: moving livestock and food, some carrying weapons, others bringing their children to the Great Hall. A state of alarm was felt throughout the island, humans and dragons alike preparing for impending battle. Hiccup himself had donned his armored flight suit, his trusty fire sword resting in its clamp at his belt. He had ordered the island to be made safe as soon as scout dragons had brought warnings, and as he gazed through his spyglass, he let out a curse. 

It seemed with Toothless gone, his luck of avoiding problems was not as good as the Viking had hoped. Maybe the gods still hate me, just a little, Hiccup thought, as he gazed over a sea filled with ships.

The fleet had appeared on the horizon yesterday, and had taken the entire day to consolidate in their present location, a few miles west of the barrier statues. Thankfully they had sailed no further, which both relieved and confused the Viking chief. Having sent Snotlout and other riders to regularly survey the fleet, they confirmed Hiccup’s suspicions. They were all dragon hunter ships alright, with similar designs and weapons that he had seen many times already. What interested Hiccup is that the vast majority of the vessels bore an insignia that he had never seen before, a golden chalice overflowing with wine. Or blood, he reminded himself. 

There had to be at least 600 ships, the largest fleet he or any other Berkian had set eyes on. And there they sat, simply waiting, a great pile of dots across a canvas of blue. Two days before his wedding.

A squawk brought the young Viking’s attention away from the ships, and Hiccup lowered his spyglass to see Astrid and Stormfly emerging over the cliffside. Surprisingly, the large red shape of a Rumblehorn—Skullcrusher, with Eret son of Eret in the saddle—followed close behind.

“Any change in the fleet?” he yelled, as both dragons thudded to the ground behind him.

Gracefully sliding from her mount, Astrid holstered her axe on her back as she came to stand by her soon-to-be husband, pushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “Not a damn thing; all the ships have anchored. This is strange, Hiccup.” 

The chief brought one hand up to his chin, deep in thought, as the other found Astrid’s hand and squeezed gently. “We have more than enough dragons and warriors to defend the island,” Hiccup noted. “But this fleet is even larger than the one Drago had. If this comes down to a fight, a lot of people are gonna get hurt this time.”

Astrid turned to face him, putting her spare hand on his shoulder. “We’re all with you, and our ancestors would turn in their graves before we let Berk fall. But this all just seems weird!” She gestured to the armada stretched before them, motionless in the water. “Look! They’re just waiting out there. Why come with all these ships just to sit there and lose the element of surprise?”

“Perhaps they don’t actually wish to fight?” Eret had come to join the two of them at the cliff’s edge. “The fleet is huge, but I’ve never seen so many golden chalices before.”

Hiccup shot him a look of realization. “You know where they come from?!”

“Aye,” said Eret. “That chalice is unmistakable. It’s from Velesheim, a great trading city far to the west. They’re outside the Archipelago, so I have no idea what they’d be doing here.”

“Why’s a trading city have so many dragon hunter ships?” Astrid asked suspiciously. 

“Well that’s just the design, I’d think.” Eret shrugged his shoulders. “Velesheim’s a huge island city with a lot of shipyards, they’ve gotten pretty good at designing boats like that. They’ve got more money than this entire island 10 times over… Strange.”

“What’re you thinking?” Hiccup questioned.

Eret frowned as he gazed at the horde of ships. “Well I’ve never really heard of Velesheim sending ships to war themselves, they can just pay off mercenaries or hunters to do their dirty work… So why in god’s name would they be here? I’d wager they hardly knew anything about Berk ‘cept its existence, probably just tales from other trading boats.”

“Hiccup, look!” Astrid pointed to the ocean.

Bringing the spyglass back up to his face, Hiccup squinted at the still motionless armada of boats—except for one. A single ship had broken away from the group and was now headed in the direction of the docks, strikingly different from the others. The design was the same as the flagship that Drago had sailed on; a large main hull, with two attached sections for additional deck room and weaponry. It appeared almost twice the size of all the other largest ships. Much to Hiccup’s dismay, the entire vessel appeared to be covered in what he could only assume to be dragon-proof steel. Great shipyards, Hiccup thought, the images of both Drago’s fleet and those of older foes—like the steel clad inventions of Viggo Grimborn—appearing in his imagination. While the other boat’s sails were white this one bore black sails trimmed with golden edges, the chalice of Velesheim front and center. 

A clear flagship, and yet it looked like a toy boat compared to the vast armada that it now sailed away from with increasing speed. 

“Well,” the chief spoke, collapsing his spyglass, “It looks like we’re going to have visitors.”

Astrid’s jaw was set as she turned to mount Stormfly. “This smells like a trap, but at least their best ship gets hit first if all goes to hell.”

Hiccup quickly ran up to her with a hand extended, which Astrid took without hesitation, helping him up. As he positioned himself on Stormfly’s back, he shouted back; “Eret, I’ll meet you at the docks as soon as I can. We’re going to find my mom and the others so they know what to do. I want you to tell me everything you know about our guests before they hit the dock.”

“I assume you’ve got a plan?!” the former dragon hunter yelled, grinning as he raced to Skullcrusher.

“Bits and pieces of one; we’re prepared to defend Berk, but I want to know what these people want without having to sink the fleet, if possible!”

As Stormfly leapt into the air, Hiccup took another look at the titan ship racing towards Berk. Battle or no, this was going to be interesting. I could really use you right now, bud…

Back on Aylan…

Toothless glided above the treeline, scanning the island for any sign of Ash. Having just returned to the cave they had slept in the night before, only to find it empty, the Night Fury figured she had gone to meet friends somewhere on Aylan. But he had to admit, there wasn’t much to gain by staying above the forest. Other than the grotto and the mountain caves the rest of the island was a sea of thick vegetation, and the Alpha didn’t think it would be worth poking his snout in every single cave. And he had been wanting to look at more of the forest anyway. 

Finding a gap in the trees, the dragon dove down as the bright sunlight dimmed to gentle waves of green. This part of the forest was heavily filled with mushrooms, sprouting from the tree trunks in a variety of colors; hues of green and red, with waves and freckles of orange and brown across their rough surface. Toothless looked around — Ash could be anywhere.

“You look lost!”

He turned; another male Night Fury, one that looked to be on the younger side, was hanging batlike from a tree a few dozen feet away. He eyed Toothless with curiosity; You’re the newcomer, right? So it is true, you do fly with a fake tail.”

“Yep, that's me.” Toothless replied somewhat dryly. “And I’m looking for Ash, but I don’t really know my way around here yet.”

“I can probably help!” The other Night Fury released his tail from the tree, landing on all fours with a soft crunch of grass. Deep green eyes peered back at Toothless. “My name’s Thorn.”

“I’m Toothless. You have any idea where she might be?”

“We could try the hatchling grounds! That's where most of the eggs are laid, and parents bring their kids there to learn how to live as a Night Fury; breathe fire, first flights, etcetera.” 

Thorn gingerly stretched his wings, then leapt into the air. “C’mon, I’ll show you the way.” he called down as he circled Toothless once.

The Alpha quickly sprang into the air as well, gliding slightly behind Thorn as they began traversing the forest. They seemed to be headed to the more eastern side of the island. After a few minutes of silence, Thorn twisted his head under his chest to look back at the Night Fury trailing behind him.

“So, you live with humans back home, huh?” 

“I do. You don’t seem to disprove as much as some of the others.”

Thorn titled his head to one side. “Why should I? Most of the Night Furies here haven’t even seen a human; they don’t sail these waters basically ever, so we just hear about them from the elders.” He lifted his head back up to avoid a tree, before lessening his speed so he now flew side by side with Toothless. “Personally I think it's cool, your tail. The human who made it must be pretty smart, must like dragons a lot too.”

Toothless chuckled. “Right on both counts. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“You heard about what the Watcher’s did, right? And that a fleet could be on its way?”

Thorn’s ears flattened. “Yeah, everyone heard. Not something I’m looking forward to if it's true, and it's not like we can go check either. Humans can sail across open water for months, but there's few islands west of Mystholm for us to rest if we send a search pack.”

“So you do think they’re coming?” Toothless followed up.

“I mean it's definitely possible! I’m just hoping it's not.” Thorn looked dejected. “There's not enough of us who’ve fought before, I mean really fought. Like don’t get me wrong, a couple thousand dragons is powerful, but humans are crafty and there could be a lot more of them.” 

Toothless started; “Well, that's kind of why I’m here. I’m going to help Ash convince the other two colonies to join us.”

Thorn suddenly stopped, hovering in midair as he turned towards Toothless. “Woah, hold on. You’re not thinking of going to Seregon and asking for help, are you?” he panicked.

“I mean, don’t you think the situation could call for it?” Toothless asked.

Thorn groaned. “Ok maybe true, but that's not the point! Night Furies on Seregon don’t talk, they kill things. You enter their skies and they will just shoot you without a word!”

“I still have to try!” Toothless argued. “And maybe I’ll be able to convince them to meet because I’m not from Aylan. No offense…” he added sheepishly.

“None taken.” Thorn resumed his path through the trees with a loud exhale. “Ok, but good luck getting a single word in. Talking to a dragon from Seregon is hopeless.”

As they continued to fly, Thorn continued to talk. “I guess talking to the Watchers isn’t completely impossible, I’ve just never heard of anyone doing it just for conversation. You’re either there to join them or you leave them alone. High and mighty bastards…”

“You don’t like the Watchers?” Toothless asked.

“Don’t get me wrong, having a fighting group that anyone can join has its uses, like if you’re older or don’t have anyone tying you down. And I suppose saving dragons is a good thing…” Thorn growled. 

“But they think that gives them the right to shut themselves away from the rest of us! If there is a human fleet coming, it's because they caused it by torching a city in the name of ‘virtue’. And we’ll be the ones paying the price, not them. They don’t have attachment to home like we do, and hatchlings and elder Night Furies to protect.” 

Toothless had to admit, the idea of the Watchers—while the mission was somewhat appealing on a moral level—was slowly filling him with anger. Whoever led them was either extremely self-righteous or had completely given up on a normal life, or both; Toothless couldn’t help but feel a little rage at the fact that these Watchers caused all this impending danger, and seemed to have no regard for the other Night Furies that this would impact.

“I can see your point. Though who knows? Maybe the threat will shock them into reintegrating with the real world, don’t you think?"

Thorn grunted. “Maybe, but I doubt it. They’ve been close-jawed and aloof for over a century. Still, I suppose it's worth a shot.”

“Oh, we’re almost there!”

They were coming to the edge of the forest, and Toothless could begin to see clear ground covered in rocks. Faint hissing grew louder as they approached, and Toothless could see multiple fissures in the ground spewing hot steam upwards, likely giving heat to various pools of water that lay scattered amongst the rock. The cliff’s edge could be seen as well; they were at the northwesternmost edge of Aylan, Nightmare’s Eyrie easily visible amongst the blue ocean that stretched outward. Night Furies lay lounging amongst the rocks and geysers, and a few hatchlings were running about. As they landed, Toothless smiled; Ash was here and surrounded by a group of hatchlings, who gave her their undivided attention as she appeared to be telling a story.

As him and Thorn walked up to the group, Ash looked up mid-sentence, her wide-eyed expression of storytelling giving way to a mischievous grin. 

Pointing a wing at Toothless, she whispered loudly. “Look, there! That’s the big bad Night Fury from my story! Get him!”

Before he knew it, he was almost knocked over by several Night Fury hatchlings, who began to play bite and grab his wings and tail. Feigning defeat, he reared up before gently falling on his back; “Argh, there's too many of them! No!” 

Toothless playfully swatted a paw at one hatchling, wincing through a laugh as he felt another bite his ear.

Ash giggled, watching the Night Fury struggle to fend off the pile of child dragons that had dove on him. After a short time she growled low to regain the children’s attention, then smiled. “Ok kids, storytime is over for the day. Go find your parents, I have to talk to my friend.” A collective groan of dissapointment rose up from the hatchlings, who climbed off of Toothless and began to disperse.

As Ash approached him, she regarded Thorn with a warm look. “It’s good to see you, Thorn! How’re things?”

“You too! I can’t complain, I was just showing your friend around hoping to find you.” With a nod in Toothless’s direction, Thorn took to the air. “See you around you two, and good luck!” he called down, sailing back into the forest with a gust of air.

“C’mon, let’s fly! We can talk up there.” Ash said, and Toothless followed her as she leapt into the air. The pair of Night Furies began to circle the island as they gained altitude, not another dragon in sight.

“So?” Ash questioned. “How was your meeting with Moonlight?”

“Good! She’s quite a dragon; I can see why you respect her so much.” he answered, looking in the direction of the crescent peak. “She told me about the Cataclysm, too. Things make a little more sense with that in mind.”

“Yeah,” Ash remarked, slightly embarrassed. “I figured I was already asking a lot of you to believe me… I didn’t want to add that we never recovered from a catastrophic war 150 years ago, ya know?”

“No, I get it. So how are we gonna move forward?” Toothless looked at her. “If we want to unite all the Night Furies, we’ve got to talk with someone from Seregon and with someone from the Watchers.”

Ash’s mouth twisted, not unlike a human smirk, but when she spoke her voice was laced with displeasure. “So we have one mysterious colony with an unknown leader, and one warlike colony where the leader might kill you. Do you want my honest opinion?”

“Of course.”

Ash made eye contact with Toothless, and he could detect a flicker of fear in her expression. “I think you should go to Seregon, and I don’t think it’s wise for me to go with you. They’ll know I’m from Aylan and even if we were allowed to speak, they wouldn’t respect me. And if it comes to it, you have a much better chance of fighting your way out than I do.”

Toothless was silent for a moment, thinking hard before replying. “I think I agree. So I need to try and talk to this ‘Angalon’, if he calls the shots.”

“Right. They’ll shoot first, but if they allow you to talk they’ll only take you seriously if you prove yourself to be strong-willed. Angalon is old, but he’s powerful and proud, and he’s not an idiot. Whatever you do, do not insult him .”

“What about his son, Talon? Could I convince him?” Toothless questions.

“Maybe, he’s… nicer than the others.” Ash remarked as they continued to fly. “I met him once, years back. Talon isn’t as bloodthirsty as the majority of them, but he’s proud too, and he loves his father. It wouldn’t hurt, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“You met him, huh? Wonder how that came about.”

Ash chuckled dryly. “I’ll tell you all about it after you get back. Just promise me you’ll come back in one piece.” 

“I promise. Don’t worry, I’m not under any illusions. I know Seregon is dangerous.” But so am I, Toothless thought, before continuing. “What are you going to do?”

Ash looked in the direction of the ocean, eying the great shadow of a mountain that rose up from the horizon. “I’m going to the Eyrie. If I can get someone from the Watchers to talk to me, maybe I can find direction towards whoever's in charge. After that, I have no idea what to expect.”

“Thorn didn’t seem to have a very high opinion of the Watchers.” Toothless mentioned. “They don’t seem to be the predictable type, or trustworthy I guess. But I have faith in you.”

Ash smiled at him. “I’m flattered. We should wait until tomorrow morning to leave, to make sure we’re well rested.” They flew in silence, each of them contemplating what they were about to attempt.

Finally, Ash spoke up again. “You know, the day’s still young… Ooh! There are caves in Aylans mountain that I need to show you, with walls that glitter like starlight! There are  gems the size of large fruits in there.”

She turned back in the direction of the island, surging ahead with a blast of air. “C’mon! Don’t fall behind!”

Toothless grinned, the air whistling past his ears as he changed direction to follow her. Seregon could wait until tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Negotiation

“My lord, I take it back. This may have been a horrible idea.”

Ragnar shook his head, refraining from arguing with Halfdan, who stared at the village of Berk in terror. And he could not blame him, for there were more dragons covering the town—and swarming above in the air—than he had likely seen in his entire life. There had to be thousands of them, dragons of every shape, size, color, and species. The armour and weaponry of the Endeavor suddenly didn’t seem so reassuring in the face of the draconic cloud that twisted above the island, especially with the fleet anchored far from shore. 

But while the first mate was physically recoiling at the sight of an impending inferno, the lord of Velesheim was calm as sailors set a plank in place for disembarkment. If what he had heard about this dragon master was true, he would have nothing to fear if he had nothing to fight about. And Ragnar was not here to fight.

The aged lord slowly descended from the deck of the Endeavor, taking in the sights of the village that stretched up from the docks. The houses were all of traditional Viking design, and yet Ragnar was impressed by the wide variety of colors and shapes; strange bowls and carvings were spread out among the houses, likely devices to accommodate so many dragon residents. There were many Vikings too, large, burly, and armed to the teeth. As he continued his descent, a young male voice called out to him.

“I take it you’re the leader of this great fleet!”

Ragnar looked up as his feet touched the dock. A Stormcutter dragon— a rare and curious beast , he thought—was perched atop a dockside building, and resting in one of its massive wings was a young man in his early twenties. He was remarkably skinny for a Viking, with messy auburn hair. As the Stormcutter lowered a wing for the man to climb down, Ragnar could see he was dressed in draconic-looking armour, dotted with scales and gears and strange bits of metal. More than that, the lower part of his left leg was gone, replaced by an impressive prosthetic. Bright green eyes stared back at Ragnar as the young Viking came to stand in front of him.

“I am indeed, though I must say this island is beginning to impress me more than the fleet. You must be Chief Hiccup, the one they call dragon master.” Ragnar stepped forward, extending a hand. “I am Ragnar Iverson, one of the High Lords of Velesheim.”

The Stormcutter hissed from the roof of the building, eying his hand with a venomous look. But Hiccup seemed undeterred, grasping Ragnar’s hand firmly despite looks from the crowd of Vikings. “I’ve heard little of Velesheim, I hope you will be able to tell me a lot about this great city. Maybe after telling me why you would sail so many ships this far into the middle of nowhere.”

The lord of Velesheim couldn’t help but chuckle, replying; “They did not tell me you would be so young and at ease, but you have a point. It’s true that we’ve come a long way at great expense. I give you my word that we have no quarrel with Berk, nor any other Viking tribe in the Barbaric Archipelago. I wished to talk to you actually, and seek information.” 

Gesturing to the glaive on his back, Ragnar continued. “I would offer you my blade as a gesture of peace. Though, looking at that slithering cloud overhead, I doubt it would be much use to me anyway.”

Hiccup waved a hand dismissively. “There’s no need for that, I’m grateful enough that the rest of your unbelievably large armada remains offshore. Come, we can talk in the Great Hall.” 

As the young chief turned to go, Ragnar waved a hand, and the crew of the Endeavor hoisted up the gangplank; although they were following his orders, he was fully aware that he was now in completely foreign territory.

Taking the long and winding path towards what Ragnar could only assume was their Great Hall, he took careful observance of the village surroundings. The Vikings that lined the roads and building entrances all stood silently; some regarded the outsider with suspicion, others contempt, a few older warriors spitting the ground as they passed. But beyond that no one uttered a word beyond observable muttering, with some of the villagers even turning away to return to their daily business. Yet by observing as they walked Ragnar noticed, interestingly, that these Viking’s seemed to possess a level of sophistication that he did not expect for an island village of this size. He noticed that above the thresholds of buildings was what appeared to be wooden gullets and buckets of water, perhaps a method of preventing fire damage to the structures. The quality of their metal also intrigued the lord of Velesheim deeply, as it shined brighter than the best steel. A dragon-related invention, perhaps? Judging from the armour of the young man that walked beside him, lord Ragnar silently acknowledged a surge of respect for the chief of Berk. Dragon master indeed, but a transformational leader as well.

“I must admit, chief Hiccup, I did not expect to find a human settlement so advanced, at least not in this harsh place.” the lord uttered, boots clattering against stone as the two men began to climb a series of steps.

The auburn-haired dragon rider shrugged, smiling. “Well, we’ve had a lot of time and a lot of damage to repair, recently. I mean, none of this would be possible without the dragons. Which, I should probably mention…” he threw a thumb over his shoulder, no doubt at the Endeavor. “... they definitely aren’t happy with all the ships and weapons you brought.”

The corners of Ragnar’s mouth turned upwards at Hiccup’s comment. “Yes, I’d imagine they would be. I will not lie to you, dragon master, I was once a dragon hunter in my youth. Velesheim sits in an interesting location, where men can either seek fortune to the great lands southwest, or hunt in the dragon-populated islands to the north. I have done both; no doubt an occupation you find vile. However, my fleet stays where they are because I have commanded it. I have not come to Berk for your dragons, chief.”

“Oh really?” Hiccup questioned. “And why else would you bother to take over 600 armed ships here?”

“I don’t know if you would believe me when I say that this is not our intended destination. We have many more miles to sail after this, I assure you. Actually…” he stopped, turning to face the chief; although both men were of decent height, Ragnar towered over Hiccup. “I came to meet you, dragon master. I was hoping that you would assist me.”

The young dragon rider crossed his arms, almost smirking, but Ragnar detected a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. “Well I’m not exactly sure what help I can give you, but we can discuss it more thoroughly over food and drink. I’d imagine fresh food’s been difficult to get since Velesheim is so far from here.”

“I would be most grateful.”

The two men reached the summit of the steps, finding the doors of the Great Hall open. Warm light issued from the hall, but the vast benches and hearths were absent of any Vikings as far as Ragnar could tell. The large pillars were decorated with traditional nordic symbols, along with winding dragon carvings that reached the ceiling. There were also numerous wreaths of antlers, forest plants and autumn, perhaps to commemorate the arrival of winter or some other yearly celebration. And it was impossible not to notice the giant, scorched tusk that hung from chains, likely the weapon of some great sea dragon taken in battle. Most impressive.  

Hot breath grazed the back of lord Ragnar’s neck, a low growl raising the hair on his neck; stiffening, he turned, one hand twitching for his glaive despite his self-control. The Stormcutter from the docks, which had clearly made it here before them and had likely been hanging from the threshold, stood right behind him. Mustard yellow orbs gazed angrily at him, the owl-faced dragon clearly caring little if his intentions were pure or not. 

“Oh, don’t mind Cloudjumper. He’s not fond of hunters, but if it’s true that you aren’t here to take our dragons, then he won’t bother you.” Hiccup eased himself into a chair at the head of a large oak table, motioning for the lord of Velesheim to sit opposite. Unhooking his glaive slowly, despite a sharp growl from the dragon, Ragnar stood the weapon up alongside a pillar before taking a seat. Cloudjumper did not move closer, the quad-winged beast hoisting himself back up to hang above the entrance like a sentry.

“Speaking of that, I do have to ask. You obviously look well off, and are in high command of the armada outside. Why did you ‘give up’ dragon hunting?” Hiccup questioned, his emphasis not lost on Ragnar.

Grasping a cup of ale, the lord stared into the amber liquid. “I found love, strangely enough. I found a wife, and she… did not approve of my line of work: the long journeys, the constant risk of being mauled by a dragon. So I found an occupation in the city itself to be closer to her. Now we have a daughter as well.”

“Well, I admire your dedication to your family.” Hiccup admitted, raising a cup in acknowledgement. “But here you are, leading a great fleet armed to the teeth with dragon-killing weaponry. It’s a little contradictory, don’t you think?”

“True,” said Ragnar. “But I am now a lord of Velesheim, responsible for the city’s guard, security, and any military action that must be taken. That is partly why I am here; believe me, I did not jump for joy at this task.”

Hiccup eyed him curiously. “I heard from a friend of mine, also a former dragon hunter, that Velesheim is very rich and powerful. I also heard that they rarely send out their own armies, preferring to pay others to do the dirty work.”

“No, that is true enough. Our city is large and has gained incredible wealth from all manners of trade. Most impressive are our shipyards, which have serviced dragon hunters and navies of western nations for many years. And yet, admittedly, we have rarely had to raise our own armies against an enemy; location, reputation, wealth, take your pick.”

“Let me guess.” Hiccup posed. “Velesheim did get attacked. And if you came all this way just to talk to me, I’ll bet it wasn’t a human foe.”

Ragnar took a long draft of ale, his eyes never leaving Hiccup’s. “Indeed. Even dragons have never dared to attack us; islands are not close by, and there are no known nests nearby either. And yet our city was set aflame by flying beasts. I think the manner of the attack might be of interest to you.”

“How so?”

The old lord glared. “We were attacked in the night, and no one could see or perceive the dragons that attacked us. All that could be heard were high-pitched screams, followed by bursts of purple and blue flame that melted steel and shattered stone. The damage was significant, the death toll as well. The dragons were almost invisible; all that we could see were shadows that blotted out the stars before incinerating something on the ground.” 

Pulling a plate of food towards him, Ragnar continued while deboning meat, still making eye contact with Hiccup. “I have studied many dragon species, and there is only one that could possibly commit such an act of destruction in complete darkness and vanish. I think you know of what dragon I speak of.”

Hiccup’s face betrayed no emotion. “You want to know if you were attacked by Night Furies.”

“Well, you are the expert.” Ragnar admitted. “I am surprised that I have not seen your Night Fury, though I know reasonably that your one dragon did not do this deed.”

“He’s probably busy ruling all these dragons, but you’re right in any case,” said Hiccup. “He couldn’t do what you’re describing, but I’ll admit, it does sound like you were attacked by Night Furies. But that doesn’t make any sense! My dragon is widely considered the last of his kind — why on earth would a pack of Night Furies just appear out of the blue and attack Velesheim?”

“I do not know. But the other lords of Velesheim have funded this fleet at great expense to catch these creatures. I am only seeking clarification that these creatures are what I believe them to be, and you are the only one who would know. Have you seen any other dragons that could do this?” 

Hiccup scratched his chin. “No, I haven’t, but again, the chance of your dragon adversaries being Night Furies, while provable by the evidence of the attack, is still extremely unlikely. Forgive me, but it seems to be a heavy investment in a fleet based on hunting a dragon that might be where you’re going.”

“That is true enough. In Velesheim, cost is of little consequence. But I never enter a fight without as many advantages as I can.” Ragnar stated.

“Fair point. So if you didn’t come here for your mysterious ‘Night Fury’ attackers, where are you going?” questioned the chief.

In between mouthfuls of food, Ragnar answered. “There is a small archipelago far to the southeast, directly east from Velesheim across the vastness of the ocean. We call it Mystholm, the mystic isles. Little is known about this place; some consider it to be haunted, and I can’t think of any man who has ever mapped its waters. That is where we are going.”

Hiccup leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “Seems out of the way. Why do you think you’ll find your dragons there if you couldn’t see them?”

“We could not see them in combat, that much is true.” Ragnar admitted. “But despite the darkness the sky was still littered with stars. Many were still able to take note of the large dark shadow blocking out the light, fleeing east. Where else would they go but to Mystholm?”

“I see. But you know dragons are intelligent, and in my personal experience Night Furies are among the smartest. They could’ve simply changed direction, given you the slip.”

“You speak the truth, chief.” Ragnar stated. “And I will be the first to admit that our evidence for undertaking this expedition is shaky at best. But blood was spilt, and we must avenge the dead of our city. And as I told you, cost is of no consequence. Who knows, perhaps Mystholm will provide us with untold riches. It’s an unexplored land, after all.” 

The lord took another drink.

“That's why I sent a portion of my fleet there already.”

This time, Ragnar could clearly see surprise across Hiccup’s features. “You have more ships?”

“I do, captained by hardened dragon hunters. Some were former servants of Drago Bludvist, who I’m sure you know. They would not have agreed with my decision to break bread with dragon riders, so I sent them ahead to avoid causing Berk any problems. If they find nothing, then we can all head home when I arrive. But if they do… then I will have gained my proof without sacrificing my own men to unknown danger.”

Hiccup nodded, twirling the liquid in his own cup as he eyed Ragnar for any sign of deception. “I see, smart if the cost is of no consequence. And I’m grateful that those hunters did not come here — it wouldn’t have ended well between them and the dragons who don’t forgive their cruelty.”

“Look, Ragnar, I won’t lie to you; I can’t support you on a mission to hunt down a nest of dragons, although I’m not going to attempt to stop you either. And I’m going to be completely transparent. If you came here expecting me to have pieces of information about Night Furies that could help you, I’m afraid I don’t. My Night Fury doesn’t have any unique weaknesses that could help you, and honestly, I wouldn’t share them even if I knew some.”

The lord of Velesheim nodded in acceptance, concealing his disappointment. “Well then, I won’t trouble your island any more than necessary. My fleet will be departing in the morning. But, if I may, I don’t wish to leave empty-handed… if you’ll hear one last request.”

“I’m all ears.” 

Ragnar’s face was resolute. “I believe that, despite my people’s tolerance—and profit from—dragon hunting, we as two islands can benefit greatly from trade. If we were to exchange terms, I’d imagine that Berk could become rich and plentiful beyond your wildest dreams. And I’ll admit that having a trading partner with access to dragons without having to hunt them would be of great benefit to my city.”

“It’s tempting, especially from what I’ve heard of the riches of your city.” Hiccup admitted. “But my terms are going to be very specific, especially about the dragons. The dialogue is worth having at least; I’ll send my requests with you to bring back to the other lords of your city, and we’ll see how it turns out.” Raising his cup, the chief of Berk smiled warmly. “Here’s to new alliances, hopefully.”

Ragnar raised his drink in agreement, the clink of the horned cups sounding throughout the Great Hall.

Some time later…

“See, Halfdan, you still seem to be in one piece!” Ragnar greeted, his feet now firmly planted on the deck of the Endeavor. The sails were in the process of being unfurled, the armoured flagship ready to leave Berk behind.

Halfdan did not appreciate his lord’s humor. “While you were feasting and drinking, I’ve been sitting under a cloud of dragons for hours, with a couple hundred angry Northmen less than a hundred feet away! Do you find joy in my distress?!”

“You worry too much, old friend.” Ragnar patted his first mate on the shoulder, his other hand grasping a thick roll of parchment sealed with a dragon wax sigil. “Look, terms from the dragon chief. We may find this to be the most valuable prize of this expedition.”

“Perhaps,” said Halfdan. “But we still travelled all this way for almost nothing.”

Ragnar tucked the parchment into his belt. “Not entirely; Chief Hiccup did not deny that we could have been attacked by Night Furies, and we were able to keep our stores of food replenished as we navigated the islands. We will arrive at Mystholm fully fed, armed, with terms for future trade and riches, and the rest of the fleet will enter the islands within the week before us. We will have gained much and lost little, minus some dragon hunters.”

He detected a flicker of unease in Halfdan’s expression, but it did not concern Ragnar. The dragon hunters may be under his command, but he freely admitted that the actual soldiers of Velesheim were the only lives he meant to preserve. Such is life, after all.

“Halfdan, while you waited… did you by chance notice the Night Fury among the dragons?”

“No my lord, no one did. Is it not the leader?”

Ragnar ran a hand through his greying mane, the wind picking up as the Endeavor increased speed. “I thought so too, yet it was not with Hiccup, either. The Stormcutter guarded him in its place. Very interesting that we are attacked by dragons as black as night, and yet the only known Night Fury in existence seems to be occupied.”

Halfdan shrugged. “True, but one Night Fury couldn’t have done an attack that size.”

“You’re right.” Ragnar took one last glance at the isle of Berk. “But it is interesting, thats all.”

Back in the Great Hall…

Hiccup leaned back in his chair, feet on the table as he absentmindedly read the terms lord Ragnar had left him. The terms were favorable, and yet his mind was miles southeast.

“So what do you think?!” he called out. “You think he was telling the truth?”

A figure emerged from behind one of the large pillars, completely unnoticeable from standing in the center of the hall. 

As Astrid came to sit on the table next to him, she grabbed the parchment from his hands and scanned the pages. “He didn’t seem to have anything to hide, but now you’ve got a bigger problem. Unless there’s another mystery archipelago to the southeast, that’s where you told me Toothless went. And that’s where they’re going.”

Running both hands through his hair, Hiccup took a deep breath. “This can’t be a coincidence. A Night Fury shows up out of the blue and takes Toothless to what I assume is this ‘Mystholm’ place, and this fleet shows up saying they're hunting a nest of dragons that sound exactly like Night Furies. And they’re also going to Mystholm.”

“Even if it isn’t, they could find Toothless on the way and he’s gonna be in trouble.” Astrid stated. “What should we do? You just handed Ragnar terms for peaceful trade.”

“True, and I aim to keep that peace. I’m not sending a dragon army after him.” Hiccup smiled, taking her hand. “But I can’t just stand by while they go off to hunt dragons, even if Ragnar came in peace.” 

Green eyes made contact with light blue. “First, we’re going to get married in two days, because that’s more important. But after, I think I can think of a way we can help Toothless without drawing Velesheim’s ire.”

Astrid smiled back. “Oh, really? What grand plan will it be this time?” she asked sarcastically.

“All will be revealed in good time, milady.” Hiccup answered, waving a hand theatrically. “I’m going to head to the forge; would you mind finding Fishlegs and the twins and having them meet me there?” 

She nodded, planting a kiss on his forehead as she ran out.

The chief of Berk rose to leave, approaching Cloudjumper, who stared intently. “I need another favor from you, friend. Tomorrow morning, can you and my mom gather the sea dragons in the dock? I want to see how many we have.”

The owl-faced dragon blinked and nodded, before taking flight through the doors.

“Let’s just hope this isn’t a bad idea.” Hiccup said to himself.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Fire and Water

The seas were calm, not another creature in sight as Toothless streaked across the sky, Aylan having long faded beyond his rear view. All he had to do was fly a wide circular path around the Eyrie, Ash said, and in a matter of hours he would reach Seregon. And it was impossible to lose sight of the volcano, which was currently spewing heavy clouds of ash into the already dreary sky. The great mountain was active, the bursts of magma echoing like distant claps of thunder across the sea. The solitary peak, and the fog-covered trees surrounding it, filled Toothless with a foreboding sense of worry. 

Not for himself, he realized, but for Ash; no doubt she had already arrived there, likely searching the forests for any sign of the Watchers. Please don’t get into too much trouble, he thought. At least where Toothless was going he could put names to his adversaries, even if he might have to fight his way in or out. Although in both cases, these islands were both sure to be interesting to explore, should he get the chance.

As he flew, Toothless found his thoughts drifting back to Moonlight’s tale of the Cataclysm. To think that Mystholm—and by implication, many other lands—had once been controlled by Night Furies was a strange, almost invigorating thought. What a dragon this Nightshade must have been on the one hand to strive for such power for his race, and then another thing to set it aside for the greater good. How many other stories did the Night Furies of Mystholm know? he wondered, resolving to ask Moonlight to narrate some more if he ever found the time. In his time among humans, the Night Fury had often heard in passing Vikings trading the stories of their culture: some strange folk tales, others rich lore of their gods. But for dragons to have this shared memory as well filled him with warmth. Deeper still grew the Alpha’s resolve, especially considering how much this meant to Ash. He only hoped that there were enough Night Furies who also yearned for this wider connection, then the prospect of unification might not be far-fetched after all.

And though he glided across unfamiliar skies, a strange feeling began to take root in his heart; a chance at a future, a life in line with others of his race, perhaps—though he had rarely considered the possibility before now—a family of his own. He could no longer deny the warmth that Ash’s presence brought to him, and the sense of belonging that came with being among dragons of near-identical wants and abilities. And yet Toothless likewise began to feel conflict intertwining with his newfound joy. He’d been gone for almost a month now, and Hiccup and Astrid’s wedding should occur in a matter of days. He wondered what all had transpired on Berk since he left; equally did he miss home, the presence of his rider, and bonds he had made over the years. Toothless hoped that, after all this was over, he would not be forced to choose between old and new.

In any case, soon he would have more pressing issues to attend to; on the grey horizon another shape began to appear, a warped and jagged island strikingly different from the lush forests and crescent peak of Aylan. Although Ash had pointed out Seregon upon their entry into Mystholm, Toothless had to admit that the island looked even harsher up close. The high-rising cliffs were bleak and barren, not a trace of life anywhere… except for faint black dots, in various stages of flight around it. Shit, he thought. Likely fishing and hunting parties, or patrols, it made no difference; so much for an easy entry. Quickly pumping his wings to gain altitude, Toothless entered the uttermost lowest layer of cloud so that he could still see Seregon, but hopefully his black scales were slightly concealed against the bleak sky. Wisps of vapor and grey clouds streaked past his face as he grew closer, until he could see that Seregon appeared much more detailed from above than below; the island face split into great towers of rock, with deep cracks plunging into the island face, likely housing caves.

Now that he had found a sufficient vantage point to observe, Toothless began circling as he took stock of the island below. He could see now that there were additional black specks faintly moving around, many more than he anticipated. Ash had said that each Night Fury colony housed a thousand dragons at most, but in Aylan’s thick woods the population was spread out and difficult to observe. Seregon, however, clearly had hundreds of Night Furies in full view. Dwindling, perhaps—as Ash and the elders said—but clearly a force to be reckoned with: a sizable colony of warlike Night Furies that would sooner shoot him than sit down to talk. Perhaps it would be in his best interest if he did attempt to find Talon, as that was likely the best route to Angalon. Stubborn Night Furies indeed, to choose this blasted ruin apart from all other islands to make a nest.

A faint whistle began to reach his ears, slowly building in intensity; not from below, but from the clouds themselves. Oh, hell…

Twisting his body sharply towards the sound, Toothless was able to pull his wings up just in time to avoid a streak of plasma that flew mere inches from his chest; he could feel the heat of the blast against his scales, but the flames did not graze him. Reacting on instinct alone, Toothless fired back in the direction it came from while simultaneously thrusting his wings down to stay afloat in the air. His blast vanished into the clouds, striking nothing, but in the light of the flame Toothless could make out 5 or six silhouettes racing towards him. The Alpha picked up speed and turned to flee, curving and spinning his way through the air to avoid the plethora of plasma blasts that now began lighting up the clouds. 

If he could make it far enough across Seregon, diving back to ocean level, perhaps he could try entering the island from below; Toothless could almost laugh at his own optimism now that his cover was completely blown, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

Assuming, of course, that he didn’t get shot out of the sky.

He raced through the clouds, occasionally lowering his head to fire warning shots at his pursuers, who—judging from the increased number of explosions around him—were steadily increasing in number. Not only that, but despite his strength Toothless was sure that by the rush of their wings his assailants were gaining on him, or at least maintaining distance. Effortlessly rotating in the air to perform a corkscrew, Toothless could now see that he was well past the edge of the island. Well, here goes nothing… 

He dove, additional shots sailing above him as the wind rushed past his ears. The Night Fury broke through the clouds with breathtaking speed, quickly followed by at least a dozen others in hot pursuit.  The whistle of the air built into a howling wind as Toothless streaked like a bullet at the fast-approaching sea, his speed already taking him past the highest peaks of Seregon. To his luck, it appeared that there were breaks in the rock at ocean level that he could slip into. In three, two, one…

Cutting it as close as he physically could, the Alpha pulled himself up moments before crashing into the sea, making a break into the twisting caves that opened into Seregon’s depths. Toothless could still hear the sound of multiple sets of wings filling with air as his pursuers attempted to avoid slamming into the water; one apparently pulled up too late as a thundering splash resounded at the mouth of the cave. Still, as the Night Fury attempted to navigate his way through the darkening rocks the explosions resumed with equal intensity. The tunnels seemed to delve endlessly as the sunlight quickly began to fade, and Toothless realized this might not have been the best strategy after all. Quickly diving around another outcropping of rocks, the Alpha pulled up so that he didn’t crash into a blank wall of stone; he was in a large cave, but the tunnel ended here Damn it!

Shaking his head in exasperation, Toothless landed on the ground furthest from the tunnel, with his back to the wall. Thankfully, the entrance was not very wide. Hearing the sound of wings quickly approaching, a fully charged blast of plasma left his jaws and sailed into the tunnel. In the fiery light Toothless could quickly make out one Night Fury with orange eyes rounding the corner before the ball of flame made contact with his face. Smoke, then howls of anger as the sounds of multiple pairs of wings screeching to a halt filled the air. A couple more Night Furies attempted to peer into the cave to shoot, all met by Toothless’s fire; strangely, the stone of these caves did not crumble, although splinters shot from the walls where fire blasts struck them. At least the ceiling won’t cave in, Toothless thought soberly; he was going to have to either talk or fight his way out, or both. Dodging a stray blast that sailed past his head, the Alpha responded with another blast before attempting to negotiate.

“WAIT! Stop firing, I came to talk!” he shouted towards the tunnel.

Surprisingly, his attackers did not attempt to enter; a gruff voice called back, hard as the rocks it echoed off of. “No outsider comes to Seregon to talk! If you want, you can talk while we carve you into shreds!”

A shadow attempted to round the corner, to be met with another plasma blast from Toothless. “Are you sure about that?!” Toothless taunted. “Some of you seem to be a little afraid of fire, so forgive me if I’m not quivering in fear!”

Another voice called out, softer but no less filled with anger; “You fly and fight well, but you are not one of us! Tell us where you hail from, if you wish to talk so much?!”

Okay, maybe we’re getting somewhere. “I am an outsider to Mystholm, I come from a land far to the north! I want to speak to your colony leader!” 

Silence, then bouts of laughter from multiple dragons. “Angalon does not talk to outsiders, and outsiders don’t live long enough to talk to Angalon! We’ve heard enough, come out and die quickly!” 

The charging whistle of multiple dragons filled the tunnel entrance, and Toothless braced himself for a fight.

“What is happening here?!” A new voice cut through the noise; a new Night Fury had joined the party outside, one that clearly commanded authority.

“An outsider, attempting to breach our island my lord!” came the response. “We were just about to deal with—”

“Wait!” Toothless interrupted. “If there is one with authority among you, then I will issue a challenge! I was told you were proud dragons, or was that a compliment you don’t deserve?!”

Growls and gnashing of teeth followed his insult. “We will ignore that insult if you have the teeth to back it up! Name your challenge, outsider!”

Thinking quickly, the Night Fury responded. “I challenge your leader to a wrestling match; no flames, no claws, strength only! If I knock them on their back, you let me live and you take me to Anaglon!”

His challenge was met with more laughter. “As if he has ever been bested before!” someone yelled back.

The newcomer's voice rang out; “Fine, I accept the terms! No one will interrupt our match. But if you lose, then my warriors will make short work of you.”

Toothless took a deep breath. Sorry, Ash.

“Fair enough! Come on in, if you’re feeling brave!”

Multiple Night Furies slunk into the cave, each one large and well-built; several had small cuts and burns, and their eyes regarded Toothless with utter contempt. As they surrounded the Alpha, he noticed the orange-eyed one he had shot was also among them; he bled lightly from the mouth, one tooth clearly missing, but if he was in any pain he refused to show it. The dragons of Seregon were all heavily scarred, with tattered wings and scratched spines that bore the wear of many flights and battles. They made no move against him, positioning themselves against the walls of the cave to allow for as much room in the center as possible. Growling like a pack of starved wolves, they jeered at Toothless, anticipating the thrill of a fight. Toothless concealed any trace of nervousness in his expression, but it was clear that he was among experienced warriors; it was too late to talk now. 

“So? Which one of you am I wrestling for my freedom?” Toothless questioned lightly, assuming a combative stance.

“That would be me,” a voice answered from the tunnel.

Another Night Fury entered the cave, his entrance causing the pack of Night Furies to become silent. Bright ruby-red eyes shone in the dark as the dragon entered the circle; although very thin he was equal in size to Toothless, his body—with the exception of his wings—littered with scars. The surrounding Night Furies began cheering and shrieking, clearly expecting a show from their popular leader. Unlike the hateful expressions on the hunters, the red-eyed dragon smiled and nodded as he sized up Toothless.

“I must admit, I’m impressed.” the Night Fury spoke, sheathing his claws. “Few make it this far from outside. But you tried to sneak in, and rules are rules.” He crouched down, like a predator eagerly awaiting the chance to spill blood. “First one on their back, then.”

Toothless stared hard, his heart pounding in his ears. “Your move.”

His opponent moved so fast that Toothless almost failed to react in time, moving his head just ahead of the jaws which attempted to lock around his neck. They locked wings and limbs, each attempting to throw the other back as they strained on their hind legs. Despite his emaciated appearance, the Night Fury was absurdly strong, and Toothless could already feel his back legs slipping against the rock. He pushed upward, attempting to dive directly for the lower body of his adversary. 

