I'm back, sorry for the wait. A more detailed explanation at the end
Not quite the traditional length, but these bridging chapters are so much duller to write.
Chapter 9: A clue, A hope, a touch of despair.
Thirteen days had passed since the meeting with the council. Nine days in which Astrid had more or less became familiar with the role of acting chief. It was nine gruesome days: running across the village, solving problems big and small during the day, going over all the paperwork, planning tomorrow's patrols at night, and so much more. After that faithful meeting, at noon, when she had cool off, she gathered the whole village and told them everything that she told the council previously. And now, as acting chief for the whole village, she realized how hard of a task it was, the peer pressure of living up the expectation of a chief, the weight of responsibility. Now that she had a taste of it, she realized how tired Hiccup must have been without someone there to help him: having to be the next in line of Stoick the Vast, one of the best chief Berk, the Archipelago has ever met was not a small task. Yet, Hiccup put on a brave face and dealt with his responsibilities. And I tried to run away from mine she thought, the guilt of not being there for him aggravating itself by the day, the anger for her cowardice burning brighter by the night. But this, she isn't going to run away. She will soldier through it, like a Hofferson.
It was currently just after lunch. After grabbing a quick meal, Astrid went into the woods and started her daily training. This was her moment, just her, her feelings, her axe, and trees. Whacking her anger and guilt away in the trees. What she lacked in time, she compensated it for intensity: she was soon covered in a thin layer of sweat, the muscle in her arm starting to strain. But she shrugged the feeling off and went again against the poor tree. Lost in the moment, she didn't hear footsteps approaching. Startled by someone clearing his throat, Astrid quickly spun around and threw her axe. Fortunately, her exhaustion made the throw less powerful than usual, which allowed the Viking dodge away.
"Astrid, it's me." The blond Viking recognized the voice of Fishleg. The husky Viking slowly raised himself from the ground and handed her the axe.
"What do you want, Fishleg" Astrid replied, painting. Now she felt the pain in her muscle, coming into her arms wave after wave, and her grip started to loosen.
"You should stop training yourself so hard, you don't want to overwork yourself," Fishleg said in concern. But to her, it just sounded like she's weak.
"Then how are we going to get Hiccup back?" Astrid hissed "You saw how strong the Headless are, we aren't going to stand a chance if we don't at least match them in battle skill." She raised her axe "You know what?"
"What?" Asked Fishleg with infinite precaution, not wanting to face more wrath of blonde shieldmaiden.
"Remember when Tyrad, Grim, whatever, that yak dung told us that the bar for a Headless warrior is to at least fend of six Viking at once?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think he lied on that part," Astrid said heavily.
"Well, just don't overwork yourself, you aren't going to be much of a help if you feel down from exhaustion." This time, Fishleg stood his ground and held the fiery gaze of Astrid.
The blond Viking girl opened her mouth to replied sharply, but Fishleg's words sounded awfully familiar. I said the same thing to Hiccup. She thought, and the only words that fell from her lips were.
"Fine, but what did you come here in the first place?"
"Right" The blond Viking boy replied, "Your father is looking for you, and it's urgent."
\/—•—\/
Astrid dismounted Stormfly and walked into her house after directing her dragon to have some rest. The blue Nadder squawked at the frown on her rider's face.
"I'll be fine Stormfly, just get some rest."
Astrid opened the door on to her house and found her father, Holden Hofferson, seated at the table, a big, old-looking book opened in front of him. The older Viking gestured her to come closer. Astrid pulled a chair and sat next to her father.
"You wanted to see me, dad?" she asked
"yes, dear, as much I hate to say 'I have a good new and a bad new, which one do you want to hear first?' I regret to not be able to because I have one bad new and something way worse." Holden said in a deep voice.
"Let's start with the worse one."
"Alright" Holden sighed, "But first, what is our family motto?" he asked
"Strength through honor Astrid replied. Every time she heard, read, or said these three words, it always filled her with a sense of pride and responsibility. But this time, the taste was unsettling. Holden nodded before turning the big book, which was actually the Hofferson's family history, to one specific page: the one where a dried out, abstract figures made out of straight lines was sat above a worn-out clan crest, theirs. Both were made out of blood, now a faded brown under the action of time. It was the same page Astrid stumbled upon. Her heart clenched; her throat tightened when her fear was confirmed.
