Part 2

Chapter 10:

A Taste of Death

In my dreams, I flew.

I flew high, higher than even the birds dared to go. The air was clear and blue, with no clouds or winds to bar the way. Beneath me, Grayheart roared with delight, and once more, just once, I was free.

"Are you ready girl?" I asked excitedly. The typhoomerang turned her head, and I swear I could see her dragon mouth grinning. "All right, let's go!"

We dove, toward the earth and the fish and the sea. The water hit me so hard it knocked my breath away, but I didn't care. Opening my eyes, I found I could see underwater! There were so many fish, with colors so beautiful it felt we were soaring through the dragon's nest. When Grayheart finally surfaced, I was grinning from ear to ear.

Then everything changed.

The sky was dark and stormy. Lightning rippled across the clouds, and the smell of rain was thick in the air. Reaching down to grab Grayheart's neck, I found her gone. Replacing her was a small, black dragon, one I didn't recognize.

"Who are you?" I called, fear gripping me my chest with an icy power. "What have you done with Grayheart!?"

The dragon looked down, and, following its movements, I stared over the strange dragon's shoulder at the reflection below us. What I saw made me more confused and uncertain then I had ever been before.

Staring back at me, with eyes as haunted and unfocused as a madman, was me.

Only it wasn't me. This person was scarred, with burns covering his face and neck. His hair was an unruly mess, and his eyes were no longer bright and energetic but a pale, cloudy green.

The duplicate's eyes moved then, and focused on the dragon. The dark animal was looking at me through his reflection, and his gazed was wide and penetrating – his green eyes slitted like a cat's. It made me feel as if I was riding a wild beast, one that didn't care whether I lived or died. As I watched, the creature opened its maw, and fire bubbled at the back of its throat.

"Wait, stop!" I cried, but it was too late. I fell forward, into the flames and heat and burning. Smoke. Smoke was everywhere. It blotted out the sun, only allowing the orange flames through and the distorted image of a great mountain off in the distance. The ground beneath my feet was made of snow, and it burned nearly as painfully as the roaring flames.

My throat was dry and cracked as I tried to call for help. "Grayheart, where…"

"Grayheart's dead, remember?" said Drago as he marched into view, his mighty spear in hand. "You killed her."

"No," I whispered. "It was you. I-I didn't…"

"Oh really?" The large man came in close, his breath smelling of death. "You were her rider, weren't you? Ha! What a pitiful excuse for a dragon rider you turned out to be. You couldn't even save one dragon, let alone your mother or the Alpha."

I sank to my knees and covered my ears. "No, it can't be true. No…"

He laughed. "That's right, failure. After everything your mother did for you – training you, caring for you – what did you do? You let her die, that's what you did. Now you can't even get revenge properly." Drago stepped back and held out his arms. "Well, dragon rider? I'm right here! Can't you kill me?"

A green gas was filling the air, and I clutched my throat as I began to suffocate – my vision warping and darkening until nothing seemed quite real. The last thing I saw was the far-off mountain erupting and a colossal, black dragon flying forth, death spewing from its jaws.

Drago simply laughed.

-o0o-

I woke up gasping for breath – my fingers clawing at my throat. Everything was so dark.

Was I drowning?

Was I dying?

The blackness all around felt to be getting smaller, and I couldn't seem to get enough air. Feeling my face, I grabbed the dirty piece of cloth I found there and tore it off….

Nothing. No cave in the Alpha's nest, no mother greeting me with a bright smile, and no Grayheart.

Everything slowed down.

No, I wasn't dead. I was still here, blind and alive.

Again.

I draped an arm over my face, wishing I could command my heart to slow down like I could command the dragons. Another nightmare…

They had been happening a lot lately, but never this vivid. Most of the time Toothless would wake me up, the scent of my fear the only indication he had that I was suffering in my own person hell. It happened nearly every time I closed my eyes, until I was so afraid to go to sleep I wouldn't even lay down unless I could touch the night fury. He was like an anchor, holding me above the flames and the darkness and the guilt.

It almost made me ashamed, the way I depended on him. A part of me – deep, deep down, hidden in my heart – still hated Toothless. Every time I called for him, every time I longed for his touch, I remembered that it should be Grayheart here with me, helping me fight Drago both physically and mentally. But instead I had failed her, and replaced her with the closest thing – a deaf, brainwashed dragon that had to be half-mad if he still wanted to stay with me.

A half-mad dragon that could be dead, for all I knew.

Clutching the rag in my fist, I curled up on my side – my knees hitting against something hard and uneven. It was a tree-branch. Fanning out my fingers, I discovered more of them all around me. The realization that I was in a cage made of wood came quickly, yet it surprised me how much I really didn't care.

Toothless, I thought, biting my lip. Toothless, be alive and save me, but if you're not, then just let me die.

People talked close by, their voices low, far-between, and muffled by what I assumed to be the walls of a tent. I couldn't hear what they said, but somehow I knew that it had something to do with me. The bottom of the cage was flat, but rough enough so that I knew I'd be picking splinters out of my backside for a long while.

