This chapter is somewhat like the ideas that people have given, with a little Rhett-flair thrown. There is real latin used in the following, if you think really hard, you can guess why. Read and review please, there are only two days left and I would like to end the story on a wonderful note. It is actually rather funny, today I bought a viking style sword at a boutique and found out that it is made with crappy pakistan steel. Lucky me.

Disclaimer: I'm too broke to say that I own HTTYD. *cough* Those stingy . . . *cough cough*.

I didn't sleep much that night, and who would? If I was brought back to Berk now, then what would happen to Glint? I didn't think that he would want to come with me, that would just restrict him more. I had pondered and thunk it out over and over until the sun came up, and the world began to wake. Glint didn't seem so worried, but he probably didn't know what was going on. I carefully scratched behind his ears to wake him; it worked, but he seemed to want more after words. I continued to scrape my fingers across the back of his neck, he purred delightedly. I don't want to lose this . . .

Thank goodness that Glint had brought my things; I had wetted a strip of leather and letting it shrink into a brace around my currently bad ankle, not too bad, it works. What I really wanted to do was figure out why in Thor's great beard were they here early! Yet, at the same time I dreaded to go and ask. What if they take me back on sight? I wouldn't be able to say goodbye, the possibilities were endlessly streaming out of my mind, imagination warping reason. Vikings weren't known to think hard, let alone think soundly, but with as much free time we have nowadays we kind of picked up on it. I stopped scratching Glint's nape and scooted myself over to the cave mouth, putting as little pressure on my ankle as possible. I looked out long and hard across the sea before me, then down to the island's shore. Nothing, not even a sun-bleached sail, stood out inside my surveying eyes. Maybe it never happened . . . maybe I'm just thinking things up . . . there was no ship . . . but it looked so real . . . no . . . just my imagination, my mistake. I thought to myself, though not really convinced; there was still another half of the island shore that I couldn't see and didn't want to.

"Alright Glint, 's time to get up." I urged halfheartedly, I don't want to lose this. Glint stretched out and yawned, his teeth showing out in the semi-dark alcove. We flew out from our stony surroundings, greeting the morning view with morning vigor . . . yay. I could've looked at the other half of the island from our high vantage point, but lifted my eyes to the sapphire skies instead. I don't want to lose this, the message echoed inside my head, a resounding resolve that wouldn't be ignored. We landed in our usual clearing on the beach right next to the cliff's bottom, the stony walls rising majestically to our left and bathing us in shade. I took to my rock overlooking the tide, peeling off my eyepatch and looking into the water. I got to work cleaning out "the slit". The only good thing that I could say about the whole process was that the ridge in my right sight had cleared. Tired of the tedious ritual I splashed salt water in my face, savoring the burn it gave, before wiping away the stickies and retying my eyepatch.

I stood from my rock and turned, expecting to see Glint sitting there watching as my sentinel. He wasn't there, but recalling that he usually left every morning calmed me. In a few minutes he would come bounding into the clearing with a fat fish for breakfast, I was sure! I stood, waiting for a sign of his return; footfalls, a rustling in the palms perhaps. But he never came, not a sound nor sight to testify of his arrival. Where had he flown? What could he be doing? The pit of dread in my gut deepened with each passing second, gnawing its way into my very soul. I waited for the better part of an hour, unblinking, unmoving, just waiting. Tension blanketed the atmosphere, the clearing was full of sound yet void of it at the same time.

Something's wrong, I decided bluntly, the wait was not the issue but rather the mood. The trees were too silent, the air too dense like trying to breath through a straw, the vibe of the world had changed if only for these few moments. I blinked, my immovable state beginning to wane. I twitched my fingers in anticipation, the adrenaline beginning to prickle up my back. Before I knew it the trees were flashing by as I ran, my feet lifting high to avoid any snags that could trip me. I perceived my surroundings only as they flurried past, barely giving me time to maneuver around choice obstacles. Why am I so stupid? I should've looked the second I touched ground! I screamed at myself, hating my decision to play dumb and pretend everything was alright. My breath stung at my lungs, but I refused to stop! All of the sudden the trees opened out into the widespread palms before the shore, I was now on the other half of the island.

I stopped dead in my tracks at the monstrous boat before me. It was huge, must have been at least two hundred feet long! The design was outlandish and weird to me, the hull was curved widely on the top and thinly at the bottom, similar to viking design but not as rough. There were two sails, one small one at the bow-sprite and one super big one at the ship's center, both were red and white striped. The curled scroll-like design of the ships two ends, as well as the sleek oars sticking out of the sides like a centipede, confirmed my suspicion. Roman, I'd heard the folklore of their ambitious conquest, this was one of their boats!

