Content Warning: This story contains spoilers for HTTYD3, references to current geopolitical issues, and opinions thereof.
The Light Beneath The Waves
"Good morning, Kris," the synthetic voice announced, rousing the young man from a restless night. "It is currently zero-seven-hundred hours. You have one appointment today: 'The United Thing' at zero-nine-"
"Thanks Heimdall," Kris groaned, waving his hand through the holographic display above his bed, dismissing his digital assistant. "I wasn't sleeping anyway," he grumbled, rolling out of bed and staggering to the bathroom.
A quick shower later, Kris was in the kitchen, spreading soft cheese on a bread roll. Putting down his breakfast, he took a sip from the steaming mug of coffee beside him and looked across the room. His younger brother, Markus, was sat at the dining table with one of his schoolmates, both of them intent on their tablet computers.
"Doing your homework the morning before again?" Kris teased.
"Morning, Kris," Markus replied, ignoring his jibe.
His friend looked up. "Could you lend us a paw with this?"
"Hand," Markus corrected automatically.
Picking up his breakfast, Kris made his way to the table. "I don't have long, boys, but I can can have a look."
"It's this last question," Markus explained. "We can't figure out how to find the position of this particle."
Kris peered over his brother's shoulder at a line of text on his screen. He took a bite of his breakfast as he thought - the cheese was good; the new generation of synthetic stuff was almost indistinguishable from the real thing.
"That question is easy. You just need to pass to polar coordinates and integrate the wave function over all space."
"Oh! We didn't think of using polar coordinates! Thanks bro!"
"Yeah, thanks, Kris," Markus' friend added. His gaze snapped to a patch of empty air over Kris' shoulder. "I've got to go. I can write this up at break. Thanks again, Kris, see you later, Mark!"
Markus glanced up from his tablet. "Yeah, seeya, Kvöld."
With that, the other boy winked out of existence. Kris shook his head with an amused snort; the old guard found it distasteful, but it was increasingly common for the younger dragons to use humanoid telepresence avatars.
Kris stepped away from the table, rehearsing his speech in his head. His concentration was broken by a chime from his wrist-com.
Raising a hand to his earpiece, Kris accepted the call. "Yes, Ash?"
"I'm en route to pick you up now." His partner said in his ear. "ETA 5 minutes, assuming there's no traffic."
"Roger that, I'll wait for you outside." He ended the call. "Time for me to go, Markus. You'd better be going soon as well, if you don't want to be late."
"But I-"
"You'll find out everything that happened on the news vids tonight," Kris reassured him. "Now go get ready."
"Are you going to win? Are we going to show ourselves to the surfacers?"
"Remember: It's not about winning or losing; it's about what's best for all of Berk. But, to answer your question: It's going to be a close-run Thing, but the predictions say the isolationists have it by a narrow majority."
"Aww," Markus looked crestfallen.
"Chin up, brother." He ruffled Markus' hair. "Sixty years ago, isolation getting less than ninety percent of the vote would have been unheard of; change is coming, if not now, then in a few years, when your generation comes of age and can vote in the Thing.
"Okay?"
Markus nodded.
"Good. Now go get ready for school." Kris gave him a friendly shove as his brother snatched his tablet from the table and ran towards the stairs. Kris watched him go, swallowing the last of his roll, washing it down with a swig of coffee.
The door opened near-silently on maglev tracks - no audible hiss like in the surfacers' movies - and Kris stepped out into the bioluminescence-lit twilight of the Hidden World.
Great pillars of stone rose from the darkness below, supporting a cave of breathtaking size and beauty. Every square centimetre of stone was covered with a shimmering rainbow of glowing plants and fungi, the colours rippling in response to changing temperatures and air currents. Between the natural columns arced graceful, shining structures of steel and polymer.
Kris took a deep breath in. There was a slight, musky dampness that came from living in a cave, but the air of his home was some of the freshest he'd ever tasted - free of the pollutants that clogged the air of surface cities. This was partly thanks to their air filtration systems, but mostly it was due to the complete absence of fossil fuel emissions - most of their power came from geothermal boreholes sunk deep beneath the city, and for transport...
Well, they had dragons.
