Nameless

Viggo donned his scale-cloak and strolled up to zone one. The first two rounds of eggs had not produced many offspring. Far too many eggs died or were accidentally crushed. It was likely that the females were inexperienced or that dragons were terrible parents. Was the word parents even applicable to dragons, generally? An unimportant question.

He had plans for how to avoid this problem in the future. A gravid female would be restrained, and the eggs taken out of its care as soon as possible. A new cell was being constructed in another cave to hold the eggs and keep them warm and under constant supervision. This would be for everyone's benefit, especially the dragons. The hatchlings would always be accustomed to humans and would therefore be much easier to train. That was in addition to their being far more likely to survive.

He paused, momentarily frozen by an unresolved tension in that line of thought. What were dragons to humans? Useful tools, yes, but were they more? There was no denying what he saw from Shadowwing years ago and what he heard from the dragonriders. He hadn't ever truly trained or tamed Ripper, though he taught him commands and calmer behaviors in certain situations.

He finally arrived at zone one, and the outside guards saluted.

"Sir!" "Sir!"

"Report."

"All good, sir," Ulf answered.

"How long since my brother was up here?"

"Uh... couple days."

He went inside, arrived at the central chamber, and saw the interior guards, Ori and Fenrir, playing maces and talons on the central table. Interested, he glanced at the board and saw an easy winning combination only five moves ahead for Ori, though the guards were certainly oblivious to that.

"Nice board. Looks like a close match."

"Thanks, boss," Ori gruffly said.

"When was Ryker last here for the Spine Fury?"

"Eh, two days ago."

"When was it last fed and watered."

"Dunno," Ori muttered.

"What?"

"Yeah, his orders. No food or drink at all unless he gives it, and he didn't give it any last time, or the time before that, or the next one."

Unacceptable. Limited food to build dependence was the goal. Failing to give it any food would not help it rely on Ryker or trust him.

"Bring me regular rations."

"Uh, but... Ryker's orders," Ori mumbled.

He lay a hand on Ori's shoulder, "Either you did not hear my orders, which makes you a deaf guard; you are not able to understand the orders, which makes you a moron; or you were just mumbling nonsense while on your way to do as you were told, which makes you a normal guard doing his job. Which are you?"

Ori and Fenrir saluted as they departed.

"Be right back, sir!" "One moment, boss!'

Idiots.

On a whim, he carefully turned the board around on the off-chance that Ori and Fenrir would not notice their sides were swapped once they returned. He hoped they were not that nonobservant, since they were guards after all, but it would be a humorous way of learning if they were.

How quickly a game can change just because of overlooking something obvious.

He went over to the Spine Fury's cell, but he frowned when he saw it curled in on itself. It looked thinner than it had been when he bought it.

The poor thing... the troubled asset was not doing well at all. It was clearly suffering far more than the other dragons usually did.

What was that stirring inside? Weakness at the sight of a dragon's pain had not bothered him in the past. So why did it now? There was no need for senseless suffering. Suffering in pursuit of something good was worthwhile, but pointless cruelty was just wasteful. Time would be much better spent building or making something new and better.

"Hey there," he whispered.

The Spine Fury whined and slowly lifted its head to gaze at him. Its eyes were bloodshot and weary, but it didn't look away. What was behind those eyes?

He stepped back from the cell, found a bucket near the barrels of drinking water, filled the bucket, and returned to the cell where the Spine Fury was carefully watching him. He slid the bucket through the gap in the bars. Oddly, the Spine Fury didn't move at all. Its toothless jaws were slightly parted as it glared at him, almost challenging him. Its flickering shadow danced on the cave's wall behind it.

What was it doing? It should be parched and guzzling the offered water. Maybe it thought he would take the water away as soon as it moved toward the water. It obviously didn't believe him because Ryker had been using that method before with it.

He stepped back from the cage, putting several paces between himself and the bars.

The Spine Fury pitifully whined and slunk toward the bucket while glaring at him. He watched until the bucket was apparently emptied. She knocked over empty bucket and nudged it out through the small gap, perhaps giving it back to him. He approached again, retrieved the bucket while cautiously watching the dragon, and went back to the barrel to refill it.