"I already know about this, father," she said. The older Viking raised a surprised eyebrow, "Is it true that we…?" she continued
"Yes, we do" Holden interrupted with a stern voice. "Does Hiccup know about that?"
"Not yet."
"Why didn't you tell him?"
Astrid bit her lips, trying to figure out why she has, once more, kept something important from Hiccup.
"Because I was afraid, he will do something stupid" she answered.
"Are you going to tell him?" Her father asked again
"I don't know. I don't think I can" She asked, "Should I?"
"You are the general and his betrothed, you are the one who has to make this choice. But you know that you will have to honor it when they call." Astrid nodded reluctantly, while Holden pointed to the writing below the page. "Because you are, for now, I hope, the last in the bloodline. Even though I wish this change very soon with that Haddock boy." Holden tried to cheer out the sullen mood a little.
The last comment made Astrid blush, trying to clear her mind of the forbidden yet inviting scene, added.
"And what the 'good news'?" she gestured with her finger.
Holden flipped a couple of pages to end up on a flat, smooth triangular-shaped dragon head. Astrid eye opened in bewilderment. Before, she didn't know what this dragon was and didn't pay much attention, but now, on it was drawn a Night Fury head.
"What does this mean." Astrid pointed to the worn-out writing that lied below the dragon head.
For the courageous, when your kin stop the senseless murder
Bring a piece of the night to his different brother
Follow his lead to the stone, lit it with the living fire
If seek me you wish, state your adage, and I shall come.
"This, Holden said, is maybe your way to get Hiccup back. My grandfather came back from an expedition, and brought this same eddur with him."
"What did he do?" Astrid asked?
"I have long forgotten the details, but it seemed like that he helped an elusive Viking that was named the Messenger, a forgotten legend. It was rumored that he was the most formidable warrior that ever walked this Earth. The most drunken of Vikings claim that he wiped half of Helheim's army on his own. Others say that he conquered Valhalla before being stroke down by Odin himself. But all this was mere rumors that circulated during the time of my grandfather. Until the day he finds him and receives this. He distinctly told us to only use this chance in the most extreme emergency. The clan never used it, until now, where I pass this privilege onto you."
"Me?" Astrid said in shock "But…"
"Dear," her father cut her off, "The Headless are back, Hiccup, our chief, is captured, not because he couldn't fight them off, but because he was beaten in strategy. Outsmarted. If this doesn't apply for an emergency, I don't know what would."
Astrid was out of words. Tears started beaming from her eyes for an unknown reason. Yet, she forced them back in before grabbing a piece of the garment laying around and a pen, and carefully copied the poem. She pocketed the poem and turn around. Exiting the door, she said out loud, "I'm going to find Fishleg, maybe he can help." And down low. "Also, you Hiccup, whatever it takes."
•—0—•
Two blond hairs were leaned over a piece of paper.
"You got anything? Fishleg?"
"I don't know, there must be something else. I mean, this is so confusing!" Fishleg responded, "There must be something else."
"Yeah, A Night Fury head," Astrid responded bitterly.
Fishleg blinked a few times. "you couldn't say that earlier?" but meeting the fire in Astrid's cold eyes, the husky Viking quickly dove back into the poem.
After a while, Fishleg raised a pair of apologetic eyes and said in a bitter tone. "I'm sorry Astrid, I know how much you miss Hiccup, I do too. But this, this is more obscure than the twins babbling."
Suppressing her anger, she grunted before snatching the paper and walking out of her friend's huts. At the doorstep, she said in a forced deep tone: "No you don't"
\/—•—\/
Wandering on the cliffside near the village, Astrid fixated the ocean beneath her, wandering if Hiccup was on the other side of it. So lost in her mind, the young shieldmaiden let the salty wind of the sea dry the tears off her face, and didn't notice the huge, owl-like dragon landing the shore of the forest behind. A tall, elegant woman, with a slither of white hair walked to her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"What's wrong Astrid, everyone in the village looked like they saw the ghost of Odin, and everyone told me to find you."
Astrid jumped at the sound of the gentle voice. She knew to whom it belonged, but this time, it sounded like the sweetest of danger. She wanted to bash off the hand on her shoulder and run away, but something deeper inside her kept her in place. Taking a deep breath, Astrid turned around and met the worried look of Valka, worries directed at her. The older Viking smiled slightly and spoke in that same, gentle tone:
"Talk to me dear" While pulling the young girl into a tight hug.
