Thank you for your wonderful comments. :) I appreciate the support despite my long absence. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!
The Death Line by SilverstarEbonyskies
Ch. 8: Sunset
Fang prowled around the village, on the look out for Adder. The Chief Commander had been unbelievably elusive as of late. It was, Fang knew, understandable considering the circumstances. They had sustained heavy losses from the raid last night, and Adder was probably trying to organize the crew who would go down at night and bring the dead back up for a proper burial. It wasn't, however, any less annoying.
The scale Fang held bothered him in a way he couldn't explain. It was unarguably foreign, strange, but still disturbingly familiar. He would get no peace until he talked to Adder about it, he was sure. It felt important.
So he combed through, searching, waiting, and making sure to avoid being seen by his father. It wouldn't be far-fetched to say that his father was at the end of his rope in regards to Fang. Even setting aside Fang's natural tendency to flagrantly disregard the rules in favor of his own reasoning, which Fang knew drove his father to exasperation, his father nursed a growing concern over Fang himself. About what, Fang couldn't guess. So what if he was trying hard to prove himself? Was that not expected of every Viking's child? To earn his place?
Unless...no, it was impossible. His father couldn't possibly know about that Berkian boy. Hiccup, he was apparently called. The thought made him nervous, jittery. But no, he reminded himself, in both situations he'd met the boy, his father couldn't have been anywhere near. Besides, he would never have cause to met him again. There was no cause for alarm. He was not associating with the enemy.
Yes, he had cut what little ties there had been with the boy; he had no debts to repay. As soon as he gave the scale to Adder, everything to return to normalcy. His days would return to being a blur of training, eating, training, and battling. Everything would be right again. Thinking about this promised future, Fang felt something akin to dread and couldn't figure out why.
It was almost sundown when Fang finally caught sight of Adder, who was listening stoically to the complaints of some villagers. Fang stood off to the side and waited, perhaps less than patiently, for their one-sided conversation to end.
After Adder judged they'd ranted quite enough, she cut them off: "I'll keep your comments in mind, but there isn't anything I can do. I could let any one of you onto the night crew, but I doubt you'd be any more likely to recover the missing bodies than those already assigned."
Her cool response successfully dispersed them, but grumblings still persisted here and there. Missing corpses... Were they oversights made in the dark? Or was there someone, or something, taking them? The thought was chilling. The villagers, though projecting anger, were clearly scared.
Fang only half-listened to these whispered theories as he, finally, walked up to Adder. She was dressed in her typical garb of muted yellows, many shades darker than her spiky blonde hair, and as she crossed her arms, her piercing blue eyes took in his approach. Normally, Fang didn't like conversing with Adder. While he respected her greatly, she was even less of a conversationalist than he was. She had a reputation for being frigid and, when pushed past her liking, she could have a fiery temper. In short, she was a particularly difficult person to deal with, and Fang wasn't good at dealing with people. But Fang was determined. This was an issue that had to be brought up. He was sure of it.
"It looks like you have something to say," Adder said. She waited for him to respond, but he stayed silent. "Well?" She prompted.
Now that he was about to speak, he felt suddenly hesitant. But no, this was the right thing to do. "I found something in the river yesterday."
"Oh?" She said raising an eyebrow.
Fang decided words were useless with her, and so pulled out the scale in lieu of an explanation. The bright blue sparkle of it danced in her eyes and Fang swore that he saw surprise. Her face immediately hardened, and if she hadn't been serious before, she was deadly serious now.
"I think you need to follow me." She said, turning sharply on her heel and trudging up to her cabin.
Fang obediently trailed behind, wondering exactly what about the scale warranted such secrecy. The Chief Commander was tense, her steps clipped and pace brisk. Her reaction confirmed it then. This scale was definitely important. Perhaps more than he first realized.
Adder opened the door to the cabin and ushered Fang in, closing the door behind him. Fang couldn't help noticing how sparse the inside was. It was difficult to imagine someone actually living in there. There were no fires or candles burning, which in the sunset lighting, hinted at a deep darkness soon to come.
"So," she said plainly, "You found something."
"It's a scale," Fang replied, taking it out again and holding it out to her.
"Is it." She said, blankly.
"...yes." Fang responded, becoming annoyed, "Isn't it obvious?"
"It is larger than the size of a scale." She frowned, reaching for it. Fang pulled it back from her grasp.
"Yes, it is," Fang hissed, "That's the point. There's a creature large enough to shed scales of this size!"
"Really." Adder's expression was indecipherable, eyes fixed on it.
"Do you have any other explanation?" Fang burst, exasperated, "It's the perfect shape; what else could it be?"
"I'm not obligated to theorize with you."
"I know there's something going on! You can't make me believe otherwise, no matter how dense you act!" Fang was at the end of his patience. He was not one for dancing around a subject.
Adder's gaze turned sharp. "I am fully aware of what that object is and where it's from. It's not, however, your privilege to know."
"Does anyone else know?" Fang demanded, taking a step forward.
"..."
"You're keeping it from us!" He accused, suspicion growing, "This could threaten our lives! What gives you the right?"
"I am Chief Commander," She said icily, "That gives me the right." She opened the door. "Now get out."
"No." Fang spat, fists clenched tone venomous, "Not until you tell me what this came from."
"Do not question me!" She roared, face transformed to fury, "You forget your place! Crawl back to your father and leave me in peace."
A second passed in stony silence before Fang, defeated, left the cabin. He clutched the scale in his right hand and saw the sun disappear into the horizon. He saw the darkness move in, and for once, it didn't feel comforting to him. In those few, short minutes in that cabin, the world changed.
Fang felt powerless, disappointed, alone.
Hiccup crept down the stairs at a glacial pace. Step, pause, wait, step, pause, wait. He'd never tried to sneak out of the house before, and he knew the stairs could make horrible creaks. He might have been being overly cautious. His father was a deep, deep sleeper. Hiccup's heart, however, was pounding with nervousness, and he didn't feel like risking it.
Finally, he made it down, and he tiptoed delicately to the heavy door. His father's heavy snores assured him that he hadn't been discovered, so he gently eased the door open, wincing as it groaned. The snores continued, and Hiccup exhaled a sigh of relief. He slipped out into the night and down into the forest.
Hiccup didn't have a habit of wandering about outside the village after the sun fell. He usually took to his room, lit a candle, and drew designs and schematics until he fell asleep. So being out there in the dark, with not a soul in sight, was an unnerving experience. The night before, he had seen familiar people, had been so full to the brim with his dreams of glory, that he didn't notice the way the forest felt at night. Foreboding, closed off, secretive, eery.
The moon hung above, waning, but still full enough to shed its silvery light through the branches. Slowly, Hiccup's eyes adjusted to the gloom as he trampled through the brush. He needed to see something. He'd promised his father he wouldn't go back, but...he couldn't. He had questions; he needed to know the answers. He wasn't the type of person to stunt his own curiosity. He was the type to encourage it, which, looking back, probably caused more harm than good. But Hiccup couldn't help it. It was in his nature.
He was going to Toothless' village. Nothing would dissuade him.
