Hans woke up on a third bed in as many days. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes, then put his feet on the floor, still massaging his face. He had hardly slept, with his mind flitting between too many issues. The room was lit in a cold morning light, and serenaded by birdsong, as if that would lift his spirits.

Wait...not birdsong.

Slowly pushing the window open, Hans saw four small dragons outside, each the size of a cat, sitting on the fence and chirping to each other.

With a loud growl, he threw on his new brown cloak and left the bedroom, entering the sitting area. Governor Waltheson was in a chair, holding a cup in one hand. His son Peter was in his lap, reading a book aloud to his father.

"...and she could not stop from asking where the bear-like beast was. 'You see him here', said the Viking. 'I had been condemned to remain under that foul shape until one should love me. You were the only one in the world whose passion could find the goodness in me, and in giving you my crown I cannot fulfill the...'"

Here Peter paused, and his brow furrowed. He looked at his father and pointed in the book. The governor peered closer.

" 'Obligations.' Those are things you have to do."

"Ah." He resumed the story now. "'...discharge the obligations I have to you.' And so they lived the rest of their days together, in that isle east of the sun and west of the moon."

"Very good, Peter." Waltheson clapped his son on the back, prompting a proud grin from the boy. "You take some bread with you, and go play now."

As Peter followed these instructions, the governor finally turned his attention to Hans.

"And good morning to you!" He smiled and raised his drink. "The first of many pleasant ones, I hope. Could I interest you in some sheep milk?" He asked while pointing at his cup.

"No, no thank you." Hans smirked as Peter ran out the door, a chunk of a loaf in his hand. "So young, and already reading?"

A nod. "He makes me proud. I started early with him, and once we became part of Greater Berk, I had even more time to devote to reading. At first it was just a matter of passing on our tribe's history, but now…" He shook his head with pride. "...if he gets good enough, he could go and work on Berk itself, with the money-counters and the scribes."

"He wouldn't inherit your title?"

"Oh no, the emperor hand-picks the governors. But I don't want that for Peter anyways: to be stuck on this island his whole life, even as governor. Why should he be surrounded by sheep when he has the chance to use his head for a living! He deserves a better life than that, better than mine." Waltheson glanced at Hans. "I must tell you, being a lettered man yourself, you could probably find excellent work on Berk too. The pay is good, and the village is far more luxurious than ours."

Hans acknowledged this, but shook his head and sighed. "That may be so, but I don't see how I can work so close to the man - the boy, who attacked our ship. I'm sorry, but I want to stay as far away from Berk as possible. Did you find anyone here in Carlhorse who could use me?"

The governor stopped taking a drink to answer. "If you absolutely insist, they're looking for a new shepherd in one of the northern fields. There are not many alternatives around here, unfortunately. Talk to Mach later today, he'll be pleased to have you. In the meantime, you can continue to stay with me and my son until you have a place of your own."

"Oh, I appreciate your offer." Hans sat down in a chair nearby. "I will not be staying very long in your home, I promise."

"Already looking for a new hut?"

"Oh no, I'm planning to save up what I earn to commission a voyage back home."

Waltheson coughed as he heard this. "Surely, that must be a joke?"

"Absolutely not." He drew back. "I must return to Kranzgrad at once, it is imperative!"

"Look, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I know what you're going through. I don't. I was born and raised here. You, however, didn't even know our village existed a day ago, and now you're stuck here. I do realize that's very difficult. But you don't understand how difficult also it is to organize any kind of sea travel."

"How so?"

The governor sighed and set down his cup. "Well, all sea-going craft cannot leave port without permission from the emperor. It's a way to keep the seas safe and running smoothly, you see. All approved craft fly the Berkian crest atop their mast. Any that do not have that crest are considered invaders or otherwise illegal."

Hans nodded. "And those ships get blasted?"

A nod answered. "Without one of those flags, the dragons spot you, go back and raise the alarm. You won't get very far."

"Well, I have personal experience with that law. How do I obtain a flag, then?"

"As I said, explicit permission from Lord Haddock. And he doesn't just give them out, you have to detail where your route will be and what your purpose is. Getting a flag would take at least a week, probably two, and he will almost certainly reject your request anyways."

Hans fell silent for a moment. "Is there any way I can get someone to lend me one of their flags? Surely it would be impossible to tell the difference."