Kris watched as a Nadder - indigo light shining through her royal purple scales - back-winged and perched on the oversized railing bordering one of the raised walkways that criss-crossed the cave, startling a woman walking down the path. As soon as she recovered from her shock, the woman ran over to the dragon, greeting it with affectionate scratches. A few words were passed between them, and the nadder picked up the woman, placing her on it's back. The dragon paused as its rider buckled herself in place, then toppled over backwards.
They fell a dozen meters straight down - exhilarated shouts echoing up to Kris - before the Nadder's wings snapped open and resumed level flight. The pair's antics disturbed a flock of fireworms nesting in the latticework beneath the buildings, the little dragons forming a shimmering 'V' that trailed the Nadder for a short distance.
Kris' wrist-com chimed again, indicating a proximity connection. "On your 3 o'clock," Ash spoke in his ear. "Eyes up, rider."
Kris turned just as his partner flared her wings to land, causing the Dawn Fury's stark white wing-sails to catch the golden light from the Dragon Crystal, and shine brilliantly.
"Enjoying the view?" she asked.
"I'll never get tired of watching you fly, Ash."
"Not what I meant," she chuckled, claws clicking as she touched down. "But I appreciate the compliment."
His partner's tail and hind legs shared the same pale colouration as her wing-sails; the rest of her scales were midnight black, save for a pair of white 'socks' on her lower forelegs and the pointed tips of her ear-fins.
Centuries of interbreeding between the Night and Light Furies had produced a new hybrid species, officially known as Dawn Furies; however, the insignias on Ash's flight harness bore an older name for her species. The Berkian First Covert Reconnaissance Wing filled its dragon ranks exclusively with Furies, and so they were nicknamed the 'NightLights'.
Ash gave him an expectant look, her expression softening when he hesitated to mount up. "Are you okay, Kris?" she asked, pale blue-grey eyes wide with concern.
"I'm fine," he sighed, swinging himself onto her back. "Just nervous, I guess."
Ash looked back at him. "Rider secure?" Two lights on either side of her throat - her speech implants - pulsed in time with her words.
Kris double-checked his safety straps, then tapped her flank. "Ready to fly."
Ash tensed beneath him, then bounded forwards, leaping straight over the railing and into the air. She rose quickly to altitude, then banked to join the air traffic heading towards the Dragon Crystal.
His partner was unusually quiet as they flew. Eventually, Kris gave voice to his worries. "Are we doing the right thing, Ash?" he asked softly - his communicator carrying his voice to her ears over the wind. "We've been captains of the NightLights for - what? - three months? Should we be getting involved in the fight for intervention so soon?"
Ash hummed acknowledgement, but said nothing.
Kris sighed affectionately; she knew him too darn well. "What if it all goes wrong, Ash?" he continued. "What if we open ourselves to the world and they destroy us? What if I'm responsible for the end of our way of life?"
Ash turned sharply, leaving the air-lane for the Dragon Crystal.
"Hey! Where are you-"
"This," she interrupted. "Is what we're fighting for." Then she dove, until the buildings of downtown New Berk rose up all around them.
Heart still pounding from the sudden drop, Kris sat back as Ash leveled out. Across his partner's left wing, dragons and humans sat side-by-side in a balcony café, bathed in the neon glow of holographic newscreens, most which were reporting on the upcoming Thing. Ash turned a corner, overflying the grounds of the Hiccup Haddock III Institute of Technology, and Kris glimpsed a Gronckle schoolteacher shepherding a mixed group of dragon hatchlings and human children between the buildings.
All around them, on human bridges and draconic wing, people mammalian and reptilian carried each-other to greater heights.
"We never get to know the consequences of our actions before we take them," Ash began, "The things we've seen... isn't the chance that we could lead the surfacers out of the darkness into this-" she flicked her ear-fin, encompassing the shining city all around them "-worth any risk?"
Kris nodded; every member of the NightLights dealt with the disparity between the dejection and misery they saw on the surface, and the comfort and security of their home in their own way; for them, the answer was politics.
"If anyone tries to attack us, The surfacers have forgotten what happens if you throw stones at a dragon's nest; I'd be happy to remind them." She finished with a snarl.
"Unfortunately, they're not just throwing stones anymore," Kris muttered, as they left downtown behind and climbed up to rejoin the flow of dragons towards the Crystal. Even with Berk's technological advantage, the thought of dragons going up against a modern, mechanised army was not a pleasant one.
"We weren't made captains on a whim," Ash continued. "Captains Haddocksdóttir and Leifessi considered everyone in our wing older and more senior than us; but they chose us as their successors.
