Finding a way down the cliff was more difficult than Hiccup had anticipated. If he had rope—but no rope would be long enough to be completely useful, he reminded himself, as he shimmied down a particularly straight part of the cliff. He didn't know why he was doing this—trying to find the creature. It would most likely kill him, if he did find it. If it wasn't dead already.
Perhaps it was because it, the Majaras, were sacred to Kor. And Kor happened to be the supposed mother of Astrid. He could just leave it to die, he thought. Or kill it himself.
But, for reasons besides Astrid, he wanted to find the creature. He wanted to make sure it wasn't dead. He wanted to make sure it was still alive. And if it wasn't… he felt guilt grip at him again. He hoped it wasn't dead.
It wasn't that… he was against the killing of animals, not when people had to eat, and, at least in Berk, the land was unforgiving and food was often sparse. But this creature wasn't like anything else he had ever seen.
It wasn't… it wasn't natural. Or, perhaps it was too natural. An original creature from an older world.
And he wanted to know more about it.
Besides—he wouldn't necessarily be able to find his way home the other way—at least going downhill and westward, he might find his way out the The Jungle. He dropped the last few feet, and nearly stumbled over the edge, but managed to grab a root and hang tight, regaining his balance. His breathing was difficult—sitting in his comfy apartments all day had weakened him, making him lose some of his muscles he had gained in the war. He sat down on the ledge, looking over and down, trying to decipher where the Majara had fallen. He heaved a breath, before looking out across the jungle. It was vast—deadly—and beautiful. He could hear birds calling to each other shrilly, and other sounds that could only belong to animals, but what kind, he did not recognize.
He removed his pack from his back, digging inside to take out a water flask. Lifting it up, he nearly drained it all, but saved some in. It would take hours, if not days, to finally find his way out of The Jungle. He had read that some of the streams in here had properties that could drive one mad, and that one was never to drink from any water within the Jungle.
He had lost a shoe on his way down—and his foot was aching and the skin on the soles were starting to shred. Not good, he thought to himself.
He breathed out slowly, his breath returning to normal, and his face not quite so hot. He needed to get out of the sun—but here on the cliff, where little foliage grew, it was hot and almost dry, and the dirt burned him, even through the soles of his boots. Carefully, he rose to his feet, and began to look for another way down the cliff.
By the time he found shade, the sun was almost setting. Not quite—it would take approximately two more hours before full darkness, but Hiccup felt anxiety creep over him. What kind of creatures lived in The Jungle? And… how many of them were hungry enough to eat a human?
He wished he had a torch—or even some flint and stone, to light a fire. But alas, he had nothing but his water flask, the cloth that had held his lunch, and his sketchbook and drawing tools. The next time he stupidly rushed into the deadly forest, he swore to himself, he would come better prepared.
He sat down next to a tree, leaning against it, thankful for the shade and comfort of rest. He closed his eyes, listening to the birds, as they gave their last songs.
A twig snapped.
Hiccup opened his eyes, looking around wildly, but saw no sign of life, except a bird two trees away from him. Finally, he looked up.
The oddest creature blinked lazily back at him, moving so slowly that Hiccup at first thought it was a corpse, hanging from the tree. Long claws gave him concern, but he quickly realized that, unless this creature had the intelligence to move agonizingly slowly as a deceptive tactic, he most likely could outrun it.
"Hello," he said, giving it a tired wave.
The creature blinked again, and it almost looked like it was smiling at him. It inched along the branch.
"What are you called?" he asked.
The creature, rudely, did not answer. Hiccup sighed and shrugged, before leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He needed to sleep. He was too tired to continue. He would have to ask Camicazi or Heather to spar with him once—if—he got out of here alive. He needed to tone up. He was out of shape, and—
He opened his eyes with a start, blinking into the darkness. The only sign of light was bright flowers that were suddenly in flower all around him, glowing in the dark. When had he fallen asleep? How long? He stumbled to his feet, looking around. The slow creature was gone, and he could not see any sign of it.
He must have been asleep for longer than he had thought.
Thanking the gods that he had rarely prayed to that no hungry animal had come across him while he had been sleeping, he hurried through the trees—careful not to step in any pools of water or streams. It was difficult, for the water looked tempting at times, and his throat and chest ached with the need to drink. But at other times the water looked murky and dark—though it could have just been the low light.
Hiccup felt a breath of relief expelled from him when he suddenly stepped out into a clearing, and the sky above, speckled with stars, lay above him. Somehow the night sky seemed bright, compared to the darkness that was the tangled trees and foliage of The Jungle. He closed his eyes. How could he have been so stupid? Even if he had felt like some other force was calling him—forcing him to run into The Jungle, he should have fought it. Where was his sense of self-preservation? Gone, long ago, he thought.
