I DO NOT OWN HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON OR IT'S CHARACTERS.
So, while I was writing "The Stone Crumbles" I created a little mini-story inside of it. This story makes reference to that. I have always been fascinated with Eret's character. I thought he was quite funny, and honestly, I thought he hid his past behind his goofy-ness. So, here it goes! This is a one-shot!
In the middle of the night, Eret stumbled his way towards the top of the highest peak on the island. His shoulder raged in pain as he walked his way towards his destination, a little house out of the way of the village. He didn't have far to go now.
He'd been feeling dizzy and light-headed even before he arrived on the island that evening. He had hidden his boat on the far side of the island, making sure someone would have to go out of their way to find it. The hike through the woods was tough on his body, and he was already weak. He said a silent prayer as he walked up the hill towards the home of the healer. He knew Gretchen would be able to help him better than anyone "back home."
He stumbled on the steps and hit the door hard. Knowing he needed to compose himself, he pushed himself to his feet, but found himself leaning against the threshold of the doorway. At this point, he knew this was the only way he was going to be able to stay on his feet. He reached his right arm up to knock.
...
Knock-knock-knock.
Gretchen was already sitting at her table watching the door. In her hand she held her iron pan. She assumed an intruder would have been much more quiet about his entrance to her doorway than this one was. She took in a deep breath, pulled her braided pony-tail back and wrapped it into a bun, and slowly approached the door.
KNOCK-knock-knock.
She held the handle of her pan tightly, and reached for the latch on the doorway. She held her breath, swallowed it.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK
Rolling her eyes, she slid the wooden latch over, and as soon as she did, the door flew open, and on the ground in front of her she saw Eret.
"What are you doing here?" she asked him after she was over her initial shock.
He winced when she tried to help him up. She shielded herself with her arms when she saw a fist come out of the corner of her eye, but it did not make contact. After a brief pause, she realized Eret had controlled himself. For him to want to take a swing at her was not in his character.
"Eret-let's get you to the table," she said to him gently. She helped him roll over, and using the end of the table, he reached his right arm to the corner to help himself up. He sat down heavily on the nearest chair. Within seconds of watching him, she noticed he was swaying.
"Eret-"
"Lock-Lock the door-" he breathed.
"It's the middle of the night," she said to him. "You are the only idiot that would trek all the way up here this time of night."
He chuckled, swaying a little again. "Calling my father an idiot now, are we?"
She rolled her eyes at him and sighed. He was referring to the time when Eret had broken out a high fever in the middle of the night when he was only a small child. His father practically banged the door down so Gretchen would see him right away. The man loved his family, that was for sure. She had only been practicing medicine for a short period of time when Eret was so small.
He winced in pain suddenly.
"What is it?" she asked him.
"My cloak-" he breathed. "Cut it off-I'll show you."
Gretchen was confused, why did he want her to cut the cloak? She reached for a knife and cut the cloak, following his orders. He winced as she did, and she watched his movements, watching for him to take a swing. She worked as quickly as she could. When she started unfolding it from his body, she saw through his shirt on the left side of his chest splotches of blood.
"Arrows-" she said more-so to herself than him, but he grabbed her hand as she went for the medicine cabinet. She saw him shaking his head, which in turn made him dizzy and more unbalanced. He groaned like an animal in severe pain. This was not like him. He usually hid his pain very well.
"Not arrows," he said to her and again he swayed, almost losing his balance completely on the chair. "I don't feel so good."
Without he asking her, she started cutting his shirt off at the shoulder. As she did so, she saw a poor bandage job that was wrapped around his torso. She could tell from the bandages they hadn't been changed.
"When did this happen?" she asked him.
"A week or so ago-"
"And your village healer couldn't take care of this?" she asked him. She was infuriated. "Eret, I swear-"
"There is no healer!" he yelled at her.
She looked at him with her mouth gaped. "You told me-"
"I lied," he said to her. "I didn't want you to worry about me."
Gretchen huffed and him, and set right to work on him. She started unwrapping the bandages, and eventually resorted into cutting them.
"Eret, who takes care of anyone when they get sick-or-or hurt, or-"
"We have to take care of ourselves," he said.
His tone hadn't changed at all. It was still angry. And it was making her angry. She slapped him upside the head and shuffled her feet around him to get the last of the bandages off. Immediately after slapping him upside the head, she felt guilty. She was conscious of the dampness on her hands from touching him. He was drenched in sweat, yet he shook horribly.