That is, if I lived that long.

The air smelt of wet earth, and I felt a tingling at the back of my skull that meant a storm was coming. A big one. Alongside the murmuring voices, there was a sound in the background; a distant white-noise that could have gone unnoticed if I didn't have such sharp hearing. Letting out a long breath, I tried to calm down. My pulse was still racing, but now that the adrenaline was wearing off, I began to feel nauseous. With every beat of my heart, it felt like a Gronckle was chasing a mouse around inside my head. A very, very happy Gronckle.

The sound of footsteps on dirt approached the tent. I quickly closed my eyes and slowed my breathing, feigning sleep. A flap of fabric, and two men walked in.

"Still sleeping, the dirty mongrel," said one of them. I recognized his voice, but I couldn't place where I had heard it before. He was probably one of the men at the camp – someone who fooled his family into thinking they just defended dragons as equal creatures and nothing more.

The man bent down and grabbed my chin, yanking it upward. It took all of my self-control not to tense and jerk away from his cold fingers in disgust. "Look at his face! Do you think Shank made the right decision choosing him?"

"He's a traitor," said the other one. This voice I had never heard before. He sounded utterly board, and from his tone, I could tell he was a tall, muscular man.

"What does being a traitor have to do with anything? If it were me, I'd a chosen one of them ardent females. Now that would make a sacrifice!"

So that was it. I was the sacrifice. I was going to be sacrificed to some non-existent dragon god in place of vikings.

So if I was even below vikings, what did that make me?

I must have furrowed my eyebrows, because the man let go of my head and it fell back to the hard wood board. Ouch. "Hey, look," he said. "The kid's waking up."

Guess there was no hiding it now. I groaned – which I didn't have to fake – as if just surfacing into consciousness, and slowly opened my eyes.

"Wakey wakey," the man said, a cruel grin in his voice as he unlocked the cage door. "Rise and shine, kid. The celebration is about to start, and believe me, you won't want to miss it."

Oh, I very much doubted that. No celebration for me, thanks.

I snarled at his face. He didn't seem to like, because next thing I knew, he had grabbed my throat and was hoisting me out of the cage, up into the air.

"You got a problem?" he snarled. Was it just me, or did everyone in this group of crazies have a fuse shorter than all the nightmares combined?

"Just…your face…." I gasped.

"You're blind, idiot. Or did no one tell you that yet?"

"Believe me….not even a….blind person could love….a face like yours."

"You little…!" I flinched, waiting for the punch I knew was coming. But the man was stopped by the sound of delighted laughter behind him.

"I like this kid!" The other man laughed. "Beaten and hopeless, he still has a sense of humor. Now that's more than I can say for the people around here!" He sounded a lot different than before, like what I had said helped to chaise away a little of the boredom that was so prevalent in his voice earlier. "Let him go, Tang. It's about time to leave."

"But Zax-"

"Are you questioning me?" said Zax, his voice still happy and upbeat.

"…No sir..."

"Then let him go."

With only a twitch of hesitation, Tang released my throat and stepped back. I sank to my knees, gasping as cool, soothing air filled my lungs once again.

"What's your name, kid?" Zax asked. He had bent down, and was now level with my face. This…was weird. Did this cult always get to know their sacrifices before slaughtering them?

"…Hiccup," I said guardedly.

"Well Hiccup, you might want this back." Gabbing my wrist, Zax set something soft in my open palm. It was my blindfold. When did he…? Oh, I must have dropped it when the cultist grabbed my neck.

Quickly, I tied it back over my eyes. It didn't really make a difference if I wore it or not, but I preferred the old cloth over the scars around my eyes. A young woman named Nio had given it to me, right after she had found me passed out by her front door, a not particularly happy night fury standing guard over me in the snow. She had been the first person to show me any kindness since Toothless and I set out together.

Nio…I tried not to think about Nio. Not anymore. Having the old scrap of fabric as a reminder was painful enough.

"Thank you," I muttered, the fingers of my right hand still lingering on the rough cloth.

Zax didn't say anything, but instead got up and began to walk out of the tent. "Let's get going," he called over his shoulder.

Tang grabbed my arm and dragged me to a standing positon, then began to follow his superior. His large fingers dug into my skin, and the man made sure to push my shoulder up until I thought it might pop out of its socket.

"Come on, filth," Tong growled. "And don't think that you'll get any favors just because Zax seems to like you. Believe me, he's as cold-hearted as they come."

Not knowing quite what to think of that, I was forced to march as the cultist dragged me out of the tent. A chilly wind hit me as soon as we were outside, and I realized it must be very late in the afternoon; maybe even dark already. The animals and bugs normally out this time of day were all silent in wake of the coming storm.

"Bring the traitor here," called a voice I had only heard twice before, but knew all too well.

Shank was waiting for me at the altar.

It wasn't until I was forced closer did I identify the strange white-noise I'd been hearing all this time. The sound of roaring water surrounded me, and I could follow it to my right as it seemed to vanish off the face of the earth.

