AN: This and the second half of this chapter are quite important for the future events. Sorry for the delay! Writer's block... Thank you to Fjord Mustang for reviewing the chapter! Look out for her next story, this time in the Rise of the Guardians universe!

The wind was howling like a murdered man.

The freezing air, mixed with even colder brine, splashed widely across the rowboat's edges, rocking it like a leaf on an angered torrent.

The half-crescent moon did not provide a lot of illumination as if thought it had grown tired during the colder months.

Water dripped from the impermeable, black cloak as Amyna surveyed the cliff towering over her, balancing in the middle of her small vessel at the same time.

The rock formation seemed slick with moisture and smooth as glass.

She left the boat to the merciless waves and tied its lead rope to a rock that she then stepped on. She lifted herself onto another one right next to the enormous wall's surface.

Even in the dimmed light, two objects that she retrieved from beneath her long robe glistened in the woman's palms. They appeared as large, metallic pegs, thicker as her thumb and as long as her forearm.

Simply out of curiosity, Amyna tapped the stone with the handled tool's sharp end. Granite. Not even a scratch.

The female soldier whispered something soothing to the dragon on her back and closed her eyes for a moment.

She raised her hand above her head and plunged one of the nail-like tools into the wall.

With a loud crack, mostly muted by the roar of the foaming billows below, the wall relented to the tool's nail, quarter length of which ended up embedded in the rock mass.

Bracing her body against the cliff with one hand, the warrior lifted her other hand and repeated the sequence.

With a rapid, acute echo, the second nail also plunged with ease into the solid material.

Morning would come late for Berk after this night.

Pebbles slid in disturbed streams as Amyna ran downwards the mountain hill with an ease and speed more appropriate for a dragon.

The wind bit her face mercilessly as her light-footed stride made her seem to soar above the rocks, so scarcely did they seem to touch the ground.

Barely able to see at night, she relied more on instinct and senses that had been heightened by her current state.

She felt the sole of one boot heat up as she jumped towards another point on her journey down the precipitous surface and deeper into the darkness.

A pine's top took most of her neck-breaking momentum, its core whining and leaning with the applied force as she grabbed it for balance. The stealthy woman jumped off the freshly-appointed decelerator and landed on the hard forest bottom.

She did not savour these heavy winters, although she had to admit that the silent, moon-lit forest had a romantic quality. It was a very good atmosphere to maintain concentration. The coldness forced focus and the quietness, awareness.

The village was lit, almost cheerfully with smaller and bigger fires in the distance as she regarded it from another cliff's edge. This island certainly had a lot of sharp edges as if even the landscape forced toughness on its inhabitants.

She let out a deep breath as she gently tapped her dragon's head twice over her shoulder, letting him know it was safe, and that it was time to show himself. The narrow and small yellow muzzle stuck out from the cloak's edge as the dragon looked around with curiosity.

Amyna waited as Melleth fully walked out and positioned himself on her shoulders like a lazy cat expecting a ride.

The difference was that cats were not as resistant to temperatures as dragons were. His caretaker kneeled and took the creature in her hands, feeling the slow and strong beat of the drake's heart beneath her glove. A pair of big pupils looked up at her: what did she need from him?

"Hide yourself," Amyna whispered as she took off a scarf from one of many pockets and holders beneath her cape and tied it around Melleth's neck. The youngling would be calmer if he had something that smelled like her. She mostly did it for sentimental reasons, though,"Mummy needs to go. I'll be back at dawn. Don't show yourself unless you know it's me," she said gently, petting the side of dragon's head. He leaned into the touch.

"Go," she said quietly and the dragon ran-leaped away from her, turned back once and disappeared in the shadowed woods.

They separated, even though the protocol stated that a dragon youngling must be concealed and kept with its handler at all times.

It was a change to the rule she had invented herself, so that if anything would happen, then it would happen to her alone.

This would prove to be the best decision she could have made.

The even surface of a frozen meadow looked cosy enough to spend a few hours there and simply wait.

She looked up, trying to observe the stars which, as if toying with her wishes, appeared dimmer. It did not matter.

Something struck the back of her head powerfully, and she saw stars, brighter and more beautiful than any sky would ever offer.

Melleth found the spot he looked for. It was a narrow ravine in a dried creek, its end pointing at the village below. Now it was inhabited by the wind, forcefully brushing the sides of the yellowish youngling. As trained, he kept his wings tight close to his body and let the gusts pass him.

Amyna woke on her own, with a jerk that almost made her scream from pain.

She attempted to reduce the hurting with mind-control. This sent even more ache through her body. Now she did not scream but yelled her lungs out, almost passing out from the agony.

That pain was comparable with the time when she had given birth for the first time.

"Please avoid moving," somebody said as her spasms finally reduced to minor twitching. Despite her state, she already knew what was happening.

She had been captured, rendered unconscious although not for long as she could tell from her reaction time, her hands and legs were not constricted. However, she sensed something along her spine. She could vaguely feel needles piercing the skin and bone. Her captor must have given her some anaesthetic to reduce the pain. That pointed to one thing.

She was meant to be kept alive. And she knew that war prisoners are kept alive for a few things: interrogation, for exchange of goods or other prisoners, or as a political pressure tool. Or, even worse, to be hung, cut, tortured similar gruesome mutilations to her body done to entertain a crowd in the morning. The situations varied according to the culture or fantasies of the executor.

"Can you talk? Please, look at me."

The voice, a smooth and feminine alto, spoke from a different position, one closer to her.

Amyna was curious on how the woman knew Imperial Standard, as the language was known only in Empires colonies or Nifgradral after the capitol Nifgrad.

Other possibilities and theories bloomed in the prisoner's head, faster than anyone would expect from a person who should have been shocked, afraid and panicked.

Amyna felt none of that, and she stayed with her face turned towards the smooth, reflective white floor. That floor was much too clean and well kept compared to her usual experience with prisons.

Her handler sounded genuinely concerned. If she wanted to check on Amyna, though, she would have to approach closer.

Then it would be Amyna's chance. It would most probably prove futile; however, she would not discard a chance to get free, no matter how slim.

Her more than sufficient strength had not yet been diminished by the inevitable starvation and torture prisoners faced.

Her plan was futile, indeed; her keeper simply lifted her up without even having to touch her.

Amyna's kept her face hard and unmoving as her body levitated in telekinetic field.

"I apologise for how Aeon treated you," her captor said as if reciting the formula for an umpteenth time, "he adheres to the rule 'better to use more than less' ".

Amyna stilled a breath when she saw who was talking to her.

Red eyes slid over Amyna's body in clinical scrutiny before they returned to the pieces of parchment held in a paw-hand.

The Imperial soldier's rigid training gave way to confusion, and she stared blankly without uttering anything.

The dragoness turned the scrolls towards the prisoner.

"What do you think about them?" She asked, looking directly into Amyna's blue eyes that refused to acknowledge the question.

Unperturbed, the creature hid her muzzle behind the scroll, ultimately exposing the uncooperative human to a drawing.

"This was made by a twelve-year old girl," the gentle voice came from behind the held-up primitive illustration,"the given topic was: what makes you happy. Please note that the artist was kept as a subject of medical experiments and later as a sex slave for a depraved, disillusioned leader of a fanatic semi-religious, semi-military organisation. Intriguing, don't you think?"

Amyna did not found the topic interesting. Mostly disturbing. She looked at the picture.

Simple, curvy black lines, a girl with a smiling face and red, masses and masses of red blobs swimming in and out of what seemed to be a pile of bodies.

"I am amazed by this creation," the white-skinned creature spoke as she turned the parchment back to herself.

"Not by the subject, but by its expression. I feel exhilarated when gazing upon the full magnitude of the girl's withheld emotions. It's truly a dream spun into life with a few colourful pencils."

The dragon-like being looked back at the prisoner with mirthful eyes Amyna already did not like.

"Isn't it absolutely amazing? Seeing for the first time how your own thoughts, visions and fantasies can be produced outside of your mind? It's one of the powers of art, in whatever form it may be. An indirect conversation, a glimpse into one's...heart? Mind? Brain? Soul? Forgive me, I don't know which of the terms would be most acceptable for you" she apologised, unnecessary so.