She calmly sat there at the edge of her cage, just staring at him. His head throbbed slightly with his headache, surely from stress. With the bucket filled again, he slid it back inside the cage so she could drink more.

Something about her didn't feel like what he expected. She had not snapped at anyone, was entirely docile and calm, and seemed as intelligent as any of the dragons, but she was also different somehow he couldn't put a finger on.

Did dragons have pride? Even while weak and in the cage, she held herself differently from the others. That was possibly a trait of her unique kind. Was that willfulness a trait that needed to be stomped out? Ryker seemed to think so, hence the drastic measures he was undertaking, though he had gone too far.

She finished drinking and nudged the bucket toward him before curling up where she lay. The guards would probably be back in a few minutes with the fish, so he was willing to wait for their return.

The sooner this dragon accepted the saddle, the better for her. He would make sure she was treated as well as possible. She needed sleep for sure. A weary, delirious dragon could snap and lash out at anyone nearby.

Pacing always helped him think, so he started doing that while waiting for Ori and Fenrir to get back. Her origins were still a mystery, for one. It was possible she had some relation to the Haven dragonriders and the Night Furies, but there was obviously no way to ask her even if she was smart enough. She understood cause and effect, knew to distinguish when she was spoken to, and could treat people differently based on how they treated her, but none of that proved anything.

He glanced at the other nearby cages, and saw that most of the other females were awake and alert, staring at him without making a sound or moving an inch. No growling, snarling, or anything.

That behavior was very curious. None of the other females here were under reduced rations in any way. They were probably curious about her being given more water, since he was not usually here. His presence was a change in the regular routine.

Yes, that was it. No more complex answer was necessary. There was no need to assume anything else.

Light was painful and torturous, but the darkness was more comforting. The flickering, dancing fire the two-legs kept burning outside the trap cast stalking shadows in her trap-cave. The stalking shadows of her own shape danced on the wall behind her, reaching out paws and wings as if to touch her.

She blinked rapidly, trying to force the weariness from her eyes. But her eyes were so heavy-

When was the last time she had slept well? Maybe a pawful of dark-light cycles had passed with the two-legs killing her sleep. Sleep was not so important anyway.

Not only were they waking her up every time she fell asleep, but they were also leaving the water-holding things and fish or meats just outside the trap-cave where she could see but not touch. Only the rotted and tortuous Loud gave her water or fish.

No, there was another that had given her fish and water. Cunning had given her water a dark-light cycle ago, or was it many tens of dark-light cycles ago? Time was hard to know anymore.

Cunning had shown some kindness, probably the first that any two-leg had ever shown. But Cunning was also the two-leg that brought her here to this bad-wrong place.

Why even fight? What was the goal or reason to keep going?

Surviving was a goal. However bad a life-flight was now, it could get better in the future.

It would be easy to get out of this trap. Just wait for the next time the two-legs came here, be submissive, and let them put the carrying-thing on her back. Let Loud sit on her back, claim her as his own kin in a way and life would probably be more comfortable.

Loud probably would not want his thralled kin starving and parched. No, accepting him would get her far more food and water.

The truth was that she was the only one keeping herself in the trap. Give in, submit, and all would get better.

So tempting. Why not give in? All would be easier.

'Only in darkness the light.'

She blinked and looked around, not seeing anyone else in the trap. Obviously, there was no one else there, so why did it feel like she was not alone. The only motion in the cave was the flickering, dancing shadow on the cave-wall.

The shadow moved on the wall, walking forward along the cave-wall until it was directly before her. The shadow stepped away from the cave-wall, sat down, and faced her.

'We are always with you in the dark.'

She glared at the living shadow, completely uncertain what to think of it. Shadows did not have life and could not walk or move on their own. Where had the thought-voice come from?

But the shadow was familiar.

"You again? What even are you?" she gasped.

'We are Nameless.'

"Nameless? What are you doing?"

'We said we would wait for when you need our help and are alone.'

"What can you do?"

'We can show you where power comes from.'