"Do you doubt their decision?"
"I-" Kris had nothing but respect for their former superiors. "...no."
"The right heading is rarely the one with the wind at your tail, Kris. Promise me you won't forget why we fight."
"I won't." He leant forwards to rest a hand on her neck. "Thanks, Ash."
She went silent as they approached the Dragon Crystal, concentrating on navigating the dense traffic surrounding the assembly-hall built atop the massive gemstone. The structure was built from pale peach stone, inlaid with conduits of translucent material that channelled the light from the crystal below, making the whole building glow.
One of the guards marshalling the air-traffic signaled them, directing Ash down to a clear landing area. As they descended, they passed by a runestone bearing the inscription "This stone was raised by Alpha Toothless, and Hiccup Haddock VI to commemorate the first United Thing of Dragon and Human-kind, in the Julian year 1488."
Even amongst the most long-lived dragons, the great Crystal had been a site of peaceful meeting and exchange since time immemorial. So, when the two species came together in a united Thing, the dragons opened their ancestral gathering-ground to both races.
Ash stalled her wings, coming to a stop mid-air and gently settling down in the center of the landing zone. Kris waited for her to fold her wings, then unclipped his safety straps and dismounted.
Before he could take a step, Ash swung her head in front of him. "Remember you're not alone; I'm with you every step of the way."
"Always, Ash," he murmured, resting a hand on her shoulder as he lead them inside. Within, the building was lit by a minimum of artificial light; more conduits carried light up through the floor and spread it into the halls.
The Corridor was lined with alcoves containing busts of figures from Berk's past. One side was devoted to human figures: Hiccup III, Chief Stoick 'The Vast', General Hofferson, and the other riders from Berk's ancestral clans. Opposite them, on the far side of the hall stood carved likenesses of their dragons
Kris paused on the threshold of the assembly chamber and looked back at the long lines of Berk's greatest. I hope you would approve of what I'm doing. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped forwards.
Tiered seating rose up all around the vast circular space; each level lined with human chairs and cushions large enough for anything short of a Leviathan-class dragon to rest comfortably. Kris took his place on the first tier, Ash settling down on a cushion beside him. One of the privileges of their position was a physical seat in the chamber; many of the speakers would be joining the proceedings via telepresence.
Kris let his eyes wander as the chamber filled - it looked like every one of the two-hundred-or-so seats would be occupied today. Above their heads, a roof protected them from moisture that filtered through the rocks above, but the central area was open to the cavern. Directly below the opening, the floor of the chamber was a thick sheet of glass, flooding the space with light from the Crystal below.
A resounding thud echoed silencing all conversation in the chamber. Kris sat forward as a woman strode onto the chamber-floor, bearing a ceremonial spear. She struck the floor with the spear's haft twice more and declared. "I call this Thing to order!" She waited until all eyes were focused on her, then continued. "Thank you all for answering the call to this assembly. Before we continue-" she turned to one of her aides "- are we clear to proceed?"
"We are, Lawspeaker," the aide answered. "Approximately nine hundred and sixty thousand eligible voters connected."
A murmur went through the chamber; that was close to the all-time record for turnout at a Thing.
"Very well, I declare this Thing open!" Her spear struck the ground once more. "The first motion of this session is brought on behalf of all humans and dragons of Berk. They motion that we end our isolation and resume contact with the outside world. To open debate on this motion, the Thing calls on Director Eriksdóttir of the Department of Surface Relations." The Lawspeaker bowed her head, and resumed her seat, while a woman Kris and Ash knew well took her place.
"Greetings, attendees of the Thing," the Director began. "I believe the correct way to vote on this motion is obvious, and my case can be summed up in four words:
"Xenophobia, nationalism and climate change."
The Director's gaze swept the audience. She pressed a button on her wrist-com, summoning a ring of holo-screens around the floor as she continued. "Attendees of the Thing, it has been my solemn duty to report to you, over the last years, a wave of xenophobic nationalism sweeping the political landscapes of the so-called 'developed' surfacer nations, lead by a new generation of populist demagogues." The screens showed a montage of election coverage from various countries.
"Sadly, this year I must report more of the same: Those populists who have gained power continue tearing up decades-old alliances to sate the fickle demands of their supporters, while their opposition hem and haw and bicker amongst themselves, and the mere presence of these people emboldens the worst elements of humanity."
