Johann POV

On a rocky shore, a dark haired baby lay motionless. That is until said baby struggles for her first breath.

It's ironic that this baby should take her first breath on an island not meant to support life, given the scarce vegetation and wildlife.

Because of this severe lack of life, the people who reside here survive mostly on trade, and the only trader who is foolhardy enough to dare to venture to these unforgiving shores is…..

"Johann, what do you have for me today?" Came Alvin's gravelly voice.

"I come bearing interesting news."

"Oh?"

"Yes, well I was in Berk just last week, and you will never guess what I saw."

"Johann, you know I hate guessing games." Alvin sneered.

"Oh, yes." Johann took a deliberate yet timid step back from the Outcast Chief. He nervously started again. "Well, I saw the little Berserker hier exploring their boats, Oswald nor Alva anywhere in sight."

Alvin raised a solitary brow. "You expect me to be impressed Johann? You'll have to do better than that." Alvin growled fingers sliding up his sword's hilt.

"No wait! That's not all! The little Berserker fell off the top of a mast, and rushed to catch him. That's not all though" Johann added at Alvin's impatient grunt. "Stoick even hugged him and ruffled his hair before urging him to go play somewhere else."

"You know Johann that is interesting. I won't be killing you today."

Johann's breath audibly caught in his throat and he took another dramatic step back. When he averted his alarmed gaze beyond Alvin, his eyes landed on a small,writhing bundle of furs laying a few yards from the dock down the beach.

"Hey, what's that?" Johann asked without waiting for Alvin's response, for he sprinted the few yards down the beach. If he had looked behind him, he would have known Alvin was following him. It's almost eerie how silently the Outcast Chief can move, especially through sand that is closer to gravel.

When Johann reached the writhing bundle and bent to pick her up Alvin beat him to it. Johann leapt back, alarmed by Alvin's reappearance.

"You should know by now, Johann, anything that lands on my island is my property." Alvin lifted the soaked baby girl above the trader's head to taunt him.

"But sir, that's a baby and- wait, hold her still. She looks like someone important. Those eyes…"

"You better share Johann." Alvin said, shaking the baby.

"Sir, I wouldn't do that." Alvin raised a challenging brow. "Okay, okay. I get the picture." Johann spluttered frantically. "That baby..is Oswald's."

"Oswald the Agreeable?" Alvin laughed maniacally. "Now I have leverage with the Berserker's. You're a genius Johann. All I need is the other Berserker hier." Alvin seemed to think on something. "I'll just take him from Stoick."

"Good strategy sir."

"Savage, where are you!?" Alvin bellowed.

As if Savage was listening from directly beneath the top most layer of rock that made up all of Outcast Island, he appeared next to Johann scant of breath, like he literally just tunneled out of the rock.

"Take this baby to the healer."

"Sir, you're not getting sentimental, are you?"

"Of course not, you fool. This baby is the key to ruling the entire barbaric archipelago, starting with Berserker Island."

Embla POV

When Savage barged into my house, it came as quite a shock.

The Outcasts, or to be specific Alvin, keeps me here not just for my skill as a healer, but as a medium and dragon whisperer, as they call it. I just call it being kind. It is what makes me on outcast among outcasts

But, I digress. As I was saying, it was more than a bit of a shock for Savage to pay me such an abrupt visit, not just for the reason stated above, but for the sheer fact he was carrying a little dark haired baby.

Once I recovered from the initial shock, I smirked beneath my veil of dark hair, obscuring half my face. "Yours?"

"Shut up! Alvin orders you to make this baby healthy."

"Well, what's wrong with her?"

"How should I know? That's your job." Then Savage left, slamming the door in the process, jarring the baby awake. Great.

I remember a lullaby I sang to my own daughter, before a crude and violent Outcast-not Alvin; shockingly he's above infanticide-snapped her neck, but not before carving out her heart with a red-hot blade to present to his leader. Alvin executed the man thankfully, because he was disgusted. Alvin even had the decency to tell me the reason for that man's vile actions. His reasoning was that the "dragon whispering gift" is freaky and didn't want it passed on. As poor compensation I was gifted with a baby Razorwhip, whom I named Windshear. I love Windshear, but a dragon can't replace my daughter.

Do I dare sing a single word to a song I haven't even so much as hummed in half a year? Am I brave enough?

As I am pondering this, Windshear nudges my free hand and suddenly I know what I have to do. I have to get this baby off this island. Alvin will only use her as he had done to me.

The baby's cries are gathering in strength. I have to try. On borrowed strength and courage I begin to sing the song I keep repressed in my memories.

"The sky is dark, and the hills are white,

As the Storm King speeds from the north tonight

And this is the song The Storm King sings,

As over the world his cloak he flings.

Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep

He rustles his wings and gruffly sings,

Sleep, little one, sleep"

The baby...Heather fell asleep. Her name came to me like a whisper in my ear.

I listen to her abnormal breathing, then place her gently on the table so as not to wake her after singing that lullaby. Then I pressed gently on her chest with a finger and a small amount of seawater dribbled out the sides of her mouth. Her breathing becomes steadier after that. Then I place a hand on her forehead and pull it back immediately.

I opened my cupboard and pulled out a jar of a vile smelling cream made with the sap of a Loki tree and a flower that grows only in the ice of Glacier Island. I dab a small amount of the cream on Heather's forehead. As expected she is instantly cooler to the touch.

I then remove her soaked fur and check for scratches or bruises but shockingly find none. I throw her soaked wrappings into a corner, then pull out a crate of baby clothes I never dared to peek at for half a year. Not only because of the beautiful and sad memories they conjure, but for the fact that they are physically painful to touch. I now feel the pain my daughter felt on the day of her murder. Much like her murder the pain is slow and without mercy.

That's exactly the pain I felt as I sifted through the only remaining memories of my baby girl.

I find a warm, grey baby blanket and swaddle Heather in it, despite my shaking hands.

After placing Heather back on the table, I collapse in my chair very exhausted, but I can't go to sleep. Not yet.

I beckon Windshear to my side and reach for a sheet of parchment and my charcoal pen.

The note is simple, not many words needed to convey the importance. The urgency.

I roll up the parchment and use a bit of twine to tie around Windshear's leg, holding the note steady in the coming journey across the sea.

"Windshear, please take Heather far away from this place. Never return here. Do you understand?"

Windshear's unwavering green gaze was answer enough for me.

By now it is nightfall which is what I was counting on. "Go." One simple word is needed and Windshear and Heather are gone from this place of desolation.

Even as Windshear disappears into the silvery moonlight, her green gaze is my final beautiful sight on this mortal coil.

I am roughly yanked backwards, and spun roughly around. Before my vision goes dark forever, I catch one final sight of the man who has kept me alive, compensated me, used me, and killed me. Alvin the Treacherous.

Alvin POV

"Johann, deliver this letter to Mildew. Tell him to leave it in Gobber's forge.

"Will do. One question though. Which one is Mildew?"

"Sir?" Savage nudged Alvin and pointed into the night sky, only illuminated by a crescent moon. There is a silver dot gaining altitude. Then an acid green eye was revealed to Alvin, and an oddly shaped, yet familiar bundle clutched in the dragon's claws.

"Razorwhip." Alvin hissed.

Alvin decided it has been a long time since he has visited Embla. He turned without saying a word to Johann or Savage and marched up the rocky path to the healer's house, sword gripped tight in his fist.

Tonight Embla dies a traitor to the Outcasts.