She considered the offer, but she already knew where power grew from. There was no need to have anything to do with this strange false-life.

"I already know."

'Do you?'

"Having a goal that would make the ranges better for all."

Nameless tilted her shadow-head, 'You need a wrong to fight against. Have you such a wrong to take vengeance on?'

Were there any great wrongs she knew of? Her own being in this cave-trap, and all the other kin that had been bending their wings to two-leg Alphas, all of that was wrong.

Wrong for whom? Having thrall-kin helped the two-legs, so this was good for them to have obedient kin to use for whatever their purposes were. But being thralled was not good for the kin.

How could a situation be truly good and truly bad at once? Unless good and bad, right and wrong, were not clear. Did this mean that-

'There is no good. There is no bad. There is only your will and power to act as you want.'

She hung her head and stared at her paws, rolling over one paw to see the healed hurt-mark.

What Nameless said felt very dangerous. Its words meant that there was no greater good than getting power and keeping power over others.

No. Getting power was necessary to be able to change the world for the better. The weak were powerless. Those who did not know they were victims could not change anything.

And she was in a special situation. She could do things which no other kin could, like remind other kin what they were and spark their life-fires hotter to make them want to be free. She could protect them all. That was the great possibility she could attain if-

'You only need reach your potential. We can help.'

She snorted and turned tail on the shadow, staring instead at the other wall. Nameless was there too, which was frustrating and twisted. How could a shadow jump from wall to wall?

"I am strong enough on my own."

'No, you are not. You are refusing power because you are afraid.'

"Leave me alone!" she growled.

Nameless walked along the cave-wall, and jumped behind her, right where her shadow should be.

"Nameless?"

The shadow did not move, so she moved. The shadow moved as she tilted her head or stretched a wing. Only a normal shadow.

Satisfied, she glanced out the trap-mouth to the fire and then back to her shadow, which, thankfully, moved as it should.

Had any of that even happened? What had happened?

I am going thought-twisted... more than usual.

She curled up to return to sleep, if only the two-legs would let her sleep. Maybe going without enough sleep is what had made her thoughts more twisted.

Viggo heard a very heavy thump from outside the headquarters. That could only be one thing, given the time of day.

Ripper wanted to go flying, as he commonly did around sundown. Maybe sundown was the natural time his kind hunted, or maybe he just wanted to stretch his wings in the evening winds.

It was strange that Ripper always wanted him to fly with him. But it was fine, since this was a way to get away from the men, Ryker, and the other work. Further, regular and routine time with Ripper reinforced their… bond?

Not friendship, no, but their mutually beneficial arrangement. He benefited from having flight, and Ripper benefited from being safe in civilization. Still, there was probably something different between him and Ripper compared to all the other dragon-human pairs. None of the other dragons appeared eager for the flight drills.

Not that he was eager for flight either, no. Humans belonged on the ground except when there was need to be in the sky.

He changed into his leather flight-gear, which mostly helped to protect against windburn, locked the office door, and went outside.

Ripper, the saddle hanging from his jaws, patiently sat there, waiting for him. Ripper began thrumming deeply when he arrived.

"Ready for a flight?"

Ripper crouched down and dropped the saddle for him to strap on, which he did. He hopped on Ripper's back, secured himself, and patted Ripper's neck, giving him the signal.

Ripper purr-growled and took flight, soaring over the village and out over the open waters toward the nearest sea-stacks. Ripper glided on the updrafts just offshore, circling around the sea-stacks while looking down at the beaches. That was probably a hunting strategy, though there was nothing to hunt. Deathgrippers were not good in the water, and hunting other dragons was not allowed, for obvious reasons.

Ripper had once gored an assassin. The man's body was torn in two pieces. Even better was that Ripper hadn't shown any interest in eating the corpse. Dragons had to be strictly trained to never look at humans as food.

He glanced at the dock where a ship had arrived, closed his eyes, and let his thoughts wander.