For the first time, all he wanted to sleep in his own bed back at his apartments. He would even welcome Astrid's company to the eerie loneliness that he felt now. He heaved a breath, swallowing hard, and walked to a lone tree in the middle of the clearing, and curled up under it. As he drew his knees to his chest, resting his chin on his knees, he felt tears prick at his eyes. He didn't feel like a child, though, when faced with a living nightmare.
He realized with a start, that he missed his apartments. That it was starting to feel home. A strange type of home. A prison-like home. But it was comforting, in a way. It was safe. Even Camicazi and Heather he missed. And Lori, Lavi and Beorna.
Even Astrid…
He forced himself to stay awake.
Until he fell asleep.
HHHHHH
He woke, with the acute awareness that something was sitting on him. Opening his eyes, he peered down to see a kind of large duck sitting on his chest. Opening his eyes wide—he grabbed at it, but it deftly jumped off him and scurried towards the woods. "Wait!" he cried out, hunger stabbing at his stomach as he dashed after it, urging him to move faster than his exhausted body and mind were capable of.
He grabbed the duck just before it reached the woods, and quickly snapped its neck, sinking to the ground and sighing in relief.
Well, he wouldn't die today, and that was good news, if there ever was one. Now he just needed to find good, clean, drinking water and he might survive.
He plucked the duck clean, before realizing that he had nothing to cook it with. No flint or stone. That didn't deter him for long—for he remembered his grandfather teaching him how to start a fire by rubbing wood together.
It took at least an hour and a half to start the flame, for most wood in The Jungle was damp, but he finally started it. At first, he feared that it would sizzle out, and he would be without fire or food, but it finally caught, and soon he had a large enough flame to cook the duck. He had buried the duck in the dirt, and placed a thin layer of dirt above it, hoping that the coals would cook it.
It took enough hours that it seemed past midday before he was able to eat. He tore into it, and would have eaten the whole thing, dirt and all, if his stomach did not hurt from the effort of eating, and lack of water. He resolved to put the rest into his pack to save for later.
He continued on, looking for any sign of the creature as he went. He didn't fancy being a hungry—angry—supernatural cat's lunch.
When it was halfway between midday and dusk, he stopped by a stream. He had long run out of water, and his throat was now parched. He knew he wouldn't go on long—or survive long at all, if he continued like this. Berating himself not for the first time—nor the last—for running off the trail yesterday, he knelt down, and examined the water. It look clear and cool—and safe enough. Enough.
He would drink anything at this point, if he could. Anything to make the throbbing in his head go away. He lifted a cupped handful of water to his lips, looking up as he heard a twig snap—his eyes widened. He grabbed his hunting knife from its sheath, and stood, forgetting the water, as the Majara gazed at him. He blinked. It wasn't moving—it wasn't dead, but it was laying down, and it looked almost pained. Finally, the creature let out a low, long whine, and turned its head, and Hiccup heard licking sounds.
Hiccup looked over his shoulder, as if making sure no one else was seeing this, before walking forward. The creature turned its head towards him, and let out a slow growl. Hiccup took a hasty step backwards. "Hey now," he said, putting up hands in defense. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The creature cocked its head, giving him what could only be considered an 'austere' expression. He himself had given it to Astrid plenty of times. Not for the first time he felt innately that this creature had an almost human intelligence. The feeling was unsettling, but he ignored it, inching around the beast, giving it a wide berth, and saw to his dismay that it was nursing a severed rear paw.
How the creature had not bled to death, he didn't know. Perhaps the myths were true. Perhaps it was some kind of god-animal. He shook that thought from his mind, and walked towards the paw. The creature growled again, and Hiccup put up another hand, before realizing that the creature was not looking at his hand-but rather the other hand, the one that held the hunting knife. "Oh," he said, "Here," he dropped the knife, and kicked it away. The creature tilted its head in confusion.
Shaking the feeling that it was indeed an intelligent creature, Hiccup inched towards the foot, crouching down. When the creature growled again, he paused. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said. The creature narrowed its eyes, examining him.
He started inching forward again, the creature following him with its eyes. "I'm just going to look at your wound," he said. "You know… see if there's anything I can do for it."
The Majara did nothing except watch as he knelt by the foot. An excessive amount of blood lay in a puddle around the severed paw, and Hiccup had the feeling that if the Majara was going to die from this wound, it would have done so hours ago, if not yesterday. He set his jaw, guilt stabbing at his back. This was his fault. This majestic creature would be maimed for life, because of him.
He looked up, meeting the gaze of the Majara. "I'm sorry," he said. The creature blinked at him.