Head burrowed in Valka's embrace; Astrid told Hiccup's mother everything that happened. When she finished, Astrid said in an almost broken voice: "I failed to protect him."
Valka place a hand on Astrid's cheek and said. "No dear, you don't. He chose this deal to protect you. All of you. And there was no other way, at least, in his eyes."
"There was" Astrid responded, "I could have endured the whipping."
Valka laughed slightly "Dear, haven't you realized that he will rather spend eternity in Helheim than seeing a single hair missing on your head."
Astrid's eyes widened in surprise. "They used me against him." She almost shouted, before her voice broken down again. "I'm his biggest weakness."
"And his biggest strength." Valka responded, "So, I'm sure you have a plan to get him back."
"Yeah," Astrid said hesitantly. She pulled out the copied eddur and showed it to Valka. After reading it pensively, the older Viking said
"I don't know dear. But if you're searching for him, let him guide you."
Astrid nodded pensively. Before staring back out to the ocean. An idea suddenly sprung into her head. She looked back at the sheet of parchment, almost crumpled by the force of her grip, stared back at the horizon, before running back into the village, determination carrying her footsteps.
\/—•—\/
Across an ocean, a tall, lanky figure was staring too at across the horizon, searching for something. The salty wind of the sea brushed gently his auburn hair, but the mask seated on his face denied his skin of the pleasure. A sleek, black dragon was laying beside him, head rested on his front paws, searching for the same thing as his friend. A blue nightmare landed beside them, and big, burly Viking sporting fur and two single-headed axes sling across his waists jumped down from the beast, padded it gently before saying.
"I knew I will find you here. Eir said that the first expedition is in two days. Of course, you're in leading position."
Bitter washed over Hiccup's face. During his time spent on this island, good and bad things happened, by masses.
The Viking that was talking to him was named Gunhar and was his sparring partner within the training session where Eir and Magnus were the teachers. Only the best could train with them, Hiccup being an exception, but he quickly caught up with the rest of the group, with Eir and Magnus specially crafting a technique for him, using his prosthetic as a weapon.
Also, he used the well-furnished and advanced forge on the island to make some upgrades to his equipment. He separated the ignition and the extension of the blade on Inferno, he changed the grip and the weight of the weapon to match his new strength. And now, the other, apart from dispensing Zippleback gas, now can be eject on Nadder spine using the same compressed ignition of Nightmare's gel. After a few highly damaging, but thankfully not so loud tests, the ejected spine was in equal strength to the one from the real dragon. "A not so bad secret weapon for desperate situations," He thought to himself while falling backward because he tried to pull out the Nadder spine from the wall. The same contraction could also be found on his right forearm, concealed next to a hidden dagger dispenser, inspiration he got from his encounters with Johann. If that was one thing that the Headless taught him, is that in combat, there was no place for feeling. Compassion, wanting to spare the enemies, good, but after he has been neutralized. Lastly, he had also weaponized his prosthetic, now, the iron end has been sharpened and could be used as a blade. Hiccup knew that all this attire clashed with his former image of a peacekeeper, but the encounter with Drago and his army and the Headless tribe made him realized that there was more than one way to keep the peace.
But the worse of everything has its element right beside him. That Viking has bonded with a dragon. I have taught them how to bond with dragons. Indeed, Hiccup was been inevitably tasked to showcase his dragon taming skills and to teach everyone in the session how to train his own dragon.
"Hiccup?" Gunhar said again. His words snapped Hiccup out of his trance.
"Yeah, the expedition, I know, to the Tordalar tribe" Hiccup answered coldly, a tone which Gunhar was used to.
"Just, why the mask? It's not like you have to hide your face. And the wind is nice up here. Also dinner is serving"
"It just feels too much to somewhere I longed to be." Hiccup replied.
Gunhar just shrugged off the answer, mounted the Nadder, and took off. Meanwhile, Hiccup was standing immobile, the leather of his mask soaking up the tears while his mind traveled across savage seas, to a blonde figure standing near a blue and Nadder, wondering if she was doing the same.