The scariest part was that the dragon-thing appeared sincere in her demeanour. But the bizarre mask of tranquillity and internal satisfaction did not crack as Amyna was lowered back down with delicateness.

This must be some sort of opening for an interrogation, an elaborate tactic to enforce a false sense of security.

"What do you think of this other drawing?" The dragoness asked.

Amyna complied by looking at the shown drawing. Every moment spent without pain and torture was time she could use thinking of how to escape.

The dark blob resembled a dragon with an unnaturally big head. Its green eyes were enormous and a reddish symbol marked the disproportionate forehead. Next to the blobby dragon was a stick-figured girl with a crescent line for a smile.

"This drawing is sad," the light-coloured creature stated,"it speaks of longing, of pining for better times. Look how accurate the symbol on the dragon's forehead is, how finely defined the eyes are. She has spent a lot of time looking at them. They allow her to reminisce and to engage her curiosity. A guardian figure... no wonder she is comfortable only around dragons. She's convinced that they represent goodness and gentleness, something which would not harm her. I'm quite certain that she hates her own species. How about you?"

The white dragon asked the prisoner, who now sat with her legs crossed and a passionless facade.

"What imagery helps you get through the life? A mental crutch you can support yourself on? Is it a memory?" Seven looked at one of the pictures briefly," Or perhaps it takes a form similar to the creature in which my young patient finds consolation in?"

Seven tilted her head. "I know that you did not arrive alone. Humans might be fooled, but I can sense the smell all over your body."

Amyna shuddered internally from relief. Melleth had not been captured, and she hoped it would remain this way.

"We will capture your companion sooner or later, and then I will explain my plan towards you. Know that I do not wish to harm you; in fact I want you to leave free... You don't believe me, do you?"

The dragon-creature asked this rhetorically, as Amyna did not present any evidence she thought like that. She did not believe any of the traitorous words, of course.

"Luckily, I don't need your cooperation for this to work. What I expect you to do is to simply... wait, But, before I leave, here are a few ground rules," it took a moment for Amyna to realise that something appeared out of nothing in front of the dragoness.

"This is what I put along your spine, woman."

There, levitating, was a nail-like object, but one with a more flattened head and hooked along the pin with a glass-like core.

"I've installed seven of these devices along your spine. They are designed to hinder your Tagma manipulation ability. You cannot remove them without specialised instruments. If you do get bored and decide to toy with them, please kindly remember that these hooks are well-embedded in the middle of your spinal nerves. Therefore, if you don't plan on extending your career as the Empire's first paralysed military officer I would advise you to leave them alone," Seven explained this calmly, and the pin-like item appeared to dissolve into the air.

The dragon rose herself up onto three legs, the fourth one still holding the drawings.

"I have also removed the poison capsule embedded in your tooth. If you still wish to commit suicide as you were taught to do after being captured, I know there is not much I can do to stop you. You would probably find some way, and probably a very agonizing and slow one," she appeared to think for a moment. "Actually I could do a lot to immobilise you to the point you could not even move your eyeballs, but I trust your judgment. After all," the red eyes turned to Amyna,"I do think you would like to see Melleth again."

Amyna's interrogator left, leaving behind a very confused and terrified prisoner.

Hiccup sighed for the fourth time, scratching the side of his neck as he looked around the familiar, empty white room. No sign of Seven. However, "empty" did not mean that he no longer had a dragoness as a babysitter -or a guard. He sensed she was still in the room. He played a bit with the white sleeve of the garment he wore, trying to identify- futilely- what it was made from. He felt restless and agitated.

Seven had promised him some knowledge on how to help Toothless and, by the Gods, it would make him happy not to feel like this useless, one-legged, ill toothpick he had become since waking up to a changed world.

All he had been able these days was to meditate, eat and listen about how his best friend was developing some sort of condition. And, all this while. His village was slowly hurling into civil war over the dragons' status as allies. Or pets. Or as fish-gatherers. Or as corpses.

Opinions were divided.

His father had softened the truth although the signs of the inner upheaval were transparent on Stoick's face when he attempted to lie. Hiccup's friends also did not sugar-coat the news.

Hiccup wanted to do something; any movement was still progress, anything to take this crushing swell of guilt, remorse and seclusion out of his chest. Why bring him here if not to talk to him, teach him something amazing and helpful?

There had been no advancement for him, only mind-numbing wait. And it was torture.

Breathing harder, he sat on the edge of the bed. Its structure, as well as the material it was built of, was as alien as the surroundings.

Even his clothes were beyond his understanding. He was kept in a place he had no idea about, supposedly kept here for his own good.

Was the woman-not-goddess telling the truth? It was too late to question himself or anyone else.

He knew that the choice was now taken away from him; he did not have the power, strength or knowledge to oppose it. As Braedan had said, he was a tool. Hiccup was content with it. As long as it helped Toothless.

On the small table by the bed he noticed, once more, the shining exterior of the glass with the helpful additive (as he called it) inside as if taunting him, reminding him of his inutility. The mocking factor was increased by the metallic crutch leaning against the furniture. He picked up and briefly considered smashing the pale blue container as it cooled the interior of his palm. He saw rippled green eyes in the shaky liquid.

In the end, Hiccup did what was best. He drank.

"Have you checked the perimeter?"

"Ten times."

"Then check it again."

The purl of water filled the cramped -for a dragon, anyway- room with soft murmur, along with warm mist.

Seven had her now-humanlike face raised, silently enjoying the relaxing sensation of heat enveloping her body. The Nadder cracked his neck loudly as he regarded the woman with a bored stare, the heated air condensed on the silvery plate curving around the creature's eyes.

"Stop it, you know I don't like that," Seven said dreamily, not opening her eyes. The blue dragon took this as a cue to give his report.

"Tagma signal- silent. Thermal signature matching a dragon's-negative. Olfactory trail detected by the capture point and lost in nearby area. Reattempts to find it again- failed," his head bent again to sound the spine's bones again, although it stopped at the last moment.

Even though Aeon's eyes were hidden beneath the visor, he was definitely regarding the humanoid figure. He glimpsed the last remains of a congealed substance beneath her feet quickly disappearing through the grate.

"The bioelectric sensor did not work at all, and colour differentiation on HMD seems set up for a human. Can't see green colour at all," the Nadder complained with no verbal reaction.

Seven touched a circular protrusion, and the cascade of water stopped immediately.

"I did not have time to calibrate all components completely. I'll repair it once we have stabilised the situation," she stated, stepping to the metallic bench where various pieces of equipment lay, all in perfect order. The only item in disarray was a small pile of white clothes, thrown negligently on top of the matching boots. Aeon did not mention that his leader had somehow found time to take a hot, relaxing shower; he knew better. Seven loved to be clean at all times. It was one of her quirks. One of very many.

"I did not know the water systems were operational," he warbled as the humanoid woman picked up a neatly folded rectangular piece of white material and started wiping the remains of the water from her body.

She could have done it much quicker using Tagma, yet she preferred doing almost everything just like a human would. It made things more natural, she said.

Talking about quirks…

"It was the first installation I've restored. It did not need a lot of work, only cleaning some pipes from rock and residue," Seven answered happily, dressing into a uniform exactly like the one which lay in the heap behind her.

" I still do not know why you are not outside looking for Melleth," she observed, putting a pair of gloves- white, of course.

"Last time I went outside, you ended up with an incapacitated teenager and with debris buried inside your chest, not counting the hole in the titalium wall and equipment destroyed that cost net worth of a few countries," the Nadder rebutted instantly. He knew he was over exaggerating, even if only a little.

"Your concerns are noted," she said, her tone emotionless, "Keep to the protocol. Aerial recon: every five intervals, report. You know the drill...I will be prepared this time," she added as if to persuade the protective dragon.

True to her philosophy, as always, the next items on the strong worktable seemed better suited for battle preparation.

Heavy, almost knee-length boots made from various, dark grey metallic components on a black fibrous material clicked into place from the top of the foot up. The boots sealed themselves tightly around her legs.

"Your protocol is faulty, in this case. We have two battle-capable individuals. That's not much, considering that the opposing force possesses a group of more than one hundred Tagma-capable soldiers and dragons. The odds are sub-optimal, to say the least," Aeon stated adamantly, shifting his body. The edges of his wings glistened with a dangerous sharpness. Bladed pieces of metal had been fastened to the appendages with black belts.