A paw made contact with his forehead as his opponent swatted him with such force that Toothless’s head snapped to the side, tasting blood in his mouth. His vision blurred for a moment, allowing the ruby-eyed Night Fury to climb on top of him, his tail wrapping around the Alpha’s neck. But before it tightened, Toothless seized a wing joint in his jaws, preventing the dragon from pushing him on his back. Though he himself struggled for breath, his opponent could not move his wing without breaking it. They stood tangled together, each waiting for the other to relent; Toothless held on to the joint with all his strength, his eyes beginning to darken as he ran out of air.

The tail relaxed, and Toothless instinctively opened his mouth. The other Night Fury jumped back, rotating his wing to assure himself that it wasn’t broken. Barely managing to settle his breathing, Toothless grunted as his opponent slammed into him with enough force to lift him off his front paws. He staggered backwards; bystander Night Furies scrambled to get out of the way as the Alpha’s back crashed hard against the wall of the cave. The other Night Fury’s forehead was pressed against own, both dragons straining to throw the other one down. Their eyes were locked in each other’s gaze, emerald green reflecting against ruby red. Struggling to free himself from the wings pressing him up against the wall, Toothless slammed his tail into the stomach of his adversary. 

The Night Fury did not move, but the winding impact forced him to draw breath; strangely, Toothless saw a flicker of movement in the narrow slits of his rival’s eyes, as though he suddenly came to a realization. His tail shifted—perhaps to return the blow—and Toothless saw that his legs were unprotected. 

That’s it! As he continued to keep himself upright, Toothless carefully maneuvered his tail as fast as he could, snaking it inbetween the Night Fury’s hind legs in a figure eight. As soon as he made it all the way through, he pulled his tail tight and drew the legs together. His opponent looked down, growling; no doubt he was strong enough to pull free. But the distraction was enough for Toothless, who jumped up, planted his hind legs against the wall, and shoved with all his might. The two dragons teetered for a second before the off-balance Night Fury fell back with Toothless wrapped around him. 

As his opponent slammed onto the ground, the Alpha hissed as hot pain flashed through the middle of his tail. But it was worth it. Toothless pressed a paw onto his enemy’s throat, savoring victory. 

“Looks like I win.” he panted. 

A whistle from behind him caused Toothless to turn—stepping off his adversary—to see the orange-eyed Night Fury charging up a blast. Well so much for rules…

The plasma blast flew past Toothless’s head before he even knew it was there, slamming into the already injured Night Fury’s face. The shock wave sent the dragon’s head into the wall, where he slumped and did not move. 

Turning in shock, Toothless beheld his opponent still on the ground, his mouth smoking. The surrounding Night Furies, who up until this point had been making a commotion during the bout, were completely silent.

“No one interrupts a challenge. No one.” 

Rising to his feet, the defeated dragon lowered his head, looking at Toothless. “You have proven yourself to be strong. As such, I will honor your request.”

“But my lord!” an onlooker interjected. “He is still an outsider! You cannot bring him before lord Angalon!”

Snarling, the ruby-eyed dragon rounded on his subordinate. “And why are you speaking to me as though I asked for your advice?! I will bring him to speak to Angalon because that was the terms of the match, and I will honor it. Get this wretch out of here, I will guide our guest myself.” he commanded, motioning to the unconscious Night Fury.

The other Night Furies surrounding them lowered their heads. “As you wish, Lord Talon.”

Talon?! 

As the Seregon Night Furies tended to their assaulted comrade, Toothless felt something prod his shoulder. He turned, eyeing the dragon he had just supposedly defeated. 

“You should take care of that cut.” Talon stated, motioning his tail towards the ground.

Toothless looked down; he hadn’t even registered that the middle of his tail was bleeding profusely, cut open by becoming intertwined with the metal of his fin. Before he knew it, Talon lowered his head and gently began cauterizing the wound with a minor stream of flame. The Alpha gritted his teeth; it stung, but the cut was not terribly deep.

“That should take care of it. Come, outsider.” Talon turned to leave. “If you are so eager to meet my father, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

The pair was silent as they walked out of the cave, Talon taking a different winding path than the one Toothless had swept in on. As he followed, doubt gnawed at Toothless despite having narrowly escaped disaster. His head still hurt terribly, and yet he had won. Right?

“Did you let me win?” The question left his mouth almost as soon as he thought it.

Talon turned his head as he walked, ruby orbs gleaming in the darkness. “Whatever gives you that impression?”

Toothless was stone-faced. “Don’t bullshit me. You lifted me up like a ragdoll and my head’s still swimming. I was just forestalling the inevitable… until you left your legs open, which I’m beginning to doubt was an accident.”

Talon chuckled. “So you are clever as well as strong. I’ll admit, maybe I wasn’t trying as hard as I could have… Call it curiosity, if you will.”

 “What, so you lost on purpose because you were curious about me?” Toothless questioned sarcastically.

Talon stopped, looking around until he was sure no other Night Furies were close. “What do you smell on me?”

Toothless blinked, taken aback by the question; leaning in to inhale, the dragon answered. “Blood, ash, something earthy I guess? Why?”

“That's what pretty much all of us on Seregon smell like. Rocks, blood and volcanic ash.” Talon replied, pointing an accusatory wing at him. “But you, who claim to hail from the far north, you smell like rich forests, flowers, the ocean salt… and another Night Fury. You came from Aylan didn’t you?”

Toothless stared blankly. “I don’t—”

“Is Ash well?”

At that question the Alpha could not conceal his shock. “Wait, how did you… She said you met years ago!”

Talon grinned, his eyes gleaming intelligently. “So it is her; I never forget a scent. Don’t worry, I somewhat believe you; I’d imagine a tail like that doesn’t come from anywhere close by. But I’m only going to ask once. Why are you here?”

Toothless felt both lucky and distressed at the same time. Here was a Night Fury that could likely break him on a battlefield, and boasted a keen mind; but he also happened to be the one dragon on Seregon who might listen to him.

“Fine, you're right. I came from Aylan, although I don’t actually live there. My name’s Toothless, I come from a place called Berk. I’m friends with Ash.”

Satisfied, Talon jerked his head, motioning to follow as he resumed his path through the tunnels. 

As Toothless caught up alongside, he spoke again; “And why would an outsider come to Seregon after experiencing Aylan? Certainly not for the hospitality, as I’m sure Ash has told you.”

“I didn’t come to explore, I came to ask for help. A human fleet may descend on these islands soon, and we need all Night Furies to stand against it.”

The Seregon dragon did not look at him. “So you and Ash believe these rumors as well. And I thought our spies had brought back mere gossip. So you came to ask Angalon for our help fighting off this mystery fleet .” 

“Well if you already knew about it, surely you see the danger?” Toothless said bitterly.

Talon chuckled, perceiving his distaste. “Does the thought of spies trouble you? I’ll admit, it's not something that I enjoy ordering, but it’s my father’s command. There are worse enemies than humans, after all.”

Toothless glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Believe me, we don’t send spies to Aylan to survey the Night Furies; we know well enough that they aren’t warriors. But…” Talon turned his head, making eye contact with the Alpha. “We are not foolish enough to think that they couldn’t perform sorcery against us.” 

“You mean the dragonstone.” Toothless muttered. “I’ll admit, I don’t like the thought of it either. But Ash and the others assured me that it can’t be used that way!”

Talon laughed sharply, his fake mirth echoing through the caves. “Used? The stones are not mere tools to be wielded. Their very existence is an affront to the world itself. And the Night Furies of Aylan have kept this witchcraft for themselves, letting it enrich their island instead of living like true dragons do, off the natural wild.”

“You’re people haven't had a problem killing your own kind to get rid of it, as I recall.” Toothless snapped. 

Talon snarled briefly, but did not break from walking as he calmed himself. “I will not pretend that our way of life isn’t barbaric to some, but we cannot accept their sacrilege! To live by any means beyond your own strength is not the way of a Night Fury! And I know how they ridicule us, calling us savage for maintaining the ways of our ancestors. But what are we without our traditions, without our home? Uncounted generations of my family have called Seregon theirs, and I will not abandon it on account of other Night Furies who live off of magic.”

The two resumed silence for a moment; Toothless noticed the light of the tunnels was getting brighter. I wonder where this path will end up on the surface? He thought. 

“Look, the stone unsettles me too, but don’t you think that unity might be worth the price of having it around? I mean, it hasn’t done any harm as far as I know.” Toothless asked again.

Talon stopped again, this time leaning back against the tunnel wall. “But it could, and has. Let me ask you, Toothless; what did the elders of Aylan tell you about how the Cataclysm started?”

Toothless sat down, slightly surprised by the question. “How it started? Well… They told me a Night Fury called Runar stole a dragonstone from prince Nightshade, and corrupted it. That he used it to wage war on the world.”

Talon’s pupils narrowed, the dragon seething with anger. “Then they persist in the lie! Runar was many things, but evil was not one of them. They left out the part that Nightshade was not the only one who interacted with the dragonstones; he let his brother and friends study them also. Runar helped him teach Nancarin about the world… He was my father’s cousin once. This island has been their family’s just as long as Nightshade’s ancestors have been kings!” 

Talon gritted his teeth, leaning forward. “My brothers and sisters condemn all that Runar did, but we know the truth. Nancarin consumed him, in mind and body. The stones are evil — problematic at best and demonic at worst!”

Now Toothless was irritated. “You’re saying the dragons of Aylan lied to me?” he spat.

Talon’s eyes lessened in anger. When he spoke again he was more calm, but still forceful. “I think the details have been lost in conflict over the decades, but the base truth remains the same. Seregon lives the way Night Furies are meant to; by the claw and the flame, as all dragons have for thousands of years. They may call us barbaric and bloodthirsty, but we will not accept witchcraft in the hands or ordinary dragons.” 

He lowered his head. “Don’t take my tone as disregard for your quest. I understand that if humans invaded, it would bring great slaughter to all. And I’m not saying unity would be so terrible; on the contrary, it would solve a great deal of problems. But I also am honor-bound to my father, and to my island. I will take no action against him while he rules. However…”

Toothless cocked his head. “What are you thinking?”

“I’ll be frank; even though you have proven your strength against one of your own, my father could still kill you the moment he hears something he doesn’t like. But if I told him of your need, he might be more susceptible.”

“And how do I know you’ll even bother, or tell him truthfully what I’ve said?” Toothless questioned accusatory. 

A short laugh escaped Talon. “That is fair enough. But you did best me in a match, after all. And though you don’t know me well, I consider myself a dragon of honor. I did save your life, after all. And Ash seems to trust you a great deal… Do you trust me?”

Toothless hesitated. He would be putting a great deal of faith in a dragon he just met, but it was better than no dialogue at all… or not even making it back to Ash at all. 

“Fine. You talk to Angalon, try to convince him of our need. Even a few warriors to help would be better than nothing. And we will be more than even; I will be in your debt.” 

He stood, staring directly into Talon’s eyes. “I’m not from here, I don’t know all your stories or your troubles. I’m doing this because Ash has faith in me, and that means a great deal. I’m not asking you to renounce your way of life, but I’m sure its been a long time since someone put the needs of all Night Furies first.”

Talon’s face was devoid of expression, but silently he nodded. 

“I make no promises, but if the humans mean to wipe us out… Then it is worth even a little effort. Tell me everything you want me to share, and then I will guide you on your way.”

An hour later…

The cracked earth of Seregon was bathed in sunlight as the afternoon clouds finally broke, the whole of the island covered in warm rays of sun, and yet the light only served to expose the harshness of the land. Amidst the craggy outcroppings multiple hunting parties of Night Furies were returning with spoils of the sea: the only sustenance for several miles, as no life was able to thrive on the barren earth that could not fly. Not only fish, but large Ormr as well were being cut and dissected amongst the rock, the empty ground littered with blood as the dragons of Seregon divided the food amongst themselves. They shared every scrap amongst themselves — those who could not fend for themselves did not eat… yet they all could, and therefore all shared.

The scent of death hung over the air as Talon made his way through the rock, Night Furies of every age and body lowering their heads as he passed. He spoke no words as he made it to his destination; a closed tunnel of obsidian rock, yet light could be seen in the chamber beyond it. The entrance was flanked by over a dozen scarred Night Furies, but they too paid him no mind beyond recognition of his presence.

The large grotto of rock was complete obsidian, the walls high-reaching and chipped by centuries of wear, and yet the sky was completely visible. And in the center of the grotto lay a full-grown Ormr, almost 15 feet long, its blank eyes motionless as the serpentine beast bled from various wounds. A dark claw was in the process of carving from head to tail, opening up the serpent like an experienced fisherman filleting his catch.  An ancient Night Fury meticulously peeled the flesh from his prey, his tattered wings like dark curtains that were but mere traces against the obsidian wall. Sharp teeth—though splintered and weathered—tore sharply into the organs. Angalon was twice the size of Talon, with twice the scars, and yet the old drake’s red eyes were the mirror image of his offspring.

“Father… Enjoying the fruits of the hunt I see?”

The ancient dragon looked up; his eyes were piercing, the scars from long claws tracing over both eyelids framing his fiery gaze. But he only looked to acknowledge his son’s presence, before returning to his work.

“The younger Night Furies hunt in packs; a smart choice, less likelihood of getting poisoned.” Angalon’s voice was dark and brittle. “But I still have strength to follow the old ways. Ask for no help with that which you can take yourself, as my father said.”

Talon stepped forward, his eyes glancing over the dead Ormr. “Father, I have interesting news. I recently spoke… with an outsider.”

Angalon paused amid a mouthful of flesh, casting a withering glare at his son. “Oh? And how did you find yourself in a position to ‘speak’ with them? Especially when outsiders should be met with fire.”

Taking a deep breath, Talon continued. “He was cornered by our sky watch, but he wished to speak with our leader. I faced him in a wrestling match on the condition that if he won, I would hear what he had to say.”

“And you lost to him.” 

Talon flinched, the words cutting through the air like claws. Angalon regarded him with an expression of stone. “So tell me, my son, what was it that this outsider so desperately wanted to say?”

As his father ate, Talon spoke. “The Night Furies of Aylan fear an invasion by dragon hunters. There are some there that seek to unite to face the—”

A horrendous tear of flesh filled the air as the entire skeleton of the Ormr was torn from its body, Angalon throwing it to the side with his jaws as one disposing of garbage. Talon reflexively shut both mouth and eyes as blood flaked across his scales. 

Then his father growled; “So, the peace-lovers finally realize how vulnerable they are, and they turn to the so-called ‘savages’ for help. The weak always ridicule the strong until the wolves come growling.”

“Father,” Talon uttered. “If the fleet is as large as rumored, would it not be something to consider? Eggs are fewer every year, and our numbers dwindle.”

“If that is the case, it is because Aylan has deemed us too savage to grace their presence!” Angalon roared. “What crime do we commit but to preserve our island— our home —and our way of life, while those weaklings live richly off of dragonstone magic? They lack the spine to live anywhere but their paradise, and they look down on others for fearing its source. And now, when the Watchers bring chaos to our door, they cry unity!” 

Talon shrunk in the shadow of his father, who had ceased to feed and now towered over the younger dragon. “I will not condone possession of the very objects that tore our race asunder! Only Nightshade ever controlled them—barely—and he is long dead. Until they give it up, I will not risk my people for any others, no matter how rich the fruit may be.’’

“Even now, you still foresee another Cataclysm.” Talon muttered.

“Because I am no fool, boy. I fully acknowledge the fickleness of mortal hearts, the desires of both man and dragon that we pretend to keep dormant… until power presents itself. Aylan may think itself noble and peaceful, but the very presence of Kemenar invites conflict . Maybe not now, maybe years from now, but the ambitious and the greedy always come.”

Talon lowered his head. “There are still some who understand the danger, who’ve taught their young better.”

Angalon remained unmoved. “You mean Aylan’s elders? Perhaps, but they will not be around forever, and they have given up their own authority to serve as guides rather than leaders.”

Ruby eyes flashed with hatred. “And I have not forgiven them for perverting the memory of Runar; I fought against him all the same, but he was no demon in the beginning, a fact they have conveniently forgotten.” 

The great dragon turned away, dismissive.

But Talon did not relent. “Father, something must be done. What if this is a chance for us to demand respect from them? Perhaps even negotiate?”

Angalon did not turn around, but his tone softened slightly. “Even with all your strength, still you wish to talk before you fight. You sound like your mother…”

The young dragon lowered his voice. “Would she not have sought unity?”

His father finally turned around; a trace of a smile crossed his draconic features, and yet his eyes remained wrathful. “Yes, you are right. But even she feared the stones more than I; Nancarin’s magic killed much of her family personally, as you know.” 

Angalon approached Talon slowly, his claws still dripping. “But I see that you yourself desire to help, even if I forbid it.”

Talon looked up. “Father, I would not disobey you.”

“I know — but you would still regret it.” 

The clan leader drew himself to his full height. “I will not commit all our strength, but you my son shall do this. Recall all our spies on Aylan, and replace them with yourself and a small number of your most trusted warriors. Report to me if any human activity is spotted. And if it comes to war, you will be in a position to negotiate for us and garner respect from those forest-dwellers.”

“Yes, father.”

The ancient dragon draped one tattered wing over Talon’s back. “I do this for your hopes, not for mine. But make no mistake; if Aylan wants us to fight, there will be a price.”

Identical ruby eyes made contact. “And what might that be?” Talon asked.

Bloodied teeth leaned close to his ear, as Angalon whispered.

“That we drown every human in the sea, and the dragonstone with them. Unless, of course, any of our warriors desire the taste of human. We have mouths to feed, after all.”

Talon smiled, the thought of oncoming battle gnawing at him as he joined his father in devouring the Ormr.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Watcher of Night

Ash landed softly on the dark beach, the gravel mixed with ash crunching under the weight of her paws as she looked back. Even from here, she could still make out the dark speck that was Toothless flying away, the lone dragon in an empty grey sky. A surge of both gratitude and regret welled within her; she realized that this was the first time in several weeks that her newfound friend—or maybe, more than a mere friend—would not be with her. Please, if anything should happen to him…  

She shook her head, dispelling her doubts as she turned to face the towering shadow of Nightmare’s Eyrie. The mountain was much more active than usual, dark clouds billowing from the blasted hole at its summit, while a steady glow of amber could be seen flashing as thin streams of magma slowly dripped down. Although the thought of an eruption made Ash slightly nervous, such a thing had not happened in her lifetime, perhaps not in decades. The threat from the ground, however, was not as predictable. The dark forest was shrouded in ashen clouds, the glow of mushrooms and other vegetation the only source of light through the tall canopy of trees. 

The young female began to walk through the ancient woods; Ash had never been to the Eyrie and therefore didn’t want to risk flying through this fog, especially if she wanted to encounter a Watcher. The island was deathly silent, not a trace of movement reaching her ears. And yet, judging by the prevalence of plant life and the appearance of some abandoned nests, there were indeed animals present for Night Furies to hunt. But something about this place seemed… wrong. The shadow of the mountain brought neither comfort nor security, the haze of ash almost drawing any feeling of warmth or happiness from the air. 

What kind of Night Fury would choose to live in this place, apart from those who had forsaken all thought of comfort? Although Ash—like many young dragons of Aylan—had mixed feelings about the Watchers, she could not help but feel sadness at the thought of their chosen calling. Such an eerie and disquieting place to return to, after one travels to free dragons from the oppression of others. Ash wondered; who would even wish to be a Watcher in such a place?

The minutes continued to slip by, and Ash was beginning to grow frustrated. The forest was thick and looked the same from every angle, and she had come across no evidence of any Night Furies. Truth be told, she wasn’t even sure what time it was or where she was going; Toothless could have made it to Seregon by now. Perhaps searching on foot wasn’t such a good idea, but if she took to the air the Watchers could definitely notice her. However long it took, Ash couldn’t let them slip away. The only sound other than the brush of grass under her paws was the rumbling of the mountain above, not unlike a growing storm far in the distance. 

As she rounded another thick tree, something snagged her attention; a strange stone was dimly illuminated by the glow of nearby mushrooms, and yet no other rocks were nearby. That’s strange… 

Upon approaching the object, Ash realized that this could not be a natural part of the forest; the stone was black obsidian, sharply cut into a tall pillar and crowned by a triangular top. The red glow of nearby mushrooms shined across its surface, and Ash could clearly see her own reflection. Strange runes were etched into the otherwise smooth face, almost by an unsteady or inexperienced hand; the runes were crooked and in differing depths. 

ᚺᛖᚱᛖ ᛊᛏᚨᚾᛞᛊ ᚦᛖ ᛖᛁᚱᛁᛖ ᛟᚠ ᚾᛁᚷᚺᛏ ᚨᛊ ᚾᚨᛗᛖᛞ ᛒᛁ ᛗᛁ ᚠᛟᚱᛖᚠᚨᚦᛖᚱᛊ - ᚾᛁᚷᚺᛏᛊᚺᚨᛞᛖ ᛊᛟᚾ ᛟᚠ ᛊᚲᛁᚲᛚᛁᛗᛒᛖᚱ

Could it be a marker, or even a gravesite? Ash cursed in her head; she didn’t know anything about human customs. She briefly wondered if Toothless had been around humans long enough to know how to read, or at the very least if he knew what this could be. They were the only species that could write, after all. Right?

“You don’t belong here.”

Ash jumped, whipping around in the direction of the voice. There was nothing, only the echo of the mountain. 

“Who’s there?!” she cried out, baring her teeth.

A groan of bent wood sounded behind her ears. Ash turned to see a dark shape—a Night Fury, but clouded in smoke—perched heavily on a tree branch some ways above her. She could not make out its features, but could swear that the two hazy points in the fog were green eyes.

“Are you a Watcher?” Ash asked, her voice breaking despite her attempt to compose herself.

“I’ll say it again. You don’t belong here, child.” a female voice replied, as the shadow began to unfurl its wings.

“Wait! Please don’t go! I… I wish to join.” Ash lied. Please work…

Rather than take off, the shadow leapt to the ground. The female Night Fury was now clearly visible as she glared hard at Ash with emerald green eyes. 

The Watcher looked like any other normal Night Fury, almost; four lines of red paint—no, blood, most likely—were traced from one ear down across her face. Ash did not back away, despite her growing fear. How many others were nearby, if she could not even detect one?

“Think hard, this is no joking matter. To say you wish to join the Watchers is not something that you can just renege later on, on pain of death. Are you prepared to join a new family, to depart your old one in search of purpose?”

“I am.” The words rolled off her tongue as sincerely as Ash could sound, and yet for the first time she began to doubt the necessity of her task. This had better be worth it .

The Watcher looked her up and down, before turning around and unfurling her wings. “Come, the Lady of the Watch will wish to speak with you. Stay close or you will get lost.”

The who? 

Before she could ask, the Watcher had already leapt into the air. Ash quickly followed as they sailed through the shrouded woods, although she could still barely make out anything other than the Night Fury mere feet in front of her. Lady of the Watch? Moonlight had never mentioned such a thing—perhaps another deeply kept secret—but Ash supposed it was somewhat of a blessing. At least there was someone in charge, if she could manage to convince her of the human threat without being killed for lying about joining the Watchers. 

Even as they flew, Ash still saw no signs of other Night Furies in the fog. But the rumbling of the Eyrie was getting louder, and Ash realized that they were slowly gaining altitude. Suddenly, the Watcher pulled up sharply as the very face of the mountain itself emerged from the haze. Ash followed suit, landing next to her guide. They were perched at the mouth of a dark tunnel that led directly into the mountain. Ash looked behind her; the ground was no longer visible, but the sloping earth looked climbable so they could not be that high up. 

“Come.” The command brought Ash’s attention back forward, as the Watcher beckoned into the darkness. “She is waiting.”

As they went into the mountain, Ash’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and the tunnel was devoid of any smoke. The rock itself began to give way to flecks of volcanic glass as they walked, and eventually became pure walls of obsidian. A dim light began to emerge at the end of the tunnel, and as Ash followed the Watcher in, she drew a sharp breath. They stood at the mouth of a deep obsidian cave, the walls chipped, and yet the ceiling glittered with what appeared to be subterranean algae mixed with gemstones. The cave sparkled as though it was alive, aqua colors dancing across the dark rock. On the far side of the cave stood a Night Fury, significantly larger than Ash, looking at something on the far wall that she could not make out.

“My lady,” the Watcher announced. “I have found a new recruit. She has stated her intent to join.”

The Night Fury turned, and Ash’s eyes widened. 

She was beautiful; not a trace of wear or damage was upon her scales, her body well-toned yet sleek.  Bright amber eyes shone in the light, their gleam adding to the already rich reflections. Her gaze was soft, and yet… ageless, as though her irises contained the thought and wisdom of many years. Ash knew where she had seen such eyes before; they weren’t unlike the eyes of the elders after centuries of life, but this female appeared no older than 100.

“Thank you, Iris, you may leave us.” the dragon spoke, her voice bright and cheerful, yet authoritative.

The Watcher left, and Ash was along with the Lady of the Watch. 

Motioning Ash to come closer, she spoke; “It’s been some time since a Night Fury so young desired to join us. Tell me your name.”

“It's Ash… my lady.” Ash replied nervously, making eye contact with the larger female. “I’m from Aylan. I want to join the Watchers.”

The Lady gave Ash a long look, before turning back to the wall. “Is that still true?”

Ash blinked. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Those who wish to join the Watchers understand that once the declaration is made, and you are brought to the Eyrie, then there is no turning back. You knew that… and you lied anyway.”

Oh, shit. A shiver ran down Ash’s spine; for a moment, she considered fleeing immediately. 

But when the Lady of the Watchers turned around again, her expression remained gentle and warm. “Don’t be frightened, I sent Iris away so that you could speak freely. Come dear, tell me what you wanted to share, since you came all this way.”

“I’m not sure I want to now,” Ash admitted. “Not until you tell me how you know that so confidently!”

The Lady laughed. “Fair enough, although you are the only Night Fury to even attempt coming here who hasn’t wanted to join the Watchers in many years. I promise to reveal all in good time, but since you attempted to deceive us I think I deserve to know the reason first, don’t you?”

Ash stifled a retort; she had a point. “Ok, fine. I didn’t lie about my name though, it is actually Ash and I am from Aylan. I came here… well honestly, it's because your Watchers may have brought hell down on us!”

“How so?”

“Well, did you do it?!” Ash questioned. “Did you all torch a giant human city, with no thought of if they might come after us?!”

The Lady stood, walking around Ash as she contemplated her words. “I think you may be minimizing the good that came from it. There were many enslaved dragons in that port, dragons that now fly free because of us. Did they not deserve to be free?”

“I didn’t say that!” Ash cried out. “Of course they did! But if the humans come to hunt you down, they won’t find you will they? They’ll find Aylan first!”

A flicker of doubt crossed the female’s features, but her voice was still skeptical. “Perhaps, but humans are rarely so bold. What harm could a few boats do to an island of Night Furies?”

Ash began to grow angry. “A few? What if it's not a few? From what I heard this island was extremely rich and powerful, not that your Watchers thought of that before setting it on fire!” 

“Careful, dear.” The Lady regarded Ash almost like a scolding mother. “I have broken my own rules to hear you out. You have very little proof to be so angry.”

“Why not?!” The stress of months of travel boiled over as Ash’s voice now rose to a shout, her composure all but gone. 

“Most of my island says it's no big deal, the elders call me crazy for worrying even though there’s less than a few thousand of us to fight! And even better; we’re all divided! Seregon won’t help because they hate us, and I wouldn’t even have to worry if your Watchers actually contributed to our race’s survival instead of causing problems across the ocean! Nightshade would’ve never—”

“Excuse me?”

Ash stopped. All trace of warmth in the Lady’s voice was gone, her eyes now filled with wrath, and something deep in Ash’s heart told her to back up a few steps.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Oh, no, do continue. Please, Ash, just what exactly would Nightshade never do?”

Ash was startled by her emphasis. “What?” 

The Lady of the Watch towered over Ash, and the young Night Fury could barely meet the gaze of her eyes; the amber orbs sparkling with hatred as she shouted. 

“You dare come here to place blame on us for your island's divisions, and yet you revere Nightshade of all people! And where would Night Furies be, I wonder, if he hadn’t fled his duties here! All lost loved ones during the Cataclysm, and yet he dared to place his guilt above the needs of his people ! Tell me Ash, if your beloved king didn’t just up and leave after the war was over, would we still be divided?! And if it’s so important to you then why don’t you lead our people?! Why doesn’t anyone?!”

“Why don’t you?!” The scream left her mouth before Ash could stop herself, and in that moment she realized she may have passed the point of no return. 

And yet in her anger the Lady of the Watch seemed struck by her words, visibly recoiling. For a moment the two looked at each other in silence, and Ash realized that behind her majesty the leader of the Watchers was not as aloof as she thought.

“I can’t… I won’t. And maybe that makes me a greater failure than Nightshade.” 

The Night Fury—that only moments ago was the epitome of grace and power—now appeared to Ash completely dejected. 

“I could have taken the throne, you know. Called myself ‘queen’ after he left… But he was gone and so was my family, so what was the point? That’s why I formed the Watchers; we had no families, no friends, and even the remaining Night Furies could not console all that we had lost. But together, we could do something to regain meaning. I suppose, with you here now, it’s proof that it never really made a difference.”

Ash’s anger had faded, to be replaced by a mixture of regret and pity. But something about the Lady’s words—the way she spoke so nostalgically—didn’t make sense. “But the Watchers were formed over a century ago, and you don’t look that… old.” 

A horrible thought had suddenly appeared in the back of her mind. 

“You’re… Holly, aren’t you?” she asked hesitantly, almost not believing her own question.

The older female was silent for a moment… then sighed.

“It’s been a long time since someone’s called me that. Every Watcher that knew my name is dead.”

Ash was in disbelief. “But… you can’t be! That would make you the same age as my elder Moonlight, and you look so young!”

Holly, the Lady of the Watch, regarded her with amusement. “I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I have looked this way for a very long time. At the end of the Cataclysm, when the dragonstone exploded, Nightshade was surrounded by its power. It changed him, warped his body… and he ceased to age.”

Her amber eyes were worlds away. “After all he had suffered, he was going to live forever. He couldn’t bear the thought of watching the world change while he remained untouched, and no hope of meaning could console him. Not even me,” She spat bitterly. 

“I begged him to stay, to rebuild, to make a life with me. But he thought I would be better off growing old with someone who would share my mortality, whose hands were not stained with blood. And he left me. ”

Ash felt like throwing up. “I’m so sorry.”

Holly kept going. “I gave up waiting. I had no one, so I gathered everyone else who shared my pain and formed the Watchers. And as you can see, maybe Nightshade wasn’t so wrong to fear unending life after all.” 

She gestured to herself with her wings. “I didn’t realize I was aging slowly until my original comrades started to pass away. I will not be as long-lived as Nightshade, but another century or two is no blessing. You’re right, Ash. I could have taken responsibility for our race, and I didn’t. And now I see that you—and all the rest of them—are paying a price for it. Maybe so am I, though I doubt that comforts you.”

Silence hung in the air between them; Ash almost couldn’t believe that the Night Fury standing before her not only was equal in age and experience to Moonlight, but was Holly — the queen who never was. Everyone thought she had disappeared and passed away, succumbed to heartbreak… and yet maybe, by forsaking public life in favor of self-exile as a Watcher, she had succumbed after all. Ash saw in her a regal, ancient dragon, and yet a broken spirit at the same time. 

And for the first time, she realized that maybe it no longer mattered why the Watchers had done what they did — only that she asked for their help anyway.

“I don’t know whether or not to be angry with you or to feel sorry,” Ash said, her voice quiet. “I kept asking myself why the Night Furies who survived the Cataclysm couldn’t set aside their differences for the greater good, but now… I don’t know if I could have done it either. You lost everything… Forgive me.”

For the moment, warmth returned to Holly’s expression. She smiled at Ash; “You aren’t wrong. You are young, trying to make sense of a world that was made by the actions of older generations. And you have a pure heart… it's a rare thing.”

Ash took a few steps forward, no longer afraid. “I know I’ve spoken hatefully about the Watchers, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think they serve a purpose. And I’m not asking you to return to our society. But if I could prove that humans were coming, would you help us?”

Holly’s eyes sparkled. “Of course. Our numbers are few, but we will right our wrongs. And I think I know how you can prove it… if it means so much to you.”

“What do you mean?” Ash asked, cocking her head.

“I have led the Watchers for over a century, leading them against any Alpha, dragon, or human that would dare to enslave or oppress others. It was always my dream that a Night Fury kingdom under Nightshade would spread justice and peace, tempering his desire for conquest with thoughtful mercy. But that isn’t their only purpose. I have one thing left to remember him by, one thing that I swore to protect. Look behind you.”

Ash turned, puzzled. The obsidian wall looked like the rest of the cave walls at first glance, except for one small hole — no, not a hole, a rock. A round, perfectly spherical stone was inserted in the rock face. In the rest of the wall the glitter of the ceiling could be seen, and yet the stone reflected nothing; rather, as Ash looked at it, it seemed to only darken, an empty void that provided neither distress nor unease. Nothing at all.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Something brushed against her wing; Ash realized that Holly had come to stand beside her. “This is Herentir. This dragonstone is tied less to the natural world and more to the spiritual. It uses its power to observe, dictate, and understand; I’ve used it to judge the hearts and minds of my enemies, to see who deserves to live and who to die. But make no mistake, Ash. It is as physically dangerous as any other stone, and no less cryptic. It speaks to me alone… but it might show you what you desire.”

Ash shuddered nervously. “Will it show me if there's a fleet?”

“Perhaps, but there's truly no way to tell. The stone showed me your initial deceit, but also your gentleness of heart, so I knew that you were worth speaking to but not why. It will show you that which can most successfully fulfill the needs of your spirit. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you. It’s your decision, child.”

Slowly, Ash stepped forward, coming closer to the dark gem. She gazed intently into its depths, but no change was evident. Ash was just about to turn back when suddenly, almost from nothing, waves of light began to fade out of the center of the void. It was like a dark bead of water struck by sunlight, issuing forth a myriad of colors as the stone came to life. The colors swirled, beginning to take the shape of a dark mass — no, a dragon, with emerald green eyes.

“Toothless!” Ash yelled in joy.

“Who?” Holly asked, amused.

“My friend, a dear friend. He’s helping me… can’t you see him?”

“No dear, this vision is yours alone. Keep looking.”

Ash peered hard, the image of a smiling Toothless already beginning to fade into the mix of color. Other shapes appeared and faded — Moonlight, Aylan’s crescent mountain, Nightmare’s Eyrie, and a few other things she couldn’t make out. But something seemed off about the colors; the bright hues were beginning to fade, to be replaced by reds and earthy colors. The picture deepened, and Ash stared in horror as the shapes molded into a barren wasteland, a crimson sky, and…

“Oh no… Please…”

“What's wrong?!”

“There's… nothing but ash and bone… and bodies, so many bodies… Why is the sky red?!”

“Ash, look away. Now!”

“Waves of amber flame…”

The stone was suddenly no longer in front of Ash, something dark and blurry taking its place. Her eyes hazy, she realized Holly had draped a wing in front of her face; when she brought it down, Herentir was just as dark as it had been when she first looked. 

A wave of nausea overcame her, and Ash suddenly found herself retching forward, the contents of her stomach burning her throat as she vomited on the cave floor. She couldn’t feel her legs, but before she collapsed, Ash felt smooth scales under her head and body. Holly was guiding her gently to the floor.

“Take a deep breath, and close your eyes,” Holly commanded. 

Ash did as she was told, the darkness and air beginning to sooth her nausea.

“You don’t need to tell me what you saw, dear Ash. I know what it was.”

“What?”

Holly did not answer right away, her eyes far off in some distant memory. When she answered, her voice echoed with rage. “The Wastes. That’s what she showed you. I know that battlefield, that blood-red sky… But why?”

Ash remembered Toothless’s reaction to gazing into Aylan’s stone, and hoped to every ancestor she had that she would never have to look into a dragonstone again. 

“I thought it would show me the human fleet… Why did it show me that? I’ve never been there, it's a graveyard.” Her voice quivering, Ash looked up at Holly. “I saw flames too, but they weren’t normal. They were almost ethereal, unreal.”

“Amber flames, that’s what you said. I don’t understand… No, it can’t be…” Holly walked up to the stone, peering hard into its depths. But it must have rebuffed her, for after a few seconds she turned back with a low growl.

“What does it mean?” 

Holly looked at Ash, crestfallen. “I’m only guessing. But when Nightshade left, he went back into the Wastes. ‘The Morian are still rampant,’ he said, vowing to seal every one of their barrows. He took Antaris, the amber stone, and that was the last I saw of him.”

Finding the strength to stand, Ash got up from the floor. “Is the stone still there? Is Nightshade?!”

Holly rushed forward in a panic, wrapping Ash in a wing. 

“You listen to me,” she hissed, “The Wastes are fields of death. Nothing grows there, there's no fresh water, and there are dark things that roam the ash. If Antaris—or gods forbid, Nightshade—is still there, you’ll die before you find them!”

“But what if that's what I need to do?!” Ash nudged off her wing, standing tall. “Why else would it show me that? Maybe that’s the only way for us to defeat the humans is to find them and bring them home!”

“You’ll never make it! Look, I already promised to fight alongside you should the need arise, let that be enough! I can’t allow you to go there!”

Ash looked at Holly defiantly. “I wasn’t asking your permission. If I don’t go, that vision will haunt my dreams forever. I have to at least see — if it's clear I can’t find the stone, then I’ll give up. But I have to try while there's still time left!”

Holly looked at Ash with a mixture of dejection and fury; for a moment, she realized that the Lady of the Watch was more than capable of keeping her here against her will. 

But the elder Night Fury shook her head, then conceded. “I will not force you. But you must understand; you cannot spend more than a day in the Wastes or you will never emerge. Do you understand me?”

Ash nodded. Holly’s eyes betrayed sheer terror… and the young Night Fury realized she was reliving her demons all over again.

But the Lady of the Watch was firm. “Then go. Go with my blessing. Iris is waiting outside, she will guide you through the fog.” Holly stepped back, the tunnel unblocked.

Ash immediately began to race for the exit, but something stopped her. Turning back to look upon the Lady of the Watch, she smiled. “Thank you. I won’t tell anyone a thing, I promise.”

Holly looked at her, her amber eyes warm once more. “You are welcome. But if what you fear comes to pass, such things won’t be so important. Now go, child.”

Ash raced out of the cave, and the elder female was alone. 

Her kind expression began to melt and twist, to be replaced by unrestricted rage. She turned to the wall, the cave glowing brighter as Holly’s spine began to glow blue in fury. But the stone still reflected no light, a circular void on the wall.

“Why?! Why would you show her the Wastes?! Nothing can survive out there!”

No response. Holly looked for any trace of color, but the stone was lifeless.

“You showed me the human city, you showed me her intentions, and now this?! WHAT AREN’T YOU TELLING ME?! SHOW ME!”

Nothing.

The Lady of the Watch slumped to the ground, her forehead pressed against the stone. Dragons could not cry, but her despair was beyond the point of tears. The world would continue to change, and yet again she was alone.

“Oh, my love…” she whispered. “You snake… We are both forsaken. Come home… please…”

“I need you.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: The Wastes

The cold wind stung the still-tender cut that he had received, despite Talon’s burning of his tail; regardless, Toothless was more than capable of regular flight as he streaked away from Seregon. The young dragonlord had discreetly taken him through the tunnels to another entrance at sea level, where thankfully there were no zealous guards of the type he had fought on the way in. But even as he directed himself towards Nightmare’s Eyrie, the Alpha couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed. Sure, Talon seemed trustworthy, but the likelihood of his father completely rebuffing his message was equal. Proud Night Furies, indeed. Toothless hoped Ash had achieved better results than he did; although judging from the steadily growing ring of smoke that now clouded the base of the Eyrie, maybe her choice of colony had been equally difficult to contact.

As Seregon quickly faded behind him, the Alpha thought long and hard about the variety and conflict in Night Fury culture, if that was even the best word to describe it. The idea had not escaped him that if his own race was capable of living as a completely homogenous society—with their separate lifestyles and beliefs—was it not true for other dragons? How many other islands contained separate kingdoms of dragons, perhaps where they first originated from? He would have to make a point of asking some of his friends back on Berk; although the vast majority of them had known mixed nests all their lives, either from the Red Death or the Bewilderbeasts, perhaps someone had been born somewhere else or knew something. It would be an interesting idea to bring to Hiccup, if he could manage to get back in one piece to communicate it to him.

A faint explosion knocked Toothless out of his contemplation, but it hadn’t come from the Eyrie. One of the small islands that littered the ocean in between the main islands—barely an island, more like a desolate rocky platform in the middle of the sea—was emitting small lights into the air, exploding in a ring of purple light. There! Ash had told him that she would wait to meet up halfway, and it looks like she had met with the Watchers before him after all. He sped up, eager to tell her what she had learned. 

As Toothless grew closer, diving for the rocks, he could see that it was her! But something seemed off; Ash’s normally cheerful demeanor was not there, her eyes frantic and anxious. The moment he landed, she rushed to his side.

“There you are! I was getting worried,” Ash frantically stated, nuzzling his neck. “Are you ok? Did you run into… your tail!”

“Don’t worry, it's not deep.” Toothless reassured her, returning her nuzzle. “And Talon sends his regards.”

Despite her initial melancholy, Ash’s expression noticeably brighted at his words. “Oh, thank the stars… So did you convince them?”

“Not exactly, but Talon promised to advocate to his father on our behalf. Even a few Night Furies are better than none.” Toothless admitted. “What’s the matter? You looked worried when I first landed. Did you not find the Watchers?”

Ash looked at him sorrowfully, as though hesitant to answer. “No, I found some alright. And I… how do I explain this…”

“Take your time.”

“Well they at least agreed to help, but their secrecy runs deeper than we thought. You remember that there’s three dragonstones left, right?”

Toothless’s stomach sank. I don’t think I’m gonna like where this goes… “Don’t tell me they’ve got one too.”

“Yup. The obsidian one. And I… may have used it.”

“Wait, what?!” Toothless stuttered. His own experience looking into a dragonstone had haunted his dreams enough, but for Ash to undergo the same… “Are you ok?! Why would you do that?!” 

He realized too late the harshness of his tone, as Ash looked somewhat hurt. Composing himself, he apologized; “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, it's just… Well, what did it do?”

Ash answered slowly, as though not having fully processed the day’s events herself. “I was told that Herentir can show visions, direct you towards your desires or something like that. I thought it would show me the dragon hunter fleet, and I’d finally have proof. And it didn’t.”

Toothless took a moment to respond, his concern mounting. “Are you ok?”

Ash didn’t look at him. 

“I’m going to ask you something. And if you say no, it won’t change how I think of you, but if you say yes know that I could be putting your life at even greater risk.”

Toothless walked around until he was in front of Ash, their eyes locking. 

“Ask away,” he said.

Ash’s voice was shaking, but determined. “If what the stone showed me is true, then there’s a chance we could find the last dragonstone and use it to save all Night Furies. But it was lost in the Wastes, and there’s a incredibly high chance we don’t make it out of there alive if we go look. This isn’t like going to Seregon; the Wastes are more dangerous than anything I can imagine. If I went to look, just for one day and that was it—”

“I’ll come with you.”

Ash stood silently for a moment, then—without a word between them—slowly leaned her head against his chest. “I don’t want to lose you.” she whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Toothless leaned his head down, tucking Ash’s head under his chin. “We do this together. But just one day, and then we make due with what we’ve got.”

“Agreed.” Stepping back, Ash turned to look out to the open sea. “We should start heading south, but I’m a little tired. C’mon, I know an island where we can rest before we head out.” 

Toothless thought he knew the island she was referring to; it was probably comparable to Aylan or Seregon, but had only been a silhouette in the distance and had been out of his way when he first saw it. “I take it it’s uninhabited?” he asked, as they took to the skies.

“Not always,” Ash replied, lazily gliding upside down. “It’s called Dvernoc, the southernmost island in Mystholm. It was lightly inhabited, but after the Cataclysm there weren’t enough Night Furies left to keep it populated, so they all fled elsewhere. It’s a nice island, not very unique compared to the others. But we won’t be bothered there.”