As she gently unwrapped the last of the bandages, she was surprised to see that his shoulder was in tact. There were no claw marks from the dragons, nor anything remotely relating to a fire burn.
"Eret, there isn't-" As she walked around him, however, she was horrified to see his chest was seeping. It wasn't an ordinary burn. She could tell a hot iron had inflicted the wound. She reached to touch it but he winced before she could. The fresh air was probably causing it to sting horribly. "What did this?"
"Drago," he said quietly. His eyes were fluttering. It was then Gretchen knew she needed to act before he passed out at the table.
She hurriedly went over to the small area she had under her stairs and cleaned up a cot. She threw a few blankets over it, and a pillow, and went back to him. Quickly helping him to his feet, she shuffled him over to the cot, forcing him to lay down. He winced when the slightest movement jarred the skin on his chest. He collapsed into the cot.
Gretchen knew he was probably going into shock and had over exerted his body. She rushed to gather up some herbs, and mixed them in some warm water. Back at his side, she saw he was fighting consciousness. Knowing his strength and needing to work without interruption she tilted the mug against his lips. "Drink this."
"What is it?" he asked her, gently pushing her hand away from his mouth.
"It'll help," she said gently. "C'mon, love, just drink it."
He looked up at her eyes, and reached for the mug of warm liquid, and she helped him tilt it back. He tried not to focus on the horrid taste, and swallowed four times before it was gone. Gretchen then chased it with a mug of warm water.
A few moments later, Eret's eyes closed, and he was asleep.
...
Eret opened his eyes and nearly jumped from his cot. He forced himself to ignore the pain surging through his shoulder. He had reached under his pillow for his dagger, but found it wasn't there. After a moment, he realized he wasn't at "home." This made him feel somewhat relieved, yet still on edge. He wasn't protected. Anyone could intend to hurt him and he had no other way than his bare hands to protect himself from them.
Taking in a few breaths, he calmed himself. He then realized he could hear the birds outside. Strange, hearing birds were so rare. He only heard birds when-he wasn't on the island. Reaching up, he felt the curtain and pulled it to the side. It was dark in the room, but a fire gave light and warmth.
"Take it easy there," said a soft voice. He realized it was Gretchen. She had been seated at the table. She made her way over to him, forcing him to stay seated in the cot. "How are you feeling?"
Eret looked at her, taking her in. Her hair was in a braid but it was a mess. He could tell she hadn't taken the time to put a comb through her hair or redo the braid. Bags lay under her eyes. He knew she had been up most of the night taking care of him.
"I'm sorry," he said to her gently.
She forced him to look at her again. She gaged his body temperature with the back of her hand. She took her time, and was gentle. He let out a breath, taking in her touch. This was not something he was used to anymore. How he missed it. He closed his eyes, remembering his mother's soft touch when he was a lad. He took in a deep breath, and tried to relax. He needed to calm down.
"You keep reacting this way, you are going to get yourself killed," Gretchen said to him gently. She reached toward the table, grabbed a mug and forced it into his right hand. "Drink up. You are dehydrated."
He took a few sips, but did not continue. He was trying to shake off the feeling he had. He felt himself nearly crumble at her kindness to him. He knew he needed to let it go. Knowing he needed to put his guard back up.
"Why is it when you come back home, Eret, I am the one mending your wounds?" she asked him.
He gave a weak smile to her. "Because you are the best healer I know."
"Apparently, I am the only healer you know," she said to him, crossing her arms as she stood over him. "Now, tell me why your village doesn't have a healer there-"
Eret looked away. He narrowed his eyes, and took a sip of water. He looked down at himself, realizing his left arm was in a sling. He knew it was so he didn't interfere with the healing process of his burn.
"Dad could have told you that there isn't a healer there," he said.
"Well, there should be-"
"No!" Eret said to her. He made himself calm down. He knew he needed to. "Why do you think Dad came home when he got hurt?"
"I assumed after he was injured the way he was, they would find someone." Gretchen sat back down again in her chair.
"How long was I asleep?" he asked her.
"Nearly a full day," she said to him.
"Wait-who knows I am here? No one can know-"
Gretchen put a hand up to him, trying again to calm him down. He was much more guarded than he used to be. More alert and tense. She only admitted it to herself, but he was making her very nervous. She was considering spiking his water with her sleeping draft again, but reconsidered it instantly.