Only a few other plates were strapped to his body along his tibias, thighs and the sides of his torso, with a triangular piece at the front of his chest.

"My armouring is considered to be a barely provisional-type, as well. The weaponry is almost non-existent, and the structure offers little to no protection. The only thing we have in abundance is energy, but not much equipment to power it with," Aeon continued his irritated tirade whilst Seven sheathed her thighs and waist in more protective armouring. She was in the middle of putting the chest-part, the bottom of which hung open as she inspected the coverage of shoulders.

"And I don't trust the pipe-choker and the purple hedgehog," the Nadder hissed.

Seven pushed her hands. The aegis' sides clicked and closed around her torso,"They are stronger than you," she noted, securing braces.

"For now!" The Nadder rebutted aggressively and then huffed, folding armoured wings against his sides.

"On what power percentage can you operate?" Seven asked, putting an armoured glove on her left hand and a scanning device on the right - they blended perfectly with the rest of the equipment, as if they had been designed for it.

"Twenty," the blue-scaled warrior answered.

"Stably in a combat situation?" the white-haired woman remarked.

Her last piece of protection, a helmet levitated from the bench alongside her. She strapped it on. Then she bent and took each piece of used white clothes. She folded them neatly into a perfect square.

"Sixteen...," the Nadder said with contempt.

Seven turned her head in the middle of finishing trousers and raised a pale eyebrow.

"... If I push it," he finished.

The door folded inwards automatically as the pair entered the corridor.

"You still haven't taken the restrictions off Akil," Seven noted and the clangour of armoured feet against the floor stopped as she turned fully to the following drake,

"Why?"

The Nadder for once did not provide an answer, and she could not tell how his eyes looked like, concealed by the metallic plate.

Then, surprising even the dragon, her gaze softened.

"Let Akil help you. He's a part of you, no matter how much you wish otherwise. If you want to blame anyone for his existence, blame me. This is the life I forced onto you-"

"I will deal with Akil," the Nadder stopped the self-depreciating speech.

Human-shaped lips jerked into a delicate smile.

"When the right time comes," Aeon clarified.

"Of course," Seven agreed. She could have given him the order to release Akil, and he would have followed. She never did, though. It was something with which he had to deal on his own.

"Where are Braedan and the old one?" The Nadder asked.

"Occupied, trying to analyse the chemicals they found in the girl's blood," Seven replied.

"You gave them access to the analysers?" Aeon sounded shocked.

"That was the deal Braedan wanted. I was to provide him with equipment which would identify the compound. I filled my part of the bargain," Seven, for some reason, smiled wider and brushed nonexistent dust from her armoured shoulder

The Nadder, noticing this, thought for a moment and then grinned with satisfaction.

"I see."

Radzik was not a happy person at the moment.

"Let me get this straight. You traded one of your most advanced and best-preserved armours for the possibility to know what the Empire is using?" He said, almost calmly considering the situation.

They had both spent the previous couple of hours doing exactly what the weapon-trader had wanted.

"Yes," Braedan said with a clenched jaw. He wanted as much of his dignity to remain as possible.

"Well," the physician took a hissing breath, "here it is," he pointed for the third time at the hologram in front of them with a very detailed and complicated atomic structure of the substance, "I can understand that you made this decision in the heat of the moment, not thinking clearly. But can you tell me how are we going to know what it does, if none of us has any reference to work from and has never dealt with such advanced chemistry before?!"

Radzik continued this tirade. Braedan pretended he was not bothered, arms folded and face emotionless.

"That we know from what it's made gives us no advantage! I can't understand such an advanced display. Hell, the image alone could spawn a few branches of science in its own right! "

"I thought you would know what we were dealing with. The data module I gave you had some information about advanced chemistry there," the trader defended.

"Something?" The doctor questioned in disbelief," The manuals there indeed contained something about it, but do you have any idea of how this works?"

Braedan did not answer.

Radzik shook his head, "Look, przyjacielu, we were always separate when it came to our professions. You were out getting money or trying to destroy the Empire, and I was trying to learn more about biochemistry and medicine. But I can't learn everything there is to know! All I can tell you about this device," he pointed at the square, black box with its holographic display on top, "is that it is a type of spectrograph that uses optical vortices. And even if we were able to identify what type particle it is, the name alone would not tell us anything. We do not know how it affects the human body, or what the short and long-term effects of it are. We need a different approach here. Either we make more tests on the girl, or you nicely ask Miss Seven to give you information about the compound or help us analyse it and truthfully you might be great ship Captain but you are as good scientist as goat's ass can serve as a musical instrument," the Pole explained accurately. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the back of the dimmed room.

He walked to the one of the prepared beds,"I'm going to sleep, Braedan. Miss Seven will be back in the morning to unlock the room. Discuss such things with me in the future, Brade. We've known each other for a long time. Maybe it's time to let others take a peek into your secret life. Dobranoc," he called.

Braedan heard the rustle of the covers and the hum not only of the machinery in front of him, but also of the entire place. The pearly glow shaded his face into a stone mask as he surveyed the results of the analysis. It took him a short moment to decide what to do. He turned off the projection, reducing the light to a very soft blue glow emanating from the top of the ceiling.

"Radzik?" He asked towards the beds.

"Mhhm?" Came a murmur.

"I'm sorry," Braedan spoke quietly.

"Nothing happened to be sorry about. Just... try to rely on others more from now on. Some fights you can't fight alone."

The merchant lay in his bed and closed the tired eyes. If only his scientist friend knew what he up was against if he would join him in a fight. It was too dangerous.

Even the prospect of sharing the burden with somebody else seemed empty as it had never been before.

"I'll put the prisoner to sleep and then join you in whatever you plan on doing next," the Nadder decided.

"There is no need for that and, unfortunately for you, I'm going to visit Hiccup, have a nice conversation with him and then send him home. I'm sure he's mad and scared. I'm late and you are continuing to stall me," Seven complained.

She was sure the Nadder's eyes narrowed behind his visor.

"The prisoner poses a threat, no matter how small it currently is. I'm sure you have a good reason why you wanted her alive and unharmed, but human ingenuity cannot be underestimated. It never hurts to be safe. Wake her up when you need her to be. Control her. Unless... you want to gain her trust," the Nadder mused, the long tongue slipping between his pointy teeth as he thought.

Seven appeared almost amused, waiting.

"Come to think of it, the moment the Imperial User appeared on the island not long after you were attacked seems like a bit of a coincidence," he creaked his neck to the woman's displeasure, "I think you made her come here!" he stated.

"I did," Seven admitted easily.

"What are you planning to do with her?" Aeon asked.

"Let her go," the Keeper answered calmly.

"Interesting! You want her to work for you? How are you going to do this?" The Nadder's tone became both stimulated and agitated.

"She has a strong tie to one of the soldiers who attacked me," Seven explained calmly.

"The one wh-the one you killed?" came an elicit response. Bladed wings shifted slightly as the dragon took a quick step forward, "I am looking forward to hear how you are going to make that happen! Glorious, absolutely glorious!" his tail waggled in great satisfaction.

Seven did not appear pleased by the praise, her eyes becoming colder as she appraised her companion.

"Go to the prisoner. I will take care of Hiccup. Meet me at the gate in ten minutes," she ordered, walking away without turning back. The Nadder strode almost with a spring, happy of the future entertainment he would receive.

Amyna pressed her palm against the air and moved it horizontally.

The air was solid at one place, two steps from the end of her cell and ran along the partially-scraped black line on the ground.

Her fingertips surveyed all reachable space without luck. She would have marvelled over this seemingly impossible feat of technology had she not needed to find a way to escape.

Her captors did not constrict her movements, which seemed an enormous flaw in a plan to keep a highly resourceful and trained person contained.

She gave the field a cautious hit with the back of her hand.

She yelped as her hand jolted back. A whitish ripple travelled from the place she had struck, revealing the shape of the keeping-space. She looked at her twitching fingers, inspecting them for any damage.

That thing did not like any attempts on breaking it.