Toothless could already see it approaching on the horizon, as Nightmare’s Eyrie faded fast behind them; it probably wouldn’t even take them an hour to get there. They continued to fly in silence, the cloud-covered sky occasionally breaking to allow beams of sunlight to warm their scales. Ash looked lost in thought, and worry continued to gnaw at Toothless; he trusted and respected her judgement, but his aversion to the dragonstones had given way to abject paranoia. Why of all things would the stone show her the Wastes, the supposed ancient battlefield where Night Furies had been all but destroyed? And what the hell had the Watchers been doing with it all this time? And here they were, off to try and locate the third dragonstone which—if his suspicions were correct—was probably the most dangerous of the three. 

And Ash hadn’t mentioned the reason that the stone was there in the first place — Nightshade had taken it with him.  Everything he’d heard about the Wastes told him they were beyond danger; Toothless didn’t want to confront Ash about it, but finding the stone or its owner had the potential to be just as bad. What does living a century and a half in a wasteland do to an ancient Night Fury if he survives, much less one who went there voluntarily? He shuddered at the thought.

The Alpha did not take much stock in fate or referring to the guidance of gods, definitely not the way that the Vikings did. But a dark thought had begun to grow in Toothless’s mind, the strange sense that the Night Furies on Mystholm were being steered by unseen forces. He was starting to feel as though someone or something was playing a game with them, steering his race towards what end he couldn’t be certain. But if there were godlike influences across this place, whether they were benevolent remained the question. What exactly were the dragonstones, and better yet, what were they hiding? If they were even alive at all. 

Eventually, Toothless vowed, he would confess his fears and reservations to Ash, but not at this moment. Whatever she had seen gave her troubles enough, and entering the Wastes would take more strength of will than his reservations needed a voice. At least for now. As they landed on Dvernoc—a lightly forested island, one that somewhat reminded him of an island he might’ve found with Hiccup for his map—Toothless did his best to keep Ash’s mind off their task, regaling her with more tales of his adventures with the Vikings. To his delight, it did seem to cheer her up for a short while.

Several hours later…

“Ash, am I imagining things, or is the sky turning red?”

“Nope, I see it too.”

Normally Toothless would not have to ask such a question in the evening; after a few hours of rest the pair of Night Furies had begun flying southeast, and the sun was slowly beginning to set. Mystholm had faded away, leaving nothing but the vast ocean behind them. But while the majority of the sky was naturally getting darker, the skies directly in front of them seemed to be remaining a dark shade of crimson. A faint ribbon of land was beginning to emerge, one that stretched the entire length of the horizon. Toothless was at a loss for words; no matter the horrors of this place there was more land emerging before his eyes than he had ever seen, more than he and Hiccup had ever discovered. How many giant land masses such as this one existed? The thought was equally wondrous and terrifying, for as they drew closer Toothless could make out a massive storm that stretched as far as the land; the clouds were a mixture of greys and crimson red, faintly alight as though kept aglow by a sun that clearly was no longer there. Thunder was faint, the occasional streak of red lightning linking earth to sky.

“Oh, my stars…” Ash whispered, as they crossed the shoreline.

The Wastes were endless; great plains of dirt, sand, and rock stretched as far as their eyes could see. And yet there was no sign of life, not a single object of rich color or body of water. The land was lifeless and barren, the occasional dead tree or bush providing only a memory of life upon the great canvas of desolation. Even as they flew, Toothless could not see any sign of any creature, living or dead. At least in this part of the Wastes, it was as though nothing had ever existed here at all. No matter how they flew, the more ground they covered in the air, the result was the same. Nothing but a blasted landscape, the only sign of change being the rumbling, unnaturally red sky above them.

“What kind of evil could corrupt such a place?” he whispered to Ash; Toothless couldn’t explain it, but he hesitated to raise his voice as though something were listening, despite the complete lack of life for miles.

“Moonlight told me that this place was once called Nangren, ‘the land of green’. It was filled with vast plains of grass and great herds of animals, and in some parts of it humans dwelled, living off the land.” Ash replied, scanning the horizon for signs of life. 

“When Runar stole his dragonstone no one knew where he had gone, when in truth he had gone deep into the heart of this land. Even before he revealed himself, there were signs that something was wrong; great flocks of birds would come up from the south, the schools of fish began to change paths, and human ships would occasionally be spotted fleeing north. We thought nothing of it, until we sent scouts who saw the sky begin to change. But by then it was too late.”

“All this from one dragonstone?” Toothless asked.

“Right. All the stones carry great power, but Nancarin was the one most willing to unmake the natural world. Runar used the stone to pervert and alter the living creatures here, no matter what they were, and turned them into the Morian. And the more the stone was used, the darker and greater its abilities became. See how the storm blots out the natural sun, while keeping it dimly lit so Night Furies can’t blend in? Not simply a random aesthetic; it's a device of fear.”

“Hopefully we don’t run into any Morian, if they even still exist.” the Alpha muttered.

Despite the calmness of their flight, Toothless could see Ash visibly shudder. “My mom used to tell me if I didn’t behave, a Morian would snatch me up in the night. I wasn’t really scared… until I asked an elder what they looked like. I don’t think I slept for weeks after that.”

Toothless grimaced; the elder must have held back no details to a hatchling. “Care to describe? Just so I know what to look for.” 

Ash continued talking, giving up on searching for life amongst the never-changing hellscape. 

“Not every Morian is alike, they said. Some have extra arms or wings based on what creature they were ‘grown’ from. But they all resemble tall, emaciated skeletons, the muscles still fused to bone or hanging from the body. Their skin is seared black, their nails filthy and rotten, and whatever teeth they have left are naturally pointed. They have no eyes; only tiny, unnatural white lights that shine like dark spirits in the sockets. The only sure way to kill one is to sever and burn the head, for the rest of the body cannot function without it. But a Morian can still fight without arms, legs; even a hole blasted through their chest will not suffice. They make no sound, require no rest, and their ruined flesh doesn’t decay. They are death incarnate, the inanimate flesh of once-living beings fused together by the arcane.”

By the gods… They truly were in a hellish land, twisted and engineered by a dark entity. The true scope of the Cataclysm was now clearly evident to Toothless. To fight such an enemy—even as Night Furies—would take tens of thousands, and as Moonlight’s story had told, even that wasn’t enough. Only another dragonstone had been enough to halt the slaughter, but the Wastes endured. 

One couldn’t even call that a victory; his race barely survived. 

“Toothless, do you smell that?” Ash looked at him, a look of confusion on her face.

Now that she mentioned it, he did smell something burning, and it was getting stronger. And the back of his throat was beginning to become very dry, almost like the air was becoming hot and stale. “The air’s turning foul. If this keeps getting stronger, we’ll need to find a body of… what's that ahead?”

The land ahead of them was slowly beginning to become more rocky, but as they flew closer Toothless realized that it wasn’t rocks at all. Ash gasped in shock, and his eyes widened in horror. The Wastes continued on for uncountable miles; but while the land up to this point had been bleak and empty, the endless wasteland ahead was littered with corpses. Skeletons of countless races—dragons, humans, and some that were impossible to identify—stretched in an infinite battlefield, melted weapons and torn standards littering the ground along with the dead. 

As they drifted over the graveyard beneath them, it became clear what the smell was; of the incalculable carion on the ground the vast majority of them had been seared by a great heat, their bodies flattened to the earth by some vast eruption of flame. The scent was slowly becoming overwhelming. Toothless glanced around, and an unimaginable sense of dread overtook him.

“Ash, stop.”

“What?” Ash drifted to a halt.

“Look back the way we came, and tell me what you see.”

Ash turned, and beheld the cause of his fear. They hadn’t been flying over bodies for very long, so the empty plains should still be clearly visible. And yet when they looked behind, the Wastes were identical from every direction, the crimson sky covering the field of the dead like a blanket. 

“What, I… I don’t understand! Where did the plains go?!” Ash immediately turned around and raced the way they had come. Toothless followed in hot pursuit, but the plains did not reveal themselves. The air was continuing to become more thick and fiery, not a sound but the rush of their wings and the rolling thunder from above.

“This has to be some kind of trick!” Ash stopped and hovered, beginning to panic.

“This entire place is cursed.” Toothless did his best to remain calm. “C’mon, I’m sure if we keep going this way we’ll snap out of the illusion. We only took one path forward, we couldn't have gone off course.”

Ash didn’t look consoled, her eyes darting around in fear. “We never should’ve come here! What have I done—”

“Hey, hey, HEY! Look at me!” Toothless exclaimed, rushing forward. “We’re making it out of here, you hear me? Let’s keep going back the way we came and I’m sure we’ll at least find empty land.” Cardinal directions can’t change, right?

“Ok…”

They raced forward fast, trusting in their sense of direction. Toothless wasn’t sure how long they had been flying for, but the Wastes only appeared to be getting more corpse-laden. The air was now outright foul, his throat and nostrils burning. His wings were beginning to grow tired, and his eyes hurt. Everything about this place was wrong…

“Toothless, look! Water, down there!” Ash exclaimed, her voice hoarse and scratchy. The air was clearly affecting her too.

He looked, but could see nothing. Sure, there looked to be some shining metal—somewhat clean shields and swords, most likely—but no water.

“Ash, I don't see anything.” he responded, his voice filled with concern.

“Don’t you see?! It’s right there. I’m really thirsty…” Before he could react, Ash had begun to dive towards the ground.

“ASH, WAIT!” Toothless dove, racing after her. This couldn’t be natural; how could her senses be so dulled? Although he didn’t need to look far for an answer, as his own ability to breathe was steadily becoming more difficult. Nonetheless, he put on a burst of speed in an effort to reach her, but Ash’s head start was just enough for her to reach the ground first.

Ash pulled up just above the fallen warriors, the pounding of her wings dispersing the ash and dust below her as she scanned the ground in a daze. But there was no water: only some steel, from human craftsmen long dead.

“What? I could’ve sworn—”

A mangled, blistered hand shot out of the mound of bodies, latching onto Ash’s tail. At once whatever trance had befallen her was broken and she screamed, immediately shooting for the sky. But the hand’s grip did not loosen; as she flew upward the entire body of a blackened corpse came with her, its opposite hand locked around a melted spear. Shreds of decaying fabric adorned the body, the remnants of a human peasant whose name had long since been erased. The creature opened its mouth, but no sound came out. Ash looked down in abject horror into a single pair of white lights, like haunting stars in a void, as the Morian pulled its spear arm back.

A bolt of plasma flew past Ash’s wing and struck the corpse in the shoulder, blowing its spear arm clean off. Toothless watched as the Morian lost its grip, falling to the earth in a pile of bone and metal; as Ash flew back up to his altitude, the Alpha looked back down upon the ground, which was beginning to stir with movement. The amputated Morian slowly picked up a melted axe from the ground—a black, blood-like sludge oozing from the wound—as additional corpses began to stand, shaking off the rubble and bone of the battlefield. Almost a dozen pairs of white lights now gazed upward, and to Toothless’s horror, a few of the Morian began to uncurl small pairs of emaciated wings from their backs.

“Go!” He shouted at Ash, spurring her into flight as the two Night Furies fled.

Toothless gasped as pain shot through his chest, his breathing labored as the endless land around him began to wobble and blur. The air was strangling them somehow, and there were still no empty plains in sight; how could we have been so stupid?! For all they knew some dark spell was keeping them disoriented and confused, and Toothless had no idea how to snap them out of it. Turning his head to see 3 Morian silently flying in pursuit, he aimed another blast of fire for the closest one; this time he squarely struck its head, the bones shattering as it fell to the ground, but upon attempting another shot the two additional Morian effortlessly dodged it. Thankfully they were not particularly fast fliers… but Toothless didn’t know how much longer him and Ash could keep this up.

“Toothless — * wretch * — we need to land… I can barely feel my wings!” Ash cried, her wings flapping at increased speed just to stay up.

There was no way the ground was a better option, but they didn’t have a choice; he could feel his throat closing. Quickly scanning the earth, he saw a rocky outcropping that stood some ways above the ground. 

“C’mon, follow me!” he choked. 

They landed on the outcropping, the force of two dragon’s wings blowing bits of bone and debris from the top. As they landed Toothless felt his legs shake beneath him, but he stayed standing. He stood back to back with Ash, his vision swirling, but amidst the blur he could see increasing pairs of haunting stars emerging out of the red haze. The Night Furies began firing shots at the slowly approaching Morian, who lumbered forward without a care for lost limbs or burning flame; occasionally one would completely lose its head, the emaciated bones collapsing to the ground, but more corpses replaced the fallen. Ever slowly they marched, dark sentries with neither emotion nor instinct guiding their steps, only the task of bloodshed.

Ash attempted to fire another shot, but her flames sputtered and died in her throat. She wretched, vomit spewing from her throat as she wavered on all fours. Toothless caught her as she fell, Ash leaning against his side. He tried to call out, but the words caught in his swollen throat. The Alpha’s head was swimming as he bared his teeth, now standing over his friend as dozens of Morian silently approached. 

Forgive me, Hiccup…

Waves of amber light—or were they flames?—crossed over the Wastes, engulfing a portion of the Morian in bright color. When they dissipated, clouds of ash fell to the ground where armed skeletons had been. Despite his darkening vision, Toothless could make out a silhouette moving amongst the corpses, a large blade flashing amongst the pairs of lights. What looked to be a tall human, their face and body concealed in black covering, was in the process of severing the head of a corpse with a large greatsword. The Morian wielded weapons at an unnatural speed, but the cloaked figure was faster, severing their heads without so much as a scratch. 

A shadow to his left caused the Alpha to turn his head, seeing a Morian with a sword protruding through its ribcage scaling the rock. Without hesitation, Toothless swung his head down and seized the creature's head in his jaws, pulling hard as his paw kept the chest flat against the rock. The head detached from the neck with a sickening pop, and Toothless threw it as far as he could. 

Turning back, his stomach sank as he beheld the headless body still holding another sword. The blade cut deep into his leg, Toothless emitting a wine as he swatted the Morian away with his tail. Despite only being one cut the wound burned hotter than fire, and the world around him began to fold. Toothless took one more glance at the ruined battlefield, the cloaked figure still weaving throughout the walking dead, before his head hit the ground.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: Nightshade

The rumble of storm clouds dragged the Alpha back to consciousness, his body twitching in discomfort as the memories of his last waking moments crashed over him. Toothless roused himself to his feet, frantically spinning to find Ash. 

By all the gods, she laid only a few feet beside him, sleeping peacefully. Breathing a sigh of relief, Toothless regarded himself strangely; not only was the leg that had been slashed no longer bleeding, but the wound was already in the process of healing. And even stranger was the realization that his throat and eyes seemed to be working perfectly normal, his lungs inhaling fresh cool air. Assured of his own survival, the Night Fury took to observing his surroundings.

Him and Ash appeared to be resting in a cave, not a deep cave but one with a sizable entrance, in which the outside world was clearly visible. They were evidently still in the Wastes—the crimson sky was unmistakable—and yet they appeared to be in a different, possibly further inland place. The ruins of battle were still strewn across the land, and yet the bodies were significantly less. Instead, innumerable streaks of ash were marked on the ground, as though a multitude of objects had been seared by heat. Furthermore, Toothless could see the occasional haphazard structure; there were ruined buildings, human ones it looked like, the remains of some ancient village from long ago. 

Approaching the mouth of the cave, the Alpha looked down at the ground. A thin line of amber light, like a thread of sunlight bending as though alive, was traced upon the ground. He touched the amber light with a paw, his claws passing through the trail undisturbed. It did nothing, the line still glowing brightly, and Toothless was intrigued.

The crunch of rock snapped the Night Fury into alert; positioning himself over his sleeping friend, he bared his teeth and prepared to meet the intruder. 

Around the bend walked the cloaked figure from before, a human standing just over six feet in height; he wore a black knee-length coat of some rough dragonscale material, with matching leggings, gloves and boots. The only visible skin was on his navel, the glitter of several cords and chains adorning his neck and tucked beneath a loose gray shirt. His head was concealed not by a hood, but by carefully wrapped strips of cloth around what looked to be a metal mask; the facemask had only a line of opening at eye length, and small holes for breathing. A soft golden glow emitted behind the frame, but offered no vision behind the mask. 

The figure dragged a long silver greatsword in his right hand, a weapon that stood in sharp contrast to the wanderer’s ragged appearance; the large weapon was beautiful and well-crafted, the polished bone handled seared black and adorned with small green stones. The blade was almost as long as the man himself, the gleaming metal adorned with strange runes, and the tip dragging lazily on the ground behind him occasionally showered the ground with sparks. Much to Toothless’s shock, their savior’s other hand was wrapped around a clawed foot; a fully grown, headless Morian was being dragged through the dirt.

The figure did not even appear to register that Toothless was awake, walking into the cave without so much as a look of acknowledgement. 

The Night Fury lowered his guard, puzzled by the human, who continued to drag the Morian along. He leaned his greatsword against the wall before proceeding inward. Turning with him, Toothless saw the inner part of the cave adorned with random bits of junk and weaponry; shields, swords, even some pieces of wood and rope. At the back sat a large oak table, a rack of tools positioned haphazardly against the cave wall. Additional shelves appeared to have dried organs, dead plants, and other random assortments of items. The ground around the table was stained with black blood, harshly chipped bowls of stone laying about and filled with various pieces of what Toothless could only assume was flesh. 

Hoisting the Morian onto the table, the man returned to the cave center and reached for a sconce on the wall; pulling a stone from his pocket, he struck the sconce in a shower of sparks, the cave now brightly illuminated with light. The human—still ignoring the two Night Furies at the entrance to his cave—sat down on an aged chair in the center of the cave, reaching for a small pile of dead wood and twigs. A small fire quickly emerged, and the man dragged over two stone bowls to begin brewing some strange concoction; whatever strange plants he was burning emitted no smoke.

A groan beneath him snapped Toothless out of his observation. Ash stirred, her eyes flickering open.

“Nuggh… Toothless?”

“I’m here.” He lowered his head, nuzzling her gently. “We’re safe for the moment.”

Ash’s eyes were fully open as she dragged herself to her feet. “Where are we?”

“You too, come here.”

The Night Furies looked towards the voice in unison. The shrouded human was stirring the contents of two stone bowls, bits of plants floating in a mixture of watery sludge. Pouring additional liquid into the bowls, from a worn jug beside his chair, he beckoned them closer. 

“Drink this, it will help you purge the poison from your body.”

Despite the fact that he felt fine, Toothless slowly stepped forward. Although he didn’t know if he could trust the mysterious figure, he was the only reason they were still alive. He opened his jaws, and the man stood, pouring the contents of one bowl into his mouth. 

Toothless swallowed, then wretched; the potion tasted like the smell of rotting flesh, but suddenly he felt a rush of strength throughout his body. He motioned to Ash, who also took the potion without protest. She gagged as well, but then the enriching effects stirred in her as well, and she looked at him puzzled.

“So what now?” She grumbled. “What do we do about this guy?” She motioned to the figure, who—setting the bowls back under the table—proceeded to stand over the Morian, pulling dissection tools from the rack as he paid the dragons no mind.

Toothless started. “I don’t know, but he did save our lives. And look!” He pointed to the cave entrance, where the amber line still shone. “This has to be magic! What if he knows where the stone is?”

A sharp laugh sounded from behind them; turning back, the Night Furies beheld the masked figure shaking his shoulders, absentmindedly cutting into the Morian’s ribcage. “That's what you two came all this way for? You travelled into a land of certain death for a rock?”

The two dragons looked at each other, eyes wide with shock. “You can understand us?!” they accused in unison.

The man did not answer at first, still digging into the cadaver. Pulling out an oozing black heart and dropping it into a bowl, he pointed a slimy knife at the two. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Can you two even comprehend how lucky you are?!” he yelled, sticking the knife in the table. Walking back to the fire, he pulled off his soaked gloves and threw them to the ground, revealing pale skin beneath. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, no one should.” Toothless countered, still in disbelief. “So who are you, and what the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m no one.” the man answered. “And you flew into the Wastes like little children seeking adventure, who go off to war thinking they’ll return with glory and gratification. The very air here is enchanted, designed to lure people further into the center and drain them of their strength. The Morian that remain hide in the rubble, waiting for the unsuspecting to peel the flesh from their bones. And there isn’t a drop of clear water for a hundred miles. So I’ll ask again.” he pointed at them. “What are you two doing out here?”

Sighing, Ash sat down beside the fire. “My friend didn’t mean any offense, we’re just surprised, that’s all. I’m Ash, this is Toothless.” She smiled, but her eyes were firm. “And we’re grateful that you saved us, but you’re just as mysterious as this place we're in. How can you understand what we’re saying?”

The man didn’t answer, unseeing eyes peering at them from behind the mask. Slowly a hand reached up, undoing a knot that kept the cloth tied behind his head. He carefully unwrapped the headpiece, revealing spiky raven hair that stuck up forward and at other odd angles. The mask came off, and the two Night Furies beheld a handsome Nordic male with a thin face and a sharp jaw. He rubbed his eyes, setting his face in his hands. 

“I can do a great many things,” he said. “That’s kind of a requirement for surviving out here. The Wastes are hell on earth, not a place for adventure. But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“Maybe we did,” Ash countered, starting to get irritated. “And maybe we have a good reason! And we didn’t know about the enchantments, we only planned to be here for a day at most.”

The man snorted, his head still in his hands as he massaged his eyelids. “Well it hasn’t even been a day, if that makes you feel better. But it doesn’t matter. You should leave as soon as you can.”

Before Ash could retort, Toothless interjected. “If you’ve lived here for a long time, perhaps you could help us. We’re looking for something, and I think you might know about it.” 

“Oh?” The man raised his head, his hands falling to his lap. “Well tell me then, Toothless, what is it you think I know about?”

Toothless stared. 

The man’s irises shone with gold, and where pupils should have been narrow vertical slits were in their place; though the man was young the eyes were hard, ageless… and wrong . 

The Night Fury suddenly felt a not-so-unfamiliar sensation of dread, the desire to flee before a predator that assumed the guise of a weaker creature. He blinked, looking away; he stole a quick glance at Ash, who looked more afraid now than when she had encountered the Morian.

“Well? I’m still waiting,” the man said, relaxing his expression. He held his hands over the fire, his golden eyes flickering across the flames as though a multitude of thoughts were racing through his head. “You mentioned a stone — that's an odd thing to venture into hell for, don’t you think?”

Toothless had a multitude of questions in his mind, but chose instead to answer. “It's not an ordinary stone, it's magical. Which I don’t mean to accuse, but it looks like you might have some experience with that sort of thing.”

“Very observant of you.” The man said sarcastically. “But such an object surely isn’t meant to be held by mortals, right? Especially if you put so much faith in it?”

“You’re one to talk.” a voice said beside him.

Toothless turned, surprised. Ash had never been one to speak out of anger, and yet the female Night Fury’s eyes were filled with rage.

“Ash, what—”

“Shhhh,” the man interjected, holding a thin finger to his lips. “Let her speak.”

“I didn’t think to believe it, at first.” Ash said, growling hard towards the human. “How could a human know what the Wastes were called, or the Morian? Dark stories my elders used to make the little Night Furies behave, and yet here you are living amongst them. And then I thought ‘how could a human understand dragons, much less have the eyes of one?’ It all couldn't be possible, shouldn’t be, not without relying on one sickening truth.”

The man regarded the angry dragoness with interest. “And what truth is that, Ash?”

“That the greatest Night Fury in centuries, the great warrior, my childhood hero , ran away and hid from everything. That all my worries, all the conflict between Night Furies that I grew up with, is because when we needed him most he ran away! Tell me I’m wrong, Nightshade!” Her spine and nostrils began to glow blue. “Tell me I’m wrong!”

The human looked back at Toothless, who expected protest. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders. 

“She isn’t, mostly.” Nightshade admitted, his face breaking into a smirk that—for reasons unknown—caused Toothless’s blood to run cold. A giggle escaped him as the ancient king of the Night Furies, apparently human, ran his fingers through his hair.

Ash looked even more incensed, as though confronting a pile of something repulsive. “What's so funny?”

Golden eyes regarded the dragons with apathy. “Oh, just your assumption that my lack of presence, even if important, excuses the hatred of other dragons. Even funnier…” he pointed at both of them. “... is the idea that I owe any of you anything.” 

Ash reared up, towering over the human in fury. Toothless rushed over, attempting to hold her back. “Please don’t, we can’t—”

“I swear, if he says one more thing I’ll—” 

“Do nothing.” Nightshade’s voice, first ambivalent, now resonated with unnatural strength. 

“I have killed more creatures in more places, gained more power, than any other living being. What exactly is it that you think I owe you, when I fought to save our race from extinction before your parents were even a thought? Should I feel threatened, feel guilty? Maybe the latter, but trust me, you should listen to Toothless.” 

The blue glow left her body, but Ash’s anger remained. “You could’ve stayed, kept us united. It was your duty!”

“Duty…” Nightshade let his hand hover over the fire, his fingers being gently licked by the flame.

 “Yes, it was my duty to rule. And how long would you demand that I fulfill that duty; until death?” He snorted at his own question, but his expression betrayed no humor. “It was my duty to serve my father, to hunt down our enemies and protect my people. Then it was my duty to study the dragonstones, to hone their magic into a force that was good and upright. And when that went south it was my duty to become king, at least after my best friend killed my father . Then I fulfilled my duty and fought once more, to save all life on this earth. And what do I get for my efforts? Life, and more duty according to you. When does it end?”

Despite her rage, Ash couldn’t find an answer fast enough, so Nightshade continued.

 “You are angry because you grew up in a fractured world, split by Night Furies who fought their own battles and formed their own bigotry. Perhaps you’re right, and it wouldn’t have happened under my rule; so tell me, Ash, how long am I expected to linger? Until the entire world has changed and all the Night Furies I’ve known have been replaced three times over? How long should I have ruled, watching everything I know and love decay into dust, right after most of them have been slaughtered already? Maybe you could have endured, with your purity of heart , but forgive me for being selfish. Or don’t, I suppose it makes no difference. You two are mortal, and all mortal things fade.”

Toothless interjected. “We aren’t interested in your reasoning; you made your choice and that’s your business. We just came for the stone.”

“Ah yes, the true prize.” Nightshade raised his hands in mock worship. “All hail the dragonstones, the great perversions of nature! Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think he’ll be going with you. Not least because you don’t deserve such power—no one does—but because he’s decided to stick with me. The idiot, really…”

“He?” Ash couldn’t help herself; no one had ever referred to a dragonstone as male or female. Actually… Holly had, now that she thought about it.

“Well, not exactly. I’d like to imagine that his personality is on the masculine side, but I guess he’s even less of a man than I am.” Chuckling to himself, Nightshade pulled out something from his pocket and held it out.

“Say hello, Antaris.”

The Night Furies leaned in, beholding the egg-shaped amber jewel nestled in Nightshade’s hand. A dim light shone deep within the stone, but where Toothless expected to feel an existential horror—like the emerald stone on Aylan—he was surprised to be overwhelmed with a sense of… thrill? The light of Antaris was warm and inviting, the waves of magic flowing and mixing within. 

“It's… beautiful.” Ash whispered, forgetting her anger for a moment. “And I can look at it without feeling threatened. Why?” 

Nightshade ran his thumb over the dragonstone, his eyes wandering. “As they grew, each of the stones took an aspect of existence for itself to embody. I guess it helped them define themselves, find a purpose. I started calling him Antaris because of his love for change, to use magic to alter the world around us. It’s because of him that I can turn into a human; reality is his canvas, to fashion things of great beauty that the natural world couldn’t. At least, that's the ideal…”

Ash looked at Nightshade scornfully. “So what, you just keep it around while you spend a century and a half in exile? What is the point of either of you then?”

“The ‘point’ is that we can’t die, yet we hold unimaginable power. Would you have us lord over the earth for thousands of years, being tempted and taunted while my mortal friends fade away? Where Night Furies follow my rule but curse under their breath for bringing calamity upon them? I didn’t want to find out, so here I am. And despite how angry that makes you, it could always be worse.” Nightshade put Antaris back in his pocket. “We don’t belong in the world, me or the stones.”

As the non-human reached for the jug, putting it to his lips, Ash responded. “You sound just like Holly.”

Who? Toothless thought, but his question left him as Nightshade choked on his drink. He tossed the jug to the side, eyes wild.

“What did you say?” he demanded, disregarding the jug shattering on the ground.

“What, you mean your betrothed?” Ash accused, and Toothless had never imagined that she could sound so spiteful. “The Night Fury that you left, after all the war and bloodshed? I met her, and she’s just as self-deprecating as you.”

Nightshade's golden eyes glowed, his face blank and unrevealing as his pupils drew thin. “You lie… she can’t have lived this long… that's impossible!”

“Well she’s alive, not that that possibility seemed to cross your mind for the last hundred and fifty years!” Ash screamed. “I used to think that you were all great heroes, but now I think you’re all just as selfish as we are now! You think your suffering justifies leaving your race to fight amongst themselves when that suffering is your fault!”

“ Hold your tongue, child .” Nightshade’s face contorted into a dark sneer — and Toothless swore his shadow on the wall was beginning to grow. “You cannot understand the danger you are still in.”

“ENOUGH!” Toothless shouted, attracting both their attention. Ash looked both annoyed and embarrassed, while the non-human regarded the Alpha with interest. “This is pointless. If you don’t want to help us then fine, sit here and rot. We’ll just be on our way.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Nightshade exclaimed, raising his hands. “I just have one question; if all your problems are my fault, then what are Night Furies fighting about these days that's so serious? Indulge an old creature with some information, since I saved your life.”

Ash looked like she wanted to spit out another insult, but her response was controlled. “We split into factions after your ‘exile’. Seregon thinks that Aylan dragons are weak-willed and foolish, while we call them barbarians. To say nothing of Holly, who founded her own small colony which separated itself from everyone else.”

Golden eyes glittered. “That can’t be all. What about the other two stones; surely they didn’t just throw them away?”

“The emerald one is on Aylan, and Seregon has none.” Ash retorted. “The obsidian one’s still with Holly.”

“Oh really?” Nightshade leaned back in his chair with the air of a man who knew more than he let on. “And… What do they say about Runar? Just curious.”

Ash cocked her head. “How can you ask me that? He’s an abomination, the embodiment of evil. He took a dragonstone and waged war on everyone!”

“That's not what everyone thinks, not all of it.” Toothless interrupted. Ash did not attempt to hide her shock, while Nightshade cocked an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?!” she said.

“Night Furies on Seregon also condemn Runar, but they tell a different explanation. They blame Nancarin, the dragonstone.”

Nightshade doubled over in his chair, shaking with laughter like a drunk man being told a joke at the tavern. The outburst shocked both Night Furies, who looked at each other in confusion; it was now clearly apparent to both of them—if it hadn’t been already—that something was extremely wrong with the former king, who struggled for breath in between giggles.

“Oh, that's rich…” Nightshade gasped, attempting to regain his composure. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! Even with having survivors of the war leading you, they can’t even agree how it started! You’ve had the justification for your anger all along… you could agree on basic details of your own history, and your divisions could be mended.”

“What do you mean?” Ash questioned.

“I’m saying you Aylan Night Furies are wrong, and so is Seregon. No? Fine, let me explain. Seregon is correct; Runar did not become evil on his own accord. Nancarin consumed him, tortured his dreams until there was no Runar left. But they are just as ignorant as you, because they fear the one dragonstone that can’t hurt anyone!” He continued to laugh, slapping his knee.

“Wait, hold on… what do you mean ‘can't hurt anyone’?” Toothless asked, confused. “I thought the dragonstones all had similar powers!”

“They do, if you think of them as tools.” Nightshade countered, his eyes maniacal. “But they are so much more… Kemenar chose the embodiment of life, and life is intrinsic to his being. To take a life is a rejection of his very existence, so his magic can’t do it unless personally threatened! Not unless he wants to lose himself, not that that makes any sense either…” Nightshade stood, erratically coming to stand behind his chair. “You could have solved all your conflicts by agreeing on facts, but your precious elders—the survivors of the war—preferred to make their own answers!”

“I can’t believe that!” Ash exclaimed. “My elders wouldn’t lie about something like that!” 

But even as she said it, she looked to doubt her own words.

Surprisingly, Nightshade gave Ash a thin smile free of malice. “I didn’t say it was intentional. But even dragons will ignore that which isn’t convenient, no matter how true. And after the war I’m sure the Night Furies needed someone to blame, but if you decide to blame different things, then maybe it doesn’t matter how true the thing is after all. Not if enough people believe in it for enough time.” 

He grabbed the greatsword from the wall—which alarmed Toothless—but then returned to the fire, poking the coals with the large blade. “And I never said I disagreed with anything you said.”

Ash looked puzzled. “Huh?”

“I agree with you. All of this—this hellscape, your colonies, these stones—is because of me.” Nightshade kept picking at the fire, golden eyes reflecting the light. “I shouldn’t be here, in a human body. I should be dead, lying out there with all the others; it's what I deserved. And the stones —these cursed things—their magic kept me alive, and it’s irreversible.”

“I thought it would be better that way, if I fell fighting to end what I started. And when I realized not only did I not die, but I would live for untold ages, I was afraid. Call me a coward, if you will, but I couldn’t do it.” Nightshade gritted his teeth. 

“I couldn’t watch Holly age and die, waiting on a Night Fury who would live forever. She deserved a full life, with someone who would live and die with her. And now here you are, telling me she suffered from the same fate while I wandered the Wastes like a ghost!”

Before either dragon could react, Nightshade swung the greatsword out of the fire in a rage; the creaky chair fell into a pile of rods as the blade cleanly separated the wood. He staggered off balance, hesitating with the weapon in hand, before throwing it against the wall with a clang. Ash—who but minutes ago had been ready to draw blood—now looked most sorrowful as she beheld the erratic human, who sank to the ground leaning against the cave wall, his head in his hands.

The non-human drew a ragged breath.

“You don’t need me, Ash. You don’t need the stone.” Nightshade spoke to her, but his eyes were locked on the ground, as though part of his consciousness was elsewhere. “You have everything you need to face the oncoming storm.”

“What’s that?” Ash stammered, her voice shaky.

“Him.” Nightshade pointed at Toothless. “And yourself. I can see in your eyes, your mind, the success you’ve achieved, though you may find it trivial. And you seem to have something I have long lost. Faith… faith in the goodwill of others.”

“I don’t…” Ash’s sentence died out, and she looked lost for words. 

Toothless remained silent, struggling to see an end to the situation they found themselves in. Here they stood in a cave, surrounded by death and blight, with a creature older and more powerful than any they had met. And it saddened him greatly to see the human—or dragon, or whatever—in such a state, regardless of the how and why. The Alpha had heard tales of a king, and yet here sat a shell of a dragon in a human body.

Finally, Ash cleared her throat. 

“I don’t think a single thing you’ve done, for any reason, was the right thing to do. But I won’t curse your name; there are young dragons all over Aylan who revere you, even after all this time, and I won’t take that pride away from them. If you think staying here is what’s best, I can’t stop you. And you’re right about the dragonstones, maybe they do bring more harm than good and we’ll have to reconcile that when we return. But by all the stars in the sky…” she glared hard at Nightshade, her pupils thin. “You should be ashamed of yourself, leaving Holly. I hope that you go find her and beg for forgiveness, not for your sake but for hers. And I hope she spurns you.”

Nightshade didn’t respond, sitting there flexing his fingers. He looked to be in a completely different world, a sight that drew both anger and pity from the two Night Furies.

“We should get out of here.” Toothless muttered. Ash nodded, and the two dragons turned for the cave entrance.

“Wait. That tail… it's metal, is it not?”

Surprised, the pair looked back. Nightshade was standing up, eyeing Toothless with curiosity.

“That is a human invention. How did you get it?”

Toothless didn’t understand why he cared, but it didn’t matter; they were on their way out anyway. “I was shot down by a human who intended to kill me. But he had a change of heart, and decided to learn about me instead. Now he’s the closest thing I have to a brother, and his village opened their hearts to dragons. You could learn a thing or two from them.”

Nightshade stroked his chin, paying no heed to the Alpha’s jab. “Fascinating… Unlikely… humans and dragons…” He appeared lost in thought, before blinking. “Oh, right! You two don’t know exactly how far in the Wastes you are; I can’t let you fly off, you’ll never make it. Here.”

The man reached into his pocket, the amber glow of Antaris emerging. “Where would you like to go?”

Ash appeared hesitant, but after taking a glance outside into the crimson sky, she stood tall. “Aylan. The top of the crescent peak.”

“Stand close to each other.” 

Toothless and Ash did as they were told, taking one last look at the enigmatic human standing by the fire. Nightshade cocked his head, a corner of his lip turned upward as he beheld the two young Night Furies. The amber dragonstone glowed, and the two dragons vanished with the ethereal wail, as though they had never stood there.

And Nightshade, the ancient king of the Night Furies, returned to sit by the fire, watching the coals die with golden eyes. But the dragonstone in his hand continued to glow, growing warm.

“Oh, now you feel like talking?” The human spoke to the empty cave, holding the gemstone up to eye level. No response could be seen, and yet thoughts transpired between them.

“Well of course if you freaks hadn’t turned me immortal, we wouldn’t be here!” Nightshade yelled. 

“You have to admit, they both have heart. And they have interesting memories…” 

The stone burned hot, and Nightshade dropped it reflexively. “Ow! Don’t give me that, you read their thoughts too. You know, you three could just as easily fix shit yourself, but I know, I know… rules. ”

The glow of Antaris lessened but did not abate, and Nightshade picked it up again. “What do you mean I could go back? After everything that's transpired, you want me and you—two walking time-bombs of power—to return to dragon society. And why now, why not a hundred years ago?”

The dragonstone flickered with light.

“Fine, be cryptic then.” Nightshade spat. “And don’t think I’m letting any of you off the hook, either. I’m not an idiot; you knew Holly was affected by that blast and kept it to yourselves.” He said nothing for a moment, scattering the embers with his foot.

“Opened their hearts… very interesting.” the old king muttered to himself, and a strange look began to take root in his eyes; a hunger for something beyond physical need.

At once Nightshade stood, racing to retrieve the greatsword. “C’mon, I could use a hand!”

Antaris flickered once more.

“Oh, now you're calling me cryptic, you hypocrite! C’mon, we can debate my future after I get what I need. A little introspective trip, if you will.”

He stood in the center of the cave, the dragonstone enveloping him in waves of amber light. And then the cave stood empty, not a sound except for the permanent rumble of thunder from an enchanted sky.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: First Blood

Of all the possible experiences that a dragon could have, the Alpha of Berk had never in his life expected teleportation to be one of them. Obviously it was the reasonable alternative—given the danger of traversing the Wastes—but Toothless had not remotely considered how unsettling the sensation was. One moment he and Ash were standing in Nightshade’s cave, and then suddenly it was like being enveloped in amber fog, then sucked through a tube. And he found himself hovering above nothing, seeing nothing, free-floating in a void…

And it was over in a fraction of a second; his paws touched rock, and the smell of the sea rushed to his nostrils. The island of Aylan and the seas of Mystholm sat beneath them, almost as if they had been standing on the peak the entire time. The sun was shining brightly amongst wisps of clouds, and it couldn’t be later than mid-afternoon. Toothless was astounded, which quickly turned to dizziness as he struggled to find his footing; Ash seemed to be suffering from the same dilemma, crashing into him in a tangle of wings and tails. For a moment they simply lie there, neither Night Fury having the words nor the desire to describe what had transpired over the last couple hours.

Finally, Ash cleared her throat. “Did all that really just happen?”

“I’m afraid so.” 

“Fuck…” Toothless felt scales firmly brush against him as Ash pressed her head against his chest, her body shaking.

“I’m so sorry… we never should’ve gone! We could’ve died, you could’ve died!”

“Ash, look at me.” Toothless said firmly, and she looked up. “We never could’ve known it was that bad… we’re here, and we’re safe. That's all that matters.”

“But what was the point of that?!” Ash stood up, pacing around while Toothless watched. “Why in the hell would that stone show me the Wastes?! I mean, what did we actually accomplish by going there; yeah sure, we found Nightshade, who just so happens to be selfish at best and completely insane at worst!”

“You’ll get no argument from me about Nightshade, but hear me out.” Toothless responded. “Yes, he’s crazy, but he was kind of right. We got some help from the other colonies, that's a start! And now we know both sides, so we can maybe—just maybe—have some constructive dialogue between Aylan and Seregon. It’s not everyone, but we won’t have to fight alone.” He positioned himself in front of Ash, halting her brooding. “You achieved what you needed to do; maybe not as much as you wanted, but you did something. We did.”

Ash lost some of her fluster at his words, taking a deep breath before responding. “Okay, you're right. But I just feel… look, I didn’t have to do any of this, alright?! I could’ve just not worried about what the Watchers were doing, been content with being a normal Night Fury. Instead I’ve flown all over god knows where and had everything I thought I knew about our people questioned!”

“You’re the only good thing that's gone right for me since I left! And sure, maybe we did enough and this will make all our lives better. But it wouldn’t have mattered because I almost lost you twice and I couldn’t—”

Ash ran out of words, her eyes widening in embarresment. The two Night Furies stood less than a few feet apart, and yet the air between them was as tense as a taught line. Emerald eyes were locked with sapphire, both yearning to say what they really wanted to, and neither having the courage to do so.

“Ash…” Toothless started, but he realized that she was no longer looking at him; Ash’s expression had changed from apprehension to terror, her eyes locked on something over his shoulder. He turned, looking north. The ocean appeared to be littered with small dots, steadily increasing in number, and Toothless’s heart clenched.

The dragon hunters had arrived.

Elsewhere… 

“Lord Talon, look! To the northwest!”

The ruby-eyed Night Fury turned his head, peering at the horizon. Aylan was fast approaching, but he could now see that his scout party—currently flying just above the ocean level—were not the only uninvited visitors. Large ships were becoming more visible as an enormous fleet filled the ocean, sailing directly for the lush island. Talon couldn’t help but laugh out loud; Ash and her foreigner friend had been right after all.

“There has to be at least 200 ships, maybe more!” One Night Fury observed.

Another warrior scoffed. “I’d double that number, we can only see them from the sea level!”

“You’re right!” Talon shouted, his blood beginning to race. “Follow me! Let’s get a better look at our new adversary. Do not attack unless a clear opening presents itself, we have several hours before the advantage of nightfall!”

“The first blood will be ours!”

Shrieks of thrill filled the air as a dozen Seregon Night Furies maneuvered in unison, following Talon as he gained altitude. They changed course towards the fleet, increasing speed to almost barrier-breaking levels. A hunger for blood began to overtake them; they had never fought humans before, but it did not matter. Lives would be taken nonetheless.

And the Night Furies of Seregon—as well as Ash and Toothless, who now raced to warn the dragons of Aylan—were not the only observers to the oncoming threat. 

In the enveloping fog of Nightmare’s Eyrie a shadow raced through the barely detectable trees, making its way to the cave where the Lady of the Watchers rested. The Watcher raced into the cave, an older male Night Fury bringing warning to the matriarch. But upon entering he found that the warning was already there; The Lady stood before the obsidian dragonstone, which was enwreathed in white flame. An unholy, ethereal wail filled the cave as though dozens of metal blades were being grinded together, and the usually black dragonstone was alight with indiscernible waves of color.

“My Lady…” the Watcher started, hesitantly standing far from the dragonstone. “There are human ships on the horizon, hundreds of them. They will reach Aylan very soon!”

“Thank you, Shade. Summon the Watchers, all of them. The time has come much faster than we thought!”

The Watcher bowed, exiting the cave, but Holly took no notice. Herentir was in a state of complete chaos, as though some otherworldly force had wounded whatever spirit the stone possessed. She had felt it, an oncoming rush of magic not several minutes ago, as though the world itself had been altered. And it hadn’t come from her stone.

“Antaris?” she whispered to herself.

The stone’s waves of color revealed nothing.

Holly shook her head, dispelling her mind of distractions. War was upon them, and she was about to meet it head-on. The stone could wait.

Back on Aylan…

Toothless performed a tight corkscrew as he broke through the treeline, his wings barely grazed by the thick branches. Him and Ash had agreed to split up, and she had flown straight for the hatching grounds. The Alpha, on the other hand, was determined to gather as many fully-grown Night Furies as he could to fight. Gritting his teeth, Toothless found himself seething with anger as he navigated the forest. The last few minutes flashed across his memory; Ash had been only mere feet away, and he had been so close. I was just about to finally…  

He felt sick, and yet Toothless pushed the thoughts out of his mind; the situation was too desperate to be worried about such things.