The screens switched, showing a rising tide of discrimination and hate crime flooding the surfacer nations. This time, the news coverage was mixed with footage captured by Berkian agents, from both those embedded in surface society and from reconnaissance teams like the NightLights.
"Day by day, the world above us is becoming a more hostile and divided place." The Director went on, telling individual stories - of refugees fleeing the horror of wars started in the name of freedom and democracy, only to drown in freezing waters off the shores of nations that claimed to champion those ideals; and of the poor and destitute of those very same nations dying of hypothermia on uncaring streets.
"If you want to know how the surfacers would treat us; you need only look to how they treat their world." The screens changed a final time, showing various charts of climate data, both from surfacer research, and Berk's own scientists. "Almost unanimously, their scientists recognise the existential threat of climate change, but what do their leaders do? At best, they make half-hearted gestures and delay, handing off necessary actions to their successors. At worst, they go backwards! They abandon what little progress had been made in pursuit of their own short-sighted goals!"
The director took a breath, staring up at the audience as the screens disappeared.
"When the dragons first retreated here, to the Hidden World, Hiccup charged us with protecting their secret until the world was ready for the dragons to return. Attendees of the Thing, I ask you: if we relinquished our secret to the world I have described, could you sleep easy, confident you had performed your duty to the best of your ability?"
The Director turned and nodded to the Lawspeaker. "Thank you."
The Lawspeaker took to the floor again. "The Thing thanks Director Eriksdóttir for her contribution. Is there anyone who wishes to challenge her statements?"
Kris almost fell out of his seat when Ash nudged his shoulder with her muzzle. She blinked slowly, and gave an encouraging croon. Taking a deep breath, Kris stood. "I would."
"Please state your name and position for the Thing."
"Captain Kristian Jensen, of the First Covert Reconnaissance Wing."
"The Thing recognises your right to speak, Captain Jensen," she declared, ceding the floor to him.
"Attendees of the Thing," he began, "I ask you to think back, almost a century ago, when, on the floor of this very chamber, our predecessors described a world threatened by the rise of fascism; a threat that, had it not been defeated, would have made the world forever hostile to our people.
"What did our forebears do, when faced with this threat?
"They did nothing! They shook their heads in pity and decried the surfacers' hate, calling it proof the world wasn't ready for our return." Kris paced the floor of the chamber as he spoke.
"A few short decades later, the world above teetered on the brink of nuclear annihilation, and what did they do?"
"They hid! We cowered in our caves, telling ourselves 'now was not the time', safe in our assurances that should the worst happen, our walls and air filters would protect us!" Kris spun on his heel, retracing his route across the floor.
"Now, my distinguished superior comes before you with familiar tales; war, rising nationalism, and growing social divides, and invites you to make the same conclusions; to tell yourself that 'now is not the time'; to rationalise that the surfacers' disunity proves the world is unsafe for us."
Kris stopped, and turned to face the assembled humans and dragons.
"I say: No more!
"I say we stop cowering in our holes, trembling in fear at the thought of the world's problems! I say we ride out and face those problems head-on!" Kris raised his hands, encompassing the assembly chamber and all of New Berk in one gesture.
"Were we not Vikings once? Did we not cling to the shores of Old Berk for seven generations, despite the Red Queen's assaults? Hiccup himself said; 'Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have stubbornness issues.' Where is that Viking spirit now, that we balk at the first sign of difficulty? How many of you, if transported back to that time, would be on the first boat somewhere safer?"
Kris paused, letting his words sink in.
"Director Eriksdóttir mentioned our duty: to protect the dragons' secret 'until the world is ready for their return'. Her choice of words was key: 'until the world is ready', not 'until the world is safe'. Attendees of the Thing, I argue that the world is not only ready for our return, but it needs us to.
"We speak of 'surfacers' and 'Berkians' as if we were separate peoples but, for many of us, those we call 'surfacer' are our distant cousins, and all of us - human and dragon, above and below ground - are citizens of the world. The people above us are lost, and we know the path to a better life; is it not our duty, no, our moral imperative, to show them the way?
"If we do not, how are we different from those petty demagogues futilely building walls to keep out the other?"
His final words echoing through the chamber, Kris bowed his head to the Lawspeaker. "That is all."
"The Thing thanks Captain Jensen for his comments. Is there anyone else who wishes to speak?"