Despite all the new information and her will to escape, Amyna's biggest concern at the moment was to abide by her training and not give the enemy any further possibility to gain information.

With her hands free, it gave her apt opportunities to do her teaching justice.

The other option would win, though. Amyna was aware of that. She had to know Melleth's fate; she had to know what happened to him. It was her biggest mental weakness, and the enemy had played on it flawlessly, capturing her attention by saying one name and destroying her options.

The message was clear: play nice and you will see your friend again.

She looked up, noticing the perforated surface in the ceiling. The mattress bent beneath her light boot as she stood on it. She put the tip of her finger to her lip and then raised it as high as possible.

It was there! A soft current of warm air. It had an almost unperceivable smell to it. It smelled... of the outside. She dropped to the floor and groaned, she felt every small tremor on her suppressor-rigged spine, and it was a far from pleasant experience.

Her strikingly-blue eyes surveyed the ceiling above the door. Upon seeing the same perforation outside her "cell" for the first time since she had been imprisoned, Amyna allowed a few more optimistic thoughts to enter her mind.

When the door opened and a blue-scaled, armour-clad drake entered, she barely constrained the smile growing on her face.

Soon, she would gain a new ally. Perhaps there was still a chance for her to escape.

Seven ran a quick mental checklist.

Braedan and Radzik were locked inside the research section.

Lalka was deeply asleep, with the help of a gentle anaesthetic, in the medical bay.

Amyna was currently being taken care of by Aeon.

Seven obviously knew more about the prisoner than she had let on.

She knew about her dragon and that he was young, not even an adolescent. He might have been treated as a beastly companion, but in reality, he served as an outlet for the motherly feelings suddenly crushed by the past which Amyna needed to express.

This was her weakness, and Seven had to exploit it for her benefit.

The white haired woman secured the levitating helmet beneath her arm.

Hiccup was still not used to some things and it was best to avoid exposing him to them yet. It would be enough for him to see her in a more natural form with red eyes and white hair. She had planned all the conversation which would follow. She would explain to the burned boy a bit of the theory behind his condition.

He would nod his head in understanding; however, he was doing so only for Toothless' sake. The moment she had put his best friend's condition in the balance, she had known that Hiccup would obey her wishes willingly.

The strong do what they can; the weak suffer what they must. It was a good saying. So human… reeking of imperfection and truth about the world.

And there she was, using her superior strength to use the human. She felt guilty, yes, although no matter how much it would gnaw on her emotional strings, she would not stop. The stake was much higher than the life of this boy, this island, even of her or Aeon.

She took a deeper breath. It was a habit, not as a necessity. Her lung function was always perfect, her heartbeat always controlled along with all the metabolic and physiological functions of her body.

There was no space in her life for imperfection.

That was when she almost lost her balance, placing her right foot, clumsily too much on the side. It was followed by her left missing the natural rhythm. Her reaction was instantaneous; she did not blame it on her emotions or lack of concentration. It was impossible for her to miss a step like that. It was a fact. Her vision blurred.

Deregulated lens? She was not tired, she did not need rest.

She was being damaged.

She tripped over her own legs as she tried to move and dropped flat on the cold, stony floor, not feeling the impact through the armour which did not manage to protect her in the slightest.

She felt as if her mind was slowing down and she was being wrestled into losing her autonomy.

Her shaking eyes drifted toward the ceiling, and her fingers twitched as she lost control over her body.

She eyed the end of the air vent: circular, small holes creating a rectangle.

Her eye pupils' quivering slowly ceased. The surface of her eyes became glossy, her finger movements stopped.

She knew what it was the moment she hit the floor.

The human had never been the real threat.

The little dragon was.

The snow owl's dark silhouette slashed the moon's grand crescent shape. The bird of prey glided between the trees, quickly and soundlessly.

But this changed as its white head suddenly collided at full speed with a tall pine tree.

The animal's spine broke with a quiet crackle. Its body dropped into the snow, unmoving, in the middle of a herd of wild boars.

None of the wild hogs moved, however. Every pair of eyes, half hidden by bushy eyebrows, just stared emptily into the woods.

Scarce snow dropped in lethargy, slowly burying the feathered body beneath it, as well as the larger mass of the absolutely still boars.

Somewhere in the forest, a twig loudly snapped as another bird collided with it.

Not many people journeyed through the village so late at night, yet several would lead heated discussions in the Mead Hall with the aid of the beverage the premises were aptly named after.

But the blushed, drunken faces had now lost their grimaced shapes and looked forward, completely expressionless.

Time had just stopped for almost everybody on the island.

Melleth's ability affected almost everybody.

The space to the left of Hiccup's bed came to life in a vivid cascade of electric arcs. Balerdargur appeared from her stealth-mode form in her usual manner. There was one very important fact which had changed: she was not moving, not in the slightest as in her still eyes appeared a reflection of movement.

Hiccup's head slowly turned towards the door. Suddenly, a serene smile blossomed on his face.

The silky bed sheets slid to the ground, waving in glistening patterns.

In silence, one pale foot lowered and made contact with the floor. A knee cracked as the boy started to push himself from the bed.

He laughed softly- almost childlike- and offered his hand to the air, invitingly. His pale arm hung there, unwavering.

"Don't go," he pleaded quietly,"I won't let you go," he said with a giggle.

Ignoring the prepared crutch right next to him, he let himself slide from the bed onto the floor, his body thudding hollowly against its surface. He sat up and, like a child, he crawled on hands and knees towards the door. The undignified position did not bother him in the least. He had other things to concern him.

"I won't let you go!" he repeated again, "Not this time!"

A droplet of blood splashed beneath one of his knees.

With a weak shift, the youth crawled towards the right end of the door.

He gave another child-like laugh, and he lifted a hand from the floor, using it to search for something on the wall.

"I am list-e-e-e-e-n-i-i-i-ing," he called in joyous sing-song.

His head started to twitch and his eyes rolled inside his head.

Hiccup closed his eyes, exhaled. Instantly, a smile materialised again, strangely out-of-place.

He raised himself to his knees, awkwardly. His fingers touched a small, almost invisible, protrusion on the wall.

A rectangular hall in the wall opened, revealing a panel with various buttons on it. In a blur, as if he had always known the code, the boy's fingers danced on it, and stopped as fast as they had started.

The gate opened.

Breathing a bit deeper, Hiccup dropped back to hands and knees and continued crawling towards the bellows through the dark corridor.

"I'm c-o-o-o-oming," he said with mirthful conviction.

He completely ignored everything in his surroundings.

Seven's inert body in the middle of the corridor went unnoticed as he crawled by.

Hiccup had a much more important goal to obtain.

In the dimmed corridor, his green eyes seemed to glow like two flickering points above his white, wide grin.

Hiccup slowly advanced forward, knowing very well where he was going.

He had made this journey before.

"I'm co-o-o-ming, Mommy," he said softly, leaving Seven's unmoving body behind him. He ventured towards the darkness.

It was not long until it consumed him.

Melleth waited patiently, thinking only about when he would see his caretaker again.

He was not aware of what he was just doing or why.

He was doing what he had been trained to do, and was doing it because of his growing connection to the blue-eyed woman with the strong hands but delicate voice.

Tonight this little dragon happened to possess a very special and very unique ability that would change the course of the whole world.

He would never know about it and, truthfully, he would not even care.

All that mattered was to sit hidden with the wind behind him directed at the biggest human building agglomeration and wait for his beloved human to return.

The hole in the wall was still there, clearly visible as a dark blob in the monotonous grey surface.

The only light in the area was provided by one visible rectangular screen. It stood out in the middle of a "forest" of various technological marvels ranging from a strangely-shaped black box to mysteriously shaped tools scattered on along bench.

All of this was dominated by sizeable cables twisting along the floor and walls like veins. They all led to the second light-source, one casting a prominent shadow, casting a greenish glow on everything.

The tank in the room did not change, nor did the body within it.

The dark dragon's body hovered, subsided in the liquid amid a manifold of air bubbles and small pockets. One of them tore itself off the unmoving tip of an ebony snout, travelling jerkily upwards before stopping on the rim of the liquid.

A hundred mysterious metal objects pierced the draconic body, along with several attached wires that curled their way upwards from the opened tank.