“Toothless!”

He pulled up hard, craning his neck at the distant greeting. A large pack of Night Furies, both male and female—some of which he recognized from his first night here—were in the process of changing direction to meet him. And at their head was…

“Thorn?!”

“I’ll be honest, I still had my doubts.” the young dragon flew to his side, his dark green eyes flashing. “But everyone who doubted Ash’s worry is eating their words now!”

Toothless frowned initially—clearly, the ships were beyond worrisome—but his expression softened as he allowed himself to feel relief. “I’m just glad to see you, all of you! How many Night Furies can we gather to defend the island?”

“We’ve got about 30 here!” one dragon yelled. “And packs are being formed all through the forest!”

The Alpha stiffened; that's not going to be enough at all. “We need every dragon we can muster, and we need them to work in unison! Send out a few of yourselves and tell any pack you come across to gather by the beaches, and stay in the trees until I say so.”

“Does that mean you’re taking command?” Thorn questioned.

The question struck Toothless abruptly, but so did the reality of the situation; none of these dragons had dealt with humans before, and they needed a leader.

“I will,” he said firmly. “If you’ll have me.”

To his surprise, the pack cheered and began to disperse as easily as if they had followed him all their lives; some Night Furies separated themselves and vanished into the trees to carry out his request. Toothless thought back to Berk, of all the hours that young riders and their dragons spent drilling to build teamwork and trust. It would seem that even when they had never formally fought in their lives, the threat to their home was enough to band Aylan’s dragons together. He only hoped that the rest of the Night Furies shared that sentiment.

“Go, I’ll find others!” Thorn yelled, directing himself towards the heart of the forest.

Toothless didn’t have to be told twice; the two young Night Furies flew to and fro, alerting any scaled creature they found to head for the beaches. The entire ecosystem of the forest was greatly disturbed by the sudden horde of movement from the partially nocturnal dragons; elk and other animals were sprinting for cover as dark shadows flew overhead, Night Furies either heading for shore or leading younger dragons to safety. But the longer it took the faster Toothless began to fly, straining himself as much as he could without tiring himself before battle. The ships had been a decent way off, but they had the wind behind them and there were so many. As soon as he was sure he found everyone he could, Toothless bolted for the beaches on the north side.

He could see them before he even reached the beaches; several hundred Night Furies of varying ages and sizes, males and females. They had all gathered in the treeline only a hundred feet from the edge of the forest, the approaching armada faintly visible through the thick underbrush. Some turned to greet him and Thorn—who had also streaked in with a dozen Night Furies at his back—but most of them were fully absorbed by the human vessels. Toothless landed at the front of the colony dragons, his eyes narrowing.

“What the hell…”

Despite the sheer size of the fleet, it was clear that some of the vessels in the front were already on fire. A small group of black dots were flying above like hornets, harassing the ships but staying very high up to avoid the already visible nets and arrows being fired in their direction.

“I thought I said no one attack!” he yelled, turning to look for an answer.

“That’s not any of us!” someone shouted.

Who on earth? Toothless looked back to see some of the ships steering out of the way of the front line boats, of which a few were already beginning to sink. But the sheer number of ships meant that if they chose to spread out, they could potentially surround the island.

“Listen up!” Toothless yelled. “You’ll fight in the packs that you formed on the way here, so we can meet the humans wherever they try to land! Pick leaders amongst yourselves and have them step forward!”

The crowd of Night Furies muttered amongst themselves, and a few dozen of them quickly came to stand in front of him. The Alpha took a deep breath, rehearsing every possible useful thing he could remember about dragon hunters. He almost felt grateful that the dragon rider’s time at the Edge had been so exploratory and chaotic; it would serve him well now.

“Alright,” he started. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

While Toothless and his new comrades prepared for battle, their mysterious allies were already in the midst of harassing the lead ships. Talon seethed with frustration as he sent a plasma blast towards the base of a ship mast, only to watch it fizzle out against a plate of green steel. Fucking hell… He had to admit, he was impressed by the human’s ingenuity, but thankfully there were a multitude of ways to cripple a ship. 

Leaving a trail of burning sails behind him, the Night Fury surveyed the battlefield. There were indeed many more ships; the fleet was likely some 400 vessels strong, the small party of dragons he had brought nothing more than a few flies upon them. One of the Seregon Night Furies had already fallen—a barbed harpoon through the neck—but the remainder were thoroughly enjoying themselves as they set fire to the enemy, occasionally seeing how accurately they could strike individual humans on the deck.

But the closer the ships got to the beaches, the quicker Talon realized his failure to understand how humans thought and fought based on the strength of their inventions. The burning ships in the front caused the fleet to balloon outwards, the ships steering wide to avoid having their hulls shattered by their sinking counterparts. But the fleet now occupied a wide radius of sea that could encircle much of Aylan if given the chance. 

Talon growled, straining with all his might as he aimed for his next target. Corkscrewing to avoid a hail of arrows and nets, he thrust himself directly into the main mast of a ship, catching the wooden log with all fours. The steel braces held, but the wooden base beneath them did not, as the entire mast was snapped from the ship’s deck. Ignoring the screams of crushed sailors beneath him, Talon reared his head and shrieked to his warriors.

“Rally to me! Let’s see if we can find some better weaknesses!”

The dozen Night Furies ascended, far above the reach of human weaponry, and fell back behind the fleet. The various ship captains took little notice—they were a small group, after all—and continued to press for land. The first few ships that reached the shore drove right up against the sand, hundreds of dragon hunters climbing down or leaping into the water. The humans were burly and well armed with steel, their dragonroot arrows nocked and ready, and their vessels were already beginning to lower cages to the earth. To them the forests of Aylan provided neither beauty nor interest, their only concern being the possibility of dragons hidden beneath the green. The air was silent, the blasts of the dragons they had already seen silenced for the moment, as the first waves of an army cautiously made their way up the beach. 

A torrent of fire broke the silence as dozens of fully charged plasma bolts flew out of the trees; those hunters who had brought shields were mostly protected, but the unlucky ones were torched. The shots continued in quick succession, humans running everywhere as survivors sought to evade the shots, while those who continued to charge towards the vegetation were pulverized. Eventually one hunter managed to raise a signal flag, getting off a wave before a well-placed shot blew the arm from his shoulder; flaming projectiles began launching from the closest ships, barely passing into the forest edge, and the plasma barrage stopped. The hunters cheered as the trees began to burn, charging across the beach in growing numbers. But for those that were the first to break into the vegetation, they found no enemy; some spots of blood could be seen, the occasional dragonroot arrow littering the ground, but the dragons had gone.

A low whistle began to build in the air, quickly building into an immeasurable shriek as the hunters looked up, nervous. Some were already in the process of diving for cover as they realized they could no longer clearly get off arrows through the treeline, shadows streaking over them. Around 60 Night Furies—having pulled back into the forest but not massing above the island—now descended across the length of the beach, flying faster than the human ballistas could react to. They fired only once, yet the combined strength of their blasts devastated the beached vessels. At their forefront was Toothless, who guided them wide around the ships to avoid any spears and nets. He could now fully see the vastness of the fleet; surely they could devastate them in darkness without many casualties, but the hunters had chosen an auspicious time to attack. The sky was just beginning to change with streaks of red and pink, but they still had another hour or two to wait. And they couldn’t afford to lose too many Night Furies before then.

As they circled the fleet—which was now able to encircle half of the island, although the remainder of this area was cliff—Toothless eyed the black dragons from earlier, who appeared to be in the process of trying to destroy the rudders of the rear guard vessels. These Night Furies looked scarred and battled hardened; and at their head, having just dove across a ship deck to clamp a warrior in his jaws, was…

“Talon?!”

As he joined the Alpha’s party, Talon bit down hard, crushing the dragon hunter before letting his body fall into the sea. 

“Ah, I was wondering if I would see you again so soon!” the lord of Seregon exclaimed, his jaws bloody.

The Aylan Night Furies behind Toothless were in shock to see such members of their kin so bloodridden and battered, some visibly recoiling under the glare of Talon’s ruby eyes. “Barbarians! What are they doing here?”

“Shut up!” Toothless snapped behind him. “They’re fighting the same humans you are, so insult each other later. C’mon!” 

The Night Furies—now joined by Talon’s hunting party—dove back into the cover of the forest, where the humans were still marshalling their numbers. By now hundreds more had come ashore amongst their smoldering predecessors, storming into the forest in search of Night Furies on the ground. They were met with claws and teeth, and the slaughter was formidable. Despite the potency of dragonroot and the strength of their steel the hunters found themselves in a field of nightmares; coal-black drakes would emerge from the woods, take the head of a warrior or set fire to a wheeled ballista, and then flee back into the woods. Even the Night Furies that fell wounded or paralyzed were of little worth, as the humans found the fighting so fierce that there was no time to trap the dragons and haul them off. Occasionally one would fall dead to a spear, but the fighting went on, neither side being able to truly take stock of their losses in the all-surrounding jungle.

In the chaos, Toothless found himself fighting as a pair with Talon, the two males tearing through dragon hunters as they tried to wheel a ballista from the beach. “You know, if I had to guess…” the lord of Seregon quipped, flattening a bearded warrior with one swing of a paw, “... I’d say you're enjoying this as much as I am!”

The Alpha couldn’t deny that there was a strange, almost predatory feeling about not holding back; he had always tried his best for years to not fatally harm a human, considering it both a duty and a goal to respect Hiccup’s intentions to convince his enemies rather than hurt them. But amongst the other Night Furies Toothless felt no such inhibition, his claws and teeth already stained with blood.

“Maybe, but I definitely don’t look forward to this kind of thing!” he shouted back as he swept several hunters off their feet with a wing. “Not as much as your little hunting party!”

Talon laughed, eagerly plunging his claws into a warrior while rearing his head to the side; a plasma bolt sailed from his jaws and made contact with the ballista, bursting into flames. The sight of the two dragons covered in blood caused the remaining hunters to flee, racing back towards the beach. As the clamor of battle and shrieks of dragons surrounded them, Toothless and Talon took stock of the numerous bodies around them.

“You know I love a good test of claws, but I don’t think we can fight on the ground for long!” Talon remarked. “The sun will set soon, but how many dragons will have been lost by then?”

Toothless growled in frustration. “I agree. We should pull everyone back, keep fighting at a distance until we have the cover of darkness. Then we can torch the ships without a problem.”

With that, the pair of Night Furies took to the air to rally the Night Furies in the forest. Those too injured to fly were still more than capable of racing away on foot, and the dragons began to vanish deeper into the trees. Although the dragon hunters—which had only continued to disembark in great numbers—now had free reign of the beach and some of the forest, it was just as troublesome as if they had stayed on the ships. The forest was beginning to burn, the smoke and flame obscuring vision and filling the once-sweet air with ash. Thankfully Toothless could see that their numbers were still plentiful, although many of the Night Furies bore cuts and some were clearly affected by the dizzying effects of dragonroot.

“Wait!” a voice cried from the forest.

Toothless peered through the trees, noticing a few Night Furies flying directly toward them. At their head was Zephyr, who already appeared to have engaged in battle; she was missing a few spines along her back, and her wings were slightly torn.

“Zephyr? Are you alright, where did you come from?!”

“I was guarding the hatching grounds with Ash!” Zephyr exclaimed, struggling to keep herself afloat. “We moved all the eggs, but they’re still coming!”

“Coming? What do you mean?”

“They’re climbing up the cliff!” Zephyr shouted at him, eliciting gasps and yells from the pack behind him. “There's not a lot of ships over there but the ones that are have hunters scaling the rock face!”

Oh, shit. He hadn’t even thought of that; it wasn’t impossible for humans to do such a thing, but it was risky and time-consuming. But with the size of their fleet Toothless supposed it was worth it for them. He swore loudly, turning to fly past them towards the hatching grounds. 

“Wait, stop!” Toothless pulled up as Talon cut in front of him, blocking his path. “If you take all these Night Furies to the other side of the island, they will have complete control of the forest!”

Toothless snarled; Ash wasn’t with Zephyr, which meant she had to still be there. “What should we do then?!”

“Keep your fight to the majority of their fleet, wait for the cover of darkness. They can’t haul their big weapons up the cliff without huge numbers, so they are still vulnerable to attack.” Talon let loose an inhuman shriek, reverberating throughout the forest, and a few Night Furies separated themselves from the group. Only 6 Seregon dragons remained, but their eyes burned with fury.

“We will take care of them.” Talon stated, his warriors coming to hover behind him.

“We can’t let these barbarians into our hatching grounds, humans or no!” someone yelled from the pack.

Toothless turned to retort, but Talon had already moved in a flash; he stopped directly in front of the young Night Fury, his chin still dripping with blood.

“If you think you are brave enough, then we can go home, and you can keep Aylan from burning yourself .” He said calmly, but his ruby eyes stared straight into the young dragon’s without blinking, who looked away in fear.

“He’s right.” Toothless snapped. “We keep harassing the humans, the sun will be down within the hour. Go, Talon. Good luck.”

Without another word, the Seregon Night Furies took off, and Toothless turned to address the remaining pack. “C’mon, follow me!”

As the Night Furies turned to navigate back towards the open ocean—hoping that he could keep the ships from further surrounding Aylan—Toothless forced his fears out of his head. Surely Ash would be fine, and would be getting reinforcements soon.

If only the sun could set faster.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: Introspection

While the Alpha threw himself back into battle, hundreds of miles away, Berk was experiencing quite a different spectacle than what the Night Fury was beholding. 

The entire island was in the throes of merriment, Vikings and their dragons finding numerous ways to celebrate the long-awaited day that all had been looking forward to for quite some time. The wedding of Hiccup and Astrid had evolved into a day-long affair, filled with dragon racing and feasting and every other thing the Vikings could use as an excuse to celebrate their chief and chieftess. The Great Hall was fully decorated in bright colors of gold and red, the fires were roaring, and food and drink were in abundance. Even the weather seemed to welcome their matrimony; the freshly fallen snow glittered in the sun, and yet the air was not bitterly cold on this day, as though the gods themselves wished for the Berkians to spend the day in uninhibited celebration.

When the time finally came for the ceremony the Great Hall was packed, every Viking fighting their way to get a front row seat to such an anticipated event. Even the dragons desired to watch, though they preferred to peer in from rooftops or circle the hall in waiting as they could not all fit inside. The exchanging of rings and swords elicited strong praise from the crowd. Hiccup’s ancestral sword project had become a weapon of fine beauty—shining steel emblazoned with the runes of their families—which Astrid gladly traded with one of her own: the sword of Fearless Finn Hofferson, who’s honor they had restored all those years ago. 

The long-awaited exchange of vows was had, and before Hiccup could even lean in, Astrid seized him by the scruff of his tunic and kissed him. The crowd erupted into both laughs and cheers, and the dragons outside filled the sky with fireworks of flame.

Amidst the post-wedding celebrations—which spilled out of houses into the wider village—Valka made her way through the crowd, taking in the rowdy atmosphere of a people in full support of their chief. Passerby raised their mugs to her as she passed; even throughout the chaos of rebuilding the island, those Vikings that knew her before her disappearance had accepted her back warmly. The mother of the chief found her heart full, seeing her son marry a loving woman whom she now knew to be strong and kind. If only Stoick was here to witness this day, and as she looked up at the towering statue that marked the entrance to the Hall, Valka smiled to herself. 

I know you’re in Valhalla, watching over our boy, she thought. See how much better we are because of him.

A strong force knocked Valka out of her thoughts as a tall man slammed into her from the side, the two of them falling into the snow as bystanders gasped. Massaging her forehead, she looked at her assailant who, it looked like, had stumbled into her by accident. 

He was a tall young man with jet-black hair, which was wild and stuck up at odd angles. His clothing was worn and odd: a long black coat covering a grey wool shirt, with matching trousers and boots of some scaly material. Chains clinked around his neck, a few necklaces depicting shapes that Valka could not recognize. But she could clearly see that he was unwell; his skin was deathly pale, his nails filthy, and he was sweating and shaking profusely. His eyes, which looked to be a hazel-ish color, were dry and red.

“Ow… my apologies, good woman.” He stammered, holding his head. “I did not see you there, forgive me.”

“Are you alright? You look terribly ill, lad!” Valka rose to her feet, kneeling to help the strange man to his own. “Been enjoying the party a little too much, have we?”

The man groaned, welcoming her helping hand, but his eyes did not meet her gaze despite being taller than her. “If you mean drinking, I don’t partake.” he responded, chuckling. “I’m just a little under the weather, that's all.”

“A little? By Thor, you can barely stand!” Valka exclaimed, rushing to support him as he staggered. “Come, you need to sit down, get out of the cold.”

The closest building was the forge, which was dark; Gobber was out enjoying the feast, no doubt. Helping the man to a table, Valka lit a candle and went back outside. Returning in a matter of moments, holding a plate of foot and a mug of water in her hand, she set them down in front of him.

“If your appetite is up for it, this will do you good.” Valka stated, sitting opposite him. “You're strangely dressed for a Viking.”

Choking down the water, the man spoke, but his eyes remained lowered. “True, I’m… not from around here. I came on board the last trade ship, got left behind… I haven’t been myself lately.”

Valka tilted her head. “Well, I’m sure another one will arrive soon. But you need rest, you look like a ghost!”

“I feel like one.” he muttered, then he glanced at her for a moment before lowering his eyes again. “You’re the mother of the chief aren’t you? Congratulations on your son's wedding.”

Valka smiled. “Thank you, it's been a long time coming.”

“Clearly — this celebration could go on for days.” Swirling the remaining water in his mug, the man cleared his throat. “This is a strange village indeed. Your son’s quite an inventor, and those inventions aren’t even a tenth of all the craziness here.”

Her lips pursed at the comment. “You mean the dragons?”

“What else? This could be the only place on earth where our species are living together instead of slaughtering each other.” He coughed again into his arm—a foul wretch, as though he had forgotten how to breathe—before continuing. “How did you all do it?”

Valka blinked. “What do you mean, friend?”

“How did you all find hope? The ability to face an uncertain future. I’ve been told that Berk was famous for fighting dragons years ago. Surely after generations of war, befriending giant fire-breathers is the least conceivable thought.”

She laughed, surprised by his question. “Isn’t hope something everyone searches for when things go wrong? You’re a strange fellow, with strange questions.”

“Humor me.”

Valka gave him a long look. “When I first lived here we lived under constant dragon attack. This place was a land of kill or be killed, and I was the only one who thought that peace could be possible; it was a very unpopular opinion, even with my dear husband. And when I was taken by a dragon, I decided not to return because I thought that after my so-called ‘death’, that the people here would have too much hate to change their minds. And you know what happened?”

“What?” the man asks, downing the rest of his water.

“They found peace anyway, without me.” Valka stated, smiling. “My son shot down a Night Fury, the rarest of all dragons, and all his ancestors would have cheered at the thought of young Hiccup slaying such a beast. He could’ve become respected and admired for this deed, and what did he do? He took a chance and freed the beast. And here we are, years later.” She rested her chin in her hand. “How much would be different if he hadn’t grasped that straw of hope?”

“Much, I’d wager.” The man ran his hands through his hair, rubbing his temple. “I’d imagine it's a shock to you, after seeing so much change. Especially—and I mean no offense—since you chose to stay away.”

Valka nodded. “Aye, I did, and there are many things I regret not doing and not saying. But fate still led my son to me eventually, and me back home. Dwindling on actions not taken leads only to sadness, when there is still so much life to live.” With that, she stood up, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, friend. You could use our healer to examine you.” And she left.

The man waited until the door was closed, and her footsteps could no longer be heard amidst the merriment outside. 

When he was sure that she was without earshot, Nightshade lunged for the plate of food like a starved dog, devouring every inch of edible surface. His head was swimming, overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells that assaulted his mind and body. A century and a half of eating dissected Morian flesh and distilled water from ooze—beholding nothing but shades of red and gray on the daily—had left him yearning for change, and that sudden change was wracking his body in agony. Even the air, which was cool and nourishing compared to the suffocating ash fields, sent shock waves through his system. 

And the voices, so many voices. The people on this island—human and dragon—had such thoughts, such feelings, such fears shared between each other, but Nightshade could feel their touch in his mind. He clenched his teeth, trying to master the assault of consciousness that filled his head; in the Wastes there were no living souls to talk to, except for Antaris, but Berk was so… alive!

Amidst his convulsions, one thought emerged above all the others as the stone in his pocket grew hot. 

“What? I didn’t know that I would react like this!” Nightshade cried to the empty forge. “You have the luxury of not having to eat, or breathe… I will recover soon, just give me a minute… * cough * unless you feel like helping?”

“What do you mean you’re concealing my eyes?! I’d trade that for not having my mind assaulted by everyone's thoughts any day! Gods…”

Nightshade staggered to his feet, still picking the meat from a bone as he looked around. As interesting as it was to talk to Valka that was unplanned, though not unwelcome. This entire island was fascinating, the inventions by this so-called dragon chief inspired, and he would be out there exploring if he hadn’t immediately been so violently ill upon arrival. A table in the far corner of the forge caught his eye; sauntering over, Nightshade’s eyes widening in interest. Strewn across the surface were numerous pieces of parchment, sketches for a multitude of ideas: water pipes, feeding stations, a strange shield that opened up and shot projectiles, etc. 

His eyes trailed over another drawing pinned to the wall, an elaborate tailfin with an interlocking gear system to a one foot pedal. The Night Fury from earlier—Toothless, was it?”—reemerged in his head.

“He knew you could kill him for taking his flight… and he made you a fin anyway.” Nightshade muttered to himself. “Fascinating.”

His eyes trailed on a raised stack of pages; shifting the pile, Nightshade grinned slyly. A small, leather bound journal was lying on the table, and as he began rifling through its pages, Nightshade realized that it was Hiccup’s personal sketchbook of all his inventive ideas. Some of them were the same as the ones on the table, but others looked like they had been written some time ago; a recipe for flammable gel, something called Gronckle iron, and page upon page of dragon notes. Most interesting was a breakdown of a small cylindrical object, with interlocking gears and lens holders to project… Well, I’ll be . 

Nightshade found himself enraptured as he continued to read, a hunger for knowledge rising up with every sentence, every diagram. A human came up with all this? Such a creative mind… not unlike himself, many years ago.

Nightshade giggled to himself, slipping the journal in his pocket; what kind of Night Fury would he be if he passed up getting his hands on such wealth? He had to make it a point to reward Hiccup for his ingenuity, whether he willingly provided his knowledge or not. In any case, he should make his exit before Valka returns. Thankfully for Nightshade, the forge had a back entrance.

Nightshade unlatched the back door, and stepped out into the snow… straight into the gaze of a Stormcutter dragon, who growled in his face. For the love of… hey, it’s been a while since I’ve seen one of you! Nightshade laughed soberly; although his condition was already improving rapidly, he had evidently been too distracted to notice a four-winged dragon guarding the forge. 

The owl-faced drake cocked its head. “And where do you think you’re going so soon?” he purred.

“Ummm, away?” The sarcasm left Nightshade's mouth before it occurred to him that a regular human probably should not answer like this. Geez, I’m out of practice, he thought. 

The Stormcutter stiffened, leaning up. Oh, hear we go…

“That is not possible… How did you know I asked a question?” the dragon demanded.

“I get that a lot.” Nightshade stated, raising his hands in submission. “I take it you are Valka's dragon? I swear it was an accident.”

“I know that, but that is the least of my concerns now. Who are you, and how can you understand me?”

Nightshade made direct eye contact with the Stormcutter. “I suppose I can tell you the truth. Here, smell my hand, and you’ll realize just how unique I am.”

The brown dragon leaned forward inches away from Nightshade’s outstretched palm. Taking a strong whiff, the Stormcutter’s eyes widened in a mixture of shock and horror. 

“You… you are not human, you cannot be.” the dragon hissed, reeling backward. “Talk. Or I will sound the alarm.”

Nightshade pursed his lips. “Oh, come now. If I was really such a danger I could have wreaked havoc already — and yet there I was, having a respectful chat with your rider just now. Do you fear me… Cloudjumper?”

The Stormcutter’s yellow eyes widened in surprise. “Shouldn’t I? You reek of death, and yet I smell something… familiar. Almost like—”

“Like I was just talking to a Night Fury a moment ago?” Nightshade quipped. “I suppose you’re thinking of Toothless, right?”

“There it is again!” Cloudjumper snarled, unsheathing his claws. “How do you know my name without asking, or the name of my Alpha who has been gone on a journey for weeks?”

Nightshade laughed. “Well, I probably shouldn’t spoil the first one, we definitely do not have all day for storytime. But just trust me when I say that Toothless is alive and well… although he could be in potentially dire straits.”

“Fine.” The Stormcutter relaxed, though his gaze remained hard. “I will not interrupt the celebrations by causing a scene, but you will talk. What ‘dire straits’ could Toothless be in?”

Nightshade ran a hand through his hair. “He may or may not have shown up at my door with a female Night Fury, asking for my help to defeat a possible dragon hunter fleet that may or may not exist.”

Cloudjumper cocked his head. “Dragon hunters? Now that is interesting… he left because a female Night Fury showed up here, with a similar request.”

“Well? Clearly I make a little sense!” Nightshade chuckled, leaning against the back wall of Gobber’s forge. “I turned them down, of course. Without proof of said fleet, it's not exactly worth risking my neck…”

“And what if I told you that the fleet did exist? That it was here not even three days past, and it sails south. To a place called Mystholm.”

Nightshade’s hazel eyes suddenly shimmered, replaced by glowing golden light and narrow slits where the pupils should be. Cloudjumper could not help gazing in disbelief. Then the non-human spoke, and his voice rang with an unnatural air.

“Then it is true, and they were not so foolish after all. I will make a deal with you, Cloudjumper. You keep our meeting to yourself, ask no more questions about my being or how I got here, how I can understand you or that you ever saw me on this island at all. And I will promise you two things; one, I swear to make sure that Toothless returns safe and sound. Two, I will return and give Berk a great gift, one in equal value to the life of peace that has been built here. Are we agreed?”

The Stormcutter paused for a moment, then nodded. “Agreed, but only because I believe that I do not have the strength to challenge you, whatever you are. And when you return, you return with time for an explanation as well.”

Golden eyes glittered under the dragon’s shadow. “Fair enough.”

A short time later, Nightshade found himself unceremoniously dropped at the edge of Berk’s forest. Waving goodbye to the four-winged dragon that had brought him, he smiled to himself; A pity I cannot stay and chat, Stormcutters are such clever dragons. 

He retrieved his greatsword from its hiding place under a convincingly arranged pile of vegetation. The rich smell of pine brought on another wave of nausea, and Nightshade sat down for a moment. He hadn’t smelled living plants in over a hundred years… Cinder would’ve loved this place.

How much would’ve been different if he hadn’t grasped that straw of hope?

He thought back to Valka’s words; on the one hand, it made sense why some would choose optimism over hopelessness, especially when there were lives to lose. But these humans regularly confronted the shortness of their lives, the desire to fill their days with memories and experiences before the years of youth slipped away. Did such things really matter when life had no end, when the long march of time far surpassed the richness of living? Even now, back out in the world, the old king found himself afraid. At one time Nightshade had been afraid of death, to lose all Night Furies and all the world to a darkness that he blamed himself for creating. But he had considered the struggle worth it… at least until he survived, forced to confront the magic that had taken root within him. And in a moment of fear, he had abandoned the one thing that could have given him solace. 

The image of a beautiful Night Fury, with shining scales and bright amber eyes, filled Nightshade with remorse. A single tear hit the ground as he sat there, allowing himself to be overwhelmed by the centuries, the voices, the dark anticipation of unlived life and the horror of that which he had lived already.

And then Nightshade laughed out loud to no one, embracing the folly of it all. Why did it matter what pain the future held, if it had ever mattered at all? Was the will to endure not enough, the promises of memory and love just as guaranteed as death and decay? He was afraid, and yet he found himself wishing no longer to hide from the unknown. After all, the only way for nothing terrible to happen to you in life is to be dead. And Nightshade couldn’t die, so why not live?

Standing up and taking one last look at the faraway village of Berk, Nightshade smiled. So much hope wrapped up in such a strange place, unlike any other in the world; humans and dragons living—no, thriving—together, who would’ve thought? He would definitely make it a point to return here, albeit with some compensation for the journal in his pocket and the Stormcutter who let him remain unnoticed. Pulling Antaris from his jacket, Nightshade gazed hard into the flow of amber light.

“Well, old friend, I guess we’re finally going home. I suppose you were right, I could not stay away forever.”

Nightshade’s face twitched, a reaction to thoughts that were not his own. “No, I haven’t thought about what I’ll say to Holly… If I had known, I would have set my fears aside… In any case, she deserves the apology.”

“If she even lets me deliver it.”

The stone flashed, and the forest was empty.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: Loss

Large sections of Aylan’s forest were now aflame, the smoke rapidly filling the air as Talon navigated his way through the woods, his warriors in tow. Finally the sky was beginning to darken, but there would be no way to tell how many losses the Night Furies had suffered until the battle’s end. In any case, he had more pressing concerns; hatchlings were few and far between on Seregon, but even the decades of conflict between their two colonies would not distract Talon from what he deemed his duty. No harm would come to a single egg, not while he had the strength to protect them. And even if they all had been moved, the humans would die anyway.

If it had been under any other set of circumstances, he would almost find Aylan beautiful; the abundance of life, the luminescent plants whose glow was just beginning to emerge, were wondrous if not somewhat unnatural. Talon despised the magic that grew them, but could not fault the Night Furies for wanting to live in such a paradise. But the harmony of the forest was broken by the steadily growing sounds of combat, and Talon braced himself; they could not be far from the island’s edge, and the hatching grounds. 

They emerged from the trees into an outcropping of sharp rocks, dotted by the occasional geyser and pools of steaming water; a perfect place for rearing eggs, if not for the swarm of dragon hunters that were strewn about, attempting to surround a few Night Furies who remained. Talon recognized Ash immediately, though he had not seen her in some time; her bright, sapphire eyes were unmistakable. She was in the midst of firing a blast to knock off a few warriors who had just emerged from over the rock’s edge, their grappling hooks splintering as they vanished over the side.

Talon sprang into action, a volley of arrows just missing his belly as he sunk his teeth into the closest dragon hunter. The sight of several large, scarred Night Furies emerging out of the forest caused a commotion among the hunters, who—although experienced and battle-hardened—were woefully unprepared for the dragon’s savagery. The Seregon Night Furies tore them limb from limb, with no regard for personal safety or injury as the human’s numbers quickly began to thin. Soon someone shouted a call to retreat, and the dragon hunters frantically began to race for their lines. As his tail wrapped around the neck of one hunter, Talon looked up at the mess of fleeing humans, and his confidence suddenly faltered. One of the dragon hunters in the process of fleeing was laden; a large, burlap sack was slung over his shoulder as he seized a line and vanished over the cliff side. Fucking hell.

“Ash!” he shouted, trying to get her attention. She looked up, seemingly amazed to see the Seregon Night Fury, but Talon could not finish the rest of his sentence. A great hammer struck him in the jaw, snapping his head back as a tooth went flying. Talon was startled, then growled as he swung around, a burly dragon hunter in the process of drawing his hammer back.

The hunter never got another chance. First his arms were severed, then he convulsed as Talon seized his body; a small stream of plasma left his jaws as he cauterized the warrior from head to toe, the charred corpse landing with a thud as Talon looked up again. 

But the hunters were gone.

“Talon?” Ash cried, making her way to him. She was limping, a large gash opened on her back leg. “Is that you? I didn’t think… It's been a long time.”

Spitting out blood, he snarled. “We don’t have time for pleasantries! I tried to warn you, one of the hunters was carrying a sack! They took your eggs!”

Ash’s eyes widened, and she looked up in a panic at the mess of grappling hooks on the cliff. “But we moved them all… I thought we got them all!”

“Evidently not.” Talon growled. “But no doubt they have spears and arrows ready to fire from their ships the moment we fly over that cliff. We’ll have to go around, attack from the water.”

“You're right… Talon?”

“What?”

“Thank you.” Ash stammered. “I wasn’t sure you would come… but I knew if anyone from Seregon would, it would be you.”

Talon paused, then offered a thin smile, his jaw dripping with blood. “Your welcome… we should catch up later. But now we need to move.”

The few Night Furies that had remained with Ash gathered with them, along with the now five Seregon dragons. But before they could so much as turn to fly, the sky reverberated with an unnatural, almost demonic wail. A siren sound—not unlike the shrieking of dragons, or the grinding of metal—erupted through the air with such volume that all the Night Furies flinched, their sensitive ears lowered. And both Talon and Ash looked at each other with fear, for there were few things on earth that could make such a sound.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is.” Talon grimaced, as the wail continued.

“The dragonstone… But why?!” Ash responded. “Surely the hunters couldn’t have made it all the way to the elder’s grotto?”

“What else could make that sound?!” Talon shouted. “If they take the stone, they could kill us all! And your elders are old and weak, they cannot defend it even from a small group!”

Ash lowered her head, thinking quickly. “I fear that you're right… Even if the stone can’t kill, it could do magic just as bad… I’ll go!”

“What?” Talon looked shocked. “But your leg… you could be vulnerable in such a tight space!”

“Someone has too!” Ash shouted back. “And Moonlight’s there!” With that, she took to the air, followed by her Aylan friends, and turned to head into the heart of the forest.

“Wait!” 

Talon turned to his warriors. “You three, follow them and make sure they arrive to the dragonstone. You two will come with me, and we’ll make for the eggs. Go!”

The three raced to catch up with Ash while Talon and his two guards entered the forest in a different direction, hugging the treeline to reach open air. He hoped to ascend some ways into the forest so that the ships would not be able to shoot them down, and they could strike them from above. But how to get the eggs back… Talon’s thoughts raced as the three dragons soared through the trees. They could be on any ship, but how to get on one in one piece would be difficult if not impossible. But the attempt had to be made nonetheless. 

About a dozen dragon hunters could be seen at a distance, likely a few stragglers that survived escaping from the beach, and Talon’s face hardened. They could make short work of them.

As the three Night Furies swooped down upon the hunters, a few others drew bows and fired upon them. A dragonroot arrow flew beside Talon’s ear as he landed full force on one human, swiping at another with a wing. He could see a few of the humans standing back as their compatriots were slaughtered, bows raised. 

But before Talon could muster a blast to incinerate them, a shining blade severed one of their heads. 

Another human male stepped out from behind a large tree, strangely dressed compared to the hunters; a long, scaly coat and matching boots, his raven black hair spiked and messy. The other two archers turned in shock towards the new threat, but it was too late; the man kicked the closest one with such force that the hunter was lifted off his feet, crashing into his fellow in a pile of limbs. The dragon hunter lay there coughing blood, watching his fellow parted at the waist with one stroke of a large greatsword. And in a flash he too was silenced, his neck snapped by a booted foot.

The dark-haired human grinned with elation, but Talon cared little for his satisfaction. His strength was astounding, but inconsequential; he was human, and therefore would die. 

Talon quickly shot a plasma bolt at the man, who in a flash turned his back and threw the greatsword behind him. The blast made contact with the blade with a ring, the flame fizzling out as etched runes glowed blue. 

The man stood up, facing the three Seregon Night Furies with a look of childlike curiosity on his face. It was then that Talon’s heart missed a beat. His eyes were golden and glowing, his face a shadow, and his smile revealed strangely elongated teeth.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” the human posed, fake innocence sounding in his voice. “You are warriors, are you not? Make the kill.”

One of the other Night Furies began to emit a whistle, but Talon stretched both wings outward to block the two of them. “Wait!”

“Who… what are you? Some kind of hybrid? Or a man of sorcery?”

“Oh, son of Seregon…” the human chuckled. “I am even less of a man than you. But if you choose to believe me, I mean you no harm. It seems you have bigger problems anyway.” He gestured to the human corpses. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Talon was struck by his tone; the man—no, evidently not—had understood every word. How did he know of Seregon? And such an eye color… Gold was a rare hue, especially among Night Furies, but for humans it was impossible. “We were making our way to the fleet offshore, they have taken some of Aylan’s eggs.”

“Really? Then someone must retrieve them! But no offense…” the man gestured with his greatsword. “You three warriors look a little worse for wear, and surely you will be outnumbered. How about this, you all go and rejoin the others, fight from the sky… And I’ll retrieve the eggs.”

“And why should we trust you?! For all we know you are one of them, or some other dark creature! Prove that you can be believed, if you can!” 

For a moment they stood there, three Seregon Night Furies opposite this strange individual, blood still dripping from his greatsword. The non-human looked at them for a moment before speaking, leaning on his weapon.

“You, the leader… you are of Seregon’s ruling family aren’t you?” he questioned.

Talon’s expression revealed nothing. “I am.”

“I thought so. Your eyes are familiar… You look like him, you know.”

“Like who?”

“ Runar. ” 

The man’s eyes glowed brighter, and he walked forward, the blade of the greatsword trailing in the dirt behind him. “Not when he died, no… You look like Runar when he was young and noble… when I first knew him.”

Talon stiffened, suddenly enraptured by the golden gaze that had trapped his vision. “How do you know about Runar?” he whispered.

The man stopped, a sick smile crossing his features. “Because I called him ‘brother’ once… But I’m sure you know that, don’t you. You know exactly who I am… guess.”

“You cannot be…” one of the other Night Furies stammered, his strength forgotten. “Lord Nightshade?”

“Right.” the man said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Here I am, home again. I’m sure we will be seeing much of each other, but for now it looks like you have a battle to win. Go, send every ship you can to the sea bed. I will retrieve the eggs.”

Talon could not believe what he was hearing, but then Nightshade turned away, and he snapped out of whatever trance he had found himself in. Together, the three Night Furies of Seregon found themselves lowering their heads before him.

“Oh, and Talon?”

The Night Fury looked up at the man—no, a king—whose back was to him. 

“Enjoy the hunt.”

A strange feeling began to burn within Talon, a crazed mixture of pride and rage, at being addressed by such a creature who—if he dared to believe it—had nigh-fathered their race. He stood, hurling his head back in an unholy shriek that echoed through the trees, joined by his two guards. And with that, the Night Furies of Seregon took to the air once more, seeking out Toothless and the packs he was leading to battle.

Nightshade stood alone, basking in the moment he had not deigned to imagine or want. These trees, this earth, the very air stirred within him feelings of nostalgia and pride. He was home again… in his brother’s favorite place.

“Alright,” he said to himself. “Finding a set of dragon eggs shouldn’t be too difficult… for you. If you would be so kind…”

Antaris hummed with energy, and Nightshade vanished in a flash of amber light. For a moment the forest was silent, the light buzzing of flies already beginning to descend upon the freshly fallen dead. 

But then another flash of light occurred, and Nightshade landed lightly on his feet, a burlap sack in his arms.

“There we are… yes, alright, no more magical requests for the day. Let’s see…” He gently set the sack on the ground and undid the rope at the top, easing it open and peering inside. 

Nightshade’s face fell, and his hands tightened around the fabric. 

Taking a deep breath, he stood, pulling the amber dragonstone from his pocket and setting it on the ground — then laid the blood-streaked greatsword next to it.

“Watch these for a moment, Antaris… I’ll be back soon.”

Nightshade walked through the woods, the sounds of battle still echoing across Aylan. The last rays of sunlight faded over the horizon, and the sky darkened. And as the shriek of hundreds of dragons began to ring through the air, two golden orbs shone brightly through the dark forest.

A few minutes earlier… 

Ash tried hard not to cry out as she flew with as much speed as she could muster, the Night Furies following behind struggling to keep up with the young female. She couldn’t tell if her leg was still bleeding or not, but it felt like hell nonetheless; a well-placed swing that she had been unable to dodge in time. Her mind was a mixture of thoughts and emotions, panic and rage intertwined. A part of her felt sickly gratified that she had been proven right, that she wasn’t crazy, but the feeling paled in response to the carnage that was steadily growing around her. She had no doubt that with the sky rapidly darkening, the Night Furies would quickly have the better of the battle. But how much had been lost already, how many lives destroyed? And Toothless was out there somewhere, bringing the fight to the fleet. If he got hurt, she would never forgive herself.

And Ash hated herself for what had just transpired, even though her heart had leapt upon seeing Talon and his Seregon dragons. How could she have been so careless? They had double checked, triple checked… and yet an unknown number of eggs were now on some dragon hunter ship. Under normal circumstances she would’ve never imagined sending a Seregon Night Fury to protect Aylan’s eggs, but these were not normal circumstances. 

After all, Ash had gotten what she wanted; a start at Night Furies fighting as one. And this battle did nothing to comfort her, but Ash had no choice but to trust Talon. She had bigger problems to deal with right now, anyway. The entrance to the grotto was fast approaching, and Ash’s heart sank. She could already see bodies strewn about, both Night Fury and human; the dragon hunters must’ve been able to send groups from the far end of the beach inland. By the stars, could this fleet have been any bigger?

Ash’s hunting party flew into the grotto and beheld a scene of absolute wreckage. The great tree still stood, strangely peaceful amidst the dead hunters and dragons at its base, but beyond that it was a mess. Dawn and the other elders were slain, surrounded by dozens of human bodies; they had gone down fighting, in spite of their age. One Night Fury remained, contending with four or five dragon hunters who were still standing. Ash watched in horror as Moonlight, her murky eyes beginning to faintly glow in the dark, struck a hunter in the neck with her paw. Her brittle claws snapped against his plate armour, but the shards opened his throat as he collapsed. Ash didn’t even make it a few feet towards the tree before another hunter rushed forward, skewering the blind Night Fury from behind with a dragonroot spear.

“MOONLIGHT!”

The ancient Night Fury roared in anguish, turning with such force that the spear was wrenched from the hunter’s grip. With the weapon still protruding through her, Moonlight lunged for the human’s head, finishing him. A few shots flew over Ash’s shoulder as she fell to the ground, the energy sapped from her body. 

A few more humans fell, but to the horror of all the Night Furies present, the lone survivor had reached the base of the tree; plunging an axe into its side, the emerald dragonstone was loosened, and the lone hunter grasped it firmly. All the dragons paused, suddenly frozen with fear as the hunter turned around, a crazed look in his eyes.

“It’s beautiful…” he whispered.

Still dazed, Ash watched as the dragon hunter suddenly began to shake; his brown hair began to fade into grey, then white. Blisters began popping up on his exposed skin, which dried and wrinkled. The human gasped as his body suddenly began to show the age of innumerable years, his bones becoming brittle as his teeth decayed in a matter of seconds. Finally, the corpse collapsed in a pile of bone and dust. 

Kemenar fell to the ground, shining brightly.

The sound of heavy retching snapped Ash out of her daydream. In a flash, she flew over to Moonlight’s side, the dragonroot spear still protruding between her ribs.

“Moonlight… oh, no, no, no…” Ash stammered, completely at a loss on what to do; should she try and remove it? Would it matter?

The ancient drake coughed, a blood bubble popping at the corner of her mouth as Moonlight sniffed the air.

“Welcome home, child… See? You were right.” The old Night Fury struggled to speak, her voice raspy and labored, but filled with love.

Ash looked around in a panic, but the Night Furies that had come with her offered no solace; they stood at a distance, their heads lowered. Even the three Seregon Night Furies stood motionless, uttering not a sound. The green light of Kemenar caught her eye, and Ash found herself instinctively reaching out her tail for it.

“Don’t… *cough* Do not attempt it, dear girl.” Moonlight begged, sensing her ward’s intent. “He won’t heal me… I asked him not to.”

“But why?! You can’t, I need you!” Ash cried, nuzzling Moonlight’s head as though begging for permission. “You can’t die… I won’t let you…”

“Do not fear for me… my time has come.” Moonlight’s breathing was beginning to become even more labored, and her body was shaking. “Ash… my dear child… you have grown so much.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

Ash choked on a sob, unable to form a reply. Avoiding the spear as best she could, the young Night Fury curled around her elder, as though holding on tight could somehow prevent her passing. 

The sudden echo of a multitude of wings startled her—and the Night Furies who kept watch—and she dared to look up. Amidst the rising smoke the stars were now fully visible, at least without the growing number of shadows that crossed the sky from the north. A great number of Night Furies had arrived, and somewhere in the back of her mind Ash knew that the Watchers had joined the battle. 