The Haven dragonriders could trust their dragons to come back for them and to act relatively independently. His spy among the dragonriders had reported to him that the dragons were not truly kept as pets or mounts, instead there was real bonding between the pairs. It was difficult to tell if any of what was reported was accurate. That spy had not returned to him or had any information about the tribe's whereabouts communicated to him in years, so he had to assume they were very far away, his spy was dead, or his spy had turned against him and joined the dragonriders.

Ripper eventually tired of the flight and glided back to his stable. Once the Deathgripper was asleep in the hay, he went to the tavern since Ryker would probably be there at this hour. He wanted to get a report on Ryker's progress with his prospective mount, since he hadn't been paying much attention to that small matter.

The last two weeks of starvation rations, sleep-deprivation, and dependency-training had to have had an effect, though he had left instructions with the guards to not truly neglect the dragon's minimum needs.

He went inside, found Ryker with his group of drinking buddies, and sat down as Ryker slammed an empty mug on the table. One of the guys, Thorlief, turned to the lone woman at the table. Helga was a sturdy Nord with a reputation for dueling anyone who challenged her. She was also not young or pretty, not that her appearance made her abnormal.

"Helga, where are all the good looking women round here?" Thorlief asked.

"Probably with the good looking men. Let me know if you see any," Helga answered, stroking her thin mustache.

"Men or women?" Thorlief muttered.

Helga shrugged, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Everyone guffawed and roared with laughter. It was common knowledge that Helga had alternative interests from what most women wanted, which actually helped her fit in among the men without causing any distractions.

Ryker looked like he wanted to start a new story, so he got up and tapped his brother's shoulder. He needed to refocus his brother on the purpose which Ryker had apparently been neglecting.

"How is it going with Spikey?"

Ryker shrugged, "You know how it goes. Just enough starvation and sleep-deprivation. Should do the trick soon. You just get back from a flight? Wanted some fresh air, eh?"

Someone broke wind at the table, leading to more roaring laughter.

I am surrounded by idiots.

"Yes, that. Do you think it is ready to accept the saddle?"

Ryker got up from the table, "Might as well try."

"Wonderful. Good thing no one was neglecting it either."

Ryker yawned, "Eh, if it dies then it wasn't tough enough for me."

Unacceptable. Wasting such a unique asset was inefficient and unnecessarily cruel. Every acquired dragon was a substantial investment in this business.

He would have to have a talk with his brother later on their own. At the very least they had to present a unified front to everyone else. Ryker didn't understand the finances and planning that was necessary for this endeavor. Ryker was far more a man of action, which helped keep spirits up while presenting a respectable image for other tribes or chiefs.

"Oh, a ship came in with news while you were aloft. Letter on your desk," Ryker added.

"You have to do a better job of securing information."

Ryker laughed, "What? You worry too much. Who's gonna sneak onto our island just to take some letters?"

Thorlief laughed, "Yeah, who can read anyway?"

More laughter followed as he spun about and left Ryker to his drinking and companionship.

It was highly unlikely that a spy could get onto Berk itself, due to all the levels of security before a boat could even set sail for here, but that didn't change the fact that securing information was a good practice to be in the habit of.

Back at his headquarters, he retrieved the letter, which it turned out contained highly important information.

A Night Fury, small Light Fury, and unknown rider had been spotted near Ard Skellig, the very location where he had acquired the Spine Fury. A merchant who had dealt in dragons and rare goods was killed in a dragon attack involving the two Furies and rider.

He stood to pace and consider this information and how it could play into events. Could that pair of dragons have been Shadowwing and his Light Fury mate? The letter was scant on any other details, so all he had was conjecture. Assuming that these dragons were related to Shadowwing or the dragonriders, it was unlikely a coincidence that they appeared in the same place where he got the Spine Fury.

Why would two Furies and a rider strike at a merchant on the open ocean? This was the first he heard of any dragon attack in the years since the disappearance. Assuming Shadowwing was involved, why send two Furies to Ard Skellig with an allied human? The only answers which came to mind were to get information or acquire supplies. The human could go into the city and obtain goods and information if they had anything to trade… such as dragon parts. Was that it? Had they traded dragon parts for goods their tribe needed, and then silenced the merchant afterwards? Another option was that they learned that the Spine Fury was taken captive, and they had tried to free the dragon.