He looked back at the paw, then took a double glance. Though the paw was gone—there was almost no blood coming out of the wound. In fact, if Hiccup didn't know better—it looked like it was… "It's… healed," he said. He looked up at the Majara, his eyes wide. "You're… You're not really an animal god, are you?"
The creature gazed at him shrewdly.
"Don't answer that, please," he said, turning his head to look back at the paw. "But still, this must hurt. Here," he removed his pack, and then shrugged off his tunic. He began to wrap it around the wound—but the creature hissed and winced away from him. Apparent strange magical healing powers or no, the creature still felt pain it seemed. "It's okay," he said, "I need to wrap it so it doesn't get dirty…"
The creature gazed at him, and stilled, allowing him to do his work. "What's your name?" he asked.
The creature gazed blankly back at him. He shrugged—still an animal, it seemed. Godlike or no. "That's okay, you don't need a name," he said. "I'll just call you Majara."
The creature blinked, and Hiccup stood, examining his work. The creature slowly, and carefully, rose to its feet, balancing strangely with its hind paw drawn up and away from the ground. "You okay?" he asked, but the creature ignored him. He shrugged again, and grabbed his pack, slinging it over his shoulder. He needed to get out of here as soon as possible. Though the Majara was clearly not—at least for now—a threat to him, he needed to get out of The Jungle. He didn't fancy another night here.
"I'm heading out," he said, awkwardly. It seemed strange to say goodbye to an animal, but he suddenly felt strange leaving it—as if he didn't want to. He stood there, and he and the Majara gazed at each other, before the creature blinked at him, as if acknowledging his farewell. "Right," Hiccup said, rocking on the back of his heels for a moment, before turning around and heading towards what he hoped was West.
He jumped in surprise when he saw the Majara come into his vision, walking slowly, but awkwardly beside him. He looked up into the cat's face, as it walked, in a strange, and almost jumpy fashion, next to him. It obviously had difficulty walking with only three legs—but that did not deter it. "Joining me, are you?" he asked. "Thanks, I could use the company."
The creature let out a soft, but non-threatening, growl. "Thanks," Hiccup repeated.
They walked in silence. Slowly, for the creature was hopping along and would often need to stop to rest, but Hiccup was thankful for its company. With the Majara, even with it injured, he was less likely to become another animal's dinner. Every once in a while the creature would turn and walk somewhere else—and Hiccup had the distinct, and uncanny, impression that the Majara was actually leading him. Sometimes the creature would pause to drink, and Hiccup did as well. That, at least, saved his life.
"And then, Astrid said—" Hiccup said, recounting a memory, a few hours into their trek, but stopped short when the Majara did. "What is it?" he asked, looking around worriedly, before realizing that he could see light ahead—bright light. The setting sun.
His eyes widened, and he took a few stumbling steps forward. He paused, turning to gaze at the Majara. "Thank you," he said. "I'll… I won't forget you. I'll come back—I'll figure out a way to help you walk."
The creature gave a small yowl and turned, shuffling awkwardly on three legs up the hill and back into the Jungle.
Hiccup heaved a breath, before heading out into the grasslands, more than ready to go home.
HHHHHH
Before he reached the gates of Cartan, he realized his foot that had lost its boot was now bleeding. He was limping severely, and his clothes were battered and he smelled. The only thing that had kept him going the last few miles were the thought of a hot bath and a bandaged foot. The guards in the posts gazed down at him shrewdly. They called out to him in Yorvani, but he did not understand what they said. "I'm Prince Hiccup of Berk!" he called up to them, feeling irate at being kept longer from his bed than was necessarily. "Consort of the Sun."
He saw the guards' faces blanch, and a smaller gate opened for him to enter. "Lord Hiccup," one of the guards said as he passed through. "We did not recognize you—"
"Alright," Hiccup said, waving him off. "Do you have a horse I can use? I don't think I can walk any longer."
The guard nodded, and dashed off to fetch a horse. Another guard led him into the guardhouse, and he sat down. The feeling of sitting on a cushion was the most incredible feeling in the world.
"Word has been sent to the citadel," one of the guards said. "The Sun should be on her way here any moment."
Hiccup nodded. Now that he was here, he found himself weakening. The trek through the jungle, and then along it and the walls of Cartan to the gate had him pushing himself beyond what he was capable of—on little food and water—in order to survive. Now that he had arrived and was safe, he found himself unable to do almost anything that required any form of physical or mental strength.
He found himself growing drowsy, and suddenly, or perhaps time had passed while he was unaware, a guard appeared in the doorway, and said, breathless, "The Sun—she's almost here…"
He heard an announcement of sorts—someone greeting someone else—before a shadow fell upon him, and he looked up to see Astrid standing above him.
HHHHHHH
To be continued...
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