The top of a waterfall. What a fitting place for a sacrificial ceremony.

Immediately, I knew we weren't anywhere near the camp. This waterfall was much larger than the one I had lured Astrid to what felt like an eternity ago. And, judging by the thinness in the air, we were much higher up, probably near the top of the mountain. I couldn't believe I had slept through that entire trip.

Well, considering how my head felt at the moment, the cultists had probably made sure of that.

Tang stopped about a twenty steps later, forcing me to a painful halt. The waterfall was still several yards ahead, however, he didn't seem to want to go any further. That was when Tang pulled out a knife from his belt and poked the sharp part of it between my shoulder blades. The message was clear – from here on, there was no going back.

"Take a step up," He commanded.

When I didn't comply right away, the cultist pushed the weapon harder, twisting it so that it drove into my spine and forced me to arch my back. Gritting my teeth, I explored the ground with my foot and found the base of a stone staircase. Slowly, we started climbing, Zax in the lead. This staircase, however, was apparently not made for a blind person, because it was like trying to scale an Alpha's tail without a rope. Thick, spiked weeds poking through cracks in the rock made it easy to trip. The wavy, warped shape of the stone didn't help things either, and I had a feeling they were made that way purposefully. Once, when I tripped and reached out a hand to balance myself, I felt something carved into the rock that wasn't shaped like traditional writing. But before I could identify the figures, Tang dragged me back to a standing position and we renewed our march.

I counted about a hundred steps altogether on the altar, and when we reached the top, I could hear the waterfall vanishing into the darkness below. The heat of lanterns helped to ease the chill on my bare shoulders, but provided little comfort in the form of light. I supposed the altar had to look pretty impressive – what with the whole structure hanging over the edge of the falls – but at the moment, I could care less.

Forced to my knees, I heard Shank dismiss Tang before turning to me.

"Enjoying our hospitality?" the leader asked. Funny, he didn't sound like he had a sense of humor.

"It's delightful," I deadpanned. Here, have some sarcasm. I hope he choked on it.

I could almost hear Shank frown. "It is a shame that you cannot comprehend the importance of our work here. We could have used a strong young man like yourself, especially one with your…talents."

"What you're doing is sick," I spat. "Deceiving your families, offering sacrifices to some pretend god. It's despicable. You're all sick."

Shank laughed – a slimy, gurgling sound that made claws against stone seem almost pleasant. "Oh, how little the ignorant truly understand." Then his face was close to mine, and I could smell his fouling breath. "The dark one is not our god, nor our hope. He is nothing, and everything. The closest thing to true darkness we, as simple humans, can comprehend. He is represented by the dark dragon, but such a creature could never do him justice. What he is, is the personification of destruction. You of all people should know this….Right, little dragon rider?"

I swallowed. "How do you know about my heritage? Who…who are you?"

He moved in closer, close enough so I could feel his hot breath against my ear. "It doesn't matter who I am. I am simply a watcher. No, what matters is you. Who are you, really? I already know – about your blessing, and your curse. About the darkness within your heart, the foul reaches within your soul not even you can find; you guilty, guilty little fool. Yes, I know everything, as does the one I wait upon."

My hands were shaking as I listened to the man's sinister voice worm its way into my soul. Was…was it all true? Did I…know…? It can't it can't it can't it can't he can't….

"And you know of whom I am speaking, do you not?" his voice was low now, almost calming. "It's alright to admit it. Go ahead."

"I…I do."

He smiled blackly against my ear. "Then say his name."

The name seemed to leave my mouth in a single, defeated whisper. It tasted like death.

"…Ragnarök."

Above me, thunder boomed across the heavens. Shank stood up, and I could just imagine the triumphant grin plastered across his face.

I was defeated, damaged and hopeless – a perfect sacrifice. He had won.

"Now, I think it's time the little village below us came to its end, do you not?"

Someone shoved me from behind, and I almost screamed when my face met cold, empty air. Before I could scramble away from the edge, Shank stick his foot right in the small of my back, making me grunt in pain. The wind picked up, and I felt panic threaten to make my heart burst. But even now, I could only think of one thing.

Toothless.

"The moon has shown her face…it's time to summon a dragon. It's time to summon the storm."

Toothless!

A blade was drawn from somewhere within Shank's clothing. Hefting it over his head, he let loose a piercing cry and brought the weapon down.

"TOOTHLESS!"

…And then the world exploded.

-o0o-

Hello everyone! Long time no see! Yeah…sorry about that. Something big happened in my life, and it was hard to even think about writing, let alone sitting down and actually doing it. I am trying to stick to a schedule, but it's just really hard for me to do that when I have so many other things going on. So, sorry, but I can't guarantee this won't happen again in the future.

Yippee! We finally got to the good part! Well, maybe not the good part, but one of the ones I've been looking forward to. Truly, though, there are a whole lot of things I'm looking forward to in this story :D

Don't forget to review! Until next Time!

P.S. I published a new story. If you're an anime fan, go check it out ;)