Was the Spine Fury a dragon from New Haven and the dragonriders? That would explain why it was one of the more docile dragons. But it didn't display any signs of greater intelligence, though it was proud and willful.

He went to his table and rolled out a map of the northern waters. The need to trade in secret using dragonback for transportation meant that the Haven dragonriders must be in an extremely remote location where traditional trade via the sea was impractical.

"Where are you hiding?"

There were scant few locations where a tribe with dragons could settle down. Every settled island was not an option, and they could not live near settled islands anyway without being discovered. There would be no finding the dragonriders if they had traveled east on the mainland, but it was possible if they had instead settled on an island somewhere.

Of the remaining unexplored islands, he ruled out the ones too small to support a tribe of humans, even leaving aside the needs of dragons. How the dragonriders provided for their beasts was unclear since fish migrated throughout the year, and the number of dragons he recalled them having was too great to support with only fishing the waters around any island.

He had to redouble his efforts to locate them as soon as the other three warlords were nullified. At that point, he and Ryker would be the major powers in this part of the world. Only the dragonriders and their loyal dragons could be a threat if they suddenly showed themselves, though they appeared too isolationist to have such ambitions.

Further, his position could only be strengthened if he could convince one of the Furies to join him. Having a dragon equal to him at his side would provide clear advantages in scouting and combat, not to mention better understanding the needs of other dragons. The future involved them too.

Even if none of the Furies wished to join him, it would be enough to obtain assurance that the Haven dragonriders and their dragons would not interfere in his plans.

The Spine Fury was awake and staring warily at them. It could see that they brought fish, water, and a saddle.

"Come on, men. You know what to do," Ryker grumbled.

Ryker and three handlers entered the cell while the Spine Fury stared them down without otherwise reacting. Ryker pointed down, and the Spine Fury lay down. He gave it a bucket of water and several fish, which it drank and ate. While it was busy, Ryker swung the saddle up and over its back. Everything was going well.

The Spine Fury swung her head to the side and knocked Ryker over into a somersault. The handlers burst out in momentary laughter while the dragon shook off the saddle.

Viggo chuckled to himself.

She's still got attitude. Admirable.

Ryker got to his feet and glared at the Spine Fury while it calmly sat on its haunches. That it was being so calm was almost a taunt. Shouldn't the dragon be reacting more violently? He had no more time to think about it before Ryker shouted.

"Men! Get in here!"

More handlers with shields and spears entered the cell.

"Sir?" "Whazzit?" "Something need doing?"

"Restrain it!" Ryker yelled.

Curious, he too entered the cell to oversee whatever was going on. The men worked together to corner the dragon and leap on it, holding it down and completely restraining it while it vainly thrashed and struggled. They got to work tying its jaws and limbs together.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Ryker glanced at him and took out from a pocket a syringe filled with green liquid, "Backup plan. You sure about the dosage?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure this is necessary."

"My dragon. I'll break it in however I want."

He didn't trust Ryker to know what to do, so he went over to oversee everything for everyone's good, the dragon included. It still yipped in pain or surprise when he helped Ryker find a vein on a foreleg. Then it was done, and they just had to wait for the venom to take effect. The effect should be reliable, though this was the first time he had tried a dosage of any amount with her kind. This was as much an experiment as it was anything else.

If that little sting was meant to hurt, it did not. There was only a tiny drop of life-water on her foreleg where they had stung her with the tiny thorn. There had to be a reason for what the two-legs did and why they were holding her down. They were not fighting, instead just holding her as if to pass time. There was no reason to fight them or resist or-

She sniffed at her foreleg and scented stinging-tail hunter-kin. How was that possible? That kin was nowhere nearby.

Could stinging-tail hunter-kin stings make a kin not want to fight or resist? If true, that explained what happened with Second-Fighter, back when he was not a rotted kin. A sting would make the stung kin not want to fight, and maybe even fall asleep so the hunter-kin could eat or kill freely.

The two Alphas must have worked together. Cunning used his stinging-tail hunter-kin to get what they needed to-

To try to control her or rot her thinking.