A dagon dropped through the open roof, landing on the floor of the chamber. "I do," he announced, to shocked gasps from the crowd. His voice was harsh and artificial, a far cry from the rich range of emotions produced by modern vocal implants. The Fury's scales were a smoky grey, not from Light Fury heritage; for he was a pure-blooded Night Fury; but from extreme age.
"O-of course, sir," the Lawspeaker stuttured, breaking from her shock. She took a deep breath, recovering some of her composure.
"The Thing recognises your right to speak, Alpha Toothless."
It felt like all of Berk held their breath waiting to hear what the ancient Night Fury had to say; for he had retreated from public life over a century ago, citing his advancing age.
"There is a saying amongst humans," Toothless began. "That wisdom often comes from the mouths of babes.
"Granted, all of you are hatchlings in my eyes - yes, even you, Steinn." A few nervous chuckles broke out at his reference to a particularly aged Gronckle that had sat on the Thing since before Kris' birth.
"But of the many voices that have been heard in this chamber, it is the youngest of you who speaks the wisest." Kris suddenly found a new appreciation for how Hiccup must have felt centuries ago, transfixed by the Night Fury's stare.
"If my Hiccup had any flaws, you could not say he was selfish." Even through the mechanical filter of his first-generation implants, Kris could hear the deep sadness in the Night Fury's voice. "He cared for others almost to a fault, if such a thing is possible.
"I won't dishonour his sacrifice by saying the decision to retreat to the Hidden World was a mistake..." Toothless took a long, shuddering breath. "The scourge of the Queen was too fresh in the world's memory; we needed to disappear for a time.
"In the long years I watched over Berk, I saw the pain that decision wrought on Hiccup; not just because of our friendship, but because, in those few, short years we had together, he saw - clearer than anybody else - the potential our species have when we work as one.
"Hiccup never intended for our exile to be permanent. I believe that, were he alive today, the man who saw an injured enemy, and risked everything to correct his mistake, would be unable to stop himself from helping those in need.
"I will be honest with you; my motivations are not entirely altruistic... The years have not been kind to me of late -" It was well known that after a millennium of life, all of Berk's medical science couldn't keep up with his body's deterioration "-and I would like to see my flock flying free through the skies of my home one last time before I die."
To somber silence from the chamber, Berk's ancient alpha mantled his wings and formally bowed his head. "Thank you, Lawspeaker."
With a beat of his grey-dappled wings, Toothless was gone.
Murmurs rose as seemingly the entire chamber turned to their neighbours and asked if they had truly witnessed what had just unfolded.
"Did you know that was going to happen?" Kris whispered.
Ash shook her head.
The Lawspeaker pounded her spear on the floor for attention. "The Thing thanks Alpha Toothless for his words." The fact they were likely his last words to the Thing went unsaid. "Is there anyone else who wishes to speak?"
The chamber was so quiet you could hear a Terror shedding.
"Very well, if there are no objections, we shall put the motion to a vote."
No-one objected.
"Then, vote yay to support the people's motion that we end our isolation and resume contact with the outside world, or vote nay to reject it, and maintain the status quo. The ballot will be open for thirty minutes starting... now."
Kris' wrist-com buzzed, displaying a panel with two buttons labeled "yay" and "nay". Please let me be making the right decision, he thought, raising his hand and pressing the button for 'yay'.
Beside him, a holographic display flashed in front of Ash as she cast her own vote.
"And now we wait and see if we've done enough," Kris said.
"Whatever happens, we have made a difference," Ash told him. "If we don't succeed today, the Alpha's speech will galvanise draconic support for intervention in the next Thing."
Kris nodded; though his title was now largely ceremonial, dragons of all kinds still held great respect for the ancient Night Fury.
What followed was the longest half hour of Kris' life; nothing to do but sit and stew in his anxiety, and watch the timer slowly count down.
Eventually, the last few agonizing seconds ticked past, and the clock reached zero. Kris saw the Lawspeaker converse with her aides, then she stood, striking the floor with her spear.
"The votes have been counted, and were cast as follows: five hundred and ten thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one for 'yay'; four hundred and forty-nine thousand, two hundred and eighty-three for 'nay'; the motion passes."
Shouts erupted across the chamber.
"We did it!" Ash crowed, darting in to swipe her tongue up the side of his face.
Kris chuckled at her exuberance, wiping her saliva from his eye. As he did, he caught the gaze of an older man on the far side of the chamber, shaking his head disapprovingly.