I ducked behind a tree, realizing that I was out in the open. I peered out from my hiding place, Where are the Romans? I got my answer, jumping about five feet as a shriek rang out. The roar had resonated to my left; I turned, and in the trees I saw what made my heart sink. Men in plated suits of armor, wearing helmets that looked like red horse manes, were dragging the struggling and screeching figure of Glint towards their ship. I winced in sympathy, Glints wings and legs were tangled up in weighted nets and these men didn't seem to be pulling gently. Glint thrashed out again, kicking one of the Romans to the ground; the fallen man, of course, didn't like that and unsheathed a sharp looking sword.

"Inquam neco drache!" The sword hefting Roman screamed indignantly, waving his sword angrily. I have absolutely no idea what he just said!

"Jurar, quieto. Imperator egenus instruo drache equitus!" another Roman with a nasty scar down his forehead gibbered. I was now completely confounded, what were they saying! Why were they here? What are they doing? Just let Glint go! He's done nothing to you! "Tamen," the scarred man continued, sneering evilly "possum misfacio inculpatus."

I didn't know what was said, a joke maybe, because the other Romans started to grin devilishly. It wasn't a joke, the men began to circle around Glint's incapacitated body. The man with the sword sheathed it before lifting his leg and slamming it into Glint's side, Definitely not a joke! They all joined in, laughing their evil Roman laughs as they started kicking at a helpless Glint. Every thud of their armored boots rang heavily in my mind and heart, every cry from the helpless Glint made the rage swell savagely. Their condescending cackles were ticking me off, I'll shut them up! I'll make them hurt!

"I'll send you all to hel!" I screamed while hurdling through the trees toward them, the only thought in my mind was "VENGEANCE!". For a semi-scrawny half viking half fish-bone, I hit pretty hard. I rammed myself into the first Roman, he crumpled back in surprise, the rest of them were not as easy. I had the element of surprise for about ten seconds, in which I bashed the downed man unconscious and gave another one a nice nosebleed, but I was an untrained viking versus five . . . four combat seasoned Romans; not the easiest fight to win. I pulled out the knocked-out one's sword and hefted it at one of the remaining Romans. In four seconds I was on the ground, pinned by a metal plated boot and the Roman therein. I looked and saw Glint beneath his nets giving a mournful and hopeless look, howling sadly. Don't give me that Glint, it's not over yet . . .

They were kicking me now, their armored legs showing no mercy. Every hit was a hammer fall, the pain echoing through me like spiderwebbed cracks of glass. I closed my eyes erecting mental defenses against the driving footfalls, a stray kick landed on my bad eye sending my mind into agony overdrive. I writhed on the ground, shielding my eye with my hand and feeling the warm blood flowing from it. So this cruel joke is how it ends. The misadventure of Karma Haddock. No . . . NO, this is not how it ends!

I caught the scarred man's foot mid-flight and twisted like my life depended on it, and was rewarded with a satisfying crack. He screamed in agony and fell back, one of his associates hysterically jabbering in Romanesse. I had gotten up on one knee before I felt the wind being knocked out of me once more, a crack of my own resonating out as pain lanced its way into my torso. I doubled over in agony, my vision pulsing blacks and blues, it felt like sharp splinters were jabbing under my skin. With two down and one tending to them, there were only these last two Romans to deal with. I tried to stand, my back arching in pain, another crunching WHAM to my back reintroduced me to the sandy earth. The darkness was closing in fast, and Glints shrieking roar was the last thing I heard before the shadows took me completely . . .

(time hath passed)

-night

My body felt very sore when I came to, my arms were tied behind my back my pectorals and shoulders felt really tight and tender. My legs were free, but felt just as bad as though they had been tied. I took a deep breath, big mistake, the deep gouging sensation set alight in my chest. One of my ribs must have broken, that must have been it. I lifted my head to look around and my eye started throbbing with the movement, they must have reopened the scar too. Those Romans!

I was in some sort of brig, the ceiling low and the floor strewn with dirt and hay. Across from the wall I was sitting against was a crisscrossed barricade of steel bars, their sheen dim and rusted from the sea spray. I pretty much figured that I wasn't going to leave anytime soon. I spoke too soon, because a train of footsteps clunked down the hallway beyond the bars and into my vision sight came some burly Romans surrounding a gangly man. The thin man had a crooked nose and slightly curly hair that hung down, his face was currently contorted into a smile. Keys rattle and the barred door swung in on its hinges, two of the beefy men accompanied the skinny guy. If your planning on blabbering to me in Romanesse then you can just leave!