There was no movement, and the periodically blinking lights and faint blips of electronics meshed well, creating a serene scene.

It all was disturbed by sounds permeating the air.

At first it was soft scrapping and shuffling in the distance, but it gradually grew louder. The sounds neared in daunting rhythm, now punctuated with heavy breathing.

Green, glowing eyes appeared in view first, reflecting light as cat's would. Then the white-toothed smile came into existence, followed by a crawling body swathed in greenish growing clothes.

Through clenched teeth came a breath that hissed with every movement of hands and knees. The pale face was marked with glistening sweat, hair stuck to the moist forehead.

The youth came closer, and the darkness scattered away before him as he neared the light. The dark silhouette of the human appeared small, insignificant against the entity before him.

Hiccup neared the thick glass. He used the legs of the tank to brace himself as he stood up. He balanced himself on one foot by leaning against some of the metal columns surrounding the tank. He saw himself reflected in the container's glass. His hot breath appeared on the transparent layer as a white mist as the temperature drastically dropped by the tank's surface.

The summoned human raised his hand, his reflection did the same and slowly they stretched their hands towards each other.

The twins made contact. Hiccup did not register how cold the exterior was, even though it instantly sucked all the warmth out of his palm.

He was finally here. He had been called and had arrived as requested.

In his mind, however, he was certain he was going to meet his mother. Even though he knew she had been dead for over eleven years.

He did not realise that his will was not his anymore.

Hiccup looked into the reflection and saw his face split.

Just like an egg shell and with a deafening crack, the black dragon's containment broke, deforming the reflected image of the person. Ice-cold liquid started flooding the floor; the wave ran as high as the boy's knees, the tank's fluid level getting lower with terrifying speed.

Silent screens burst to live and the shrill sound of an alarm penetrated the complex. But nobody would come to answer it.

The ebony body, clearly visible from the other side, journeyed down with the water as its tank emptied itself.

Not a muscle or eye expression changed for both the Fury and Hiccup.

Finally, the torrent turned into a rivulet, and soon there was almost nothing left inside.

An ear-piercing screech louder than the alarm grinded against the boy's ear as the tank's halves shot across the floor in opposite directions. A cascade of sparks erupted against their bottoms, crushing against the wall in a heap of shattered glass and bent metal scaffolding.

Right in front of Hiccup lay Toothless, muzzle down, wings partially unfolded. The great body was pierced with hundreds of thin pieces of silverfish meta. It did not move.

Amongst it all, a thick layer of chilling vapour started to form. It entangled the boy's knees and slowly consumed the broken, draconic frame.

Hiccup's hair rose slightly and weaved slowly. He felt himself rise up in the air his leg emerging fully from the mist.

On the table, items started leaving the bench's surface as well, inaudibly clinging as they bumped into each other. These sounds were drowned out by the alarm as the tools levitated upwards.

The whitish mist almost did not stir as it all left the ground.

Accompanied by myriad floating droplets of the liquid that had imprisoned him, Toothless now ascended.

The pieces of metal which had invaded his body now came out. They forcefully erupted from Toothless, one by one, all in a shower of blood.

The Night Fury's body jerked violently, again and again, as each piece was removed.

Red blood droplets formed globes and sped away into the darkness. A few of the flying red pearls splashed on Hiccup's face as he impassively observed the scene.

With the last metal piece withdrawn, the dragon's body now was mottled with wounds and a multitude of sheeny red hovering beads.

The injuries began disappearing, flesh, skin and scales reforming. Old scars flattened to nothingness.

One injury behaved differently, however.

The mark at the end of the tail behind the tail-fin bulged, as bones and tissue were generated until it recreated the amputated flying appendage.

Toothless' body was being recast in pure perfection.

It had to be.

It now was exactly how the sanctuary for a higher being should be.

The dragon's ebony head rose and a pair of toxic-green eyes opened focused on the youth.

A sharp-clawed paw unfolded and moved towards Hiccup's face.

It passed by the boy's head and rested on Hiccup's burn-scarred back, pushing the boy towards the dragon's chest. A second forepaw encircled the youth's scrawny frame.

Two, enormous black wings unfolded and, with delicate care, closed around Hiccup. The Viking youth found himself encapsulated in a tight, velvet-like cocoon.

The Fury's black pupils narrowed, peering down at the little human who had seemingly freed him with the lift of a hand against the tank.

Its grip tightened, and the boy's breath became a wheezing struggle.

The dragon's bluish- black muzzle cracked open in a sharp-toothed grin.

The being conjured a thought meant only for the one he embraced.

MINE

In a flash of blinding light, the Fury disappeared into nothingness, leaving only empty space behind.

Everything fell down immediately in a mass of clangs, thuds and splashes.

Hiccup and Toothless were gone.

Amyna heaved deeply, leaning against her helper as she descended towards the meadow where she and Melleth had parted.

The wounds from the Tagma inhibitors hurt as if somebody had been digging five, rusty arrowheads into them and twisted them slowly. It was a sensation she had personally encountered.

Actually, it was only a small portion of the agony which travelled along her system. With every touch or move from her muscles, her nervous system burned with white fire, consuming her focus and will.

That white-haired woman with the strange red eyes had been telling the truth when she had said that those small devices were connected to the nerves in her body.

Amyna fell on the ground; her cape and clothes rippling from the forceful contact.

She groaned and rose slowly on her shaking hands and even more trembling legs.

With this pain she could not focus long enough to enforce mind-control and reduce the pain. Her eyes travelled over to her helper.

"H-help me," she wheezed, raising her arm, hoping to be assisted off the withered grass.

She felt something entering her, and her fear did not allow her to react in time.

The terror ended soon, though, as a sense of soothing cold ran along her body, extinguishing the burning sensation her abused nerves caused.

She knew what to do. She closed her eyes and concentrated, easing her breathing. The alien sensation abandoned her, leaving her with a numbed, yet still tangible pain.

Her helper clearly possessed much better skills than she did.

She stood up and then whistled a peculiar sound which echoed between the silent woods. She waited for a few moments before a flutter of wings was heard above her.

The frozen herbage crunched as the tiny cause of the commotion leaped towards the beloved human who gave him scratches and cuddles.

Melleth stopped noticing the Nadder Amyna had behind herself. But some coaxing words from the tired-looking woman, her outstretched hands and her kneeling made him understand that there was nothing to be afraid of.

Her face had a certain blank expression and her voice tone was scratchier and less melodious than usual.

Still, it was always better to obey, even in such strange situations.

The yellow dragon climbed up on Amyna's body, wiggled his way beneath her coat and took his position on the soldier's back.

They moved again.

She never had these blurry, half-conscious awakenings.

They were always rapid, sudden, senses sharp at once and body ready to be utilised.

She now noticed a shrilling alarm, red, pulsating, shimmering lights flashing along the walls.

Seven stood up rapidly; a helmet lunged towards her hand. She grabbed it and put it over her head, twisting it slightly as the lock engaged.

She did not need to be told what the siren meant.

She took a look into Hiccup's room, and one glance told her the scenario.

It still did not answer how the boy had been able to open the door by himself.

Too many variables: she needed more information!

She ran towards the containment room with a speed that would make even the Nadder wary.

Carefully, she threaded her way between the corridors.

In a few moments she was there; as a cannonball she charged into the room, sliding through the knee-high, milky, mist. She reviewed the damage.

Barely missing a beat, she ran to the one of the still-working monitors. Her hand pressed the top side of her PSCMD's, and a narrow tube jutted out. She pulled on it, revealing a cable which she connected to the socket on the screen's side. With several taps of the buttons on her forearm, she downloaded the data regarding IT's escape.

She journeyed immediately through the corridors.

There was no time to waste; she would analyse the information on her way.

The door opened as she reached another objective.

The holding cell was empty. Her pupils focused on the few small items inside it, appearing as thumbtacks with glassy, hooked tips. Five of them lay sprawled and useless, all with blood on the tip which had already started to coagulate.

All of them now levitated before her face and then started disappearing into thin air.

The smell told Seven what she needed to know and it was- in simplest terms - very bad.

She ran once more and quickly checked on the other people in the complex. All were present, and all disabled by the gas in the air.

She praised the ingenuity of the Empire as she travelled towards the exit.