Kris pushed the man out of his thoughts as the Lawspeaker pounded her spear again.
Eventually, the chamber quieted enough for her to speak. "In light of this vote, The Thing shall take a recess to allow attendees to prepare motions on how to proceed; we shall resume in forty-eight hours. This session is adjourned!"
The crash of her spear against the floor echoed through the chamber.
Kris and Ash waited in the entrance passage to the assembly chamber, dressed in their full regalia as captains of the NightLights. The debate on how to make contact with the surface world had raged back and forth for three whole days, and finally, the Thing had come to an agreement.
Distantly, Kris heard the Lawspeaker announce "The Thing summons Captains Jensen and Ash of the First Covert Reconnaissance Wing," and a functionary ushered them into the chamber.
Director Eriksdóttir stood, bowed to the Lawspeaker, then turned to face them. "Captains Jensen and Ash, the directives I am about to give you have been agreed by process of this session, and, as such, carry the full mandate of the United Thing." The Director cleared her throat and raised a tablet computer.
"The Thing respects the successful motion of four days past, that we should end our policy of isolation and resume contact with the outside world. However, we also recognise the risk of a rash, hostile response were we to suddenly reveal ourselves to the world at large.
"Therefore, the Thing has agreed on a process of managed contact, and who better to lead the vanguard of our return than the ones who advocated it so passionately?
"Captains, the Thing charges you to venture out into the surface world, seek out those in direst need of our light; those forgotten or ignored by society; show them our way of life, and prepare them, so that they may be ambassadors when the time comes to cast aside our cloak of secrecy.
"Do you understand these directives, and swear to execute them to the best of your abilities?"
Kris bowed his head. "I do, Director."
Beside him, Ash dipped her muzzle. "And so do I."
The Director flashed a rare smile. "On behalf of the Thing, and the world above, I thank you, and wish you Gods' speed."
"No more, from a voice that breaks the awkward silence;
No more, never heard so loud before;
Made the same mistakes a thousand times;
Never meant to be like this, so I say,
No more tonight!"
Dragonforce, 'No More'
To be continued?
Author's Notes
If you made it this far: thank you for putting up with my thinly-veiled rant at the state of modern geopolitics.
I have, obviously, seen HTTYD3, the film looks beautiful, and John Powell did an excellent job with the soundtrack again, but I'm torn on what to think about the plot: On the one hand, It's good that they gave the series a proper ending, rather than running it into the ground with more sequels (at least, until the execs at Dreamworks get their hands on it), and I may be conflating my feelings for the characters with my opinion of the film.
However, as someone on Twitter pointed out to me, there are a couple of troublesome facets to the ending: Firstly, the dragons retreating to the Hidden World is somewhat defeatist to the series' message of combating discrimination with knowledge and understanding, and secondly, the problematic narrative that in order to have romance and children you need to abandon your best friends.
So, I guess you could consider this a kind of fix-fic, at least for the former issue.
I left this on 'To be continued?' because I do have ideas for sequels to this story: following an episodic structure, focusing on various characters from the surface (our) world as they are contacted by the NightLights and experience Berkian society. However, due to the nature of this story, and the sorts of characters I'd want to use I would be dealing with sensitive issues, and would have to do a considerable amount of research to ensure a respectful portrayal. So don't hold your breath.
Anyway, on a lighter note: regular readers will know that I have a tradition of giving out a recommendation of another story to read with every new post. As this story is somewhat of a departure from what I usually write, I have something a bit different for you this time: A crossover story only available on Archive of Our Own (AO3).
'Fortune Favours the Brave' by TamerLorika, is a crossover of HTTYD and Pacific Rim, like you, I thought it was an odd combination until I realised, as TamerLorika puts it "Drift technology was MADE for the dragons and riders". The story is a rather infrequently updated slow-burn character piece, but if you have the patience it is well worth your time. A particular highlight is an early chapter where TamerLorika uses a minor point of dragonese syntax both as an emotional moment between Hiccup and Toothless and as a way to establish their backstory.
I won't make any promises, but I think it's time I stopped mucking around with one-offs and actually knuckle down to work on the sequel to Shadow of the Night, with any luck, the next story you see from me will be the first chapter of Echoes of the Night.
Until then, as always, thank you for reading and please leave your thoughts in a review!
Superbun.