"Only I know you are here," she said. "No one has come by today. You have my word."
Letting out a breath, he felt some relief. "No one can know I am here-"
Gretchen glared at him for a moment. "You are so secretive."
"It's better that way," Eret said to her. He took another sip of his mug.
"Eret-how did you get here?" Gretchen asked him.
"I hid my boat on the south end of the island-"
"No!" she said to him. "That's a treacherous walk during the day time. And you did this in the middle of the night!"
"No one can know I am here, Gretchen," Eret said. "Promise me-"
"You have my word, Eret," she said to him. He could tell from her tone that she was not happy with him. Always so worried and concerned about him whenever he did pop into her hut, needing herbs for his journey, her to match up an arrow wound. Something. Always something for him.
"Eret, tell me, when will you leave that life and come back home?" Gretchen asked.
This set him off again. He rose to his feet and walked to the dining room table. He felt himself begin to get dizzy, and he placed his hand on it's surface for some extra support. "We won't discuss this."
She growled at him, rising to her feet. "We need to. You always ignore me when I bring it up-"
"There's no leaving this, Gretchen!" Eret said. "Unless you want to die, there is no leaving this job. I have to think of my family-"
"I always THINK of YOUR family!" she yelled back at him. "Don't you realize this? I am always thinking of YOU and YOUR family!"
She leaned against a support beam, and put her hand to her face, and began to sob. Suddenly, he felt soft. He had hurt her. Going to her as she sobbed, he pulled his right arm around her and held her close to himself trying to comfort her, much like she had all the years she looked after the village. She was barely of age when his stubborn father carried him to her hut twenty years ago, nearly breaking the door down to make her see him. His fever had been raging. He had been vomiting. She had to shove herbs down his throat to break his fever. Not once did she leave his side. And his father, didn't leave either until his fever had broken that night. Ever since then, Gretchen and his family remained good friends. She wasn't just the village healer. She was like family.
Gretchen eventually pushed him away, although she still hiccupped her tears away. She looked at him, all teary eyed. He could tell she was exhausted, and she had not redone her braid as multiple hairs stuck out from the sides of it. She glared at him and turned away suddenly.
"Every-single-day-I pass your family. Nomi, your mother. They struggle without you here-"
Eret couldn't contain his anger, or his tone. "They would struggle with me here. At least this way they have food and fresh water delivered to their door-step-"
"They do, Eret. In the end, they want you home. They NEED you home. Your father becomes more dependent on them each day. Your mother can barely support him over her shoulder to help him get around. With you at home, at least you all would be together-"
"There is no turning back!" Eret said to Gretchen.
"At home you wouldn't be coming back here-expecting me to heal your wounds. Eret, I don't know what your father got himself into, and I do not know what you got dragged into. But I can clearly see, it's bad. You and your father coming home with bruises, holes in your bodies from arrows piercing your skin. I can tell you are shot at. You both have had burns-"
"Burns like this?" Eret asked her, cutting her off.
"No-that is new to me. Your father never came home with one of those."
Eret suddenly felt ashamed. His father had never come home with what was placed on his chest. It was the mark of being weak. It was the mark that showed your family that you couldn't do your job properly, and that you couldn't support them. When you worked, your men could see the mark. It was a burden. It was guilt. He had been so proud to follow in his father's footsteps. And now, he had shamed them for receiving the mark.
His father always provided for their family. Sadly, he was born on an island that was once rich with vegetation and wild life. By the time his sister was three, many people had died from starvation. Whole families were wiped away from the island failing to provide. Multiple families left. Eret's family somehow made it through many years of hardship. By the time they were ready to leave their home in hopes of finding an island that would provide them with all they needed, Eret's father had been recruited by Drago. His father decided to leave with Drago in hopes that he would not have to put his family through the struggles of the open water.
Sure enough, within a few weeks, fresh food had been delivered to his family. His father would often bring home fresh meat and vegetables. It was always just enough to help them get by and survive. While many families were struggling, they were thriving decently. Many times his father would bring home herbs that Gretchen needed to help the sick and weak. Often times, food had bene delivered to her doorstep to keep her going as well.