I have protected my own, but at what cost? Hiccup though, being separated from home was already torturing enough, but now knowing that the whole Archipelago was going to fall under Headless conquests. And then what is preventing them from conquering Berk as well? Screaming silently in his own mind, Hiccup turned around and walked towards the center of the island, more determined than ever to escape this Helheim of a tribe-He knew how to get off this island-the main problem was to be free from the oath, he needs to destroy the parchment, but it was securely held in a place unknown to him- regroup with his friends on Berk and wipe out this whole trib. If it ends in a bloodbath, then so be it.
\/—•—\/
After grabbing a quick bite to eat, Hiccup crept back to the forge again. He opened the door, cringing at the squeaking of the old hinges. After making sure no one was inside, he closed up the window and lit up Inferno. The pale orange light offered just enough luminosity to see what he came for. Deep down, on a decaying shelf, stood a pile of shining white, almost pale ingot. His blacksmith's eyes recognized it as something he was searching for quite some time, to make a very special gift. So, bits by bits, he has been stealing this precious metal from the forge, as long with a couple of blacksmithing books that he had yet the chance to look and hiding them under a floorboard of his hut. Might as well take everything beneficial. After grabbing an ingot, he went back to the main room.
"Why do you need this metal?" A voice startled the auburn Viking. He jumped and dropped the ingot. But the other Viking caught it before it touched the ground. Raising his sword, Hiccup saw the familiar face of Tyrad staring at him, his dagger in one hand, the other with the ingot placed in a rug. The Headless placed the ingot on the table.
" Euh…" Hiccup hesitated, he needed an excuse, and fast, "I was building something, and it kept breaking because the metal wasn't strong enough. So, I went back there and found this, and thought it might work."
"Do you know what this is right?" Tyrad asked again staring intently, straight through Hiccup's leather mask.
"Yes" Hiccup admitted, he couldn't be caught stealing. The punishments were harsh, he didn't know what Tyrad could do, or this act could break his oath and put all Berk at peril.
"Then you should know that this metal shouldn't be used to build prototypes."
"Right, I'm sorry, I'll put it back." Hiccup grabbed the ingot at Tyrad's nod, glad that his blacksmithing skill has got a bit of a reputation on the island, and backed up his story. Taking a deep breath, he went back to face the Headless and found him polishing his weapon with the rag, running it hard up and down the blade.
"So, tell me what you were building," Tyrad asked again
Hiccup cursed inwardly at the suspicion of the other Viking, but at the same time, was glad that he had actually something to show. He pulled out a sketch from his chest pocket and laid it out in front of them.
"This is something I called the Stingers." Hiccup explained. On the paper was the drawing of a spherical object with Nadder spines sticking out of it. "The idea is to used it to clear an enclosed space. The ignition of the compressed monstrous nightmare saliva will create enough pressure to ejects the spines with enough force to pierce armor."
Looking at the drawing, Tyrad nodded. "Interesting, but why do you need such a strong metal?"
"To make it reusable, instead of having to forge a new one, you can just pick it up and refilled it again."
Tyrad's eyes lit up at the answer. It was ingenious, the young chief had some impressive smithing knowledge and skills.
"Well done. I will authorize you to use one and only one ingot to test this invention of yours, but you will have to find a substitute. It's too precious to be wasted on throwables like this. You may want to check some books we have here." Tyrad said.
"Yes." Hiccup answered, glad he fooled the Headless and went back to grab the ingot. When he got back, he saw Tyrad exanimating his weapon, satisfied that the blade gloomed slightly under the torchlight, the Headless dropped the rag he used to ran his weapon through and headed out.
"You should take some rest; the next expedition is near." Tyrad said before exiting.
"I know." Hiccup responded, faking the study of his project."
Once the door of the forge was closed, out of curiosity, Hiccup picked up the rag Tyrad used and approached it to the torch. The aspect of it intrigued him for a bit: it was intact, as if no sharp blade had traveled across it. But Hiccup didn't pay much attention, the so-called expedition was taking too much of his mind. Concealing the ingot underneath his suit, he headed out the forge as well, dreading the days to come.
All right, I moved half-way across the world to further my studies, so new country, new school for me. Plus, living alone can take up much of your free time. But now that I am on vacation for two weeks, and had gotten into the rhythm, I can start to update some more.
I will finish this book. The whole arc is already thought through. I just need to take care of the details and write them.
If you want a rough progression marge, we are roughly 45% through the plot.
Thank you for reading my work.
See you at the next shared memory.
Forg3t.