"Welcome to our humble abode dear little viking." he spoke, perfectly understandable, and with a tone that got my blood boiling "You tried to free the drache that we caught fair and square. You savages are all the same, you steal what others have rightfully taken. What did you hope to accomplish? Were you scouting out mounts as well for your tribe? Hardly civilized for them to send a boy to do a man's job." His condescending tone screamed "Punch me! Punch me!".

"Mount hunting?" I asked, confused at what the Romans were talking about. They couldn't possibly be trying to . . .

"Why of course, the emperor wants a new battalion of winged cavalry. You cheeky savages think that you are the only ones capable of bending the drache to you will? Albeit it is a tiresome process, you uncivilized ones must have no better use for your time." this jerk just keeps rambling, I thought to myself as he finished. I molded the words around in my head, trying to give him the most insulting comeback that he'd ever hear.

"So the republic of Rome has fallen, your legends of equality and fairness, what a joke. You bleat and squeal of our inferiority, while you yourselves are just dogs barking over what's left. And you have the gull call us savages." I said smiling sweetly, he didn't take the joke so well. Sharp pain resounded through my body as his knee connected to my gut.

"I . . ." he started, huffing in anger "can have you killed at a seconds notice, you are just trash!"

"The weaker the dog the louder the bark," I replied with a warning tone, before remembering "take me to Glint."

Mr. Scrawny slowly regained his composure, "Take him to the drache, then make sure he dies painfully." he said more directed at me, before repeating his orders in Latin. The two burly Romans grabbed me by my arms and dragged me out of my cell, down the hallway and up a flight of stairs. I was shoved and pushed to a small cell with bars twice as thick, they unlocked the door and tossed me forward. Along the way my bonds had been cut, so I used my freed hands to steady myself on the hay-strewn floor. In front of me was Glint chained at each leg to the floor, a strange harness strapped around his head and ears that looked to clamp his mouth shut; his wings were the only thing free to move. What have they done to you!

I limped across the floor, my sprained ankle screaming in protest. Glint eyed around scared before returning his gaze to me. I threw my arms around his neck in a sore hug, the hopelessness overcoming my emotional dam. "So this is how it ends," I started hoarsely "no survival for me," I scratched a bit behind his ears, he groaned happily "no freedom for you. It turns out that neither of us can get what we want." my hands found their way to the collarthat laced around his head, keeping it shut, there was something protruding from the area to the side of it. My hands found the deformity and I realized what it was, it was loose a scale sticking out of Glint's neck. Sorry, I thought out to him as I pulled the scale out, keeping up the mirage that I was still scratching his neck. I could testify to the sharpness of dragon scale edges, my eye was proof, so my idea wasn't that hard to think up. I sliced the scale across the leather band of Glint's restraint, pretending to be giving him a rub down on his neck, and was happy to see a little cut mark where I had sliced.

". . . No great escape. No master plan." I said a little less convincingly as I sawed through the band around Glints ears "It's our fate that this ends, then fate willing," the band split with one last slash "we'll end it right!" I yelled before tearing the strange headgear from Glint's face and hurling it at one of the two guards at the door. His face caught the contraption quite nicely; they both broke into bouts of yelling in latin, but were soon silenced with a blast of blue flame from Glint. I scuffled over to the guards bodies, finding his keys before running back to Glint. After a few seconds of trial and error I found a small key that fit into his shackles and started twisting for dear life, begging the gods to slow any reinforcements. Click! The first iron manacle clanked to the floor, Glint started to growl excitedly while I began my work on the second leg.

Click! Click, Click! Glint was free! He shot out of his holding cell like he was possessed and started thundering down the walkway, roaring as he went. I pitter-pattered after him, trying my best to keep up in my current condition. A few halls and ladders later we were on deck, where dozens of Romans were running around and grabbing nets. Your not getting him again! I decided, Glint must have agreed because he spat out several bolts of blue flame at the netters. More started to close in, too many for Glint to blast at once. They encircled us like birds of prey, slowly closing the gap.

"Glint, lets go!" I told him, he seemed to lose some of his ferocious composure at he sound of my voice. The Romans charged in with their nets and hooks, but we were already away; flying into the night's black cloak, letting it shroud us in safety. We had just cheated fate!

Dun . . . dun . . . duuuuuuun . . . Yeah, I'm too tired this morning to write further, besides this chapter is about one day like all the others.

Sorry I took so darn long to write this one. Stay tuned for the last two days! Please review, I love constructive criticism. If you want to know what the Romans said in the first half, please ask and I'll add it to the end notes in ideographic english. If there are flaws in the latin writing and you so happen to be a latin speaking guru, then please tell me and help me rectify it.

Me: The tension's killing me!

Karma: Yeah yeah whatever.

-Glint takes a stick and writes "press the button!" in the sand-