And she no longer cared.

“Ash!”

The Night Furies in the grotto were startled as a large dragon descended from the horde above: a female of striking beauty, her amber eyes framed by dual trails of blood across her eyelids. Holly landed in front of the group—both the Aylan and Seregon Night Furies in awe of her grace—but she had eyes only for Ash.

“Ash, are you… oh, no.” Her words faltered, and the Lady of the Watchers stood before Ash as she cradled her dying elder.

Moonlight gasped for breath, a centuries-old scent crossing her snout. “H—... Holly?” she croaked.

Holly’s eyes widened in terror. 

“Moonlight?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“My queen… you died… how can this…” 

Moonlight couldn’t finish her sentence; her body shuddered, and the elder of Aylan breathed her last.

Ash felt the body beside her go limp, and shut her eyes tightly, refusing to believe it. A faint cry, which then built into a scream, erupted from the young dragoness. Her wails echoed throughout the grotto and into the forest, reaching the ears of the Watchers above who flew into battle. For a moment no one moved, the only sounds being Ash’s cries and the faint battle, which seemed a world away.

After what felt like an eternity, Ash felt warm scales nudge her, attempting to put themselves between her and Moonlight. “No, please…” she squirmed, looking up.

Holly stood above her, and without saying a word, gently pushed back the young female with surprising strength. Ash was separated from Moonlight, and before she could say anything, she found herself wrapped in the queen’s embrace — who shuddered in agony.

As she shook, Ash saw something remarkable; the three Seregon dragons had lowered their entire bodies to the earth, their wings outstretched as they bowed before the fallen dragon. After that, she did not attempt to fight back, allowing herself to be overcome by her grief.

A violent flash of amber light snapped all the Night Furies to alert; Holly spun her head around in a flash, and the Seregon dragons leapt up, teeth bared. But what they saw was utterly confusing. The earth next to Kemenar—which just a moment ago had been barren—now was cluttered with four black, neatly arranged dragon eggs. The dragons stared in disbelief, and Ash suddenly recalled her meeting with Talon.

“What on earth…”

The air erupted with another flash of light, and all the Night Furies were dazzled in bright amber light. A shining amber gemstone was now hovering above Kemenar; waves of magic flowing through the air around it, as though the air had been sprinkled with glittering sand that folded around itself. Ash felt Holly’s wings around her loosen in shock, and she looked up at the elder Night Fury. 

In a strange way, her eyes were the spitting image of the dragonstone’s light.

“Antaris!” Holly cried, seemingly in disbelief. “You’re here… but that can only mean…”

One more flash of light stunned the Lady of the Watchers into silence. Next to the eggs—and the emerald dragonstone, still glowing brightly—lay a familiar silver greatsword, human blood streaked across its surface.

Elsewhere…

The sky was alight with innumerable stars, the only clouds being the haze of smoke that rose from the burning forest edges around Aylan. And although the dragon hunter fleet had sustained noticeable losses, the vast majority of it remained untouched, wrapping around the non-mountainous sides of the island like a clamshell. Dragon hunters on every ship ran to and fro, ballistas and arrows aimed for the sky as their daylight advantage ceased to be. Their dragon adversaries could no longer be seen, and the steady beat of wings was beginning to grow in the sky to a thundering swell; the fleet was frightfully unaware of the reinforcements that were now flying over the crescent peak, yet they prepared for battle nonetheless.

Some ship captains were evidently more willing to brave the darkness than others, however, as the ships moored at the base of the cliffs—on which the hatching grounds rested over the top—were slowly turning around. The captain of these vessels, after sustaining heavy losses for such a risky venture, had decided to make for safe waters as soon as the last hunter had hit the deck from the rappelling ropes. Despite the number of men they had lost, the mood on the ship was one of silent celebration; the sack of obsidian dragon eggs, now nestled in the captain’s quarters, were priceless beyond measure. No hunter of any age had seen such eggs before, and dreams of great coffers of gold filled many a hunter’s head as the ships turned south, attempting to situate themselves at the back of the greater fleet.

The ship captain—a large, burly Viking with brown hair and a face tattoo—looked up nervously, sensing that the skies were steadily filling with enemies. “Signal the other two ships! Snuff out your torches, and navigate with the stars so they can’t dive bomb us! Quick!”

The cry went out across the decks of the ships, every hunter reaching to snuff the nearest flame. The decks of the three vessels went dark as they made for more open waters, and the dragon hunters all collectively took a breath. Hopefully, they could still get some good shots at the silhouettes crossing the sky without fire being reigned on them from above. The captain rubbed his hands, slowly opening the door to look on his spoils in paranoia. The burlap sack, however, was not beside his chest.

“What?”

Bodies were suddenly thrown in all directions as the entire vessel shook, the sound of splintering wood and loose objects flying about in the dark. The captain crashed into the wall, groping in the dark for his sword as a scream rang out. Looking up, he was met with the sight of one of his men—who had attempted to light a torch—being dragged off the side of the ship by a humongous shadow. The crew was in a state of utter chaos, sailors disregarding their leader’s command and lighting their torches, frantically searching the sea for any sign of their assailant.

“Steady, men! Draw your arrows, one of them is out there already!” the captain shouted, grabbing the railing to hoist himself up. Looking out, he could make out the sight of one of the other ships beginning to list. Had it been struck at the same time?

The Viking was suddenly illuminated in faint golden light, helping his eyes adjust to see what remained of his crew, who stared at him in horror. Realizing that the light was not due to any nearby torch, he turned to face two large glowing orbs. Stepping back, the hunter realized he was mere inches away from death, and yet his ego could not allow him to die without the last word.

“Flee, demon!” he spat as he lunged forward with his sword overhead, bringing it down between the dragon’s eyes. “Those 5 eggs are mine!”

The blade shattered against scales in the dark, the vibration sailing up his arm as he dropped the now-useless hilt. The Viking stared in silence, beholding the great shadow with golden eyes.

The shadow’s lips parted, revealing pearly white fangs.

“Four.” a gravelly voice sounded from the dark. “You broke one.”

The hunter never got the chance to scream.

Meanwhile…

Toothless twisted in the air, hovering high above Aylan’s forest as all the fighting Night Furies assembled at his back. He thought the moment would never come, but here it was at last. The burning ribbon of flame across the forest edge illuminated the closest ships, and despite the fleet’s hasty attempts to snuffle their largest flames, the fleet was still very noticeable from high up. The dark sky beheld a field of bright stars that glittered across the sea, the silhouette of the numerous boats now a painfully tempting target. 

It had been a long time since the Alpha had felt true rage burning, but now he was beyond reason now; they had been fighting and flying for hours now, with no idea how many Night Furies were lost or how many were injured. And this beautiful forest, which had been the first incredible thing Toothless had seen upon arriving in Mystholm, was now going up in smoke because of human carelessness. 

For the first time, he found himself glad that Hiccup had not come. 

A shriek behind him caused Toothless to turn, along with the hundreds of dragons that had massed with him; Gaining some altitude so he could see what had caused the sound, he stared. A great multitude of tiny glowing dots—no, silhouettes—were spilling out from over Aylan’s crescent mountain, heading straight for them. His heart leapt, and Toothless found himself smiling; the Watchers had finally arrived, and at just the right time. Taking a deep breath, he turned in the air, facing the multitude of ships below.

“Strike!” he shrieked, as loud as he could muster.

At once, the whole mass of Night Furies turned downward, a low whistle building into the tremendous wail so loud that every hunter was forced to grab their ears in anguish. The torrent of plasma blasts lit up the great fleet in a splendor of flame, the screams of pain indistinguishable from the blaze that now roared across the sea. Gliding through the air, Toothless could see that in one pass a good third of the fleet was now engulfed. It would take many more shots to sink them all, but even with the hail of nets and arrows there was nothing that could prevent their victory now. His focus was so enraptured on the firestorm beneath him that he barely registered another Night Fury streaking towards him, until he found himself just inches away from crashing mid-air into… Talon?

“Shit!” Toothless exclaimed, forcing his wings forward to stop himself as his followers sailed past him, no longer needing coordination to strike in the darkness. “Where did you come from? I thought you went to help Ash!”

“I did! She made for the elder’s grotto after we fought off some hunters. I was just about to go retrieve some stolen eggs when… well…”

Was Toothless imagining things, or did the Seregon Night Fury look… afraid? No, that wasn’t the right word, but noticeably nervous. “What is it? Spit it out!”

The ruby-eyed dragon looked him dead in the eye. “We have a situation.”

“What on earth do you mean? What about the eggs?!” Toothless shouted. “If you aren’t retrieving them, then who is?!”

Another explosion caught his eye, causing Toothless to turn; the horde of Night Furies had not come around for another blast yet, even though they were massing again in the sky. Instead, the boats on the outer edge of the fleet were erupting one by one in singular blasts. Strange; one Night Fury couldn’t fire a plasma blast strong enough to explode a ship in one shot. 

He turned to head towards the explosions as another ship cracked open, sparks shooting up into the air.

“Toothless, wait!” Talon demanded, following in hot pursuit.

The air rushed past his ears as Toothless picked up speed, firing a blast of his own just for the heck of it. As his fireball snapped the mast of a ship below him, the Alpha kept his eyes fixed on the growing trail of destroyed ships. Who could possibly be attacking from this direction, if both Aylan and the Watchers were now massing overhead for another strike? As he soared through the air, dodging projectiles, the vessel a short ways in front of Toothless suddenly ballooned outwards in a ball of fire. A gigantic shadow streaked through the fire, a shriek sending chills down Toothless’s spine, and he realized then what Talon had been trying to warn him about.

The Night Fury was impossibly large, larger than Toothless had imagined capable for a member of their species to grow. Both him and Talon—fully grown adults—were dwarfed by the beast, whose wings stretched past the length of the ship it had set aflame. Its traditional spines were longer, the ridges more sharpened and numerous across its body. The ears stuck straight up, the facial nubs more spiked as though the head was adorned by some sort of primal crown. Bright golden eyes shone with fury in the dark, and the great Night Fury flew straight at the closest ship with a cry of rage. 

A harpoon fired out into the night, striking the drake square in the chest; much to Toothless’s shock, the spear clanged off the scales as though it had struck a sheet of steel. Toothless and Talon had passed the Night Fury in a flash, hearing the sound of crashing wood as they made for higher altitude. Looking back, Toothless saw that the creature had slammed directly into the side of a ship with enough force to throw the entire vessel onto its side; its hull had ruptured down the middle. 

“That's what I meant!” Talon shouted as they regrouped with the swarm of Night Furies above. “Can you believe it?! He lives!”

“Nightshade has returned! Look!”

The swarm was overtaking with gasps and yells of shock and confusion. But with the fleet now brightly illuminated, every Night Fury in the air could see the great dragon tearing his way through dragon hunter ships like a wolf amongst sheep. At once a great cry arose from the Night Furies, and they began to descend again. But Toothless found himself hovering in the air, letting his comrades rush forward without him. 

As the great multitude of Night Furies descended upon the fleet, a twisted sensation began to grow in the Alpha’s heart. The battle was won, but the thrill had vanished, to be replaced by a sick revulsion for the blood that now stained his claws. And as he watched Nightshade pulverize another ship in one shot, their conversation back in his cave came back to him. Toothless realized, then, part of what the king of the Night Furies had been so afraid of.

Not that he would lose everything, but that he could take everything. And Toothless wasn’t sure if there was a dragon alive who could stop him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: A Bittersweet Reunion

One day had passed since the dragon hunter fleet was incinerated, the last human warriors hunted down in the forest or fought to the death on the beach. Almost a third of Aylan was a complete ruin; the fires had died out eventually, but a noticeable section of the forest was a field of dead trees and ash piles. The wreckage of the fleet filled the water around the island, a still-smoking graveyard of smashed ships and drifting corpses. The combined strength of Aylan’s dragons and the Watchers had been more than a match for the hunters in the cover of night, but no cheers were had over the victory. Over three hundred Night Furies had been killed, and an egg smashed; against the complete destruction of their foe it seemed trivial, but for Aylan it was disastrous. 

The survivors had turned to Toothless for leadership, and he reciprocated, setting the dragons to work searching for survivors and disabling any large weapons left behind. The Watchers—under Holly’s direction—scoured the oceans for food to feed the debilitated island, a welcome prospect for all the Night Furies who lived there. 

A great shadow emerged from the sheet of grey clouds, giant wings dispersing the smoke as Nightshade silently glided upon the fleet wreckage. He had busied himself checking for any human survivors, but in all honesty the Night Fury was doing nothing more than just passing the time. He landed on the hull of an overturned ship, the wood creaking under his weight. Nightshade looked around, but there were no signs of life, just the drifting of wreckage all around. 

Peering into the water, he briefly studied his own reflection; it had been such a long time since Nightshade had assumed his true form, and yet somehow his body had continued to grow. Perhaps that was part of his fate, the dragonstone’s magic keeping him fit and evolving for the remainder of his uncounted years; maybe some would regard it as a blessing, but Nightshade would rather forget it.

Looking up, he could see the tiny shapes of various Night Furies flying above and around Aylan. With the bloodlust of the battle a fading memory, the ancient dragon now found himself extremely uncomfortable around them; he knew full well that his reception would be mixed, but Nightshade hadn’t expected some of the reactions to his presence to feel so strange. Older Night Furies would sometimes nod as he passed, others choosing to turn their backs in anger, but the younger dragons were the worst. They approached him as though he were a figure of worship, plying him with questions and fighting with each other just to catch a glimpse of him as he flew by. The sensation of being so warmly welcomed unsettled Nightshade, who did not share their enthusiasm. 

Or perhaps it was because their reactions were unimportant to him; there was only one Night Fury whose opinion of him mattered, and the thought of their meeting filled Nightshade with dread.

But it had to be done. With one beat the great Night Fury took to the air, sailing towards the heart of Aylan. As other Night Furies flew in various directions, the ancient dragon quickly made it to the forest edge. From there Nightshade landed to travel the rest of the way on foot, admiring the trees and mushrooms that still stood. In a century and a half of absence he had not forgotten the beauty of this place, and he was fully confident that the forest would regrow quickly with the presence of a dragonstone. 

Speaking of which, the grotto was perhaps a good place to look for Holly first; and on the off chance that Ash was there, he wanted to pay his respects. As he walked through the trees Nightshade encountered Talon and his Seregon Night Furies—only four of the original twelve that had accompanied him remained—travelling the opposite direction.

“My lord.” Talon nodded as they passed, the other Night Furies nodding as well.

Nightshade stiffened, and he stopped walking. “You don’t have to call me that, Talon.”

“Why not?” The dragon’s ruby eyes—painfully familiar—regarded him with curiosity. “You are a king, are you not? Likely the most powerful dragon in existence.”

“Perhaps,” said Nightshade cooly. “But I don’t rule anymore.”

“That could always change.” Talon replied, and before Nightshade could retort he spoke again. “Where are you off to?”

Nightshade huffed. “I am looking for the Lady of the Watchers… perhaps you have seen her.”

Talon shook his head. “I have not, but we were just about to leave ourselves. We must return to Seregon, inform my father of this battle.”

The ancient Night Fury’s vertical ears twitched. “Father?”

“Yes. Our clan leader, Angalon. Perhaps you remember him.”

Nightshade’s heart skipped a beat.

His eyes widened, and he laughed. “Are you serious? He’s still alive, and to have a young son? Well, it seems he remains spry in his old age…” 

Some of the other Seregon dragons chuckled, and Talon smiled. “Yes, he is still quite strong, and anxious to hear of our progress. We should get going.”

As he unfurled his wings, Nightshade started. “Wait! I have a request.”

Talon cocked his head. “Of course, what is it?”

Nightshade looked at Talon warmly, but firmly. “I have it on good authority that this will not be the last we see of the dragon hunters. They will attack again, and soon… Tell your father I am here, that an old friend wishes to speak with him. We all have much to discuss.”

Talon sighed, then nodded. “I understand… but you understand he will not reconcile with this place without terms?”

“Obviously.” Nightshade replied. 

Without another word, Talon lowered his head, earning an eye roll from the larger dragon. And with that, the warriors of Seregon took to the skies and turned north, heading for home.

Angalon, you old bastard, Nightshade thought to himself. So Runar’s cousin had endured to this day, with no magic to enrich him. Such resilience. Shaking his head, Nightshade continued to walk through the woods, occasionally passing another Night Fury or some small forest creature. The ground leading up to the grotto had been cleared of the fallen, but burns and stains remained in the dirt; Two Night Furies stood at the entrance, but upon seeing the ancient dragon approach, they nervously turned away.

Much to his dissatisfaction, the grotto appeared completely empty. But despite the continuing scorch marks and bloodstains on the ground, the serenity of this place was still exactly like he remembered. Nightshade looked in awe upon the silvery tree in the center, having bloomed large and twisted over the decades, its leaves glittering in the water at its base. The only thing that looked different was at the pond’s edge; Nightshade approached the tree to behold a stunning large blue flower, glittering with specks of sapphire and amethyst. 

Something in the tree flashed with light, and the Night Fury looked up. The emerald dragonstone was back in its usual spot, shining brightly. 

“Hello, Kemenar.” Nightshade started, a warm smile crossing his features. “It’s good to see you.”

The stone shimmered, and unseen feelings of warmth and euphoria washed over him. But with it came visions, almost like watching someone else’s dream; Nightshade could see the events of the past evening that took place in this grotto, and he knew then what the flower was for. His heart clenched in his chest, and the large dragon lowered himself to the ground in silence. 

Gazing upon the flower, Nightshade suddenly felt incredibly alone, and despite the emerald stone resting above him, Nightshade began to speak.

“I remember when I was about to leave for the Wastes, make one last ditch attempt to kill Runar…” he began. “Many Night Furies whispered behind your back and called you a coward for staying on the sidelines, but I knew why. Your place was here, preserving our home.”

“And I thought ‘surely, if any of us should live on, it should be Moonlight. She who above all others had such love for life, for our world.’” Nightshade aimlessly drew circles in the dirt, unable to bring himself to look at the blooming plant.

“You always had such admiration for living things, for the smallest animal as much as your fellow Night Fury. You understood better than any the hopes and wants of other dragons, their fears and their dreams… You should be proud of Ash,” he said. “She is so much like you; stubborn, but gentle, with love for people she doesn’t even know. It gladdens me to know that after all the chaos of years past, you found happiness… raised a family.” 

Nightshade found himself shaking. “It’s what my brother would have wanted. I’m sure you are overjoyed to reunite, wherever you are.”

“I wish I could be there… I’m sorry…”

The ancient Night Fury clenched his teeth, overwhelmed by centuries of pain, repression of his own regrets. Finally he hissed; “In my mind, I wish I never went into that volcano… never pried those stones from the rock. And I never should’ve left!” 

Nightshade stood abruptly, pacing back and forth in a frenzy. “I have much to atone for, much to reconcile! But there is nowhere to go but forward… I swear to you, and to all the dead,” He stopped, staring at the flower as though it was listening to his pledge. “I will run no more. I renew the pledges of my youth, to protect these islands with all my strength! Ash will have her unification, in any way I can make it to be so. I will serve until my services are no longer wanted.” Nightshade drew himself to his full height, towering above the ground. “Be well, Moonlight. Fly among the stars for all time.”

Looking up, he addressed the dragonstone. “Show me Holly, I must see her.” 

Kemenar glowed, and Nightshade’s mind was filled with the image of rock and cliff, Nightmare’s Eyrie visible across the sea. And there she was, addressing what looked like one of her Watchers. Holly was resting on Aylan’s mountain, the side facing away from the island.

“Thank you, Kemenar. I’ll see you soon… Oh, tell Antaris I hope he isn’t causing any trouble at the moment. I’m sure you’re talking.” 

Slyly grinning at the flashing stone, Nightshade took to the air, a sizable cloud of dust and leaves flying about as the great dragon soared out of the grotto. Higher and higher he climbed, flying upside down up and above the crescent arc of the mountain. Reaching the top, he effortlessly rotated upright as he glided down the mountainside. He could make out Holly and her Watcher, his enhanced ears beginning to pick up wisps of their conversation.

“... the gathering of food is substantial, but if Seregon chooses to make a play we must… holy shit.” The Watcher couldn’t miss the giant Night Fury silently landing behind his mistress, his eyes widening in terror at seeing Nightshade up close.

Holly didn’t turn around. “Shade, leave us.” she ordered firmly.

The young Watcher took off as fast as he could. 

Nightshade felt as though his legs had suddenly drowned in molasses, struggling to find the will to walk forward. She hasn’t aged a day… she’s beautiful. Steeling himself, he began to make his way to her side, but found himself flinching as she spoke.

“I received the eggs you retrieved… They’ve been redistributed to their mothers. Antaris was very helpful.”

“Thank you,” He said, but upon reaching her side, Nightshade’s words caught in his throat; he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so afraid, despite deserving what he was about to receive.

“Holly, I—”

He never saw the tail coming; Nightshade’s head snapped back as Holly struck him hard, tasting blood in his mouth. How did she… Upon turning back, Nightshade beheld his former betrothed, her pupils as thin as a sheet of parchment.

“How dare you… how dare you come here now… Were the dragon hunters so much more important that they finally managed to drag you out of your exile?!” Holly screamed. “Did you ever think to ask your precious dragonstone how I was doing, that your hopes of me moving on had amounted to nothing with each decade that passed?! As if my wants were ever yours to decide!”

Nightshade tried his best not to recoil, fully embracing the sting of her words. “I didn’t think—”

“Of course you didn’t! Not that it was of any concern to you for a hundred and fifty years, at least until a couple of hatchlings came begging for the return of our great king! I didn’t realize their pleas meant so much more to you than me begging you to stay!”

Nightshade opened his mouth, but failed to retort as the female lunged at him, seizing his throat in her jaws. His impervious scales resisted her teeth, but her grip was tight; Holly dragged Nightshade down, slamming his head into the rock face without resistance from the much larger Night Fury. Feeling the stone crack beneath his head, Nightshade saw stars, but refused to fight back as Holly stood on top of him, pinning him to the ground as she roared.

“YOU ABANDONED ME! YOU TOOK ANTARIS AND YOU ABANDONED ME!” 

Her fury echoed across the water, surely alarming dragons on the other side of the mountain despite the distance. 

“Who did I have left but you, the one Night Fury that I have done anything to keep at my side?! I fought with you, comforted you, stood by you when no one else did!” She beat him with her paws, careful to keep her claws sheathed against Nightshade’s iron-hard scales. 

“I knew you were afraid—hurt beyond anything I could imagine! BUT I DIDN’T CARE!” Holly pressed hard against Nightshade’s chest, her rage building as her spine began to glow blue. But he said nothing.

“I would have done anything to make you whole, to assure you that all their deaths weren’t your fault! But you didn’t listen, you took one look at yourself and ran off!” Holly hissed. “Did it scare you so much that I could love you even though you’ve changed?!”

“Yes.”

Holly stopped with a paw in the air, panting, as she looked into Nightshade’s golden eyes.

“I…” he stopped — then, mustering his courage, started again. “... I told myself I wasn’t a Night Fury anymore — not really. And maybe that’s true in a way, but I know you didn’t care. And I couldn’t accept it… couldn’t accept that you still saw me the same after how much I failed you. I didn’t want you to forgive me.”

Holly leaned down, her jaws inches away from Nightshade’s pointed ears. 

“That is not for you to decide.” she growled.

And then she released him. 

Groaning, Nightshade stood up, bits of rock and gravel falling from his scales. Holly stood next to him, looking towards the Eyrie… but she said nothing. There the two ancient Night Furies sat, not a sound except the waves crashing against the rock below.

Then Holly spoke again. 

“I wanted to hate you, to completely forget you… and I couldn’t do it. And when I realized that I had been magically altered too, I realized that you weren’t wrong to be afraid.”

“But we should’ve faced it together.” Nightshade answered. “And I ran away.”

“I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Holly didn’t respond. Then Nightshade flinched as warm scales pressed against him, the shorter female resting her head on his shoulder. “I know. And whether you deserve to be forgiven is up to me, not them. And you are forgiven.”

With that, Nightshade broke. 

Enveloping Holly in his wings, the two held each other tightly, without a care for the world around them. And a great many things were shared between their thoughts; the old king abandoned his fears for his arcane abilities, hiding nothing from the spirit of his mate, and their hearts were intertwined. They rested there for what seemed like an eternity, watching the peak of the Eyrie bloom with fire.

“Nightshade?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think all of this was planned?”

Looking into Holly’s eyes, Nightshade cocked his head. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean do you think the dragonstones conspired to bring us back together?” Holly snuggled tighter into his embrace, but kept speaking. “I have made my share of mistakes too, neglected my duty… What if the three of them decided it was time for us to confront the problems of our making, to reunite our people? Herentir showed me the place where the Watchers were to attack, and filled Ash’s head with visions of the Wastes. And Kemenar, though he is gentle with his power, is not an idiot. To say nothing of Antaris, who I’m sure has been arguing with you to get off your ass for over a century.”

Nightshade laughed. “Perhaps they did. They are far-seeing, after all. But I don’t think they would’ve done that unless the alternative was worse, whatever that might’ve been.”

“True.” Holly poked her head out from under his wings, at eye level with Nightshade. “But I don’t lose sleep over their games. They have the power of gods, yet they have proven their respect for life and liberty time and again. You are home, with me, and that is most important. So what do we do now?”

Nightshade’s smile faded. “This is not the end of our human problem, I’m afraid. There are more ships on the way… but I have prepared somewhat for that.”

“Do tell.”

“If Talon is successful… then Angalon will be on his way here, and we could have an army.”

Holly gave him a look of apprehension, mixed with regret. “Angalon… has grown angry and vengeful in your time away. He will not unite while the stones are here.”

“I think he will.” Nightshade’s eyes glittered. “Because I am here, and any Night Fury would be a fool to challenge me. I will speak for them, and commit to their good intent. With any luck, my presence alone will be enough for at least a temporary truce.”

Holly removed herself from his embrace, slowly pacing around. “And what about after? After the humans are defeated, who will rule our kind?”

Nightshade looked at the ground. “I expect there will be nominations; perhaps a vote, or a formal challenge like the old days. It could be anyone… maybe it should be no one. Why?"

“You know why.” 

Holly poked him with her tail. “Why not you? I know you don’t want it, don’t think you deserve it. But if you are afraid of your power and of how the dragonstones will be received, then why not serve from the top? The temptation will always be there, but if you accept it, the responsibility will temper you! Look at me…” Holly directed his head in her direction. “Mystholm belongs to our kind… if we are to live long, then let us make a difference.”

Nightshade sighed. “I will not nominate myself… but I will think about it. In truth, I don’t care. There is only one thing that matters.” 

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. “You and me. And I swear upon the memory of my mother, I will never leave again.”

Holly leaned in. “I know you won’t, my love. But you owe me a great deal. Because not everyone forgives as easily as me.”

Nightshade suddenly felt a rush of heat at his back, whispers of the arcane filling the air as he stiffened. 

Holly smiled dryly, as Herentir wreathed in white flame behind her mate. “I have forgiven you, but she hasn’t.” 

She looked at Nightshade playfully. “Don’t worry, I have faith in you. Just don’t expect her to help you very much, at least until you’ve proven yourself.”

Rather than feel threatened, the ancient Night Fury smiled, feeling happier than he had in over a century. He looked into Holly’s eyes, golden light clashing with amber flame. 

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: Winds of Change

The clouds above Aylan were beginning to darken, and every living creature could sense a storm brewing. Some Night Furies continued to fly about, anticipating enjoyment of the rain; but those who did not care to get wet took to the mountain caves to rest, or to continue licking their wounds from the battle. As the sky began to pour, the occasional bolt of lightning flashing across the sky, the island and its waters began to become slightly more recognizable; minor flames were put out, the blood of the fallen washed away, and the ships that still rested above the water were filled, sinking to the ocean floor. A small improvement, the actions of nature wiping the earth clean despite the destruction of the forest.

As the mountain caves gained precipitation from the storm strengthening outside, a small bead of water dripped from the ceiling, landing on the nose of the Night Fury that rested beneath it. Ash’s eyes flickered open, but she didn’t react, watching the water drip from the ceiling of the cave she laid in. She didn’t know the last time she had moved from this spot—or eaten, or truly slept for that matter—and truth be told, she didn’t care. 

All Ash could think about was Aylan burning, and the spear being driven through Moonlight. Even after she had seen the ships coming towards them, a small part of Ash had whispered that even if the battle had brought great tragedy surely it wouldn’t have reached so far. After all, her efforts had led to far more than Ash had originally hoped for. Talon had fought by their side, Toothless had protected her people against the invaders, even the Watchers had arrived to save them… And Ash had heard talk that Nightshade of all people was here, helping them; not as a human, but a Night Fury of such strength and size beyond any Night Fury alive today. 

Not that any of that mattered to Ash now.

Dragons were no different than humans when it came to the loss of the old, of the respected; it may take more decades, centuries even, but dragons die all the same. Ash knew this as much as any Night Fury; her own parents had died when she was very young, and Moonlight had made no attempt to hide the tragedy or the pain from her. She had taught her to accept that which she couldn’t change, that life was as unpredictable as it was rich. But somehow those words were hollow in her mind now; Moonlight was gone, and a part of Ash was gone with her. And she didn’t know if all her travels—her good intentions, her want for a better world for her kind—had been worth it after all.

Amidst the thunder and rain she could make out the flap of wings at the mouth of the cave. 

“This cave’s taken, go away.” Ash muttered, shutting her eyes once more and covering her face with a wing.

“C’mon, at least let me dry off.” a familiar voice said sarcastically.

Her eyes snapped open again; Ash bolted up as though struck by lightning, turning to see Toothless standing at the cave entrance, water dripping from his wings. Shaking himself off, the Alpha slowly came to stand by Ash. Despite her state of melancholy, she found herself leaning forward to nuzzle him.

Returning her affection, Toothless spoke. “I meant to find you sooner, but the other Night Furies asked me to take charge… I’m sorry.”

“About what?” Ash questioned, her voice breaking slightly. 

“For all of it. For Moonlight, for the egg, for all the Night Furies we lost… It’s a shallow victory.” Toothless replied, looking down.

Ash lowered her head, a moment passing before she responded. “I keep blaming myself for what happened… I sent Talon away to find those eggs, and Nightshade got them anyway. If he had gone with me maybe he could’ve been faster, saved—”

“Don’t do that.” Toothless interrupted, wrapping both wings around her. “You didn’t know, and it might not have changed a thing… You can’t dwell on that.”

“She wouldn’t want that for you.”

Ash shook with emotion, initially wanting to shout, to scream. But whatever fury she thought was within her melted away, finding herself unexpectedly comforted by Toothless’s words. Or perhaps his presence alone—his warmth—was enough to dissipate her state of depression. She hadn’t interacted with anyone since the battle, and the fact that he was here, alive and unhurt, brought her more solace than she had dared to hope for. 

Resting her head under his chin, Ash took a breath.

“I love you…”

The words slipped out of her mouth without a second thought; Ash felt Toothless’s body tense up, and she raised her head, sapphire eyes locked onto shining bright green. The taller male looked terrified, as though breaking eye contact was impossible, and Ash felt a lump of embarrassment—or perhaps of anticipation—form in her throat. 

Then the Alpha of Berk leaned down again, nuzzling her head gently, and all her fears were washed away.

“I love you too.”

The two Night Furies stayed in that cave for another hour or two, caring for nothing else but the long-desired embrace of the other. As the storm continued to rage outside they poured out their fears and desires to each other, their griefs and pains, taking comfort in the fact that finally they could be alone together. They talked about a great many things; the battle and its aftermath, Toothless’s newfound leadership among Aylan’s dragons, and Talon’s departure. But most thoroughly they talked of their future together; Toothless yearned for home, but equal was his desire to be with her. Ash hadn’t dwelled much on the idea of returning to Berk with him, but perhaps the prospect was not as unthinkable now as it might’ve been. And she still was fascinated by his stories, of life among the humans; surely such a place like Berk had to be experienced for herself? When they would depart she could not say, but Ash found the idea of exploring the skies of the Barbaric Archipelago most enticing.

As the two Night Furies nestled together, Toothless spoke up again. “I saw something interesting on the way here, by the way.”

“Oh really? And what would that be?” She asked, followed by an unexpected yawn; perhaps she would be able to sleep better now that Toothless was here.

The Alpha continued. “I saw Nightshade flying around… with the matriarch of the Watchers, I think. Hunting together.”

Turning her head to look at him in surprise, Ash started. “You mean Holly? You're joking! After all this time—”

“Wait, hold on.” Toothless interrupted. “Your saying Nightshade’s mate is also the leader of the Watchers?! How?”

“Oh, right… I guess I forgot to include that part when we were in his cave. She formed them after he left, and I guess whatever magic makes him so strong and immortal also affected her.” Ash narrowed her eyes in curiosity. “I didn’t think they could reconcile so quickly, after so many years.”

“Maybe she never really hated him… and maybe he was truly sorry. I guess that’s up to them.” Toothless yawned, then began to stand up.

“Where are you going?” Ash groaned, stretching to find the touch of his scales.

“C’mon, I want to show you something.” Toothless prodded her with his nose. “You should get some air, stretch your wings.

“Ugh, fine.” Ash mumbled, standing up and stretching her wings. “Isn’t it still raining though?”

“Thundering, yes. But the rain’s not too bad, c’mon!” Toothless trotted out of the cave, unfurling his batlike wings amidst the still flashing lightning.

The pair of them took off, the light patter of rain dripping against Ash’s scales; it actually wasn’t that bad, like Toothless said. As they descended upon the forest, she realized that he was taking her in the direction of the grotto; the thought of returning so soon initially twisted her stomach into knots, but surely whatever Toothless wanted to show her was meaningful enough that it was worth it. Rather than flying directly in from above, they approached around through the entrance.

The two landed on soft—but not soaked—earth, making their way into the grotto on foot. If Ash hadn’t been present the other night, one could barely assume that a fight had ever taken place here; the bodies were gone, the blood washed away, and the plant life was as vibrant as ever. The only difference was a giant shadowy figure that stood in front of the great tree, which lifted its head as they entered. Ash found herself staring in amazement at the Night Fury they had intruded upon, which easily dwarfed both of the adults in size, its golden eyes gleaming in the rain.

“Holy, shit—I mean… Nightshade? Is that you?” Ash stammered, while Toothless snorted in amusement.

Nightshade laughed. “It is indeed. Don’t worry, I’m used to it… I know it’s very uncommon, almost unnatural for a Night Fury to grow so large.” He walked forward on three legs, evidently clutching something in one of his paws that the two newcomers could not see. “Actually, I was hoping I would find you… to pay my respects.”

Ash swallowed, still trying to adjust to the Night Fury’s great height, far above her own. “I appreciate it… it's difficult to come to terms with, but I’m managing.”

“Of course.” Nightshade replied, lowering in his head. “But come! I suppose you haven’t seen the latest addition to the garden.” 

The great dragon maneuvered himself to the side, still clutching the mystery object in his paw, while Toothless wandered off to the far side of the grotto to give her privacy; once Nightshade was no longer blocking the view, Ash looked, and her breath caught in her throat.

The radiant blue flower, already increased in size, was sparkling in ethereal glints of sapphire as water struck its petals. And even in the normal brightness of the day the heart and stem were faintly glowing, not unlike a pale reflection of Ash’s own eyes, her mother’s… and Moonlight’s.

Ash found herself smiling, though the feelings welling up within her were not entirely joyful. “It’s gorgeous… and the colors are just right.” 

She looked at Nightshade, who was examining the flower with warmth. “You know Moonlight always hoped you would come back one day… And here you are, her beloved king.”

To her surprise, the ancient Night Fury scoffed. “Oh, Ash, Moonlight and I knew each other fairly well, but she would’ve been the last person to call me beloved!” Chuckling to himself, he stood next to her, Ash no longer unnerved by his presence.

“It was my brother that she loved.”

Ash looked up at him, puzzled, but his golden eyes looked worlds away.

“My father… didn’t approve of princes making friends with a common Night Fury, one that was not proven in battle or related to an island leader. But that didn’t stop Cinder and Moonlight from constantly running off on adventures together.” 

He smiled, staring at the flower. “They both had such love for the world, for living things of every shape and size. They were very close… but my brother had his duties, and he had me. And when I resolved to challenge Runar for the last time, Cinder vowed to go with me. Moonlight stayed behind.” Nightshade lowered his head, drops of rain falling from his head not unlike tears. “And he never came back.”

“But, I am most glad…” he perked up, turning to look down at Ash. “... to see that Moonlight found love here, while still pursuing the dreams and hopes she shared with my brother. Her life was long and much fulfilled, and she lives on through you.”

Ash looked at Nightshade with pity, but also with a mixture of newfound appreciation. “I hope I can be like her.” Pausing for a moment, she then started. “And this is a better way to remember her than I could’ve come up with… Thank you.”

Nightshade giggled lightly. “I’m not the one you should be thanking. Which reminds me, I have something for you!”

The great Night Fury haphazardly turned to face her, to Ash’s confusion. Reaching out his free paw, he uncurled his claws, and Ash was bewildered. 

In his paw rested the emerald dragonstone—she hadn’t even registered it missing from the tree—which faintly glowed as the raindrops splattered against it. She recoiled, the thought of the rapidly aging dragon hunter filling her with dread.

“What? For me… I can’t take it!” Ash looked up at Nightshade, confused. “Why would you give it to me… can you even ‘give’ it away?!”

Nightshade addressed her warmly. “You misunderstand me, Ash. I am not giving you a tool to be wielded, and I don’t treat him as one. The dragonstones are living creatures, who learn and grow as we do, though they are difficult to understand. And they make their own choices; he chose to return to Moonlight after the Cataclysm. They need people to learn from, because that is how they gained life as we call it. They live through learning… and he has chosen you.”

“I know your fear, Ash. You fear the dragonstones because they are different, because they’re powerful beyond measure, and you are right to recognize that. But I gave him a name— Kemenar— because he is more than a tool. He grew that flower, not because any of us asked for it, but because he cared for Moonlight . He is the embodiment of life and nature, of its growth and beauty, and he feels; they all do, just not the same way we do.”

“But… Why me?” Ash questioned, eyeing the stone apprehensively.

Nightshade shrugged his wings. “I couldn’t tell you! But isn’t that always the question, when someone else sees something in us that we can’t see? Isn’t that an opportunity, a chance to discover something new about yourself?” He gently took a step forward, careful to not let the emerald stone fall from his paw.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Ash hesitated, but curiosity took root within her. Slowly, she turned her paw face up, extending it slowly. Nightshade lifted his giant paw above it, and the weight of the gemstone hitting her paw caused Ash to flinch; but to her shock, the egg-shaped stone was surprisingly light. Holding it at eye level, Ash remembered all the times she had feared to look at it, the apprehension of staring into its arcane light. 

Glancing up at Nightshade, who nodded slowly, she steeled herself before staring directly into the emerald dragonstone.

And something looked back into her; Ash gasped, her body shuddering as though struck by an icy wind. She could see waves of magic rolling over themselves in the stone, the full power of creative energy as flowing and unpredictable as life itself. The light took shape in her mind, as though she was receiving both thought and feeling as one. In that moment Ash could feel the being known as Kemenar, her mind and heart laid bare before his formless consciousness; he was at once both young and ageless, nigh-omniscient and yet childishly curious. And to Ash the world around her melted away, her eyes beholding the great multitude of possibilities that life had to offer, the joy and pain that was the essence of life. And she laughed.

Toothless looked concerned, but curious as Ash remained transfixed on the gemstone, which began to shine brightly in the rain. He anxiously stepped closer, but a sudden burst of strange sound from outside the grotto caught his attention; not unlike the heavy rustling of leaves and the creak of wood, growing in strength. At once the Alpha took to the air, perching himself upon the rocky wall of the grotto, his eyes beholding an incredible sight. And the nearby Night Furies, both ones in caves or flying about in the rain, all stopped to look at the impossible, wondrous act of magic unfolding.

Despite being completely absorbed in Kemenar’s light, Ash could hear a great commotion of sound around her as dragons took flight, crying out in amazement.

“What’s going on? Is everything ok?” she found herself asking the air, but not averting her gaze.

A deep voice answered. “Everything’s fine Ash… In fact, it’s more than fine!” 

Nightshade’s voice rang in her ears, cheerful and eager. “Don’t look away, embrace it. Open your eyes!”

Ash didn’t know what on earth he meant by that, but somehow she did. And she found herself in observance of Kemenar’s memories, as though watching the growth of a child from their eyes. Ash could make out a Night Fury with golden eyes; she thought of Nightshade, but this one seemed more reserved, thoughtful. Cinder , she thought. And she could see Moonlight! Her elder was there, but as a young dragon bright and lively, identical to Ash in almost every way. Other memories floated through her mind as well; Cinder and Moonlight with the emerald stone, watching flowers sprout with unnatural speed, and she saw the island of Aylan teeming with thousands of Night Furies. 

And then suddenly, it was all gone. Ash was back in the grotto, Kemenar resting warmly in her palm, his glow fading. She initially found herself disappointed, but a voice in the back of her mind told her that nothing was stopping her from sharing thoughts with the stone again.

“Ash! You’ve got to come and see this!” 

She jumped, startled by Toothless’s distant voice; Ash had almost forgotten that he was there. Backing up, she expected Kemenar to fall to the ground, but the dragonstone floated in the air. Ash looked up to see Toothless perched on the rocky wall, his eyes wide with wonder. And there were other Night Furies in the air as well, many of the island’s inhabitants braving the rain, staring out to sea.

“Go to him, Ash. Go and see.” Nightshade encouraged. 

Ash looked at him hesitantly, then rose to the air with a beat of her wings; out of the corner of her eye she saw a green flash beside her, and Ash realized that the emerald dragonstone had floated up with her. Landing next to Toothless, she gasped in shock at the sight before her.

“By the stars…”

All of Aylan was a sea of green, the ashes of the battlefield sprouting with grass and saplings at a speed she could not have imagined possible. The entire forest was unfolding before her, all the damage of the battle becoming unrecognizable as the island flourished with life. Trees and mushrooms were sprouting out of the ground at an incredible pace, maturing to great size in a matter of seconds. And even more to Ash’s amazement, the rain began to build, and the waves began to writhe and grow. The wreckage of the fleet—already laden with water—was sifted and overturned, sinking beneath the surface. And before long the island of Aylan looked as it had not three days earlier, a beacon of serenity under the falling rain, made whole by Kemenar’s magic.

A rush of powerful wings sounded behind her; Ash and Toothless turned to behold Nightshade, hovering above them, each beat of his wings sending waves across the ground. His draconic features were alight with amazement, his laugh echoing amongst the thundering sky.

“Look! See what wonders you can do together!” he cried, looking up into the pouring clouds. “The world is a canvas to a dragonstone, but they learned how to live from us! And you can show him what it means to love, to love life in all its forms, for that is the meaning he has chosen!”

And all the Night Furies of Aylan beheld a shining amber light appear in the sky; its rays flashed through the droplets of water, striking them in bright rays of color. Ash looked in awe—Toothless by her side—as what she could only assume to be Antaris caused a great eruption of light in the storm-filled air, an incredible display of magic as though stars were sprouting in the air. Every Night Fury found themselves amazed by the array, finding hope in the magic that now engulfed their skies in light.

As the rest of his kind watched, Nightshade closed his eyes, letting the rain dance on his scales as he hovered. He always did love watching Antaris work. 

While Aylan was alive with wonders, the ocean frothed with powerful waves as the storm once again picked up strength. The weather was foul and unforgiving for many miles, but dragons were not the only ones who attempted to traverse such conditions.

Many leagues away, the main fleet of Velesheim was in the throes of cutting its way through the storm; sailors on every ship were running in all directions tying lines, raising sails, throwing buckets of water overboard. They still had many miles to go before they reached the archipelago’s edge—in complete ignorance of their ‘comrades’ disastrous battle—but great was the confidence of Lord Ragnar in his men that they would all survive the storm’s wrath.