When his father was injured so badly, his mother refused to bring Gretchen over to help. Eret spent many nights listening to his mother cry over the stress and struggle. They had gone to bed hungry three nights in a row. Eret knew something bad was going to happen if his father couldn't heal. When the loud knock came at the door one night, Eret and Nomi rushed to their hiding spot while Drago and a few men came in and told him he needed to come back with them tonight.
"If you do not come back with us tonight, know that your family will fall within the month."
Watching his father struggle to walk killed Eret. His father was only going to provide for their family. Instead, Eret stepped out of hiding, asking Drago to take him instead of his father. Drago merely laughed at the sight of Eret. But, agreed. Within five minutes, Eret was whisked away from his family without a proper goodbye to them. He was dragged to a miserable island, more miserable than the one he had come from. It was dark, and he felt like his very soul was eaten alive. He learned to put his guard up and turn cold. He learned to sleep lightly, make sure a weapon was within reach at all times.
"Eret," Gretchen said to him. She had pulled him out of his thoughts.
He looked at her, seeing a few silent tears roll down her face.
"Your family needs you here," she said to him.
"If you knew where I came from-if you knew what I was up against-you would understand," Eret said to her. "This isn't something that I can walk away from."
"You are going to go back and allow them to do that to you again?" She pointed at his chest.
"No-this would be the last time," Eret said. "I am going to go back and work and provide for my family-"
"You are going to leave us here to worry about you again?" Gretchen said. Tears were in her eyes again. "Ever since you were a little boy, you wanted to nothing but be like your father. Your father is a special sort of man, Eret. You don't have to follow in his footsteps. If you do, you will end up in pain the rest of your life-"
"At least my family will have food on the table," Eret said. "If I die doing what I am doing to help them eat, that is what I must do."
Gretchen sat herself down on the chair and cried again. Eret was really surprised to see her so vulnerable. He leaned down to her level and said quietly, "I have to go back."
"And when you get hurt, what are you going to do?" Gretchen asked him. "Run here, again, in the middle of the night asking me to fix you up just so you can do that again to yourself?"
Eret nodded. "I have to take care of my family, Gretchen." He reached down and took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You know you are my family, too."
She rolled her eyes at him, wiping the dampness from her cheeks. "Eret, I obviously cannot stop you. But, would you pay your family a visit?"
"If I do, they'd be dead-"
She pushed him away from her and left her seat to make herself some tea. She worked in silence a moment, pouring water into the kettle and setting it up to heat. She grabbed a single mug for herself (Eret was surprised she hadn't grabbed two). She looked at him, and sighed. "The first time you came here after you went to the island, you sat in that cot. You had pneumonia. You cried in your sleep for your father. For three days, I fought your fever. Just like when you were five. When your fever broke, you made me promise to not tell your father you were here. Each time you came back, you made me promise. And promise again. Eret, I have carried that-weight-" Gretchen was in tears again. "I have carried that on my shoulder for years now. That weight kills me each time I see your family struggle. Your poor mother-"
"Mother knows this is the only way to keep us alive-"
"What if something horrible happens to you next time, Eret? What if, you can't get back here for me to heal you? What would happen to your family if you were to die?"
Eret looked at her with his mouth slightly ajar. He knew what would happen to them if he passed away fighting. "They would probably be killed."
"Your life is the only thing standing between them and their own deaths, then?" Gretchen said. She was pouring her tea for herself. "All of you are living empty lives, Eret. Is it worth it?"
Eret glared at her. His mouth formed a straight line doing his best to keep a straight face. "Yes."
...
A few hours after Gretchen went off to bed, before the sun rose, Eret crawled out of his cot, and gathered up a few herbs to take back with him. He knew he would need them to properly clean and continue healing his burn. He slipped out of Gretchen's home, and didn't look back. He reached his boat on the south end of the island easily. He knew the area better than most of the people on the island. Everyone feared it, but he managed to master his way around it for the most part.
After boarding the ship, he headed back to Dragon Island. He knew on his way back he needed to catch a few dragons. If he did not, Drago would brand him again, and if not, he would kill him.
Leaving the shores, he stopped wearing his feelings on his sleeve, and he headed North towards Dragon Island.
Little did he know, the next time he would come for a visit, the whole island would have been burned and destroyed.
No joke, I had this story more than halfway done when my internet crashed and I lost MOST of it. I tried to reconstruct it from memory, but I don't think this version was as good as the very first. It did help get what was on my mind out. Please let me know what you think. I may do another version of it at some point.