Or was the ingenuity merely a coincidence?

Out of every species of dragon the enemy had to employ, this dragon was one of the few which relied on a chemical to stun their prey. Somehow it never worked on humans to this degree, it had never before been so potent.

In every meaning of the word, the small dragon had become a bioweapon.

Seven stopped, the entrance before her. The massive, circular door was swung at the side, the night wind whistled as it trespassed inside.

She passed it; the scenery changed. Chalked stone, polished by millennia of dripping water.

The moist floor of the cave splashed in rapid succession as the Keeper made her way towards the exit.

It was small; several stars twinkled on the horizon through the window to the outside. The air in the frame of the exit seemed to wave gently.

Seven passed through the exit, and and air blinked around her body in arcs of electricity.

She stopped right out onto a stone pedestal in the middle of the mountain and peered slightly down at the silent village of Berk.

Behind Seven there, was no visible sign of the existing entrance, thanks to a ward-device which could conceal space by overlying holograms of the surrounding environment, in this case the mountain side.

Glowing light bathed the upper half of the woman as a hologram appeared alongisde her head. It displayed in green and white lines a three-dimensional topography of the surrounding area.

Two points appeared, both with clearly visible rune-like symbols next to them.

They were located at the Docks. The enemy clearly was not expecting her to be able to move yet.

Physically, there was supposed to be no illness or poison which could keep her down for longer than a couple of minutes. She had been created to prevail through almost anything, and prevailed she did.

She gamely followed her targets in pursuit. The forest cover closed in around her as she leapt forward. In a couple of minutes this whole struggle would end.

As Aeon would say "This will rid us of one problem".

It was useless.

The tall, blue, bipedal dragon did not react to her request to fly with her on his back.

The creature seemed to react to something else, though.

Amyna eyed the rows of drakkars, all with their sails folded for the night and tied to the docks as they creaked and chain sounded in the darkness.

She was searching for any available rowboat, as she was not familiar with the how to operate a drakkar.

Sailing had never been her forté. She had been trained in bow, sabre and fighting with these weapons from the top of a horse.

Suddenly she heard a hiss behind her. She looked at her helper; he was standing with his back to her and looking up.

She instantaneously understood the body language.

They were being followed.

Seven was pressed against one of the rocks so abundant along this steeply plunging cliff by the harbour.

She could barely sense the escaped Imperial soldier down by the water. No doubt the former prisoner was using Tagma to stabilise her nerve-crippled condition.

Then the Signal disappeared. Abruptly.

Seven had been spotted.

She lunged away from the boulder. It exploded, debris bouncing off her back with metallic thuds.

Pirouetting in mid-air, she caught the sight of a shiny blade. It cut in a wide arc right above her face as she bent backwards and sprung off her hands, gaining a bit of distance against her attacker. She landed on stony ground and took a defensive stance, standing still as a statue.

She spotted the unmistakable silhouette of the Nadder, blades shining along his wings as he somersaulted back and disappeared beneath the edge of the cliff to ready another surprise attack.

The question was: what to do?

If she used Tagma, Aeon and Amyna would sense her; of course, that was also true for them.

She had, however, one enormous advantage over them.

Two transmitters in both of the current adversaries made it painfully easy for her to track them.

There was almost no possibility for the human to overpower her.

The Nadder presented the biggest issue.

She had never fought against him; however, she had seen him fight many times. Each and every time, she had been glad he was on her side.

The enemy now had to attack her with full force or flee from the transmitter detection range.

As Amyna was not aware of being trailed through the device beneath her skin, she would most likely attack.

She felt the energy appearing along her body. She would slowly increase it, until the enemy had to react, not wanting to be overwhelmed.

Her right fist flexed and a hologram shined above her wrist, showing the position of each target. For now, she waited.

"Melleth...," Amyna's voice was calm and collected, "get off me and hide," she whispered to her little companion.

The narrow snout poked his way out of her furred collar, his smooth nose pressed to her pale cheek. The youngling whimpered pitifully.

"Hide," the female warrior whispered and petted the drake's head. Reluctantly, the beastly companion hopped down to the deck, looking up to his master.

"Go," Amyna repeated and ran towards the rock-stairs, putting a hand beneath the coat's covers.

Headless rivets shined in her hands as she moved upwards.

One opening, it was what she had asked. One opening, and the battle would be over.

As she neared the top of the cliff, she sensed a second energy rising rapidly and then clashing into the first.

A furious gust of wind sliced through the air with a booming crash.

Amyna could count three more. In such quick succession they fused into one.

Otherwise, the battle seemed silent. No scream of surprise, no roars, no gasps for air.

On the side of a small hill which was being turned into a ploughed field, she saw two glimmering figures blinking on the ground.

Her eyes, not able to see perfectly at night, saw the blades on the tall dragon's wings move in lightning-quick arcs, each leaving a white trail.

She saw her enemy then, as he or she moved with matching speed, avoiding every attack with impossible grace and technique.

The occasional spark from the wing-blade catching on rocks lighted the pair for a short moment before they turned back to a collection of shiny smears in the dark.

Amyna raised her hand.

Relentless.

His attacks were relentless.

Seven dodged another attack, a powerful side kick, only to be surprised as the Nadder, with a sudden swipe of his wing, propelled himself into a lightning-fast pirouette. Sparks flew as the sharp-edged wing caught her forearm plating raised in a protective gesture. The same hand twisted and, in blazing speed struck the wing right at the place it connected to the body, where it hurt the most.

Aeon seemed not to notice the blow which would have permanently disabled flight ability on any other dragon Using the close proximity to the human, he struck with his knee. A gasp, sounding almost like a sigh followed as the limb connected and threw Seven's much lighter body above the ground. In mid-air, the Nadder took a sharp breath A bright yellow glow appeared at the back of his opened throat. His slitted eyes narrowed as he shot the fireball. The blindingly bright orb cut the air with wild howl, aimed at the defenceless figure.

It never met its mark as Seven's body twisted, palm shot forward as if to catch the destructive projectile. It changed its course rapidly; right before hitting, the air around it solidified in an instant as Seven caught it in a telekinetic grip. She pirouetted, taking the caught missile along with her. Then she released it, right back at its creator, even faster than before.

The Nadder shot away, barely in time. The fiery ball sizzled by his rapidly-moving body, burning the straps which kept one of his wing-blades in place, and flew towards the horizon. As he shook his flying appendage to remove the now useless equipment, there was a thundering explosion on the ocean when the bright orb hit, lightning the whole island in a yellowish aura.

Seven waited for another attack, not exploiting the situation to her advantage as the gust of warm air from the blast assaulted the fighters.

Aeon's movement were slower than they should be; he also had limited Tagma control. Most probably he was not aware of what he was doing, his mind suppressed by the chemical and susceptible to outer commands. She could have end the fight quickly if she wanted to. The problem was that she wanted the Nadder, Amyna and her dragon to be captured alive.

She had to disable the Nadder first.

"Aeon, stand down!" Seven stated loudly as her companion started circling her, tail raised without a sign of recognition to her voice. She tried again, now from a different approach, " Akil! Command. Cease the unit's motor functions. Authorise by voice recognition. Process the command," she stated.

In response the Nadder swished his tail, launching few of his bony quills, forcing her to move.

Akil was still not working properly. Still, it had been worth a try as long as it posed a possibility. If Seven's assumptions were correct, her First-Speaker would obey only one person. Obviously, there was a fail-safe mechanism in place to prevent anyone from influencing the controlled being. What was it? A specific phrase, item or gesture? The sound of voice? Some sort of verbal password seemed probable, she thought as she parried a swishing leg swing aimed at her torso.

She grabbed Aeon's limb by the ankle and, with a grunt and twist of her body, she hurled him away, aiming at the cliff over the ocean. She did not want to damage his assistant during the fight, and it was the main encumbering factor during the fight.

She stepped back rapidly as her second assaulter attacked. With the Nadder momentarily out of the picture, the Imperial soldier now joined.

Something skimmed hardly over the Keeper's arm, without any resistance or a dull sound of deflection by the protective gear. She did not even have time to turn towards the attacker, as there was a loud hissing crack. She had heard those before, and she realised that the cleverly-won armouring she was clad in offered no real protection. Not against projectiles flying with five times speed of sound.