So great was the thunder and crashing of waves, and the concentration of every sailor and hunter, that it was impossible to notice the fast approaching trail of fins cutting through the water. The grey and blue hues of the sea—frothing about against the hulls of the fleet—concealed the mass of sea dragons that were fast approaching, nothing but unremarked shadows of the raging maelstrom. As the watery creatures approached the armada, the beady eyes of Scauldrons popped onto the surface, eyeing the boats with a predatory gaze. Lightning split across the sky as the sailors, completely absorbed by their efforts to save their ships from damage, failed to see several pods of turquoise sea dragons slip closer. They slithered through the jostling water, positioning themselves to rest just underneath the rudders of the ships being thrown about by the sea.

One pair of mustard-yellow eyes broke the already frothing surface of the water, viewing a metal-coated rudder with interest. Slowly, its thin mouth emerged as well, careful not to show too much scales to catch any distracted sailor’s gaze. Clamped in between its teeth was a strange object; a tightly sealed jar, strapped to two large curved hooks. The Scauldron gently swayed in the rolling tide in rhythm with the ship, the slippery sea dragon lifting up its jaws to the vessel’s rudder, which swung back and forth in cooperation with the tide. 

The dragon set the jar atop the rudder, the straps hanging down as the hooks linked themselves together in the rise and fall of the waves. More and more Scauldrons began performing the same task, the sea dragons patiently attaching the same devices to every rudder they could reach. The maelstrom concealed the dragons movements for over an hour, many of the ships in the fleet receiving an unwelcome addition to their hull as Lord Ragnar’s sailors contended with the weather. Finally the last hooks fell into place; the Scauldrons slipped away into the waves, and the storm raged on as though they were never there.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18: Honor and Fealty

“So how did you meet Talon?” Toothless asked.

“Right, I promised I’d tell you that, didn’t I?”

The two Night Furies were resting on the beach; it was dawn, faint rays of light beginning to cross the horizon. But the sky was still dark enough to see the stars, the ashen sand reflecting their light like scattered gems. Ash’s head was resting on the larger male’s chest, her tail absentmindedly tracing shapes in the sand.

“When I was 10, Seregon was much more ‘enthusiastic’ in trying to destroy the dragonstone.” Ash started, adjusting herself in Toothless’s embrace. “They would send spies, dragons to infiltrate us and kill in the night… Those were bad years.”

Toothless’s eyes narrowed. “How could you figure them out?”

“Well, it's surprisingly hard to find a Seregon Night Fury that doesn’t have scars.” She replied sarcastically. “And red and yellow eyes are not common on Aylan, so the numbers they can use for spies are actually really small. But after that, it was like waiting for an attack that you couldn’t stop.”

“I think at the time, they were trying to get enough infiltrators to take the stone. Talon must’ve been sent to lead them when the time was right… I suppose that’s what he would’ve done if he hadn’t been struck by lightning.”

The Alpha blinked. “You’re joking.”

Ash giggled. “Hey, I said Talon was strong — I never said he was lucky. I was exploring the caves that sit at the bottom of the mountain, where the ocean rushes in… I found him down there, his back was scorched beyond belief. I mean, storms aren’t the greatest thing to fly in but still, talk about unlucky.”

“What did you do with him?” Toothless asked.

“I was terrified at first. When I first saw Talon’s red eyes I thought he was going to eat me… but he just cried out in pain, he couldn’t move. When he finally was able to talk, he just politely asked me my name and if I could bring him some food.” 

Ash smiled to herself. “10 year old me didn’t think a Night Fury from Seregon could be so… normal. Sweet.”

“I take it you didn’t let an older dragon find him.” Toothless stated, slowly nuzzling her forehead as he spoke.

“They would’ve killed him.” She replied. “I was told to report anything suspicious, but I didn’t want him to get hurt any more! So I took care of him until he could fly again, and we sort of became friends. Honestly I think I learned a lot from him, at least that not everyone’s as bad as you think.”

“I see. So even after all these years you thought you could trust him.”

“When he recovered, he simply thanked me and left. But we haven’t been ambushed from within since, and something tells me he had something to do with it.” Ash turned her body to face him, her sapphire eyes shining. “I was right, wasn’t I? He’s noble… so are you.”

Toothless’s ears twitched. “Oh really? I’m honored.” he said, gently resting his forehead against hers. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” 

They rested there for a while longer, watching the sky turn into bright shades of pink. A frantic rustle of wings sounded behind them; Toothless turned his head to see Thorn land hard, scattering sand everywhere.

“Hey, Thorn!” Ash greeted, having lifted her own head to observe the newcomer. “Everything ok?”

Thorn looked frazzled. “I hate to break up your time together, but you both need to see this. We’ve got company.”

Toothless stiffened. “Hunters?”

“No, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing yet.” Thorn gestured to the crescent mountain. “Seregon’s here.”

The Alpha eased up slightly, but his pupils narrowed. “How many?” he asked.

“Hundreds, maybe every adult they have. C’mon, they’re moving fast!” Thorn leapt into the air, hastily turning to head to the northern side of the island.

As Toothless and Ash took to the skies in pursuit, the young Night Fury wracked his brain with possibilities. Hopefully they were not here to fight them, but if something were to go wrong… An insult thrown, or old wounds reopened. Surely Talon would not let things get out of hand, but Toothless feared that with such a strong host approaching their friend from Seregon was not the dragon in charge this time. The higher they climbed, the more Night Furies they could see scaling Aylan’s peak in waves, racing to meet Seregon’s horde.

The three dragons ascended above the peak, the mountainside already littered with almost all of Aylan’s Night Furies, who gazed northward with bared teeth and hard expressions. Toothless’s eyes widened at the sight unfolding before him; above the shining sea was a rolling cloud of black, gathering in a swarm a short distance away from the rocks. There had to be at least a thousand Night Furies, and judging by Seregon’s reputation, all were seasoned warriors. 

Aylan was, in fact, outnumbered, but Toothless steeled himself for whatever was about to unfold. He landed at the head of Aylan’s Night Furies, Ash silently landing beside him. The dragoness was calm and collected, and Toothless felt a swell of pride rise up within him; whatever trace of nervousness she normally expressed was unnoticeable, regal and composed in opposition to the violent swarm above their heads.

Two dragons broke away from the horde and began descending downwards, and Toothless took a deep breath. Talon was the first to land, his claws grinding against the mountain rubble. He nodded at the pair, but made no attempt to speak as the second, threateningly larger Night Fury hit the ground hard. Rocks flew wayward as Toothless and Ash beheld a monstrous dragon, easily dwarfing them in size; the numerous scars and tears across his body only seemed to enhance the ancient creature’s aura, as ruby-red eyes regarded the pair with an intelligent—almost hungry—gaze. 

Angalon, no doubt, Toothless thought, marvelling at the Night Fury’s size; seeing Nightshade for the first time had been a shock, but an explainable one given his proximity to magic. But for a Night Fury who abhorred the dragonstones to grow to such size and strength—naturally—put the Alpha on his guard immediately.

“So…” the lord of Seregon spat, his dark tone cutting through the air like a knife. “You must be the foreigner my son spoke of. You should be grateful his curiosity outweighed his duty for the moment, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

Talon, ever the image of confidence, visibly flinched at his fathers words, his eyes glued to the ground. 

Toothless felt a burn of anger within, but tried his best to keep his composure. “Well if our entire race wasn’t in jeopardy, I certainly would have avoided trying to sneak onto your island. They don’t call your Night Furies warriors for nothing.”

The great dragon bristled. “Oh, please… Spare me your notions of kinship, when you can simply fly off home with that human crutch keeping you afloat. You know nothing of Night Furies, of our struggle!”

“He knows enough!” Ash interrupted. “At least he has the heart to save his people instead of killing them!”

Angalon shot her a withering glare, his eyes mirroring a similarly ageless look like others long lived of their race. But while Nightshade’s eyes reflected both wonder and terror, Angalon’s ruby orbs betrayed nothing but pain and cold, the accumulation of centuries of death. Ash tried to maintain eye contact, unwilling to display her fear as her stomach twisted itself into knots.

“Careful, girl.” He hissed. “Don’t let your boldness undo the concession I’ve already granted you by keeping my warriors at bay. In any case…” He spoke to both Ash and Toothless, his eyelids drooping in disinterest. “I did not come here to debate with children. Where is he?”

Before either dragon could respond, a strange sound of shattering crystal assaulted their ears as the air a few feet away from Angalon began to… crack, as though a mirror of multicolored glass had suddenly formed from nothing. 

The shards folded and moved in an instant, the cracks in the air growing to enormous size as they unveiled a dark shape. Scales, wings, then fins; at once, Nightshade stood before them as though he had always been there, and the air behind him was normal.

He eyed Toothless and Ash briefly, then turned his head to Angalon as both dragons drew themselves to their full height. Gold clashed with ruby as they sized up the other, both Night Furies matched in size, separated by mere feet. Nightshade’s expression softened, a slight grin crossing his face. 

“Well, old friend, you look… a little worse for wear.”

The lord of Seregon growled low, showing blackened teeth. “You… I don’t know whether or not to call you tragic or call you traitor.”

“Ash, Toothless, if you don’t mind…” Nightshade turned his head to face them. “I’d like to speak with the lord of Seregon alone for a moment. Assuming we can trust our guests up there to behave?”

Ash looked like she wanted to protest, but nodded. Angalon stepped towards Talon and whispered something in his ear, to which the younger dragon bowed slightly. 

Whatever he said was apparently of no consequence to Nightshade, who exclaimed brightly; “Well, this should shape up to be an exciting day! The grotto should afford us some peace and quiet. Shall I have Antaris take us there, or—”

Angalon reeled back, snarling at Nightshade — every dragon apart from the former king tensed immediately. 

“If that demon so much as moves a pebble—”

“Alright, alright. Flying it is, then.”

The two ancient dragons spread their wings, enveloping their smaller brethren in darkness as they took to the air. Neither side moved as the two flew off in the direction of the grotto, the Night Furies from Seregon continuing to swarm overhead. As soon as they were out of sight, Toothless turned to Talon.

“That’s your father?! You weren’t kidding, I probably would've died if I had met him in Seregon.”

“What did he say to you?!” Ash questioned, somewhat accusatory. 

Talon sighed, exasperated. “It doesn’t matter, nothing will lead to a war while he knows the dragonstones are about. They’re the only thing he fears.”

Ash looked up hesitantly, beholding the swarm of Night Furies above them. “I didn’t think Seregon had this many warriors left.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll get the unification you’ve longed for.” Talon confessed, glancing upwards at his brethren. “But I suppose that depends on whatever demands my father is making of Nightshade.”

Toothless immediately felt uneasy. “Demands?”

Elsewhere…

“If you were still a true Night Fury, I would kill you where you stand!”

Angalon’s words stung Nightshade, but were not unexpected from his former friend. The two were standing beneath the great silver tree, the faint sound of the nearby horde of Night Furies faintly audible. Kemenar was back in his usual place in the tree, shining brightly; unfortunately, the mere presence of the dragonstone only served to incense Angalon.

“Nice of you to return after a century and a half… I’m curious, did you really think that you deserved a respite so much for you to abandon your people?!” he spat, while Nightshade remained still.

“I will not attempt to defend my actions any more than I would ask you to repent for all you’ve done while I was away.” Nightshade stated calmly. “Which, I’ve been told, is quite a lot. How many times have you attacked your own race to destroy a gem?”

Angalon seethed, his ruby eyes shining with anger. “They are abominations! How can you still defend them, after all that Nancarin was capable of?!”

“You don’t need to remind me…” Nightshade whispered, his expression dark. “I know full well, but I can assure you that the three that remain wish to help us!”

“YOU CAN ASSURE NOTHING!” 

The ancient Night Fury turned away, pacing in frustration. “They could be lying to your face and you would be powerless to realize it! We are ants to them. They can wipe us out with a thought, and what could we do?”

Nightshade sighed. There was some truth to Angalon’s words. It was impossible for him to describe the sensation of being mentally linked to a dragonstone, to derive their thoughts and intentions. And it was true that he often feared that he was being deceived, but at this point Antaris alone was powerful enough that lying was unnecessary. 

“How can I assure you that I have them under control?”

Angalon turned towards Nightshade, a sardonic chuckle escaping his lips. “Under control? Have you heard nothing I’ve said?! There is no power on earth greater than the dragonstones, and there is nothing that can control them. The fact that you think you can is the entire reason why we are in this mess!” The lord of Seregon approached until he was inches from Nightshade, his voice a venomous whisper.

“I don’t care what any other Night Fury says. My cousin was a great dragon, strong and pure, and that stone peeled his mind apart until there was nothing left. My entire family is dead — and that's your fault.”

Angalon’s words echoed in Nightshade’s head, mixing with the clamor of voices that continuously tormented the Night Fury, and he found himself backing up.

“If that's true, then it’s our fault as well!”

Both of the males jumped, turning towards the third voice as a large shadow emerged from behind the tree. Amber eyes regarded Angalon with regret as Holly stepped towards them, and Angalon looked as though he had seen a ghost.

“You!”

“Yes, me…” Holly confessed. “It seems that you are the only one who did not flee from your duties, Angalon.”

“How did I not smell you?!” The ruby-eyed dragon backed up, teeth bared. “And you haven’t aged! You have succumbed to the stone’s witchcraft as much as he!”

“I didn’t ask for this!” Holly shouted back. “And there's not a thing that can be done about that now. But we’re all here now; you from Seregon, the young Night Furies from Aylan, and I have my Watchers. So where do we go from here?”

Angalon visibly bristled at Holly’s revelation about the Watchers, but he said nothing. The three Night Furies stood in silence for a moment, until it was broken by a quiet chuckle from Nightshade.

“What on earth is so funny?” Angalon sighed, his anger giving way to tired confusion.

“Look at us!” Nightshade said. “Us three, together again. A couple of old drakes who refuse to die… It’s ironic, seeing as we all left home thinking we wouldn’t come back.”

Holly looked at him soberly. “But we did, and we won.”

“Nobody won.” Angalon interjected, his tone surprisingly melancholy. “There were survivors, that is all.”

“I am happy for you, by the way.” Nightshade confessed. “You should be very proud of Talon… he’s a noble dragon.”

Angalon eyed the large Night Fury, a flicker of gratitude crossing his face. “You… honor me. Talon takes after his mother, fortunately.”

“Yet he’s the spitting image of your forefathers.” Holly said respectfully. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was Runar born again.”

Angalon’s tone was bitter. “He does look very much like him.”

“I’m sure we have plenty to reminisce about.” Nightshade spoke up again. “But the young Night Furies could be snapping at each other’s throats if we don’t bring back good news. So what now?”

Angalon replied first, his expression hard. “You will never get me to accept or respect the dragonstones… but I suppose with you here, the risks of them betraying us are somewhat lessened. If you really can control them, that is.”

“I can.”

“The dragonstones will be cryptic and distant, as they always are.” Holly stated. “It’s the humans we need to concern ourselves with. We already lost numerous Night Furies to one attack, and you said there are more coming?” she questioned, looking towards her mate.

Nightshade responded calmly. “There are, with many more ships. And despite Angalon’s misgivings, the dragonstones won’t just destroy them for us. Other than some minor magic, we’re on our own.”

“If my warriors are to join you, then we require some assurances.” Angalon demanded. “Starting with the maintenance of our secrecy. I know that foreign Night Fury has been a great ‘help’, but his compassion for the humans is misplaced. The entire fleet burns, no survivors.”

“I think after all that’s transpired, that won’t be an issue. And Toothless has no love for dragon hunters.” Holly countered. 

“I am not finished.” Angalon drew himself to his full height. “From here on out Aylan will supply us with a monthly tribute of fresh kill, since their forests are so plentiful. And anything the human fleet leaves behind of use belongs to us.”

Nightshade’s eyes sparkled. “I’m sure a reasonable amount can be agreed upon. But that would require deciding who’s in charge of Aylan. Or more importantly, who is leading all of us.”

“It’s time for Night Furies to be united under one ruler again.” Holly proposed, coming to stand by her mate. “We should gather them all to decide.”

Angalon buried his face in his paws. An election. “Ancestors preserve us…”

Some time later…

Toothless found himself incredibly on edge, kept at ease only by Ash’s presence beside him as he surveyed the scene below. Thousands of Night Furies were covering the entire side of Aylan’s mountain, like one giant rock splattered with black lichen. It was the only physical structure large enough to accommodate so many dragons, the only way for them to all see and hear what was about to transpire. The Night Furies of Aylan, Seregon, and the Watchers had managed to segregate themselves into massive groups, their chosen leaders flying overhead; Angalon and Talon on one side, Holly and a few of her subordinates, and Toothless and Ash, with Zephyr and Thorn hovering behind them. The air was tenuous and the space limited, dragons in opposing groups snapping at each other, but no fights broke out while their leaders surveyed from the air. 

Except for one; in a small patch of clear rock between them all stood Nightshade, even his large form dwarfed by the throng of Night Furies surrounding him.

Once it appeared every dragon had found a place to observe, an ear-shattering roar sung through the air drowning out the sound of every Night Fury. All turned inwards to view Nightshade, whose jaws snapped shut, and there was an eerie silence. The ancient dragon paced around like a panther as he began to speak, his voice ringing with strength;

“I stand before you as moderator, not because I have earned the right, but for the sole reason that I can shout much louder than all of you!” he confessed honestly, earning snorts and chuckles from a few amongst the crowd. “You have answered the summons of your clan leaders to unite against a common enemy, a human fleet that has already left its mark upon this island! It has been over a century since our race stood together as one, and much has transpired between us, but the time has come to set our conflict aside!”

“Seregon has agreed to come to Aylan’s aid against the humans, and has vowed to never again attempt to destroy its dragonstone!” Nightshade shouted, drawing whispers of disbelief from some and anger from others. “However, this will be done on the condition that no human is left alive, and that the wreckage of the fleet and anything useful belongs to them! Furthermore, they demand that Aylan supply them with a modest monthly tribute of fresh kill from here on out, since their island is vastly depleted of resources!”

This sent the dragons of Aylan into an uproar, their leaders struggling to keep their displeasure at bay as insults were thrown.

“Why should we feed them when they’ve killed us?!”

“It is not our fault that we starve!”

“SILENCE!” Nightshade’s voice echoed over all. “Is this not a reasonable ask? The forests of Aylan are abundant with life, and as far as I know none of you are advocating for human survivors! Is this compromise not enough to guarantee the survival of our race?”

“And who is to enforce this?” A male Night Fury at the front shouted to the crowd. “Who has the right to tell us how things shall be? We have ruled ourselves just fine since you left!”

“Just fine?” Another dragon, a female, snapped back. “You called fighting amongst ourselves for a century fine?! We’re aimless!”

“We need a ruler!”

Surprisingly, the exclamation drew silence from the horde, each dragon waiting for someone to speak. Finally, Nightshade spoke again; “If no one has objections, then who will declare themselves?”

Toothless felt a rush of air as a dragon flew past him; to his surprise, Zephyr landed in the circle next to Nightshade before addressing the horde.

“I am here to declare, not for myself, but for a dragon that I believe can guide our race with strength and wisdom!” Zephyr spoke confidently, while Nightshade stood by. “I have watched this Night Fury rise above many challenges, and though they are young they have the ability to lead us into a new future!”

“I nominate Ash, from Aylan, to serve as our queen.”

Toothless heard Ash gasp next to him, while the crowd beneath rose in uproar. The Night Furies of Aylan were ecstatic, the Watchers somewhat ambivalent, and the dragons from Seregon did not react at all. When Zephyr returned to the air, Ash turned to Toothless—who nodded reassuringly—before flying to land next to Nightshade.

“I am honored to be nominated, especially by a dear friend…” Ash declared, somewhat quiet. “And I will continue to fight for Aylan with all my strength. But I see myself as much too young, too unknown to rule over all Night Furies, so I must decline!”

Her declaration drew disbelief and anger from the rest of Aylan’s dragons, but Toothless smiled to himself. He thought Ash would make a good queen, but whatever she thought was her path was up to her. And hopefully that includes me as much as possible, he thought selfishly, as Ash returned to hover beside him.

“Ash has declined her nomination!” Nightshade repeated. “Who else will come forward?”

One dragon flew downwards towards him, drawing wild cheers from Seregon’s Night Furies. Talon glared at them sharply, and they fell silent.

“What I say now, I say for both myself and for my father!” Talon declared, looking up at Angalon, who nodded firmly. “I know full well that there are many here who despise us, who call us savages and would prefer to not accept our help. I will not attempt to defend actions that we’ve taken against our own kind, nor will we ask any of you to change your feelings towards us.”

The young lord stood tall. “We have an opportunity before us to remake ourselves! We have all been raised on stories of our ancestors, from when Night Furies were numerous and powerful. Let us return to those days, where this land was our sole united dominion. As for a nomination, we believe there is only one Night Fury truly capable of ushering in such an age. One who can both control his fellow dragons and the dragonstones, who can rule through both might and humility.”

“We nominate Nightshade, to resume his rightful place.”

The horde was dead silent; indeed, many might have expected Talon to nominate himself, or his father. All eyes turned towards the giant Night Fury who stood beside him, waiting for Nightshade to speak with bated breath. The golden-eyed dragon seemed surprised as well, eyeing Talon curiously.

Finally, he addressed the crowd. “I will not pretend that I have not made many mistakes; in fact, I couldn’t blame anyone here for blaming me for your current predicaments!” Nightshade’s voice rose to a bellow. “I once had this duty before, not because I deserved it, but because it was forced upon me! And once the Cataclysm was concluded, I selfishly thought all I had lost could excuse me from further service. I won’t apologize, but neither will I expect forgiveness from any of you who grew up in a world that was formed by my actions!”

“I never thought I would return here; honestly, I’m not sure I deserved to.” Nightshade confessed, slowly pacing around the circle. “I’m not sure where I belong, what to do with my powers or my long life. And you will never hear me say that being king is something I desire!” 

He looked around, at all the Night Furies gathered from every clan. “But I will say this; I will defend our kind with my every breath, and ensure that the dragonstones remain a blessing rather than a curse. I will serve in whatever capacity you wish, be it king or a simple soldier. The choice is yours.”

Not one Night Fury made a sound, the only audible noise emanating from the ones still hovering in the air. Toothless looked around, trying to gauge the reactions of the horde; some were beginning to whisper amongst themselves, their words frantic and random. Ash turned to give Toothless a warm smile, seemingly having made up her own mind. The air was broken by Talon, his voice clear and powerful.

“We have our first nomination! If anyone else wishes to declare themselves, come forward now!”

Nightshade looked around, expecting someone—anyone—to step forward, but not one dragon moved. It seems they don’t resent him as much as he thought, Toothless thought to himself as he watched; perhaps, in the end, the only person who truly blamed Nightshade was himself.

“If there are no more nominations, then you can either declare your fealty to Nightshade or challenge his nomination!” Talon shouted to the crowd. “Who will be first?!”

A falling shadow out of the corner of his eye caused Toothless to turn his head, seeing Holly dive down quickly. The Watchers immediately stood tall with wings unfurled, dark sentries ready to take off at their matron's command. She landed gracefully, quietly approaching Nightshade; for a moment, the two simply stared at each other. 

Finally, the Lady of the Watchers stepped forward, nuzzling his chin softly. The Watchers relaxed, and Toothless felt his heart leap at the significance of what was transpiring beneath him. 

Angalon was next, his landing much less graceful, and many a Night Fury held their breath as he approached the golden-eyed dragon. The withered lord stood in front of him—his hard gazing unyielding—and lightly lowered his head, whispering something Toothless could not hear. Whatever it was put a grin on the ancient dragon’s face, and he firmly pressed his forehead against Angalon’s.

“Will you come down with me?”

Toothless’s concentration was interrupted by Ash, who nudged her head down questioningly.

“Of course.”

The two descended to the ground, lightly landing in front of the elder dragons, while Talon stood by grinning. Ash approached Nightshade, slowly but confidently, and lowered her head.

“My king.”

“Ash, my dear, you are the last person here who need bow. You and Toothless both!” Nightshade exclaimed, stepping forward as Holly and Angalon backed up. “Your actions set all this in motion… You should be very proud.”

“In fact, I could continue to use your perspective.” Nightshade confessed. “Assuming, of course, you’re willing to lead Aylan in my name.”

“Really?” Ash asked brightly. “I’d be honored.”

“Excellent!” Nightshade cried, raising his neck to behold the crowd. “And as for the rest of you, any are still welcome to challenge. But if not, then we have work to do! The humans will sail here soon, and we must prepare! ”

“What say you, Night Furies? Will you follow me, and make all of Mystholm ours again?!”

For the first time in over a century, every Night Fury rose up as one, and Toothless was surrounded by cheers.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: New Resolve

The afternoon sun was bright, gently breaking through the canopy of trees in broken rays, warming the scales of a Night Fury crouched on the forest floor. Lunging forward, Ash bit down hard, the faint crack of bone resonating through her teeth as the elk went limp in her jaws. Clamping down gently to not tear up her catch, she craned her neck to see Toothless several yards away, his own teeth quickly dispatching another woodland creature. As he looked up in her direction, Ash nodded in the direction of the forest ceiling; their mouths both full of elk, the two Night Furies took to the air in unison. They broke through the treeline in a matter of seconds, the air around them dotted with additional Night Furies in the midst of the hunt.

As they turned in the direction of the beach, Ash couldn’t help but ponder the purpose of their actions. Night Furies were gliding back and forth from the island edge to the forest, all in the process of gathering an incredibly large stockpile of food. Normally the hunting of animals didn’t trouble Ash in the slightest—dragons always had to eat, after all—but even with the size of the combined colonies, this much food seemed… excessive? No, downright wasteful. Nightshade had commanded for three ‘gigantic’ stockpiles of animal carcasses to be gathered on the beaches, and despite his complete lack of explanation no dragon was yet brave enough to question the new king's command. Ash was sure he had something up his sleeve, but what was the question.

They circled overhead, both Night Furies releasing their kill along with other gathering dragons. As repetitive thuds sounded beneath them, a voice from the ground reached Ash’s ears;

“Toothless! Ash!” 

Looking down, she beheld Zephyr on the ground, having taken charge of supervising this particular pile. “A messenger just came from the grotto! The king wants to see both of you there!”

Huh, ironic, I guess now I can ask him, Ash thought. “Thank you!” She twisted her body gracefully, reversing direction to head back into the forest.

“I wonder what ‘his majesty’ requires of us now.” Toothless remarked sarcastically as he caught up, the gentle beat of his wings rustling the leaves below them.

“You know Nightshade hates being called that,” Ash giggled, lightly brushing against his outstretched wing with her own. “You’d be mad too if I started calling you ‘Alpha’ all the time.”

Toothless snorted. “Ok, you got me. I just find it interesting how… un-royal he seems to be.”

“What do you mean?”

The male Night Fury flipped over her in the air, matching her speed as he glided. Toothless’s head craned downwards; “I mean, even after hundreds of years, Nightshade’s the only Night Fury of old royalty left. I’d expect someone who grew up royal to be more composed, regal even… but I guess he’s had many decades of solitude to break that personality.”

Ash looked up warmly. “I’m sure if push comes to shove, he’ll act a little more composed… but I think deep down he’s always just a chaotic character.” A three-century old one, she thought, as they continued to sail over the forest. 

While Ash had been in a good mood all day, the same could not be said for Toothless; he hid his conflicting thoughts well as the pair had travelled around Aylan, offering their help wherever they could to prepare for the upcoming battle. The Alpha had hoped that the work would be enough to distract him from himself, but that appeared impossible. Even as he gently maneuvered through the air, matching Ash’s every move with familiarity, Toothless’s mind was in extreme unease.

He thought he would remain happy that Nightshade had asked Ash to lead Aylan; it was a privilege she richly deserved, and it gave her an avenue for purpose not unlike her motivations for uniting her people in the first place. And yet Toothless found himself thinking back to their conversation in that cave days past, their discussions about their future, and their confessions. With her looking forward to her new responsibilities, he realized that a life together was not going to be as easy to build as he thought. 

And truth be told, the Night Fury was torn between contentment and homesickness; he missed Hiccup deeply, and the thought of his newfound kin replacing his life on Berk had the young Night Fury in great distress. Was he selfish for wanting Ash to come back with him now? Surely she would understand, but part of Toothless didn’t want to bring it up. Even despite the coming danger, she had never looked happier. And he couldn’t break that right now.

In any case, Toothless was resolved to confess his doubts to her eventually. The subject of Nightshade, however, had long been growing within the Alpha’s mind, and he was unsure what to do about it. Every time he thought he was comfortable concerning the ancient Night Fury, a small voice in the back of his head told Toothless that something about him was… wrong. He was absolutely sure that the Nightshade they had first met in the Wastes had one too many screws loose, and although the king had shown himself to be capable of great kindness, his behavior still had the tendency to occasionally unsettle the Alpha. A strange comment here, a twitch of the head or eyes there… it was as though there were multiple Nightshades vying for control of his body, and a gnawing fear was eating at Toothless. The Night Furies had all clamored for him to rule because of his strength, and yet the Alpha was not yet convinced that Nightshade was completely in control. And Antaris, ever the enigma, had not been seen since the dragonstone’s island-wide display of magic several days ago.

Perhaps his mind was racing to distract him from the upcoming battle; the first assault by the humans had been so sudden and ill-timed that Toothless had not afforded himself time to worry. And yet now, unfortunately, worry he did. With the Seregon Night Furies at their side—and Nightshade at the head of an army—surely they had nothing to fear? But if any harm were to come to Ash, Toothless would never forgive himself. And gods forbid something happened to him. How would Hiccup know—

“Here!”

Ash’s cheerful muttering to herself snapped Toothless out of his thoughts. He hastily descended with her as the entrance the grotto approached, Aylan’s crescent peak looming over their heads. As they entered, they beheld the sight of the great silver tree glittering with the afternoon rays, the pond beneath shining green amidst the surrounding fauna. The crevice in the tree that normally housed the emerald dragonstone was empty, a detail that did not go unnoticed by Toothless. Nightshade and Holly were lazily stretched along the giant tree roots, evidently in the midst of a serious—but not hostile—conversation, which they broke off as they heard the young Night Furies approach.

“Ah, there you are! I trust the work is going smoothly.” Nightshade greeted, stretching catlike before climbing down from the tree. “Ash, if you wouldn’t mind, I think Holly wanted to talk to you about something. You go along with her, I want to talk with Toothless in private.”

Toothless’s ears flattened, though his facial expression remained blank. Ash gave him a sheepish smile as Holly descended from the tree, and the two females took off without a word. 

As his head turned to watch them go, the sudden hiss of what sounded like steam brought Toothless’s attention back to the grotto. The giant shape that had previously been Nightshade was now a great cloud of smoke; as the Night Fury watched curiously, the smoke faded, revealing a familiar human in the midst of coughing and waving the clouds away. The human Nightshade stepped out of the smoke, taking in gasps of fresh air.

“I really do have to fix that... My transformations are a little out of practice.” Nightshade weezed, stepping back to sit down on the pond’s stone edge. 

To Toothless’s surprise, he reached into the water, pulling out the ornate greatsword that he had possessed at their first meeting. How long had that been in there? Taking the long edge of his black coat, Nightshade began to clean the weapon thoughtfully, which showed neither rust nor damage.

“How exactly do you transform?” The question left Toothless’s mouth before he knew it; admittedly, he had been wondering about the magic for some time.

Nightshade looked up mid-polish. “It’s difficult to explain… I wasn’t always able to use magic myself. When I first found the dragonstones it was trial and error to discover their powers, and plenty of things happened by accident. The first time I realized Antaris was able to manipulate the world around him, it was because I made a derogatory remark towards him without knowing that he was actually a sentient creature.”

Toothless snorted. “I can’t imagine that ended well.”

“No, indeed.” Nightshade chuckled, continuing to polish his greatsword. “When I came too I had pink skin and hair, but not enough to stop the shivering of being completely naked. My first days as a human were miserable. Over time I learned how to do the simple things—dress, use tools, write—but I wasn’t actually able to transform between forms until my little accident. ”

“Meaning the Cataclysm?”

Nightshade did not answer right away, silently wiping the greatsword clean before examining it. “I was only a few dozen feet away from Haronar when he exploded. Whatever magic leached into my body gave me the power to change from human to dragon at will, among other things… But it requires focus, imagination, harnessing the ability to will your inner essence into an alternative form. Antaris tried to give me lessons, but eventually I stopped transforming altogether. I didn’t want to see my true self again… at least until you young people came around.”

“I see. I think I understand.” Toothless said, lowering himself to the ground and curling up. “Can I ask you something?”

“I’m all ears.”

“What made you decide to come back? Really.”

Nightshade absentmindedly pulled a smooth grey stone from his pocket, bringing its edge along the blade of his weapon as he thought. When he spoke, his tone was low and contemplative. 

“I wasn’t really sure why I bothered to follow you both back, to be honest.” he admitted, lazily letting small rays of sun dance off the blade of his weapon. “I didn’t see any point. What could I do now that would make up for my actions, my inactions… but I was intrigued by Ash’s spirit, and how strong you both were to attempt such a journey. And you are a very interesting dragon, I will admit. I suppose in the end, I figured it wouldn’t change much.”

Toothless eyed him closely, searching for any hint of dishonesty or distraction, but Nightshade’s expression revealed nothing. “And here you are… king of the Night Furies.”

“Yes, well, there’s that.” Nightshade snorted, waving the greatsword in a mock salute. “All hail… honestly I expected more of the Night Furies to hate me, for their parents and grandparents to have thrown dirt on my name. But I suppose they think I can offer them a better future, even if my past directly led to their present.”

Gently leaning his greatsword against the rocks, Nightshade pointed at Toothless intensely. “And speaking of the future, I had questions of my own. Starting some ‘academic’ curiosities of mine…” Reaching into the lining of his coat, Nightshade pulled out a small, leather bound journal.

As he carefully undid the binding, a familiar scent touched Toothless’s nose, and his blood ran cold. Immediately leaping from his restful posture, he couldn’t stop himself snarling.

“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!” How in the hell did he get Hiccup's drawing book?! Was Hiccup alright?!

“Relax, my friend.” Nightshade said calmly, paying no mind to the enraged Night Fury before him as he read. “I swear on the memory of my mother that I obtained this through completely peaceful means.” Flipping to his desired page, Nightshade turned the notebook towards Toothless.

“This is you, right?”

Despite his rage, the Alpha couldn’t help but lean in. The charcoal drawing in question was older and weathered; a sketch of a sleeping Night Fury, with a young woman gently resting in the grass against the slumbering dragon. Toothless’s expression softened — he hadn’t seen this drawing before, but knew exactly where it was from. One of Hiccup and Astrid’s first real dates, drawn while taking a break in a meadow. Her clothes were from years back, the lines slightly uneven, but still a skilled drawing from his human.

“I told you that I think you’re interesting, and I wasn’t lying.” Nightshade said, gently closing the book. “You realize how unlikely it is—no, impossible—for humans and dragons to actually befriend one another, let alone coexist as a society? Yet you and this ‘Hiccup’ fellow managed it, I knew it from the moment I saw that intricate tailfin of yours. I’m almost three centuries old and have never seen such a thing, so you’ll forgive me for taking a little investigative trip.”

“In fact, I was impressed even more with your friendship when I got there. He really let you miss his wedding for this, huh?”

Toothless’s ears fell flat. “Don’t remind me.”

“I’m not criticizing!” Nightshade explained, hands raised in defence. “I really mean it… it’s fascinating, extraordinary even. That a human and a dragon care for each other as you and Hiccup do, and that your bond has had such a meaningful impact on others. It’s quite special.”

His misgivings aside, Toothless relaxed, resuming his place on the ground. Nightshade really did seem sincere. “I appreciate the compliment. But king or no, I’m taking that book back to Hiccup, because I know you didn’t ask for it.”

Nightshade grinned. “True, and you certainly may. I only picked it up to marvel at Hiccup’s inventions… which might come in handy against future aggressors, if you catch my meaning.”

Ah, there it is. So Nightshade was plotting something after all. Toothless wondered what exactly the ancient dragon could’ve derived from Hiccup’s notes, but his thoughts were interrupted by Nightshade.

“The dragon hunters will be dealt with, for good this time. But your future as a Night Fury, well, concerns me just as much.”

The Alpha tilted his head in interest. “What do you mean?”

“Do you love her?”

The question took Toothless aback, but his answer was firm. “With all my heart.”

“More than your home? Than your human?”

Toothless clenched his jaw, unsettled by Nightshade’s inquiry. “It’s not that simple.”

“You're right, it isn’t.” Nightshade eyed him thoughtfully, his golden eyes glittering in the sun. “And it’s not something that should be weighing on you right now. Whether you meant it or not there are Night Furies out there who think very highly of you now, who look to you for leadership. And it’s not because you're an Alpha. It’s because they know you care.”

“I know that!’ Toothless snapped hastily, before regaining his composure. “I just want her to be happy. She’s already lost enough, but she has so much ahead of her. I can’t ask her to give that up for me.”

Nightshade grinned. “And you won’t have to.”

Toothless was in the midst of a retort, but the king's reply gave him pause. “What’s that mean?”

“I think you two are great together, and I hope you make each other very happy. But I also know how important you are back home.” Nightshade stood up, slowly beginning to pace. “I have sworn to protect Mystholm, and restore our race to our former glory. But I also know that there are many humans and dragons that not only will see that as a threat, but see each other as threats as well.”

“Humanity has grown in my time away, and that brings them ever more into conflict with dragonkind. Berk’s way of life has shown me a path towards a bright future, and it’s in both of our interests to make sure that continues to flourish. So I’ll make you a deal.”

“I’m listening.”

Nightshade turned to face Toothless, hands clasped behind his back. “Help us win this fight, put your personal conflicts to the side just for a moment. And when the battle is over I will figure out a way to bridge the gap between Berk and Mystholm, just for you and Ash. You can be part of both worlds if you wish, and Berk will be able to benefit from whatever aid I can offer. Within reason, as I’m sure you’d agree.”

Toothless eyed the nonhuman carefully, searching his own thoughts for a reply. He knew full well that Nightshade was capable of something like this, but would he come to regret it? Was exposing Berk to Night Furies—to say nothing of the dragonstones—worth any harm it may cause? Part of him still didn’t entirely trust Nightshade, but the Alpha’s misgivings about him fell far behind his desire to be with Ash.

“Swear to me that Ash will survive the battle. And that no harm will come to Berk from being introduced to this place.”

“I won’t lie to you, Toothless.” Nightshade spoke forcefully, stepping forward slowly. “The dragonstones will not interfere, which means despite our gathered numbers this will be bloody. There will be great losses, and I will not insult Ash by forcing her to stay behind. But I will watch over her, as I know you will too.”

As Toothless watched, Nightshade reached into his coat towards his back hip. With his hand emerged an ornate dagger of the same design and quality of his sword, with an ivory handle and assorted gems. Making direct eye contact with Toothless, Nightshade slowly ran the blade along his outstretched palm. A stream of red gushed towards the earth, but the old king neither flinched nor averted his gaze as he clenched his fist.

“I, Nightshade, son of Skyclimber, swear on my blood to uphold my vows to you. May my death be slow, my suffering deep should I break my word.”

Toothless had never seen an oath taken in this fashion, personally wishing he wouldn’t be expected to do something similar. Settling for a low bow before Nightshade, the Alpha replied. “And I swear to fight for our people, to protect this place with all my strength. To protect Ash.”

Looking up, Toothless watched in astonishment as Nightshade flexed his hand, the gaping wound already starting to close. As the dripping of blood stopped, Nightshade knelt down to wipe his dagger on the grass.

“Well, now that that’s settled, we have some work to be done!” Nightshade exclaimed. Dusting his knees off as he stood up, he returned his dagger to its hidden place inside his coat. 

“Come, I could use your help deciphering some of these notes. I have a few surprises in store for the fleet when it arrives. Oh, and Toothless?”

“Yes?”

Nightshade’s golden eyes twinkled. “You never have to bow to me again.”

Elsewhere…

“He’s not in trouble, is he?”

“No, dear. Nightshade just had some questions about humans, that's all.”

Ash and Holly were in the midst of climbing upwards, quickly ascending to the top of Aylan’s mountain. The young dragoness hoped that whatever Nightshade wanted from Toothless was of no consequence, but Toothless hadn’t seemed too thrilled to talk to him. He had been much more silent than usual since the assembly of Night Furies, throwing himself into preparations, and Ash could tell something was bothering him that she would ask about later. But for now, she had more immediate curiosities.

“Where exactly are we going?” she asked.

“Over the mountain to the shoreline.” Holly replied. “There’s a pack of Watchers that are supposed to meet me.”

“Oh,” Ash said, puzzled. “So… why am I coming with you?”

“You’ll see, it's a surprise.”

Surprise? Ash thought, as they passed over the peak of the mountain. The Eyrie was fully visible in the clear horizon, belching clouds of grey smoke as the two Night Furies glided down the rocky cliffs. Ash could see what looked like five or six dragons resting on the cliff at the island’s edge, growing steadily larger as they sailed through the air. They landed softly, perched on the jagged rocks just a few feet from the pack; each Watcher was around her size, their signature red markings crossing their faces.

“I believe you two know each other.” Holly remarked warmly, gesturing with a wing. 

As Ash turned her head, one of the older looking Watchers moved out of the way, revealing a young female around her age. Orange eyes looked back at her, and Ash stared in disbelief.

“A—Amber?!”

The young Watcher—previously eyeing her matriarch—turned her attention to Ash, her eyes widening.

“Ash! You’re alive!”

In an instant the two Night Furies leapt forward, gently bumping their foreheads together. Pulling back, Ash looked her childhood friend up and down. She appeared completely fine, exactly like the last time they had met—minus the Watcher claw markings across her left eye.

“Where have you been?!” Ash questioned. “Did you fight in the battle?”

“No, I was back at the Eyrie!” Amber replied, almost hopping with childlike excitement. “I heard what you did, I have so many questions… I mean, with your permission, my lady.” she paused, lowering her head towards Holly.

Smiling warmly, Holly nodded. “You two run along, I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”

With the other Watchers backing up to give them room, the two females spread their wings and took off in the direction of the open water. Ash felt a burst of joy at seeing Amber alive and well, grateful beyond belief that her transgressions had not been punished. Speaking of which…

“What on earth happened to you?” Ash called out as they raced away from Aylan, turning so their path would take them around the island. “Last time I saw you, you told your mother about the human city you guys destroyed, and then you vanished!”

Amber slowed down to match Ash’s speed, giving her a sheepish look. “Yeah, I’m sorry… I know that must have looked really scary. But I did agree to secrecy, and I chose to break it. Lady Holly didn’t feel the need to punish me though, so I just got sent to do different tasks.”

“Let me guess, you’re not supposed to talk about those ‘tasks’ either,” Ash remarked.

“No, I’m not. That might all change though!” Amber chirped, playfully corkscrewing through the air. “Now that Nightshade’s in charge, the Watcher’s might serve a different purpose. Speaking of Nightshade, I heard you had quite the adventure after I left. Let’s hear it!”

Sighing, Ash began to recount her journey from the beginning as they flew around Aylan. The two dragonesses talked even as the sun began to lower, with Amber having many questions concerning Ash’s travels. She marvelled at her descriptions of Berk and recoiled at the mention of the Waste’s, Ash trying her best to leave nothing to the imagination.

“So…” Amber asked teasingly. “Once all this is over… you going to make this Toothless your mate, or what?”

Ash felt the inside of her chest grow warm at the mention of his name. “That’s none of your business.”

“C’mon, I saw how your eyes lit up every time you mentioned him.” Amber quipped, her eyes sparkling in the setting sun. “You like him, I can tell.”

You don’t know the half of it, Ash thought, but bit her tongue. When she finally replied, her tone was much less cheerful. “We talked for a bit about our future… If we both survive this battle, he’ll still have to go home and I’ll have new responsibilities here. I don’t know what it’s going to look like.”

“Hey, don’t worry about that right now.” Amber chimed supportingly. “If you two really care for each other, you’ll find a way to make it work. Just get past the impending human invasion first, and you’ll be fine!”

Unable to stifle a sarcastic laugh, Ash smiled. “You’re right. Amber?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Amber shot Ash a draconic grin. “You too, friend.”

Ash looked out towards the setting sun, settling her doubts. By the stars, I hope we all survive this.