A scoff. "I told you, these flags don't get handed out freely; anyone who has one needs it, and will not be willing to part with it, especially since you won't be returning it. And it's not just getting a crest that you have to worry about. How far is Kranzgrad?"

"We were three weeks out when our ship was sunk."

"There we go. All of our ships are only made to travel ten days on the open sea, at most. Constructing a craft large enough to make the voyage would not only cost time and money - resources we don't have at the moment - but would also draw the emperor's attention, which we don't need." He settled back in his seat, and picked up his drink again. "What I recommend is for you to make the best of your situation. You can have a very secure and prosperous life here, once you settle in."

Hans was growing more and more impatient. "I can't exactly leave Kranzgrad behind me."

"Why not?"

"Because they will follow me." He pointed out the window. "I was part of the first of a series of expeditions. We were due to come back a month from two days ago. When we do not return to port, questions will be raised. They will send out more men, possibly even a small army. And since they won't have a Berkian crest, what happens to them?"

Waltheson was silent for a moment, as he rested his hand on his chin. "All I can recommend is to seek an audience with Lord Haddock, and tell him the situation. He may understand."

"He may?"

"I cannot give you any more advice than that. There is nothing I can do."

Hans buried his head in his hands, grabbing his hair. "God, that kid and his infernal dragons!"

A few hours later, Hans was repeating his spiel to Mach, both of them standing far in the grassy fields, as they kept watch over the sheep.

"Trust me, you're not the only one unhappy with the Dragon Overlord." Mach muttered as he kept an eye on the flocks. "I know the governor says that things are better now, and in several ways they are. But at the same time, Lord Haddock wields an iron fist, and there is little comfort in knowing how powerless we are to stop him if his mood sours."

"We have to do something. I have to do something, I can't sit back and wait for more of my countrymen to sail in here and meet their own demise. And I know I can't rely on the emperor, how would I persuade him? Appeal to the goodness of his heart?"

"There is nothing to do. As much as I and others may resent his rule, we have to stay silent about it. Lord Haddock doesn't take criticism well."

Hans didn't reply. He was watching, in the far distance, a pair of two-legged dragons - Nadders, was that their name? - chasing each other, nipping at each other's tails. One would take a playful snap at the other's spikes, then turn and sprint away as its partner gave pursuit.

Finally he spoke again. "They MUST fly a far ways from Berk, just to come and play here."

"Possibly. More than likely, though, they come from one of the other nests. The emperor's tamed almost every one of them in the archipelago, and even started a few of his own. It's a way to keep his reach wide across the islands. He normally only employs the nest on Berk, but if he were to amass every dragon together, he would have a flock of hundreds, maybe thousands. No one knows for sure."

They watched the two Nadders play some more. The reptiles dashed past the sheep, which gathered closer together but otherwise did not acknowledge their proximity.

Mach followed Hans' eye. "Ah, hard to believe isn't it? Dragons, being so happy and friendly like that."

Hans pointed. "Not two days ago...one of those nearly impaled me with its spikes."

"Yeah, they're cheerful enough - until someone provokes them." Now the Nadders were facing each other, bobbing their heads in time, still full of playful energy. "The second you hurt them - or the second Lord Haddock points at you and labels you 'bad' - they turn nasty."

"I can only imagine how they would react if the emperor himself were injured."

"You don't have to imagine. He told us very plainly when he first came here." Mach spoke with a bitter smirk. "The second someone kills him, not only can the assassin look forward to a very messy death, but so can the nearest village and everyone inside. They're trained and everything. Honestly, it's a brilliant move. A man sacrifices himself to kill the emperor, he's a hero. A man sacrifices himself and the people he fights for in the first place...he's much, much less of a hero."

Hans shook his head, and spoke with a grave voice. "In Kranzgrad, we don't have this. We don't have authority so concentrated like this. We do have a king, but he answers to a body that we elect. They constantly vie for superiority, and so neither of them get it. But this...I must beg your pardon, but what you live under here is barbaric. To have one man - a boy," he corrected himself again, "possess the ability to condemn hundreds is terrifying to imagine. Even if he considers his intentions noble, if he holds that much power, he can only evolve into a monster."

Mach nodded. "Welcome to the waiting game that is Greater Berk." He suddenly noticed something in the distance and pointed. "Hey, get that sheep back over to the flock here."