Something bore into the ground, right next to Seven's boot as she changed her position. During that time, she briefly spotted the side of the arm where she had been hit and saw a red-hot stripe of overheated metal in a form of small canal. That was a shame, she really wanted to have the armouring remain undamaged for longer. She had even considered giving it to Hiccup.

At least she was finally able to see her new contender, not that she really needed to; the soldier was brimming with Tagma, her presence as clear as a sun during the cloudless day.

Amyna was going all-out. Her hands plunged beneath her cloak and, as they appeared again, they both had long nails in them, not squeezed in her palms, but levitating above them.

Seven's red eyes widened as she eyed the weapons' sharp ends. Her feet left the ground as she jumped aside. Amyna's eyes did not leave her body for a moment. It was then when the lightning cracked along the human's hands. The electric tendrils manifested themselves in rapid waves, and the projectiles disappeared from her hands in an instant.

Two simultaneous impacts. Both missed as Seven changed her direction in the last moment, although she lost her skilled footwork for a moment.

The human woman's hands retrieved two more projectiles quicker than it seemed possible. This time, the Keeper had no contact with the ground to avoid another attack. Beneath the helmet, crimson eyes narrowed. A small, round pebble hovered above the ground in Seven's levitation field and then zoomed at the attacker just as she was to strike. The seemingly insignificant rock hit one of the nails just as the electromagnetic force was almost at its peak.

The effect was immediate. The careful and practised conjuration of energy broke. Only one of the nails was fired, one not stricken, overshooting horribly. The second one fell on the ground, and the sharp curves of electricity which were supposed to propel it instead misfired and tore into flesh. The smoking glove and deep scars in the uniform and, possibly the skin, indicated the severity of its impact.

Seven was by Amyna in an instant, hand reaching for the human's white-haired head. However, it seemed that the Imperial soldier had an answer to that.

The lightning appeared again in even more intensively, assaulting Seven's eyes not only with blinding light, but also with a distinct smell of ozone. The electric field burst, electrocuting everything on its path. It did not strike Seven, though.

Amyna had only a split second to see another lightning field, same as hers, encapsulating her adversary's rapidly moving body and sliding through her own attacks as if they did not exist.

The blue-eyed soldier was hit in the head, once, lightly. Physically it felt almost like a friendly tap. The electric surge behind it, however, caused her to involuntarily clench her jaw. Her body jerked forcefully as her vision filled with a white more brilliant than a dozen suns. The unnatural lightning around her disappeared as she lost control over her Tagma flow.

There was no pain or awareness. It all came back to her as she lay on the ground, heart hammering against her chest, breathing shallowly. Fighting for every breath, she looked up into the faceless helmet of the enemy who had defeated her. Her still-spasming hands made their way beneath her cloak to defend herself. She knew it would be futile.

An immaterial force lifted her from the ground, spreading out her hands and keping legs pinned together.

"Please, don't do that," said the mysterious adversary. The clearly- feminine voice was a tad distorted by the helmet.

"Please"- the words echoed through Amyna's mind. Who poses polite requests during combat? Somebody who is utterly stupid- or someone utterly in control?

Amyna used all her will to concentrate and attempt to break free from the holding field.

She was tapped once more. This time, the shock she received was gentler, but it was still enough to make her howl in pain as her focus broke completely and she felt the full volume of pain.

"I do not wish to harm you further. Please, stop resisting," the enemy said.

Amyna had a feeling she had heard this voice before. That time her jaw clenched so hard she felt the tip of one of her teeth breaking.

Yet, despite the polite request, her captor's hand shot to her neck. Amyna shut her eyes, sensing the tingle on her exposed skin where she knew the tips of the metal-clad fingers were. The pricking was from the electricity which the person in front of her could call upon at any moment. The captor was only keeping it docile at the moment.

When an eerie silence followed, Amyna opened her tired eyes to see what had occurred to stop the finishing blow.

The blue-scaled dragon who had been helping her came back. One of his legs was lifted, hovering before her enemy's head. The Nadder stood on one leg, motionless. He would not follow through, as it would mean death of the one he was protecting. He was merely awaiting Amyna's instructions.

"Order him to stay down," the red-eyed woman said in a stoic voice.

Amyna actually smiled in a crooked, cruel way. She kept her eyes locked at the place where other set of eyes were.

"Kill her."

The Nadder roared as he pirouetted and his leg slashed through the air in a death-dealing blow.

Amyna fell to the ground, released and barely moving. The fight continued outside her vision as she only saw the dark, starless sky. Something nudged side of her head gently and whimpered. She looked to her side, seeing a terrified Melleth, his yellow snout nuzzling her check and licking, prompting his master to move.

"Go away, little one," Amyna said, trying to push the hatchling away. It only had the opposite effect; the dragon nuzzled with more force, whimpering pitifully all the while. On an instinct, he waddled to her hand and lifted it with his snout. He snuggled beneath it, seeking comfort and protection in it, as a child would.

"Go. Mom needs to be alone," she spoke, now hearing that her voice started breaking.

There was a shout from somewhere in the field.

"Stop!"

It was loud, clear, and the message was in Amyna's voice. It took a moment for the Imperial warrior to register that it was not she who had said that.

The sounds of battle ceased immediately.

"Follow me," the same voice said again. It was her voice!

Bewildered, she tried to understand the situation. Unable to lift her head, she rolled her eyeballs as down as possible. Melleth started hissing as the footsteps neared. Too soon, a dark human silhouette loomed over her useless body.

Amyna had faced death many times before, until the thought of her own demise became as natural as breathing. Fear for one's self became obsolete, even acceptable. However, there was a fear she could never eliminat: fear for others' wellbeing. Years of education and training, the same mantra repeated over and over again. Your companions might die at any moment, get used to it, don't dwell too much on it. Accept it and move on.

She remembered each and every soldier who had died under her watch; it hurt. Then there were the more personal bonds she had shared with a few people from her past squad, and the family who she would never see again. She remembered Kyndal and the little dragon who now left the protectiveness of her hand and lunged his tiny, inadequate body at the person before her.

The dark, armoured hand closed around his throat before anyone else could react.

Amyna did not hear the crunching sound of a spine being forced just to the breaking point She could not even hear the short yelp of pain. Melleth waggled his body with ferocity, trying to bite and scratch anything he could reach.

Even though the olive-skinned Imperial warrior still could not see the eyes looking down at her, she knew her enemy looked down at her, and in that gaze was a question, a proposal.

Every organism capable of generating Tagma protected itself from direct intervention by others. Amyna naturally had such a field around her body; it was like her body itself. As long as she was conscious, she could not be affected easily. A forceful breakthrough would result in injuries.

Therefore, the silent proposal was simple: Amyna could let herself be captured peacefully, and the little dragon would not get hurt.

It went all against her training and experience. She should have used all of her remaining concentration to kill herself and Melleth. All it would take was a bit of strain, a bit of pain and a little pulse of energy to the brain. Her young companion could not protect himself like she could. He was vulnerable, delicate. All she needed was to concentrate briefly, just as she had many times before.

Melleth's struggling weakened and instead of attacking, he tried to free himself. Futile, he started to whimper.

It was Amyna's weakness. She would relent, and it seemed that the adversary knew that, standing in grim silence.

She let go of all her defences, which brought pain and tiredness back, and they attacked her with vengeance. She was not knocked out immediately, though.

With a careful movement, the soldier grabbed the helmet's top, twisted it and removed it from the head.

A pair of strangest, red eyes looked down at her. The same eyes she had seen before.

"Thank you," she heard. The voice was assuring, promising. She had heard such voices before. Usually they were lying and manipulating; however, this time it was different.

This time she believed.

It was an understatement to call the present situation a mess. There were no words in any language Seven knew to describe how horribly wrong everything had gone- or to depict the dread she felt.

Fear of the unknown: maybe that was what it was.

She regarded the now-unconscious bodies of the woman and the dragon and then turned her eyes to the village. Processing an antidote for its population had to wait. Finding the second-born was the utmost priority. Finding and silencing it.

She had a perfect tool for that; she only needed time to use it.