While the two female Night Furies were making up for lost time, Holly had promptly turned to the remaining Watchers, who bowed low before their matriarch.

“How are preparations going?” she asked gently.

An older male dragon stepped forward, matching her gaze. “Scouting parties are in place on all the northern islands. We’ll know as soon as the humans approach. Talon will be leading a group of Seregon Night Furies to fight with Aylan’s dragons, while his father commands the large majority of them on their own.”

“Good, Nightshade will be pleased.” Holly lowered her voice. “And what about your… other progress?”

The male’s expression was devoid of emotion. “There were several minor injuries, but it’s done,” he said. “The artifact has been uncovered. Herentir is guarding the entrance, as usual.”

Holly’s amber eyes narrowed. “Excellent. She’ll be sufficient. Order the remaining Watcher’s to clear the Eyrie and join us here.” The ancient queen looked out to sea, towards the looming volcano.

“It’s time to reclaim our place in the world.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 20: Welcoming Visitors

“Lord Ragnar, wake up!”

Jolting upright, the lord of Velesheim instinctively withdrew a hand from under the wool bedroll. As the handle of a sharp blade emerged, he paused as his eyes focused in the dimly lit cabin. It was only Halfdan, his brow dotted with beads of sweat. Letting his muscles relax, Ragnar placed the knife back under the bedroll before rubbing his eyes. 

“You asked me to wake you when—”

“I know what I said.” Ragnar stood up gingerly, rubbing his neck as he pulled a grey robe from its hanging place on the wall. “How close are we?”

“We’re able to see the first islands of Mystholm on the horizon. The dawn’s just breaking.” Halfdan reported, before closing the door. 

Only dawn? Ragnar breathed a sigh of relief as he began to dress. The timing of their arrival couldn’t have been better, with the dark sky just beginning to brighten through the window outside. The old hunter marveled at the chances, having been extremely concerned about the prospect of reaching Mystholm at the onset of night. If there were Night Furies here, Ragnar would give them no advantage while he could help it.

A short time later the door to the cabin opened with a thud, Lord Ragnar emerging in full battle dress: a flexible cuirass of silver plate with matching boots—chest piece and gauntlets each carrying the golden chalice of Velesheim—with a red cloak of reptilian skin clasped around his neck. His glaive clunked against the wooden deck, its blade reflecting the light of the Endeavor’s many torches. Ragnar observed the frenzy of soldiers rushing to prepare, greeting some who turned to salute their lord. The fleet had suffered no setbacks since their departure from Berk, their stores remained reasonably stocked, and the men were well-rested. Just as it should be.

And as lord Ragnar made his way to the bow of the Endeavor, he said a quick prayer in his head for his wife and daughter. May I find the strength to fight to return to both of you, should there be great bloodshed. He found Halfdan already at the frontmost edge of the deck, gripping the side of the ship firmly. Placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder, Ragnar felt his spirit leap. Whatever else may come, this was still a new land, a new journey.

“Still feeling seasick, Halfdan?” he joked, as the ship cut through the almost still water like a knife.

“I hoped that weeks at sea would’ve cured me, but I fear I overestimated myself.” Halfdan answered dryly. “Still, my sword arm is strong should you need it.”

“You know I will.” Ragnar said, squinting his eyes to make out the horizon. “Signal the fleet to prepare for a hunt. We’re finally here.”

As the horns sounded, Ragnar watched calmly as the dark sky began to grow steadily lighter. As the stars became less visible by the minute, the faint shape of land—two islands, spread far apart by the look of it—began to take form on the horizon. The fleet sailed on, Ragnar loosely resting his glaive on his shoulder as a third shape began to emerge. Two distant islands were now visible, one incredibly barren and rocky, while the other was small and appeared dotted with trees. And in between—like a great monument sprouting from the earth—lay a third island, an active volcano throwing a sheet of smoke into the air. They were finally crossing into the waters of Mystholm, the men of Velesheim ready to avenge their city.

As the fleet charged forward, Ragnar stroked his beard. Which island to search first? The barren island to the east looked completely devoid of life from a distance, yet its peaks and cliffs climbed high above the ocean level. A perfect place to hide from danger, if Ragnar were a dragon. The western island was much smaller, and Ragnar doubted that a large pack of dragons could conceal themselves easily there. The central island due south was the most obvious choice due to its size, but surely an active volcano was not safe to live under, even for dragons? The lord was so captured by his thoughts that he failed to perceive the occasional thud from below, until the faint commotion of men snapped him out of his concentration. The hell? he thought, racing to the side of the ship and leaning over the rail.

A large shape was floating in the water, having gently bounced off the hull as the Endeavor cut through the sea. His eyes narrowing, Ragnar looked closer as the sky around them continued to lighten; dawn was passing, the dark hues of night giving way to rays of pink and gold. But the colors brought no comfort to lord Ragnar, whose eyes finally were able to behold the mysterious shape—a large deer carcass, its neck torn open. Looking back up, the lord of Velesheim slowly walked back to the bow as the dark sea, rather than turn blue in the growing light, brightened in waves of red.

The bodies of innumerable animals lay still in the sea before them, various species of game and fish strewn about. A hush fell over the fleet as the ships made their way forward, entering the great cloud of blood-filled ocean. 

Ragnar marveled at the sheer waste of it all; what purpose did this serve? Intimidation? Surely dragons were not so arrogant that they could afford to waste precious food, if they were responsible for this at all. The scarce rumors of witchcraft from Mystholm crept back into Ragnar’s thoughts, only to be quickly suppressed by the aged hunter. 

“By the gods…” Halfdan whispered, having returned from signalling the fleet. “What manner of evil is this?”

“Pay it no mind.” Ragnar snapped. “Dead animals are of no cost to us. We move forward.”

“Wait, look!” Haldan yelled, pointing out to sea.

Ragnar turned just in time to see a corpse, some type of boar, vanish from the surface in a frenzy of splashes. Other animals began to vanish, dragged under by some mysterious force. Another thud against the Endeavor’s hull—much louder this time—prompted Ragnar and Halfdan to look over the edge, where they beheld an unwelcome visitor; a murky blue, serpent-like creature of several feet in length, it’s pale grey eyes motionless as it unsuccessfully attempted to bite the steel plate of the Endeavor.

“What the hell is that?!” Halfdan exclaimed, but Ragnar wasn’t listening. The serpent was clearly blind, so it had to be attracted to the smell of blood… which now filled all the water around them. By the gods…

“Tell the rest of the fleet to break formation and head to port, now!” Ragnar shouted, turning towards his men. “Ready spears and arrows!”

As Halfdan raced back to signal the fleet, sailors scrambled to ready ranged weapons as more ships began to enter the growing cloud of blood. Throwing down the glaive, Ragnar seized a longbow and quiver, nocking an arrow as the entire ocean began to come alive. More serpents were now devouring any corpse within reach, their jagged fins churning the water like grinding teeth, while the largest ones began to bash themselves against the hulls of the ships. 

Over 30 ships—including Endeavor—had already sailed directly into the corpse-laden waters before the rest of the fleet began to turn. Drawing the arrow back, Ragnar leaned over the edge, carefully aiming towards the water beneath the closest adjacent ship. He watched as a sailor threw a spear towards a pair of serpents, who appeared to be infants. One was hit squarely in the head; blank eyes splattered with black fluid as the serpent writhed in agony, while the second one ceased biting the ship and looked up, flashing dark gums.

A foul spray of mist shot up from the water’s surface, catching the sailor directly in the face. At once the man froze like a stone, carried by the weight of his posture over the rail and into the water. Ragnar released an arrow into the infant serpent, but it mattered little as the sailor vanished in a froth of bloody water. The men who attempted to skewer the younger serpents all found themselves assaulted by paralytic spray, while the fully grown wyrms continued to mindlessly attack the ships. The Endeavor remained unscathed, protected by its firm armour, but the other ships eventually began to crack under the stress of the barrage. Hunters screamed as hulls were breached, waves of red water pouring in accompanied by dark fins and rotting teeth. Ragnar fumed as he shot more arrows towards the sea, bleeding serpents joining the dead as the Endeavor finally broke into clear water. 

The old lord cursed fiercely as his ship turned to port, beholding a graveyard of listing ships and wriggling bodies in the water. The amount of lost vessels was negligible to the entire fleet, but Ragnar’s heart burned with anger. Not even an hour into their mission and he had been tricked, by who or what he had no answer. Whether it be sorcery or strategy he was clearly not dealing with some mindless rabble of dragons; these beasts were far more intelligent than he gave them credit for. But his forces remained mostly intact, and as the Endeavour steered east towards the rest of the fleet, their next destination lay ahead. The cracked island drew closer, its towering cliffs rising high above the armada below, while hunters switched to dragonroot weapons and readied catapults. Hoisting the bow over his shoulder, Ragnar regained his composure, his mind and heart how alert.

Did you enjoy my welcoming present?

Ragnar gasped, his hands reaching out to seize the railing as a wave of nausea overtook him. The question had emerged forcefully into his mind, almost like it had been shouted directly into his ear. But the lord of Velesheim was alone at the bow of the Endeavor. 

“What witchcraft is this?” He spoke to the empty air.

Oh, come now. You don’t really expect me to share my secrets with foreign invaders, do you? In any case, you have encroached on my dominion. Since you know nothing of what awaits you, I will give you the courtesy of allowing you to turn back.

“And why should I answer to someone who hides behind spells and traps?” Ragnar whispered, his eyes searching without success for the source of the voice. “We are only here to serve justice against the barbarity of dragons, and we will not be hindered!”

Barbarity? You sail on ships built from the profits of putting your fellow man in chains, from shady deals made by degenerate traders and drunken nobles, yet you claim vengeance when dragons seek to free those who you declared to be property.

Ragnar tried to steady his breathing as his head swam, but the voice continued. You think the virtue of honor and kindness can be felt only by man, and yet a fine job you humans do with them. Though I suppose your heart is more noble than most, even if your cause is false. If more humans valued their wives and daughters as much as you, they would not have the need for dragon pelts and gold coins.

Ragnar’s eyes flashed. “Do not speak of my family, demon. If you think you know all then show yourself and face me… unless this is just a trick!”

I know enough. I know you are a good man, Ragnar Ivarson, who is just trying to make his way in the world. I know you are loyal to your people, and loyal to your family. And I know that everyone around you is going to die if you don’t give up.

“My lord, are you alright?”

A hand gripped Ragnar’s shoulder, and he turned forcefully. Halfdan stood there, his face wracked with concern.

“I called for you… you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Halfdan uttered. 

Ragnar shook his head. “No matter, ready the catapults and the bolas. If the dragons are here, we’ll root them out.”

As Velesheim’s armada sailed on towards Seregon, other eyes lay in wait. Even from the beach of the Eyrie Ash could make out the ships on the horizon, the fleet leaving a small wreck of them where the Night Furies had laid their bait. The young dragoness swallowed hard, settling her nerves; there were so many more ships than the first attack, and yet even as they sailed east Ash knew the battle was already going in their favor. 

In one move Nightshade had changed the direction of the entire fleet towards a horde of Night Furies, guarded by tall cliffs and barren rock. The thought of the Ormr causing havoc in one big feeding frenzy made her want to retch, but it was a price they were willing to pay. Ash thought of Toothless, concealed in the trees on the western island with his own pack, and tried to ignore the gnawing dread in her; when Nightshade had asked her to join his main pack she didn’t refuse, but held onto hope that she wouldn’t regret separating from her love.

Turning her head to observe the other Night Furies around her, Ash paused. Nightshade was a few yards away at the front of the pack, his face slack and eyes unblinking. He stared straight ahead out to sea, his pupils razor thin, and the golden glow of his eyes shined so unnaturally bright under the trees that it illuminated the ground in front of him. 

“Nightshade, are you ok?” she called.

The ancient dragon blinked, snapping out of his trance, and his eyes returned to their normal glow. 

“I’m fine, Ash.” he answered, shooting her a toothy smile. “Just taking stock of who we’re dealing with. These humans are curious, much more nuanced than the brutes that attacked before.”

Before Ash could ask him exactly what he was talking about, the shuttering of tree branches caused the pack to snap into alert. From the darkness of the forest slunk a few dozen more Night Furies, all scarred and stone-faced. More Seregon dragons, she thought, craning her neck to see if Talon was among them. 

To her surprise—and displeasure—the shadows of the woods gave way to a monstrous shape; Angalon made his way through the pack, younger and smaller Night Furies hastily removing themselves from his path as he came to stand between her and Nightshade.

“I thought Talon was leading your reinforcements.” she said icily.

The great dragon turned, his ruby eyes surprisingly devoid of wrath. “He wished to meet the humans in battle first, and it will be good for him to lead a large force.” Angalon replied firmly. If Ash didn’t know better, she almost could detect a sense of pride in his tone.

“And I know from experience that the best fighting is always where Nightshade is.” the dragonlord barked, while Nightshade smiled thinly.

“You’re exaggerating, old friend.” 

“We’ll see by the next dawn if I am. The battle will be over by then.” Angalon countered, curling his withered tail around him. “Good hunting to us all.”

Ash turned back to the horizon, focused on nothing else but the fleet. It was going to be a long day, and an even longer night.

Elsewhere…

“We’re in range, my lord!”

The cliffs of the island rose high above their heads as lord Ragnar carefully scanned the pock-marked surface, searching for a way to land. But if there was a way to scale to the top it could not start from the ground, for the ocean seeped in between the rocks without walkable terrain. Whatever dragons were hidden here wouldn’t be able to be rooted out from the ground—they’d have to be scared out, and would likely come spilling from every hidden crack and crevice. So be it.

“Launch catapults!” he shouted.

The sound of a multitude of pulleys rang out across the fleet, every ship within range hurling its own ball of fire towards the island. Hundreds of projectiles peppered the rock face, shattering stone as though a great pan of embers had been thrown across it. Great chunks and splinters of stone showered from the cliffs in a cloud of ash and dust, falling into the sea in a commotion. Even before the smoke had cleared an unnatural shriek began to fill the air, painfully familiar to lord Ragnar; the same ear-piercing noise that had sounded in the night as Velesheim had been torched.

“Here we go… oh, gods.” Halfdan muttered.

Coal-black, stocky dragons began to spill out from every crack and crevice, swarming the cliffs like an angry horde of ants emerging from their hill. The growing horde of Night Furies began to take flight, gaining altitude to avoid the hail of dragonroot arrows that flew to meet them. White and purple bolts of fire began to fly left and right, up and down—within minutes the entire fleet was being swarmed. 

As he let loose another arrow, Ragnar privately thanked all the gods that they had arrived in the daytime, for these dragons were incredibly swift and agile, yet they blended together in one great canvas of black. Explosions rocked the fleet, most from direct shots of fire, but some from a black dragon crashing to the deck in agony.

The soldiers had doubtless ever encountered dragons of such speed and savagery; the Night Furies of this island were almost feral, each one sporting an assortment of scars and wounds on their bodies. The majority flew high enough above the fleet to avoid being riddled with arrows, but the few brave ones that swooped down took many lives before being brought down. The dragonroot arrows—which could render most dragons helpless—only seemed to work these Night Furies into a violent frenzy; they destroyed everything around them, but were thankfully unable to coordinate themselves well enough to avoid being slain. The horde simply fired as many shots as possible before spiraling upwards, taking shelter atop the unscalable cliffs.

Ragnar ducked swiftly as a Night Fury swooped down attempting to snatch him, the twang of multiple bows ringing out as the beast was shot down. The dragon crashed to the deck of the Endeavor, gnashing its teeth as the dragonroot rendered it flailing and wild. Dozens of soldiers rushed forward, nets and chains in hand, but they never made it far. A larger Night Fury landed on the deck in a flash of scales, seizing the nearest human and throwing him into the crowd. Ragnar rushed forward, retrieving his glaive from the deck as the dragon struck out with wings and tails, effortlessly sweeping sailors off their feet as two other black dragons descended to carry off their injured kin. As his hands gripped the handle of the glaive, Ragnar stood just in time for half of a soldier to be flung in his face, knocking him off his feet. Slipping on blood, the lord of Velesheim braced himself as the Night Fury loomed over him, ruby-red eyes seething with bloodlust.

The dragon slammed its paws to the deck, Ragnar rolling over just in time to avoid being crushed. Other sailors attempted to shoot the beast from behind, but its scales split in two down the entire length of its spine, the arrows unable to find flesh to stick in. Ragnar jumped quickly as a tail attempted to sweep him off his feet, swinging the glaive with all his strength as soon as he found his footing. The tip of the blade barely scratched the ear of the beast—it moved its head just in time, snarling towards Ragnar as though daring him to swing again. A cry from his right drew his attention as Halfdan rushed forward, sword drawn. The Night Fury spun, its tail striking his second-in-command in the shoulder.

But the distraction was enough; letting loose a roar, Ragnar buried his glaive deep into the Night Fury’s right eye. He grinned with satisfaction as the dragon whined in pain, but that satisfaction quickly died as the beast lunged forward, sinking the blade deeper into its own eye with no concern. His arms wrenched to the side, Ragnar fell to one knee as Halfdan screamed. The beast had taken most of his left arm in one bite, before spreading its wings and taking off vertically. Drops of fluid and loose objects flew everywhere and the glaive fell to the deck in a splatter of blood. 

Rushing forward to his friend's side, Ragnar tore off a strip of his cloak; he tightly began to wrap around what was left of Halfdan’s elbow, a raw oozing stump where his arm had been. Halfdan cried out in pain but held still as the wound was covered, the cloth already beginning to stain red.

“We need to sear the wound before you bleed out.” Ragnar muttered soberly, as his nostrils were assaulted by the smell of blood.

“You think?” Halfdan joked meekly, crying out again as the knot was tightened.

As the lord of Velesheim raced to save his friend from death the Night Furies continued to swarm upwards, largely fleeing the fight below. The sheer number of ships was too great for them to break, not while their bodies were easily pinpointed against the clear blue sky. But as the horde gathered atop the cliffs to regroup, another pack was already approaching from the water. The moment the fleet had begun their attack Toothless had taken off from his hiding place on the opposite island, a few dozen Night Furies at his back. Gaining all the speed he could muster, the Alpha streaked through the air in a burst of sound, releasing multiple plasma blasts before breaking hard to the right. The pack fired far enough away that they remained out of range of the ships, circling wide.

As he came around for another strike, Toothless’s eyes scoured the battlefield; fires were raging, the decks of ships strewn with rubble and bodies of Night Furies and humans alike. The main horde of Seregon was spiraling high above the fleet like a raging thundercloud, unable to break through the hail of arrows and bolas from so many ships. Much to Toothless’s dismay, their initial barrage had little effect. The rudders of each ship appeared to be coated in dragon-proof metal, the plasma shots exploding against them with no effect… or did they? The Night Fury watched the ship on the furthermost edge of the armada, its rudder slowly beginning to lean from its position until it snapped off completely. It fell into the water with a splash, its edges rotting away from some green, bubbling acid.

“It can’t be…”

It looked as though the plasma blast had shattered a jar nestled between the rudder and the stern, a large pot with what appeared to be metal lining the inside. Oil-like acid had burst from the pot, melting straight through the dragon-proof steel. Toothless recalled a memory from many years ago, watching Hiccup perform stressful experiments with Changewings while living on the Edge, and he felt himself smiling. This was his human’s doing; he didn’t know how, but he didn’t care. And this one small act of sabotage presented the Alpha with an opportunity.

“Alright, change of plan!” Toothless shouted as he hovered, the Night Furies surrounding him like a flock of birds. “Save your shots for the rudders and sails only! We’re going to make our way around and cripple as many ships on the edge of the fleet as we can! They’ll be pinned against Seregon’s rocks, so they’ll either have to fight without moving or push through their own ships to escape! That’ll buy us time for the day to pass!”

Surrounded by roars of approval, the Alpha of Berk swan-dived to resume the attack; the pack flew around the fleet in perfect synchronization, aiming for every reachable rudder and sail while staying out of reach of the hunter’s weapons. It did not take long for the ship captains to realize what was happening, the catapults being turned from the island towards the perimeter of the fleet. But by then the damage was done; the great armada was now fenced in by Seregon’s cliffs on one side, a ring of disabled ships around them. As he shattered another of Hiccup’s jars—sending Changewing acid spewing across the rudder of another vessel—Toothless looked as sailors on various ships began to grab signal flags, waving blue cloth in the air. Instinctively, he turned to gain altitude.

“Pull up! We’ll regroup with Seregon!” he ordered, the signal flags filling him with unease.

One younger Night Fury with amethyst eyes did not share his sentiment. “But we’re safe at this distance, we should keep lighting them up!”

“Don’t argue with me! PULL UP!”

The moment of hesitation was all it took. A stray arrow, now coated with a sticky blue substance, struck the young Night Fury in the chest. Toothless’s concern at the wound turned to horror as the Night Fury shuddered in mid air, then went limp. The Alpha shrieked in desperation as he tried to catch the dragon, but he was too late. 

The Night Fury crashed into the ocean, and never moved again. 

Toothless let out a roar of fury, the rest of the pack not daring to question his order as they streaked upwards. Turning away from his fallen comrade, Toothless abandoned the fight for the moment. The remaining Night Furies that harassed the fleet all fled, taking shelter in the towering rocks that couldn’t be reached from the ocean. 

Lord Ragnar took a moment to rest against the mast of the Endeavor, trying to distract himself from the sound of burning flesh as a soldier cauterized Halfdan’s wound. The battle was already descending into chaos, and he feared it would only get worse, but he commended the bravery of his men. All across the fleet men confidently ran to douse fires, patch up injuries, and distribute more projectile weapons—all coated in blue sap. Blue oleander was a costly thing to ship to Velesheim, but the old hunter knew its fatal effects well; they were going to need every advantage they could get. He did not yet know that his fleet was now trapped, nor that the events of the day were still being observed from afar.

Many miles away, Nightshade stood silently, his eyes beholding far more than any other Night Fury could observe from the Eyrie. A hunger had begun to gnaw at him, the dark thrill of a warrior who found himself longing for battle too much. The ancient dragon knew full well that Angalon shared his hunger, but the time was not right. Not yet. He waited unmoving as dragons and humans licked their wounds from the first battle, everyone knowing that the carnage had only just begun.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: The Fracture

The oceans of Mystholm were eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional creak of a ship or a flutter of wings. The humans aboard their vessels waited, every available weapon pointed directly upwards should any threat cross over the cliff’s edge. Atop one of Seregon’s peaks rested hundreds of Night Furies, many unharmed but several sporting severe injuries, but none dared to fly over the edge; the danger was too great, the stalemate too equal. 

Toothless walked amongst the Night Furies hastily, an image of composure to the outside, but his inner thoughts were in turmoil. They had been waiting in a stalemate for the last two hours, and he still couldn’t shake his last memory of battle—the young and eager Night Fury crashing lifeless into the sea. But despite his inner shock Toothless remained composed, making his way through the swarm until he came across a pair of large warriors from Seregon. The two were heavily scarred with old and new wounds alike, yet they stood tall.

“Where’s Talon?” Toothless asked firmly, approaching the two slowly.

The first looked at him like one eyeing an unsavory creature; the other was not so rude. But his answer filled Toothless with dread.

“We don’t know.” He admitted, his voice filled with apprehension. “I last saw him attack the flagship to save a downed dragon, but we haven’t seen him since.”

Oh, no. Toothless turned his head to look over the crowd, hoping that he would catch a glimpse of ruby eyes, but there was nothing. If he wasn’t here, then he had to be down below, amongst the wreckage. The Alpha suddenly felt incredibly alone, surrounded by Night Furies who neither knew him nor respected him; and all things considered, Talon was a friend, and he was out there somewhere. But the human’s firepower was too great to attack from above, and they had many hours left until the sun set. Either that, or the humans move their damaged ships out of the way and flee for a more vulnerable island. They had to use their time wisely.

“Who among you is the fastest flier? Speak up!” He called out to the crowd, which began to murmur amongst themselves.

“I’m not too shabby, why?” 

Toothless turned towards the voice, observing a young female with orange eyes. She was sleek and muscular, several thin trails of blood crossing her left eye.

“A Watcher?” he asked curiously. “What are you doing here?”

“Lady Holly sent some of us younger ones to provide support, add some speed to the packs.” She replied, rustling her wings in anticipation. “That’s what you need, right? Watchers are pretty good at long distance flights quickly.”

Toothless smiled. “Perfect, because I need you to fly to the Eyrie. I’ve got a message for Nightshade.”

A short time later…

“Ash! There you are!”

Ash’s ears perked up, and she lifted her head from its resting place in her paws. The pack of Night Furies in the forests of the Eyrie had been resting for some time, but now all were alert as Amber swooped down, leaves crunching beneath her.

“Have you seen the king?” Amber exclaimed, struggling to catch her breath.

A large shadow rose from the ground, Nightshade’s golden eyes peering through the undergrowth. “I’m here. Take a breath, child. Did you come from Seregon?”

“I did, your majesty.” Amber stepped forward, briefly stopping to nuzzle Ash. “The Night Furies are pinned up on the mountain, they can’t cross the edge of the cliff without being met by fire. But the human’s aren’t going anywhere fast, something’s wrong with some of their ships. They’re stuck, for now at least.”

“So what's wrong with burning them where they lay now?” a dark voice called from the forest floor. Angalon didn’t even bother to open his eyes, but his tone oozed with contempt. “So much for being an Alpha dragon. I knew his love for humans was foolish.”

Ash’s blood boiled, but Amber beat her to a retort. “Or maybe he’s just smart!” She shot back, anxiously looking at the ancient Night Fury before turning back to Nightshade. “And the humans have some kind of blue poison, I’ve never seen it before… but it's fatal, and they have lots of it.”

Ash could see that something was off in Amber’s expression, especially when she looked at Angalon. So could Nightshade, evidently, who whispered something in her ear. Whatever she whispered back caused the large dragon’s eyes to narrow sharply.

“Thank you, child. Take a moment to rest.”

“Nightshade, I’d like a word. In private.”

Heads turned towards the woods to find Holly, the sun lightly shining on her smooth scales from between the trees. Glancing at Ash briefly, Nightshade turned to follow his mate into the woods. 

The moment he was gone, Amber hastily trotted over to Ash, nodding her head away from the pack. The two wordlessly began walking along the length of the beach, still under the cover of trees, until Ash was sure they were out of earshot before rounding on her friend.

“What did you say to him? Is it bad?”

Amber fidgeted, her orange eyes frantically looking over Ash’s shoulder. “You think Angalon can hear us? The very sight of him makes my scales crawl.”

“Why would he care?” Ash questioned. “Amber, what happened—”

“Talons gone!” She hissed, silencing Ash. “No one can find him, and Toothless is having them shelter on the cliffs until they can fight in the dark.”

A hollow ache spread through Ash’s chest. “Gone? How?!” He can’t have fallen, not him…

“He went to attack the flagship, and no one’s seen him since!” Amber frantically whispered. “But I couldn’t say that in front of Angalon! He’d lose it, and all our plans would be for nothing. He’d attack them right now and all of Seregon would go with him. They’d get slaughtered!”

Unbeknownst to Ash, they were not the only pair of Night Furies discussing the lord of Seregon. Having walked deep into the forest, Nightshade stopped, turning to face Holly.

“I take it that something's bothering you?” He asked inquisitively.

Holly sighed; he knew her too well. “Even if we take heavy losses, the humans will never win and you know it.”

Nightshade’s eyes gazed into her own, unblinking. “No, they won’t. They’ll never survive the night, and we just make sure to take as little losses until then. But you know that too… So what's really on your mind?”

Holly stepped closer to her mate, her closeness warming his scales. “I’ve been thinking about Toothless, about his relationship with humans… if they can have peace, can’t we?”

“Perhaps, but there are consequences on both sides.” Nightshade replied. “We made a vow to Angalon—no survivors.”

Holly fell silent for a moment, choosing her next words carefully.

“We made a mistake.” 

Her eyes burned with conviction. “We may have needed his army at the time but you are now his king. You’re far too strong to challenge now and he knows it… but if you let him kill them all, more are sure to come.”

“They could come either way.”

“They could, but aren’t the chances better?” Holly questioned. “In our youth coexistence was a figment of imagination, but now we have proof it works! And with your powers, you can actually talk to them. If they know we will accept surrender, show them mercy, they may remember it later.”

Nightshade’s face was stone, yet his eyes were alight with contemplation. “Assuming they listen.”

Holly closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his chest. “We would never have even considered mercy in our youth, but times have changed. I don’t want this one battle to turn into years of slaughter. There’s too few of us left.” she admitted.

“It may already become one…” Nightshade countered. “That young Watcher just told me Talon’s gone missing. If Angalon finds out, all hell will break loose.”

Holly pulled back, her eyes wide. “What?”

“I can’t tell him, not yet, or else all your fears will come true. He’ll rain fire upon them, and take half of his dragons out in the process.” Nightshade’s eyes glowed brighter. “But you’re right. For better or worse, we cannot slaughter them like stepping on ants. We must be better.” 

“But we still can’t sit here and let the humans rest on their boats until nightfall, or else they’ll sail to an empty island they can fortify. And that fight will be just as bad.” Nightshade fell silent, deep in thought, and Holly could see a sliver of fear in his eyes. Not of the humans, but of the battle. Of himself.

“Whatever you decide, I will be with you. Always.” 

Nightshade smiled, leaning his head down to nuzzle her gently. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Moments later…

“Alright, listen up!”

Ash and Amber spun around as Nightshade and Holly glided through the trees, landing hard in front of the pack. Angalon cracked one eye open, but did not rise from his slumber.

“We still have several hours before nightfall, and the humans are extremely well-armed,” Nightshade began, his voice echoing with power. “But we have to keep them distracted until then so they can’t regroup. Amber, right?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Amber replied, lowering her head.

The ancient dragon regarded her warmly. “Fly back around the island and relay all I’ve said to Toothless. No one attacks until nightfall, when I give the signal!” Nightshade stretched his wings in anticipation. “I’m going to engage the fleet until then.”

“By yourself?” she started. “You could get hurt! Or killed!”

“That’s extremely unlikely.” Holly interjected. “His scales are impenetrable. But either way, he’s not going alone.”

Nightshade turned his head in mock-surprise. “Oh, really?”

Holly grinned. “I don’t care how magical you are, I’ll always be the faster flier. I’ve got your back.”

Leaves rustled and crunched as a large shadow rose from the ground. Angalon cracked his neck as he yawned, exposing rows of blackened teeth. “If you think you can leave me here with these children, you’re mistaken.” 

He came to stand beside Nightshade, the two dragons towering over the rest as the trio of elders looked out to sea towards Seregon.

“Well, I suppose it’s just like old times.” Nightshade quipped, rows of scales sprouting along the length of his spine.

“It’s been ages since the three of us fought as the team.” Holly admitted. “Though I expect the outcome of this fight to be better than last time.”

Angalon huffed, smoke emerging from his nostrils. “I’ll take a human armada over fighting Runar any day until death.”

“Alright, enough nostalgia.” Nightshade barked. “I’ll give a signal when it’s time. Everyone except Amber, stay here.”

With that, the three ancient Night Furies took to the air, scattering leaves and dust everywhere. The three twisted into a triangle formation effortlessly, like giant blots of ink on a clear sky as they streaked away towards the battle. Amber also took off, but instead of heading directly for Seregon, she turned east until the young dragoness was sure no one could see her through the treeline. 

She halted in wait—hovering for no more than a few minutes—before another shadow broke out of the woods.

“Did anyone see you?” Amber called out.

Ash panted, coming to a stop in front of her friend. “Maybe, but no one followed or asked questions. C’mon, let's go.”

As the two took off for Seregon as fast as they could, Ash’s heart was racing. She didn’t care if she was defying Nightshade’s orders; he would understand. Someone had to try and find Talon—he had already done so much for her, defying so many of his people’s expectations. But he was still Angalon’s son; if he died, their entire alliance could fracture. And Ash tried not to think of what would happen to Toothless, surrounded by Seregon Night Furies…

On the Endeavor…

Lord Ragnar strode purposefully among his soldiers towards the wheel—outwardly tranquil, inwardly roiling with fury. It was bad enough to be pinned against the cliffs of an island, a swarm of dragons waiting above. But a ring of disabled ships hemming in his fleet—that was salt in the wound. The image of Hiccup Haddock swam across his vision, and his hands curled into fists. He was the only explanation for how so much dragon proof metal had evidently melted in acid, blocking the fleet from retreat. If he survived this, the lord of Velesheim vowed to return to Berk, not for battle, but at least to have words with that crafty Viking.

Those amongst the humans without weapons pointed at the sky were in the throes of labor, straining to fill their lord's command with haste. Ragnar had ordered the disabled ships to be emptied of men and supplies, to be rammed through and abandoned while they had the chance. They had to move the fleet to the opposite island—to flat ground that could be fortified—and they might regain a chance at victory.

“My lord, look!”

A sailor was pointing out to sea. Ragnar strode to the railing of the Endeavor, gazing hard towards the horizon. He could only make out the distant island to the south, its volcano lightly filling the sky with white clouds. The ocean was clear… except for three shapes, almost mirages on the rippling water. They were moving fast, much faster than any of the Night Furies had moved thus far. But as they approached, Ragnar’s face was set; they were Night Furies indeed. But only three?

“Dragons to the south! Prepare harpoons!”

Soldiers scrambled to turn a few ballistas towards the open ocean. The dragons were getting closer, and Ragnar’s face fell. The closer they got, the more evident it became that they were not normal Night Furies; two of them were frighteningly large, while the third shone in the sunlight, moving with unnerving precision. A whine of noise was building up, escalating to a shriek, and Ragnar saw them; golden eyes peered directly at him, and his chest went cold.

“Shoot them! Now!”

One of the outermost ships was still in the midst of evacuation — its sailors ducked as a harpoon flew overhead, heading straight for the closest Night Fury. Ragnar smiled with anticipation as it scored a direct hit, which instantly vanished as the harpoon blunted and shattered. 

The beast flew directly over the first ship, scales unscathed, unleashing a blast that instantly destroyed the ballista. The sailors on the disabled vessel turned back, only to see a grotesquely scarred Night Fury with fiery red eyes ram the boat head on. The deck buckled, wood splintering as the dragon howled, seizing the closest human and smashing his head on the deck. The third flew high overhead, masterfully dodging projectiles with ease as it fired shot after shot.

Ragnar’s hand reached for his bow—evidently useless against the first Night Fury now tearing through his ranks—but he forced his voice steady.

“Fire at will!”

Arrows and harpoons were flying at random, and yet the trio of Night Furies was undeterred; the red-eyed monstrosity pushed a flaming mast onto one ship as it leapt onto the deck of another, its jaw dripping with blood as it fought with tooth and claw. Any attempt by another ship to turn a ballista towards the beast was immobilized by the graceful dragon above. But Ragnar had eyes only for the third—the golden-eyed creature tactically made its way from ship to ship, shattering decks or breaking masts at their center, littering humans with splinters and falling debris. Ragnar dropped his bow and sprinted onto the main deck, his hand clasping around a wrapped net with stone weights. Reaching one of the Endeavor’s many ballistas, he firmly pushed aside its wielder, loaded the weapon, and took aim.

The weapon fired with a clank, the large net unfurling as it flew, and the Night Fury turned its head. Ragnar watched as the net sailed towards the beast, its golden eyes looking directly at him.

The Night Fury vanished.

One moment there, gone the next. Ragnar gaped, astonished, until the sound of rushing air rang out over his head, and the lord of Velesheim was suddenly engulfed in shadow.

Oh, fuck—

Ragnar instinctively crouched, his hands dragging his cloak to envelop him. A bolt of plasma smashed into the ballista, sending him flying. Embers flew off his cloak as Ragnar groaned, fighting to stand up—but the Night Fury had moved on to another ship. His fist curled, slamming the deck in now unconcealed rage. This was the demon, the one playing games with him. Did its power have no end?

While the lord of Velesheim strained to compose himself in the face of the ancient dragon’s onslaught, two shadows silently made their way through Seregon’s seaside tunnels and ravines. Ash hurriedly twisted and turned, trying to find her way to the island’s edge, with Amber following close behind. C’mon, c’mon, this has to be it…

She turned into sunlight, but immediately clung to the rock wall, her heart beating fast against it. Chaos reigned everywhere, large numbers of ships in disarray as the three elder Night Furies wreaked havoc upon them. Nightshade was untouchable, his expression almost amused, like an adult enjoying a game against children. Holly was a wondrous display of grace, her speed and agility in the air almost a thing of art for a dragon. But Angalon was terrible to behold, eyes burning like flaming rubies as human after human died in agony, and Ash’s fear only deepened. 

Thankfully, the humans aboard their ships were now very much occupied, oblivious to the two Night Furies peering out from the cracks in the cliff. Ash’s eyes flickered around the fleet rapidly, searching the devastation for any sign of dragon life. Dozens of Night Furies lay dead, either filling the water with blood or draped like curtains from landing on ships; the sight made Ash want to sob, or vomit, but she had time for neither. She continued looking for any sign of life, any hint that Talon made it out alive; some of the boats were already beginning to sink, the crushed piles of debris beginning to slip under the water—

Her eyes caught movement; one of the ships—a few rows away from the metal-clad flagship—was slowly sinking, its hull almost completely crushed in a great pile of splintered boards. But as Ash watched, the boards shifted, like a wooden beast taking a breath… as though something was buried under it. 

“There, that ship! Someone’s trapped!”

“Ash, wait!” Amber cried, but Ash was already moving; she launched off the rock, wings unfurling to glide as swiftly as she could. She hurriedly flew her way between the ships, their occupants still distracted by the inferno above, and in a moment found herself atop the pile of wreckage. Her weight caused the boat to buckle, but not enough to sink faster as she snatched boards in her jaws and threw them aside. Ash focused on nothing else but lessening the pile of rubble, lifting board after board, until she finally uncovered a scaly black hide. One more bent piece of metal was thrown to the water, and a ruby eye peered back at her, half open.

“Talon!” Ash whispered, almost sobbing. “Thank the stars, I… fuck…”

Half of Talon’s face was normal, apart from the occasional scratch, one eye barely open. But the rest of his face was a mangled wound, a great gash torn from his skull—and his other eye with it. He gasped, now free from the rubble lying on his throat, and he managed a broken smile.

“Didn’t think… anyone was coming…” he choked, his breathing ragged. “Would’ve been dangerous.”

“You think?” Ash replied, unable to suppress a lick of sarcasm in her tone. “C’mon, we need to move.”

“Can’t.” Talon gasped. “Wing… snapped when I hit the deck… you’re not safe here.”

“I’m not leaving you here!” Ash hissed. “I’ll carry you if I have too, but you need to help me!”

Talon paused for a moment, his chest rising and falling irregularly; Ash feared several of his ribs were broken. But slowly, his remaining pupil narrowed, and the Night Fury began to rise shakily. He whined in pain, teeth clenched in agony as the remaining rubble fell from his body. One wing was curled to his body as the other was pulled out, flattened and broken in several places. Talon was free, but now the ship would sink in a manner of seconds, destabilized by his movement. 

“We need to go, c’mon!” Ash whispered, nodding towards the caves. “I can help you—” 

Her words were cut short by an arrow whizzing past—mere inches from her head— pinning itself in the sinking rubble. Ash reared upward, covering herself with her wings as humans on a nearby ship turned from the skies to behold her attempted rescue. 

But before they could let loose another arrow, a plasma blast obliterated the railing in front of them. Wind rushed around Ash as Amber swiftly came to a stop above Talon, grabbing his back with her front and hind legs tightly.

“I’ll lift, you fly under him—go!”

She flapped her wings hard, lifting him upwards as Ash rose to push him into the air; Talon screamed in anguish, but remained still as the two dragonesses strained to carry him to the caves. But his roars were enough to draw the attention of the adjacent boats. Arrows struck the water as Ash and Amber raced for the caves, barely able to stay in the air as they fluttered. The two made it to a small crevice in the rock, large enough to set Talon down on, but not deep enough to conceal themselves from the human arrows. But exhaustion gave way as Ash and Amber collapsed in a pile on the rock, barely managing not to injure Talon any further. Gasping for breath, Ash tried to muster her strength; the closest ship was yards away, the human soldiers already spinning a ballista in their direction.

Ash began to build fire in her throat, unwilling to give up, but it wasn’t necessary. Nightshade descended from the sky like a thunderbolt, the mast splintering under his weight as he crushed several sailors beneath him. Sending the ballista flying with a swipe of his tail, his golden eyes lingered on the trio below for a split second. 

Nightshade’s eyes widened, Ash froze… and he winked, before extending his wings which stretched further than the length of the ship. And then he was gone.

Ash fell back against the rock, the weight of the day’s troubles washing over her as she listened to Talon wheeze. His injuries were beyond serious.

“I think… maybe I should’ve… let my father lead the army…” Talon choked, a trail of blood running down his jaw.

“Maybe next time think of that first.” Amber quipped, giving Talon an interesting look. “I’m sure the scar will look handsome, though.”

Talon couldn’t help but turn his head, surprised. “Think I’ll… live long enough to have a scar?”

“You’d better. I didn’t just carry you for nothing.” Amber huffed, but her tone was soft.

Talon laid his head on the rock. “Try not to… disappoint you.” he sputtered, earning a giggle.

Ash closed her eyes, in disbelief at their banter as the sounds of battle raged around them. The day, and all its horrors, was far from over. But the nearest ships were all in ruins, so for now they could rest. It was already noon. The sun was already beginning to sink; winter days were short, thank the stars. Then they could move Talon… Ash prayed he could hold on for that long.

Back on the Endeavor…

Ragnar fired arrow after arrow, his rage building as each one failed to injure the three Night Furies sending his fleet into chaos. The demonic red-eyed fury was too busy throwing men around like rag-dolls to remain still long enough for a clear shot, while the airborne one continued to dodge nets and arrows as though guarded by some spirit of the wind. The lord of Velesheim had forgotten all about the horde waiting above, fully occupied by the fury around him as he threw the bow aside, running towards another ballista. He aimed another harpoon towards the heart of the fleet, where the golden-eyed Night Fury hovered like a herald of death. If he could just bring down that demon…

The ballista rang out as the harpoon shot away from the deck, sailing like a bird over a field of burning ships. Ragnar had hoped to skewer the Night Fury in the eye, but to his rage, it struck the beast square in the back of the head. The harpoon shattered against its scales like all the others, and the dragon turned its head, roaring. Ragnar let out a roar of his own, his hand slamming against the ballista in fury as he backed away. He headed for the bow of the Endeavor to retrieve his glaive, his thoughts a whirlwind. They had no power against whatever sorcery gave strength to these beasts, and every minute they wasted trying to fight these three monstrosities made escape impossible. Ragnar resolved then and there to retreat; to hell with the other lords, and with vengeance. They would all die here if he did nothing.

A swift rush of wind sounded behind him, and Ragnar sighed. Fingers wrapping around the handle of his glaive, the lord of Velesheim turned. The golden eyed demon was there, a great crow perched on the stern of Endeavor… smiling at him.

“Here I am, demon!” Ragnar bellowed, raising both arms in reckless abandon. “Come and finish me off—I will play no more of your games!”

The Night Fury cocked its head in amusement.

“It’s always more fun when the mice realize they’re trapped in a maze…” the demon spoke.

Every soldier on board felt the blood freeze in his veins. Ragnar heard the Night Fury chuckle, then marvelled as its body suddenly became enveloped in black smoke as though turning to dust. When the wind had cleared it away, the beast was gone. 

A tall, handsome man stood in its place, leaning on the railing. A long coat of black scaly hide covered him, with matching boots and a dark wool shirt; one hand held his chin as he smiled lazily, his elbow resting on the railing. The other wrapped around the handle of a large greatsword of shining beauty, its blade gleaming like molten silver in the flame. But his eyes were the same, golden and withering.

“Is this better?” He chuckled. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to make things more fair. You need all the help you can get… lord Ragnar.”

Ragnar’s grip on the glaive tightened, but he didn’t move. “What kind of monster are you?”

“The kind that remains in solitude for a reason, until humans go poking where they don’t belong.” 