Seven did not believe in determinism; however, at moments like this, she suspected that she did have bad luck in her life. Her existence up to now had definitely been on the bad side.

She desperately needed Akil.

She knew the game plan: secure the prisoners, synthesise the antidote, use it on Aeon, make him use Akil to find the second-born. She only needed a bit of time - and why of all things- why Hiccup?

Why was a being like her, who on every account could be considered a God, dependent on a human's help?

Reality came back to Hiccup as quickly as he had been ripped away from it. He took a sharp intake of air with an involuntary gasp Tossing his head from side to side, looking around his surroundings, dreadfully afraid of being attacked. The almost absolute lack of light made it hard for him to decide anything.

The air was filled with dangerous sulphur and a dangerous something! There was something, something there, he felt it with every particle of his being. He stood up only to fall again, the reality reminding him that he was without a leg. He did not feel pain Instead, he was filled with dread. He started crawling away. If he was indeed moving away from that something, it did not matter. As long as he moved, it was enough.

He did not remember much from his trip around the complex; he still had a memory of following the sweet voice, sensation or mirage. It did not have shape, but it had everything he wanted. He had followed the promise of meeting his mother, alive and well. It all had made sense at that time. Everything had seemed perfect. He had understood his mistake in the last split second before he disappeared together with Toothless.

No, that's not Toothless, he needlessly reminded himself.

He wanted to see the Fury, physically touch him, see for himself that Toothless was alive and still his friend. He wanted to know that the red-eyed woman with the beautiful, perfect lips had lied. Braedan had said Hiccup was a pawn, he was bound to be manipulated, deceived.

He was not, not at al! He wanted to believe that.

He ceased to move as he saw what the light he crept to really was.

High in the air, a blue, bright orb with lightning captured in it, thrashed against its invisible prison. It hovered silently. Hiccup crawled on the stone floor under it, finally able to discern some details of where he was. He neared the end of the ring of light the orb was emitting onto the floor, and his hand plunged into darkness. He shouted in pain and jerked it back. He looked at his palm as blood begun trickling from the cut.

Heaving, he leaned and slowly plunged his hand once more into nothingness to weave his way more carefully. Almost immediately, he found something sharp and pointy there. His hand grabbed it to keep a hold of it as he moved, only to find that the item moved with an empty-sounding cling. He tested it by trying to lift it and, to his surprise, it moved.

Slowly, he lifted the object into the dim neon light. It had a smooth surface, shadows lingering where parts of it had been broken. The sockets of the skull Hiccup was now clutching still contained the once-living creature's eyes.

He let the skull go with a frightened shout. The narrow, two-horned draconic skull seemed to laugh at him with its upper jaw as it bounced onto the hard ground

He heard bones breaking in front of him. He never had heard such a cracking sound before, but he knew what it meant. The sound repeated; the dry crunch snapped violently, followed by sickening silence. Out in the darkness, something neared, something making its way through the bones, crushing them as it moved.

Hiccup fell on his back, scooting his body away, crablike, as fast as he could from what was coming. He knew what it was, and he knew that he was too slow to escape it.

At the edge of the light-circle, he watched helplessly as the cracking thuds came closer, now echoing loudly. The being sounded massive. The heavy steps were now right at the edge of his vision. Hiccup stilled his breath as he prepared himself to see what brought him here. He sensed a lonely droplet of sweat travelling down from his forehead.

He shook as footfalls thundered and pieces of bones flew into the illuminated are, rolling and sliding on the smooth stone.

Hiccup waited for a few, pregnant seconds.

Nothing came from the front.

Instead, hot breath ruffled his hair from behind.

He lunged forward to escape, although he did not travel far. Stopped in mid-air by a supernatural grip, he was slowly turned back to the darkness. The contours of an oval head appeared, blending perfectly with the dark environment. The creature had no eyes, or so Hiccup thought for a moment. As the head approached the light, though, he could see the two enormous eyes looking into his own. The trembling teenager could not discern pupils, he noticed. These eyes were dull; instead of shining and reflecting light as dragon eyes should, they were matte, almost as if they absorbed light. It made the eyes appear black.

Aside from the eyes, this creature looked in every way like Toothless, with the same scaled body, the same ear-antennas circling the head, spines on the back and enormous wings on the sides.

However, it was not Toothless.

It simply could not be!

The youth raised his hand, not because he wanted, but because he was forced to. He was lifted into the air, moved closer until his palm hovered by the dragon's snout. The strange being pressed its nose to his palm firmly, making him cry abruptly in pain.

The Fury took deep breaths, drawing the scent of his blood-spattered hand inside.

Hiccup watched it silently; he could speak and, as far as his tell, his mind had not been affected by anything. Still, he remained passive. There was no other option.

The entity removed its snout from Hiccup's palm, without even the slightest trail of emotion or recognition. Hiccup was lowered back to the ground and placed on it, gently. The being gazed at the crippled youth where he sprawled out, half lying, half sitting- and totally dumbfounded.

Hiccup licked his dry lips, tasting the metallic tang of what surely was dried blood that had leaked from his blood down the lower half of his face. He now felt the skin being stretched on his cheeks and around the eyes; he did not want to pay much attention to that disturbing detail. It was just too horrifying to consider how the creature was doing this to him!

"W-what do you want?" He asked in a shaking voice.

The not-Toothless tilted its head and its maw opened, a bluish glow growing in intensity from inside it. A light- bolt came out, spherical and same in size as the one overhead providing limited luminescence. It drifted up to join the other glowing ball.

Then the black dragon created another orb, and another, all orbs grouping together. Hiccup covered his eyes as the light became blinding. The plasma-bolts then shot outwards, scattering away from each other. They soon seemed like small points in the distance. This area area must have been enormous, Hiccup noticed as he looked from beneath his shielding-hand. The light erupted from above, veiling the whole area in a soft azure hue.

Tentatively, the youth dropped his guard, since no attack followed the orbs. He now saw the grey, matte eyes, so different from the bright dragon-green he was used to.

A crazy thought entered his mind. Maybe- just maybe- Toothless was still in there!

Hiccup huffed, collecting his thoughts, and kept his gaze with renewed determination. He had let the fear take control of him: of course was Toothless there! It was Toothless,still, but somehow changed.

"Bud...is that..that you?" Hiccup asked in a soft voice. He leaned forward slowly, as if some terrible weight pressed on his whole body.

"Not-Toothless" stared back. His head jerked upwards and cocked slightly. The blue light above immediately changed its colour to white.

Hiccup shielded his eyes again as he was blinded for a moment with the sudden change.

The dragon now stood right in front of him, appearing calm, enormous. Terrifying - and yet curious.

"What happened to you?" Hiccup asked the empty, light-grey eyes.

After a short pause, Hiccup used his hand to wipe the small blood stain left on the tip of the Fury's nose. The dragon closed his eyes at the touch. The boy gave a small smile at this usual reaction he had received from such a nose touch in the past. Still, Hiccup had to face the reality. It was one of the biggest lessons he had learned since he had downed the beast in front of him. The lesson of who he, Hiccup, really was. He still did not completely, know but his experiences with the dragon had given him a glimpse into a new world of meaning. Of what dragons were. He still had no idea, although he was open to the new possibilities, more accepting and broad-minded than ever before.

He looked up and to his sides. He saw now that was in a cave, an enormous cave where the ceiling was so high he could barely discern any details, only that the stone appeared to have veinlike patterns in it. The ceiling looked beautiful.

He gazed into the alien eyes of the blue-black dragon and then turned his head backwards. He now saw what had injured his hand. He saw bones, thousands upon thousands of them, piling up one on another. Ribs, skulls, horns... broken, shattered and forgotten.

This was an ivory sea of death. Hiccup took in the vista impassively, absorbing everything he saw, every detail. He noticed the large gashes in the bigger bones, unmistakeable proof of giant fangs which had gouged them. He knew now what the purpose of this grotesque and ghastly display was.

Yes, he knew now had to face the reality.

He looked back into the grey eyes of a monster. His face hardened and his green eyes pupils shone with determination.

"Why did you bring me here...," he kept his gaze level," ...Red Death?"

AN: This is where story starts to touch its "weird" area therefore I need your input about this chapter! Enjoy and review! Laters!