The creature began to walk towards the stairs, the tip of the greatsword dragging on the deck behind him. Dozens of soldiers waited on the deck with bated breath, all prepared to fight to the death, but none prepared to be the first in line. Out of the corner of his eye, Ragnar saw a wooden trapdoor open, the one that led from his quarters to the wheel deck in case of great need. He saw a sword quietly set on the deck, then a bloodied hand grabbed the edge as Halfdan hoisted himself up; his face was ashen, the stump on his arm wrapped in soaked cloth, but his expression was determined. 

Ragnar’s eyes flickered back to the golden-eyed shapeshifter, suspiciously unaware of the first officer creeping up behind him. Halfdan pulled a small vial of liquid from his belt and poured the contents into his mouth, letting them gather there as he set the vial down in silence.

The dragon wearing human skin—still unawares—stood at the top of the stairs, dragging the greatsword out in front of him.

“I did tell you to turn back.” he said, pointing the long blade towards Ragnar. “You should’ve taken my advice.”

Ragnar held the glaive out in front of him, his heart resigned. “And you talk too much.”

Halfdan swung his sword with precision, only for the non-human to pull his weapon back to block it without a look in his direction. He had known the first officer was there the whole time, now smiling with feral glee as he turned and grabbed Halfdan’s remaining arm. 

Ragnar’s heart seized as he began to run, too late to save his friend, but able to avenge him. 

Halfdan grimaced as his wrist snapped, but smiled directly into the golden eyes—and then spat hard, a spray of blue oleander hitting the demon square in the face.

The poison struck Nightshade like a dagger to the brain. In a flash of white-hot agony, his sword dropped from his hand, clattering to the deck. Fire raced through his skull, every nerve alight, every instinct flaring. He staggered back, vision swimming. The deck tilted. Shapes stretched and smeared.

The smells of battle melted into something older, something fouler. The deck beneath his feet was no longer planks and pitch, but dry earth soaked in blood. The sky boiled above him, now flaming red and thundering. And the men… the men…

They were no longer men.

A blackened corpse stood above him, two points of white light where the eyes should be — the Morian couldn’t speak, but Nightshade heard its voice. 

“Traitor.”

“Monster.”

“You should have burned with the rest of them.”

Nightshade screamed, a sound not meant for mortal throats. His body twisted, his hands curled over his ears in a vain attempt to block out the horror. Antaris wasn’t here, he couldn’t help him, couldn’t shield him from his agony. He never felt his hands grab Halfdan by the shoulders, his teeth sinking into his neck, nor heard his body hit the deck.

Grabbing the greatsword, he jumped down the stairs into the nearest soldier like a feral beast—no, not soldier, not man, not human. Something broke. Bone, maybe. Screams rang out, but they weren’t from this world.

He tore through the next one like paper. Sword, spear, flesh—none of it mattered. He saw only Morian, carrion with weapons running at him. The ghosts swarmed him now, not with steel, but with laughter. Whispering in his ears.

“You think you're better than us?”

“You killed us all.”

“You were supposed to protect us!.”

“How many more, Nightshade? How many will you kill before you admit how alike we really are?”

Runar’s voice echoed above all others; dark, perverted, dispassionate.

He howled and slashed at nothing. At the air. At memory. He felt something strike him in the shoulder—an arrow, maybe a spear—but it was all the same. Pain was just another whisper.

The deck was slick beneath him now, and red, broken bodies littering it like discarded puppets. A blade stabbed up beneath his ribs and he roared in answer, spinning, slamming one of them into the mast so hard the wood cracked. The wound was already closing, not that he noticed.

They were all Morian.

Every last one.

Until—

A sound broke through. Not a voice. A breath.

Shallow. Staggering.

Not mocking.

Just… labored breathing. Morian didn’t breathe.

He turned.

A man stood at the edge of the carnage. Not charging. Just standing.

Ragnar.

His face bloodied. His weapon lowered. Not in surrender—but in shock.

Nightshade blinked. Once. Twice.

The color began to bleed back into the world—slow, reluctant. Red faded to brown. The sky was blue again. The deck was wood. The men were men.

The bodies—

Gods.

Nightshade staggered back, stumbling over a corpse he couldn’t name. The tip of his blade scraped wood. His own breathing came in ragged gasps. His chest heaved. His vision swam. The wounds on his body were closing, but he could still feel them.

“Runar…?” he whispered, but no one answered.

Only Ragnar remained, staring at him like a man watching a god bleed.

And Nightshade remembered who he was — too late.

Words stuck in Ragnar’s throat. The shapeshifter, a moment ago a creature from hell, now looked like a man woken up from a nightmare.

“What are you?”

Nightshade didn’t look at him; his golden eyes were flickering around, searching for something that wasn’t there.

“He… poisoned me. One of yours.” he spoke to the air, as though piecing together a puzzle. 

Ragnar's voice shook. “His name was Halfdan.”

“I didn’t—” Nightshade’s voice cracked. “I didn’t want this.”

“You just killed 30 men.” Ragnar didn’t say it as judgement—just the truth, already hanging in the air. “You could kill us all. Just you.”

Nightshade looked up, his golden eyes bloodshot from the oleander. 

“I don’t want to.”

The two stood silent for a moment. Ragnar looked out across the fleet—still burning, but still fighting. And for what? He still had so many ships… and it didn’t matter. 

They never should have come here.

“If I call off my men…” Ragnar started, his words almost a wish. “... will you let them go?”

Nightshade drew a sharp breath. With every passing second, a piece of himself returned.

“I will. All of them.”

Though the two commanders had found agreement between them, theirs had not been the only conflict to have transpired. The moment Nightshade had screamed in agony, Angalon had heard it from nearby. 

The lord of Seregon had smiled—knowing full well what was about to happen—and abandoned the battle, his tattered wings carrying him up high above the devastation. Holly was still occupied with ships below, unaware of her mate’s anguished onslaught, allowing the lord of Seregon to make his move.

Toothless had remained on the clifftop, listening to the echoing sounds of conflict, but he waited for Nightshade’s command—not knowing that it would never come. Instead, he raised his head as Angalon flew above the swarm, all eyes turning towards the ruby-eyed Night Fury.

“Nightshade has broken their leader!” he roared, teeth and claws coated in blood. “Now is the time to strike—warriors of Seregon, with me!”

Toothless surged upright, disbelief twisting in his gut. “Are you crazy?” he roared, earning growls and snarls from some dragons behind him. “It’s still daylight! We’re supposed to wait until he gives the signal!”

Angalon looked upon Toothless with revulsion. “Hold your tongue, cripple. Do you not know an advantage when you see it? The humans scurry like ants below in fear, and you want to wait?!”

“I want to obey the king's command!” Toothless snarled back. “At least he has a thought in his head other than the taste of blood! You’ll get so many of your own dragons killed we’ll never recover!”

“Then stay and cower if you wish—I care little.” Angalon spat, turning to leave.

Toothless didn’t know what made him leap into the air, turning to block Angalon’s path. He looked down for a moment, the full devastation of the battle stretched beneath him, then back up towards the gigantic Night Fury eyeing him with hatred… and the hundreds of Night Furies behind him on the cliff, waiting to see what happened.

“I can’t let you do this.” Toothless spoke calmly, suppressing his nerves. 

He couldn’t let so many dragons fly off to die. Not like this.

Angalon’s eyes burned with fury. “You are no Alpha of mine. Move, or I will fly through you.”

The Alpha of Berk’s eyes stared back, filled with determination.

“No.”

Angalon roared like an enraged bear, a bolt of plasma flying from his mouth. Toothless instinctively used the momentum of his wings to cover himself, the blast knocking him back in the air. He steadied himself with a flap, just in time for the great Night Fury to crash into him in the air. Angalon clawed his chest viciously as Toothless locked onto the old dragon's neck, desperately trying to stay in the air as the larger dragon's wings beat around him. Angalon wrenched himself free before Toothless could lock his jaw, his entire paw fitting to compress Toothless’s neck. He choked, scratching out to free himself, but Angalon’s size and strength were overwhelming. Toothless found himself upside down as the ancient dragon gripped him tightly.

“You dare think to challenge me!” Angalon barked, his paws digging into Toothless’s body. “You let a human put a bandage on you, and you think it means we should treat them as equals!”

Toothless felt his prosthetic torn from his tail, its parts falling to the water below as Angalon turned them both with a great beat of his wings. The Alpha latched onto his leg, drawing blood, but it was no use—Angalon began picking up speed, the two of them heading straight for the cliff. Night Furies scrambled to get out of the way as the ancient beast descended downwards.

“You’re just a pet who loves his master too much!” Angalon roared, slamming Toothless into the ground. 

His head burst open in agony, struggling to breathe as ribs cracked under Angalon’s weight. The ruby-eyed dragon stood over him, claws unsheathed.

“They even named you like a dog and you wear it proudly!” 

Toothless fought to move, but he couldn’t. His vision was blurring.

“Let me put you out of your misery.” Angalon hissed, moving to bite his neck.

A blast of fire sent Angalon staggering back. Toothless strained his head to see Holly, who landed next to him protectively even as the surrounding Night Furies watched.

“I don’t care if I once called you friend.” She snarled, even as Seregon Night Furies surrounded her; though some were conflicted, others wide-eyed. “Touch him again, and I’ll kill you.”

Angalon began to shake, his rage now indescribable.

“TRAITOR!”

Toothless spat up blood, trying to speak, but he couldn’t. Still, the slaughter had been avoided,

He hoped Hiccup would understand… know how much he loved him...

“Stop!”

Ash’s voice rang out, labored and sobbing. Toothless looked to see her and Amber haphazardly land on the cliff. Talon was sandwiched between them, bleeding profusely, one of his eyes a mangled cut. Angalon turned, and for the first time, Toothless saw his exterior shatter at the sight of his son.

He saw Talon limp forward, barely standing, coming to rest between Toothless and his father.

Then darkness swallowed him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22: Aftermath

The world came back in slow, flickering fragments.

Toothless stirred in darkness, not a sound apart from the faint rushing of wind. For a moment, he thought he was still falling—crashing toward the cliffside with Angalon’s claws tearing at him—but then he felt the cool stillness of the cave floor beneath him. His body ached, like it had been torn in half and stitched back together with fire.

“You’re awake.”

He turned his head, a movement so small it sent pain lancing down his neck. Ash sat beside him, her wing draped partly over his flank. Her scales looked dulled, singed in places. Dried blood crusted one side of her jaw. But her sapphire eyes—wild and fatigued—were shining.

“Ash,” he rasped, voice ragged. “Where am I?”

“Still on Seregon,” she whispered, brushing her snout against his. “I thought I lost you.”

Toothless tried to move, expecting searing pain, and stopped. His chest throbbed where Angalon’s claws had torn through, but there was no wound. He remembered the fall, the weight crushing him, the world fading. But now the pain was dulled, almost distant; more than that, he could breathe again. His chest was hot, but the bones were no longer broken, as if he’d never hit the ground at all.

“I… I should be dead,” he murmured.

Ash nodded, her gaze dropping. “You almost did, but I...”

She shifted, and he saw the emerald dragonstone clutched in her paw — shining brightly in the dark, pulsing like a beating heart.

“I used it,” Ash said. “While you were unconscious. I couldn’t do anything—couldn’t help you, and I couldn’t watch you die.” Her voice cracked. “So I called out to Kemenar, and he appeared.”

Toothless looked at her, really looked. The strain on her face, the exhaustion behind her eyes—it hadn’t just been battle that drained her. It had been this. 

“Ash…” he breathed.

“I’m not sorry,” she said fiercely. “I know how you feel about them, but I’d do it again.”

There were no words for the feeling that rose in his chest. Only warmth, and gratitude, and something deeper than either. He pressed his head against hers, eyes closing.

They stayed like that for a long time. The wind whispered softly outside the cave mouth, but within, there was only breath and heartbeat. Toothless could feel her shaking, just slightly, as if the last of the terror hadn’t left her body.

“We did it,” he whispered.

Ash nodded against him. “Barely.”

He opened his eyes again, slowly, scanning the shadows of the cave. “The battle…?”

“Over,” she murmured. “Talon is alive. Hurt, but healing. And you… you stopped Angalon.” A flicker of awe passed across her voice. “He almost killed you.”

He thought of that moment above the cliff. The rage in Angalon’s eyes. The fall. The blood. The silence.

“I didn’t think he’d do it,” Toothless said. “I just… couldn’t let him take them. I couldn’t let it end that way.”

Ash shifted closer, curling her neck against his.

“I know.”

Silence stretched again, but it was warm now. Peaceful. For the first time in what felt like days, they were not surrounded by fire, or shouts, or fear. Just one another.

He let out a slow breath. “I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”

“You did,” she said gently, curling her tail around his. “We found each other. We always will.”

Outside, the sky was turning pale with morning. But inside the cave, Toothless let his eyes close again—not in defeat, but in peace. But something still stirred in his mind.

“What happened to Angalon?”

Ash looked hesitant. “I… don’t know.” she admitted. “He went with Nightshade somewhere, and they haven’t returned.”

“And the humans?” 

Surprisingly, Ash smiled. “Nightshade’s letting them go. They surrendered—at least what’s left of them.”

“But I thought—”

“So did I, but Nightshade changed his mind.” Ash interrupted. “Something happened to him during the battle… he hasn’t smiled once. But he spoke with the fleet’s leader, and they’re heading home.”

Toothless leaned back again, a great weight suddenly lifted from his spirit. It really was over.

“So… what now?”

Ash nuzzled closer to him. “Anything you want.”

“Really?” Toothless’s eyes flashed. “Just resting here with you is enough… for now.”

The dragoness smiled, and the two were quiet, their hearts beating as one.

Elsewhere…

Talon limped through the shadows without hesitation—his steps erratic, but deliberate. His wounds were closed, the worst of the pain dulled by the emerald dragonstone, but he still moved gingerly. His eye was still gone. He hadn’t let the stone touch it.

Some scars were worth carrying. And the human captain had struck a fine blow, after all.

He found his father standing at the far end of his cave, the stars above flickering like fireflies. Angalon didn’t turn when Talon entered, but he knew he was there.

“You’ve returned.” His voice was low and curt, though not without a shred of warmth.

Talon stepped inside, his claws scraping against the rock. He didn’t wait for ceremony. His body still ached, but he stood tall, his eye burning with barely contained rage.

“You tried to kill them all,” he said. “For what?”

Angalon didn’t turn. He stood near the mouth of the cave, motionless, wings folded like an old statue. “I tried to destroy our enemy,” he said. “Others were too timid to do so.”

Talon’s tail lashed once behind him. “Our enemy? Are your own kin your enemy too?”

No answer.

“You called Holly a traitor!” Talon pressed. “One of your last living friends. Your queen!”

Still nothing.

Talon stepped closer, his voice now a roar. “Toothless is my friend, and you nearly destroyed him! Was it worth it?!”

At last, Angalon stirred. He turned—slowly—and Talon saw it: a great blistering eye, seared into his chest.

Talon froze.

“You let Nightshade mark you.”

“I accepted his punishment,” Angalon said evenly. “Would you rather I’d died?”

“I’d rather you chose something other than your pride for once,” Talon growled. “You taught me about strength, about honor, and where is it? Where is your honor, father?!”

The silence that followed was long and heavy.

Then Angalon looked him in the eye—only now, for the first time, truly seeing him. “You hate me for what I did,” he said.

Talon’s voice was quiet. “I hate that you believed it was the only way.”

Angalon exhaled. “It wasn’t hate that drove me, Talon. It was certainty. If we do not claim the world, it will claim us. It’s only a matter of time.”

“And now?”

“Now the world has changed regardless of my wishes.” He looked up toward the fading stars. “And I am marked as a traitor to my king.”

Talon’s jaw clenched. “So what happens next?”

“You lead,” Angalon said. “They’ll follow you.”

Talon narrowed his eyes. “And you?”

“I remain. For now. There’s no exile. No restitution.” He shrugged his wings. “Only time, and silence.”

Talon stared at him for a long moment. He didn’t forgive. But he understood, and his heart was heavy.

He turned toward the mouth of the cave. “Then let it end here.”

“Agreed,” Angalon said, his voice low. “It’s your age now.”

Talon hesitated.

“I still love you, father.”

He then left without another word.

Angalon stood alone, the brand on his chest smoldering quietly in the dark, his red eyes glowing like embers.

“I love you too,” he said to the darkness.

Back on the Endeavor…

They buried the dead in firewood and wreckage.

Only around 100 ships remained seaworthy—charred, waterlogged, patched together by sailors with burned hands and hollow eyes. The rest had been stripped of anything useful, and turned into pyres. The flames had long since died down, but the smell lingered across the water—ash and tar, salt and rot, smoke woven into the fabric of every sail.

Halfdan’s body had been laid atop the prow of the Vargr, the last to burn. They’d found his sword still clutched in one hand, his head still attached to his body. No one spoke when the fire took him. There were no songs. No speeches. Just silence, and the soft hush of waves beneath.

Lord Ragnar stood at the stern of the Endeavor, staring out to sea. The wind was cold again, clean, filling the sails as the cliffs of Seregon were vanishing behind them. He hadn’t spoken to his crew since the retreat began. There was nothing left to say. 

The dragons had spared them. That truth alone clung to him like damp wool, heavy and incomprehensible.

Something caught his eye, a growing shadow on the horizon. A Night Fury approached fast, but not threateningly so, as the dragon was evidently carrying something heavy. No ship attempted to raise the alarm upon seeing the great golden-eyed drake—evidently called Nightshade, he had found out—as he flew overhead, a cumbersome sack clasped in his claws. Ragnar heard the clang of heavy objects as Nightshade dumped his package on the deck, then a thud as the beast himself landed. The lord of Velesheim didn’t turn around as the sound of rising steam filled the air.

Nightshade’s footsteps were silent, but Ragnar felt the weight of him approaching the railing. He didn’t loom, didn’t threaten—just stood next to him, watching the sea.

“I didn’t come to break my promise, if that's what you're wondering,” Nightshade said.

Ragnar barked a dry laugh. “You made your point already. Burned our fleet, shattered our spears, scattered our men. What’s left to win?”

Silence again. Then: “Not all victories are about winning.”

Ragnar turned at that. Nightshade’s golden eyes were strange closer up—deep with memory, equal measure of wisdom and wrath. But also hollow, perhaps, or simply tired. He looked less like a monster and more like something sacred. Scarred. Changed.

“You could have killed us all,” Ragnar said quietly. “Halfdan thought you would.”

Nightshade's gaze didn’t flinch. “I almost did.”

That honesty struck Ragnar harder than fire ever had. He looked away.

“We were never going to conquer the Night Furies, were we?” he asked.

“No,” Nightshade said. “You were never meant to.”

Ragnar gripped the railing, knuckles white. “Then why let us go? Why let me live?”

“Because the story doesn’t end here,” Nightshade replied. “Not for your kind. And not for mine.”

The ship swayed gently beneath them, rising and falling with the tide. Below deck, the crew moved like ghosts, avoiding eye contact, speaking in hushed tones. Too many faces were missing. Too many names left unspoken.

“I buried Halfdan myself,” Ragnar said, after a long pause. “He deserved an honorable rest.”

Nightshade didn’t answer. He only nodded once—slow, deliberate. As if even that acknowledgment cost him something.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Ragnar murmured. “Avenging our city.”

“You were,” Nightshade said. “So was I.”

The shapeshifter stepped forward, placing one hand on the deck rail, eyes fixed on the waves.

“I fought to protect my people,” Nightshade continued. “But I’ve learned that mercy is sometimes the harder battle. I spared you not because I wanted to… but because someone believed it was worth trying.”

“Perhaps now you do believe it,” Ragnar said.

Nightshade didn’t deny it.

The two stood in silence again, two warriors. Both bloodied. Both survivors.

“I’ll return home disgraced,” Ragnar said eventually. “There’ll be whispers. Trials. Maybe worse.”

Nightshade turned to him one last time. “Then tell them the truth. Tell them what you saw. What we were. What we did.”

“And if they don’t believe me?”

“Then live your life anyway. In any case, my gift should help ease their rage.”

The lord turned, raising an eyebrow. “Why, what did you bring?”

“Six chests of priceless gems.” Nightshade uttered. “A pale restitution, but in the name of peace. As long as we both have the courage to make it.”

Ragnar turned away towards the horizon—where the island of Seregon slowly melted away.

When he looked back, Nightshade was already gone.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23: New Beginnings

Toothless remained in the Seregon cave for one more day, with Ash never leaving his side except to retrieve food and water. Although his injuries were healed, the magic of the dragonstone was as exhausting to his body as the wounds had been—though the Night Fury did not complain. The two dragons spent many hours discussing the comings and goings of the other Night Furies; Ash quickly heard of Angalon’s disfigurement, and of Talon’s promotion. 

Much to her surprise—and to himself, he found—Toothless confessed to feeling unhappy at the ancient dragon’s predicament. Despite all of Angalon’s faults, the Alpha still held a fragment of respect for the Night Fury — it wasn’t his fault that the hell he lived through left him blind to a brighter future, and a great warrior he remained. Though judging from his self-abdication, Toothless thought, perhaps there was hope for Angalon after all.

The next morning Toothless awoke to find Ash gone, though he no longer had any reason to be concerned for her safety with the dragonstone she now carried. Upon exiting the cave he immediately found himself amidst the blasted craters and canyons that carved their way throughout Seregon; a harsh and inhospitable island, indeed, lacking much fresh water or food. Toothless marveled at the stubbornness of the Night Furies that lived here—no wonder their outsides were as scarred as the rocks they lived on—though truthfully it reminded him of Berk’s Vikings in a way. People of all species will go to great lengths for their home, he supposed. 

Now the Alpha found himself sitting on the very cliffside he had been so unceremoniously rammed into days earlier, enjoying the morning sun sending waves of pink hues across the sky like a painter on canvas. Nightmare’s Eyrie was completely silent on the horizon, not a cloud in the air; Toothless had almost gotten used to its constant spewing of smoke, though the complete silence left him at peace with his thoughts for a while. Mystholm truly was an incredible place, still with secrets to uncover and places to explore, and Toothless felt abundantly warm despite the chilled winter air. Berk was still his home, but what was to say that home couldn’t be in more than one place.

Especially with one’s kin.

The unnatural sound of breaking glass caused the Night Fury’s ears to twitch as he turned his head around, but it didn’t give him cause for alarm. As the air a short distance away seemed to ripple in various reflections of light, Toothless expected Nightshade to walk through the magical rupture. Much to his surprise, a much smaller Night Fury stepped through; Ash stood tall and proud, her sapphire eyes sparkling in the morning rays. Toothless beheld the metal collar that was now gently fastened around her neck — a thin but solid piece of silver metal, adorned with miniature engravings of vines and leaves. The emerald dragonstone was fastened in the center, its presence enhancing Ash’s beauty. Toothless was astonished at such a simple, but eye-catching change, as though Ash was a different person. Maybe after all they had done, she was — for the better.

“You look beautiful,” he admitted. “I’m not a fan of collars myself, but it looks wonderful on you.”

“You like it?” Ash beamed, lifting her chin so he could see better. “Nightshade made it for me — I didn’t know he was such a craftsman, though I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“I’m a little surprised, though,” Toothless admitted, slightly puzzled. “I didn’t think a dragonstone would agree to something so… decorative.” Though I guess Nightshade carried Antaris in his pocket for 150 years…

Ash smiled warmly. “Well, Nightshade thought he would be helpful for me… since I’m coming back to Berk with you.”

Toothless paused, almost in shock.

“Wait, what? What about Aylan?”

Ash stepped closer, her tail curling around him. “All the dragonstones can teleport, you know,” she said sarcastically, but her eyes shone with happiness. “Kemenar does it less, but it's good enough for me to spend my days serving Aylan. But my nights… Those are for us, my love. Assuming Berk will accept me, of course.”

Toothless enveloped her in one wing, pulling her into his embrace as he nuzzled her neck. “That won’t be a problem at all. They’ll love you… almost as much as I do.” 

Ash curled into his chest, able to feel his heartbeat slow as she closed her eyes. “Possessive, are we?”

Toothless laughed, his nose brushing along her jaw. “Only when it comes to things I don’t want to lose.”

They lingered there for a moment, ignoring all else but the warmth of their embrace… until the sound of an ethereal wind interrupted their moment. Toothless opened his eyes to see Nightshade and Holly—the former’s large wing wrapped around the latter—materialized onto the rocks. Antaris hovered over the king’s head like a sentry, thin rings of light fading in and out of the air around it as it shined brightly.

“Oh, dear, looks like we came at a bad time…” Nightshade muttered, a grin pulling against his lips.

Holly smiled at the pair bashfully. “Maybe,” she replied. “But I’m sure they’ll have plenty of time alone together when they head for Berk.”

Toothless and Ash uncurled themselves, embarrassed, but the pair couldn’t help but shoot each other smiles out of the corner of their eyes.

“About that…” Toothless asked, holding up his fin-less tail. “I’m going to need some help, if Antaris is willing.”

“Ooh, right.” Nightshade sighed, looking up at the hovering gemstone. “I’m sure he won’t mind. Actually, he’s holding something that I’ve been meaning to give you!”

Antaris shined, and Toothless felt a soft weight drape over his chest. Looking down, he was surprised to find a handsome leather pouch around his neck, fastened by a silver buckle.

Nightshade beamed. “Hiccup’s journal is in there, as promised,” he admitted. “I’ve also included a letter explaining a few things… consider it an investment in Berk’s future.” 

Holly walked forward, nuzzling Ash affectionately. “Be safe, dear. And you…” She came to a stop in front of Toothless. “I hope that even after all that's transpired, we’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“Of course, my lady.” Toothless lowered his head respectfully. “And I’m grateful… you saved my life.”

Holly smiled. “And you saved many more. You both did.”

She stepped back, returning to Nightshade’s side. The golden-eyed Night Fury gave the pair a nod.

“Ready to go?”

Toothless turned, taking one last look at Mystholm — resolving to return soon. He felt Ash press against his side, and smiled.

“Ready.”

Antaris flashed, and the two young Night Furies were gone, as though swept away by the breeze.

“I’m going to miss them,” Holly sighed, the top of her head brushing against Nightshade’s chin. “They remind me of us when we were young… curious and stubborn.”

“We still are, just frightfully old.” Nightshade quipped, leaning into her touch. “Should we get back to our duties, see how things are going?”

“Mmmm…” Holly paused. “... no, I don’t think so. I’ve already made arrangements.”

Nightshade eyed her curiously. “Without telling your king? I’m hurt.”

Holly swatted him playfully with her tail. “I’m not about to let you become consumed by your newfound dominion. You’re mine for a few days. You need rest… and after that battle, some quiet.”

The large Night Fury closed his eyes, trying to evade the lingering memories from the clash on Endeavor in his mind, but his eyes snapped open at the sound of magic. He opened them to behold a beautiful human woman where a Night Fury had stood; a black dress with embroidered waves fell to her bare feet, a necklace of black stone fastened around her neck. Holly’s amber eyes glowed as she ran a hand through her hair, deep auburn and waist length.

“Shall we go? I want to show you how the world has changed while you’ve been away.” She offered, extending a hand. 

Assuming his own human form, Nightshade grinned, taking her hand and kissing it gently.

“I’d go anywhere with you, my dear.”

Another flash, and the pair were gone. Only Antaris remained, perceiving all around without eyes, the only sounds being the breeze and the steady crash of waves against the cliffs.

On Berk…

Hiccup sat cross-legged by the hearth, jabbing at the fire with a thin iron poker. Sparks danced up the chimney, but the warmth barely touched him. Outside, the winter’s first snow storm had arrived with a vengeance—thick flakes blowing in every direction, cloaking the village in white silence. Thunder split the sky as though struck by the hammer of Thor, occasionally making the house shake violently. Most of the tribe had already hunkered down, save for a few stubborn dragons and half-frozen sentries on the hills.

Astrid came up behind him, arms crossed tight around her shoulders. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring into the fire like it owes you an answer.”

Hiccup managed a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It might. If I wait long enough.”

Astrid’s expression softened. She came to sit beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t mind waiting with you.”

Neither of them spoke for a while. Only the storm did, moaning around the eaves, rattling the shutters. Then—without warning—came a sharp, echoing thud.

It wasn’t wind.

Hiccup stood up instantly.

Another thud. He was already halfway to the door. What on earth could that be in this weather?

Astrid rose too, startled. “Hiccup?”

He yanked open the door, the freezing wind biting his skin.

There, haloed in snow and ice and steam from his own breath, stood a Night Fury — battered, proud, and very, very familiar. His green eyes shone through the storm like emeralds.

“Toothless,” Hiccup whispered.

The Night Fury moved before the chief could say another word… and knocked him flat on his back, a sandpapery tongue dragging across his face. Hiccup couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief as he tried to cover himself from the assault.

“You’ve been gone for months and this is how you treat me?!” he sputtered, using Toothless’s head to drag himself up off the floor. But his entire demeanor had brightened, for the first time in several weeks. “What did I do to deserve this?”

The dragon chortled, pressing his snout into Hiccup’s chest. Hiccup’s arms wrapped tightly around the Night Fury, finding himself fighting back tears. Toothless was ok, and home again.

“I’ve missed you so much, bud.” he whispered.

“Hey boys, stop blocking the door.” Astrid called out, looking over both them towards the storm outside. “I think Toothless brought a guest.”

Hiccup looked up as Toothless slunk off to the side of the living room. The sapphire eyed Night Fury hesitantly walked through, shaking snow off of her wings. Hiccup eyed her with wonder, both at her presence with his dragon and with the shining necklace around her neck. He didn’t see Toothless’s eyes narrow in fear as he stared into the gem; light from the fireplace danced across it, almost as if it was faintly glowing, but that was all. He reached out his hand welcomingly, and the female pressed her snout against it.

“Remember me?” Hiccup asked warmly, scratching the dragon’s chin affectionately. A rumble of satisfaction rose from the female’s throat as she brushed her head against him, before she went to stand beside Toothless.

“Oh my Thor…” Astrid walked forward, hand outstretched in the same fashion as her husband. The female Night Fury was hesitant at first, but Toothless nudged her gently, and she greeted the unfamiliar human as well. “You’re gorgeous.”

Toothless beamed. Hiccup smiled as well, but that quickly turned to raised eyebrows as he took a better look at his dragon. His entire tail apparatus was gone—definitely a question for later, but easily replaceable. But Hiccup’s eyes were drawn to Toothless’s neck as he came up to his dragon, carefully unclasping the silver buckle that held the pouch in place.

“What’s this?” he asked, loosening the drawstrings as he looked at Toothless. “Is this for me?”

The dragon nodded. Hiccup sat down in his chair beside the fire, Astrid coming to stand over his shoulder as the two Night Furies made themselves comfortable on the stone slab across the room. His hand pulled out a slightly weathered, all too familiar journal.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for this!” Hiccup exclaimed, astonished. “How did you—”

Toothless snorted, gesturing his nose at the pouch as though telling him to move on. Hiccup set the journal aside, exploring the rest of the pouches contents. He pulled out a finely crafted silver necklace; the chain looped through a simple medallion in the shape of an eye, its iris overlaid with a thin layer of gold. Astrid took it from his hands to view it better in the light, allowing Hiccup to concentrate on the final item; a large scroll bound in leather. Unfurling it carefully, the chief of Berk began to read;

To Hiccup Haddock,

First, let me offer an apology.

I took your journal some time ago—without permission, and without expectation of return. Now it is back in the hands of its rightful owner, and I cannot express enough my admiration at its contents. Your talent for invention, and your devotion and care to the study of dragonkind, is admirable.

Though we’ve never spoken, I know you through the ones who have stood by you. Valka spoke of your strength, and your good heart. And Toothless, though he rarely confessed it, loves you more dearly as a brother than many related by blood. I have lived for several centuries, quite certain of the superiority of dragons and the inability of our two races to coexist peacefully. But you and Toothless have shown me another way, one I thought impossible.

I cannot rightly explain all that has transpired. Toothless left home partially to discover his people, but also to prevent our annihilation. The ensuing war ended with something I did not foresee: peace. It was not won through conquest. It was held together by the choices of two Night Furies who refused to give up. Toothless and Ash risked everything for each other, and I expect her to be well treated while she is with you.

There is one more truth I must share: the Night Furies are no longer hidden. Because of Toothless and Ash, we are united again—but word will quickly spread amongst the human world that Night Furies are not only not extinct, but extremely powerful. The world will change. I do not know what shape that change will take, but I do know this: it begins with the ones who are willing to be curious. And Berk is the perfect place for that to start. The necklace enclosed is more than ornament. It has been enchanted, and I’d encourage you to wear it. If the time ever comes when you have need, or if you simply want to speak, say my name to it clearly. I will hear you.

Give my regards to your mother, and congratulations on your wedding.

Yours,

Nightshade

King of the Night Furies

Hiccup read the final line again, slowly, before rolling the scroll closed.

For a long moment, he simply sat there, the letter heavy in his lap. The storm still howled outside, but it felt distant now—muffled by the warmth in his chest. Hiccup’s brain was spinning.

“That was…” Astrid began softly.

“I know,” he said, his voice quiet. He looked to the two dragons curled near the hearth — Toothless and Ash now resting together, shoulder to shoulder, their tails entwined. “He’s had quite the journey. They both have.”

Astrid gently set the necklace in his palm, its silvery eye catching the firelight. “Will you wear it?”

Hiccup nodded. “Whoever this Nightshade is thinks we have the potential to be great allies. It’d be foolish to let that go.”

Gently pulling the chain wide, Hiccup set the medallion around his neck.

Astrid came around to sit cross legged on the floor, resting her head against Hiccup’s leg. He smiled, absentmindedly tucking back a strand of her hair.

Toothless gave a sleepy chirp. Ash nestled deeper into his side, content. The fire glowed warmly.

Outside, the storm carried on—but inside the chief’s home, there was peace.

The End

Chapter Text

Chapter 24: The Artifact

The wind was howling, the forest rustling with fury as the first winter storm of the year quickly approached. The quickly darkening clouds above only deepened as smoke from Nightmare’s Eyrie poured into the air. The air was bitterly cold, but Nightshade felt none of it on his scales as he calmly strode through the trees. He had always loved these woods—the ancient trees, the glowing mushrooms, all covered in a light haze of smoke. It was almost surreal, and one of his fondest places in his youth. Though the rest of the world had changed, these woods never did, held stagnant by the ever smoking volcano. 

Coming to a stop in front of the obsidian monument, Nightshade brushed his tail across the unevenly carved letters. He still remembered the tools in his hands, his first attempts at learning to write with his newly discovered human body. Nightshade felt a pang of guilt, ever regretting his self-imposed exile, but he could not deny how happy he felt to finally be home again. He was raised on this island, nurtured in its woods; a few warm memories of his childhood briefly replaced the voices, if only for a moment.

I trust your vacation was enjoyable.

Nightshade jumped; his thoughts were now abundantly clear, despite the sudden interruption of an additional consciousness. He chuckled, turning his head. 

Antaris hovered nearby, his crystalline core pulsing with amber light.

“You could say that,” Nightshade smiled to himself. “Though I doubt you were waiting with bated breath for our return. You’ve never had any trouble keeping yourself busy.”

Even if I could breathe, that much is true.

“So what brings you here?” Nightshade questioned, giving the monument one final glance before continuing to walk, traversing the upward terrain of the forest. “Miss me?”

It is impossible to ‘miss’ someone whose mind is partially linked to my own… but the lack of sarcasm certainly made things less interesting.

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.” 

The Night Fury and the dragonstone made their way through the trees as the forest ended and the mountain began. Nightshade’s claws scratched against the rocks, while Antaris lazily drifted above.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” the dragon said dryly.

I felt it necessary to discuss a matter of great implication with you… and to ascertain your state of mind.

Nightshade’s smile faded. “I’m fine, Antaris.”

That was not an implication that I think you aren’t. However, I must admit that the incident with the blue oleander was disturbing, though not altogether unsurprising. A poison that could kill an ordinary Night Fury obviously would have unpredictable consequences on your body.

“Well I’m glad to see you’ve been giving it a lot of thought.” Nightshade couldn’t help but snarl. “If you cared so much you could’ve helped, you know.”

I do. And I knew that you needed to prove that you didn’t need me.

Nightshade huffed; the gem was right, as usual. He supposed after all that things had still worked out for the better. And Holly’s presence had helped tremendously.

The two entered the mountain, the howling air outside slowly toning down to a whisper. Antaris’s light flickered across the growing multitude of gems and minerals as they entered a cave — the same one in which Ash had met Holly many weeks ago. Nightshade’s eyes glanced around in faint awe at the display of lights, the riches of the mountain laid bare around him. But the obsidian dragonstone quickly caught his eye, its black surface exploding in waves of color from its place on the wall.

“Hello, Herentir.” Nightshade greeted. “I think Antaris is taking me further in, if you don’t mind.”

Herentir vanished in a flash of light; almost immediately following, the back wall began to fade as though a mirage, revealing a tunnel further into the Eyrie. Nightshade could immediately feel a small rush of heat from the new opening, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He resumed his path forward, Antaris eerily trailing behind.

As the mirage of wall materialized behind him, Nightshade’s eyes widened at the sight that lay before him. They stood in the very heart of the mountain — but where a normal volcano would be a gaping pit of magma, the Night Fury found himself standing on a great obsidian bridge. Smoke poured upwards towards the mouth of the Eyrie high above their heads; taking a moment to look over the side of the bridge, Nightshade glanced at the vast abyss of boiling magma a great distance below. Although it was significantly warm, they were high enough that the chances of being burnt were minimal. Impossible even, as the smoke flowed up around the obsidian as though blocked by some kind of enchantment, allowing Nightshade to clearly see the object at the bridge's end.

Connected to the obsidian was a great stone dais of identical material, framed by five obelisks surrounding the center. Runes of unfamiliar text covered the obelisks and the floor beneath, all in various stages of filth from rocky debris and ash. Each obelisk contained a circular divot at the top… all empty.

“I never thought I’d see this again…” Nightshade whispered to himself. “It still looks filthy. I still think it's lazy that the magic blocks the smoke, but not solid debris.”

I do not believe the original designers intended to abandon it, making such a spell unnecessary if it was meant for regular use.

“So that’s what you’ve been doing all these years.” Nightshade turned towards Antaris, his expression alight with both wonder and fear. “You’ve been ascertaining your origin.”

Antaris flashed brightly, the stone rising to hover in front of the closest obelisk.

You know full well that our time spent in the Wastes was not completely for my own reflection… your body and spirit required healing, and I was not willing to override your autonomy at the time. It allowed me to piece your mind back together, though the solitude was not entirely for the better. My foresight was not as clear then as it is now — though Holly has forgiven us nonetheless.

“Maybe you should’ve,” Nightshade said silently. “But it's too late to dwell on that, and I’ve made my amends. So…” he questioned, examining the runes. “... what are you?”

Even that question is not entirely answerable, but having given it thought, I believe I have ascertained our original purpose… Antaris’s thoughts were smooth and unbroken in Nightshade’s head. The five dragonstones were originally just that — stones, but of material able to store and direct vast amounts of magical energy. I believe we were meant to be conduits, simply essential pieces of this device. Never intended for sentient life.

“But I removed you.” Nightshade interrupted. “I remember all of you were clear white crystals at the time.”

Your exposure to us exposed us to consciousness, to life energy… something we were never expected to possess for our own. We weren’t living, only objects containing and conducting magic. But you changed that. 

“So if you all were just conduits, then why did you all become so different?” the Night Fury asked curiously.

Your original theory that the stones developed in conjunction with the Night Furies they were exposed to was partially correct. Each of us developed from learning from a Night Fury with their own distinct personality; I from you, Kemenar from Cinder, Herentir from Holly, Haronar from your father… and Nancarin from Runar.

Nightshade’s expression hardened. “I feared that as much as I believed it. What do you mean ‘partially’?”

Our development is also likely due to our individual positions on these obelisks. Antaris circled around the stones, reflecting amber light across their dark surfaces. These runes are spells designed to control and manipulate different aspects of existence, and upon our awakening we naturally specified in different areas.

Nightshade hummed to himself, continuing to examine the unreadable runes. “So are you gonna tell me what this was for, and who built it, or are you gonna keep leaving me hanging?”

Unfortunately, I am still unable to answer the latter. A wave of isolation abruptly struck Nightshade; in his heart, he knew the feelings were not his own, and the Night Fury suddenly felt a great swell of pity for the dragonstone.

As for the former, I believe this object—and us dragonstones—were meant to serve as a portal.

“To where?”

Anywhere.

Nightshade cocked his head. “Isn’t that what I have you for?” he joked. “If these mysterious builders wanted to travel around the world, couldn’t they just make a bunch of tiny you’s to teleport them around?”

You misunderstand me. This portal is not for across-world travel… It travels between worlds.

Nightshade’s reply died in his throat.

The great Night Fury suddenly felt very small amongst the obelisks. His mind raced, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of possibilities that now assaulted his imagination.

“Between?” he spoke in awe, allowing himself to drift into the center of the dais. “How many other worlds could there be? What are they like?”

That question is unanswerable. However, I believe us remaining stones have reached a sufficient age and level of understanding to be able to make the Artifact run again.

Nightshade’s thoughts ground to a halt.

“Run? Now wait a minute…” he stammered, his confidence slightly shaken by his own imagination. “That’s a lot of uncertainty. I mean, what if we screw it up?”

That is impossible, I have risen above such mistakes. Antaris’s tone was frightfully confident. However, your concerns are not without merit, if not misplaced. I am more concerned that if we do not attempt to master this device, others may attempt to do so and find us lacking.

Nightshade’s pupils narrowed, eyeing the amber gem sharply. “What others? What do you mean?”

I mean that even after years of contemplation and evolution of my powers… I am not above fear. I fear that our efforts in the Cataclysm were not completely ensuring of peace. I remain afraid of Nancarin — he and Haronar may have been shattered, but I have no way of knowing if they are truly dead. I cannot comprehend the death of my own being.

“Are you telling me there's a chance that Nancarin’s alive?” Nightshade began to shake, unable to control his growing anxiety. “Is Runar alive?”

I have suspicions, though I cannot prove them. I am simply asking you to consider and prepare for the possibility, especially with regards to this artifact. Such evil must never be allowed to gain access to other worlds, and part of combating that possibility is developing our own understanding of its workings. And—

The thoughts suddenly stopped coming, and Nightshade grew concerned.

“Well, what?” he shouted upwards. “And what?!”

I wanted to help you.

The dragonstone’s frankness stunned the Night Fury.

“Help?”

I know you have struggled in your efforts to comprehend your long lifespan, the pain of enduring the changing of the world around you. I know you’re afraid to lose Holly, though you will have many years together. I do not wish that for you… and I believe this device can help with that. Time likely flows differently in other worlds, which would allow you to live out years in those places and return to find a matter of days had passed here. I am trying to offer you a chance to fill your long years with adventure in places of mystery and wonder, while ensuring that your life here in Mystholm ages in tandem with your mate and your people — though I cannot be sure until we try it.

Nightshade sat in silence for a moment. A great swell of opportunity was now open to him, such that he had not dared to wish for in a number of years. It was frightening, risky, unpredictable… enticing.

“Why me?” Nightshade asked quietly. 

You gave me life.

Nightshade drew in a sharp breath. That truth settled deeper than he thought possible; he looked up at the dragonstone, unable to deny the deep bond they shared. Antaris, for all his power and knowledge, was still something fragile at heart—something created, not born. A spark made conscious by accident… or by fate.

“Alright.” Nightshade stated. “We’ll try it, but not until you three are certain you're all able to decipher the spells on this thing.”

That is wise. I will begin working… What are you doing?

Nightshade had instantly turned into a human in a flash, immediately getting on his hands and knees. 

“Getting to work!” He shouted upwards, his hands scooping piles of debris and ash and throwing them into the distant flame. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to explore the unknown on a filthy portal! But we get one hour for today, then we return to the real world outside. Agreed?”

Agreed.

Nightshade scurried about—suddenly energized with passion. The world around him felt untethered, like a book he didn’t know was still being written. His thoughts unraveled, drawing up designs for tables, tools, and forge materials; the bridge had plenty of space for conducting research, and it gave him plenty of opportunity to work with his hands again. The king of the Night Furies found himself laughing, youthful and happy, his voice echoing in the mountain. There was still so much to do and see. 

And for the first time in ages, the unknown felt like home.