Let them think that was working.

Fighting would not help, so she lay there until the two-legs got off and started taking away the false-vines. She got to her paws and stretched, glad that all the false-vines were off. Loud approached. This was the two-leg she saw the most and owed the most two. After all, it was teaching her what her place was in this nest, in his nest. Loud was her-

No, not her Alpha. She had no Alpha.

What was he holding in his paws? A sitting-on thing? He probably wanted to put that on a kin and fly with it or have the kin carry him. Was he bringing it for her? Yes, he was! The Alpha wanted her to be the kin to carry him! What an honor and privilege to-

No.

Go along with it and trick him, or refuse? What was best? Whatever helped attain the goal. A small sacrifice.

Loud came to her, put a paw on her nose, and gently pushed her head down to the ground, so she went down. Whatever would make him pleased. Loud and another two-leg put the sitting-on thing over her back, which did not feel comfortable at all as it pinched her spines.

Finally, Loud returned with a mouth-closing thing attached to long false-vines. The mouth-closing thing went over her jaws and partly in her mouth, which felt wrong.

All an act, a trick.

She groaned heavily at the weight on her back as Loud sat in the sitting-on thing on her back. It was not at all comfortable.

The false-vines pulled on her mouth-closing thing. What was that? Maybe this was how Loud let her know what he wanted. More ways to make him pleased and obey… no.

One of the other two-legs poked her flanks with a spike-stick while Loud tugged on the false-vines and the mouth-closing thing, which annoyingly pulled at her jaws. Why were his legs kicking at her side? Did he want her to walk? Probably. Let him think she wanted to obey… which she did… not.

What was happening with her thinking?

She walked out of her trap and into the bigger cave-chamber. Following Loud's signals tugging on her jaws, she walked in a circle and out of the cave. So wrong but necessary and a good trick and he would suffer for this.

Light and the open sky! Flight would be so good. How would Loud signal her to fly, carrying him? Was that even what he intended? Apparenly not, as Loud spun her around and had her walk back into the cave and the good den where she belonged.

Loud hopped off her back and patted her on the neck with a paw, which was very good and relieving and… no, it was not! Only a trick. Let him believe her thoughts were twisted.

She lay down when he pointed down with a paw, all to keep pretending.

Slapping shoulders and roaring loudly to each other, Loud and most of his underlings left the cave. Cunning stayed outside the den and watched her for many wingbeats. Then he was gone too.

Gone. Bad. No, good.

Thought was still twisted and confused, so she rubbed her head with her paws, not moving at all until the spinning and confusion stopped.

Awareness of two-leg things in her mouth and on her back. Those did not belong there!

She backed deeper into her trap-cave to be further away from the two-leg guards. Then she flicked out her claws and started working out of the mouth-closing thing, trying to stay as quiet as possible. All while the panic and fear and confusion and wrongness grew worse. These wrong-things should not be on a kin at all, ever!

She rolled her jaws and struck with her paws until the mouth-closing thing fell off with its false-vines broken. The sitting-on thing would take more time to get off, but the mouth-closing thing had been worse.

Knowing about the danger in advance had not been enough. Her thoughts themselves had partially turned against her. Fouled and rotted by the influence of two-legs. It was impossible, but it had happened. Maybe two-legs had something like thought-speak after all. Maybe they could force their wants into another life's thinking, like she could with prey.

But it was unlikely two-legs had any life-will-power. Two-legs could not share thought-voice with kin. She had tried to speak with one before, and that had not worked. No, two-legs could not thought-rot kin by using life-fires or thought only. Action and force was needed, in this case using a stinging-tail hunter-kin to do what mere two-legs could not do on their own.

She glanced at the sitting-on thing on her back. Loud would want to do more than only sit on her as she walked around. He would want to fly on her like other two-legs did with their kin, that much was certain. That would be an opportunity to throw him off and make him fall to his death!

But he might try to use more of the sting-rot to twist her thinking. Was any kin strong enough to resist that? She had known of the danger and still been affected a little. Maybe having felt the effect once would help next time. On the other paw, pretending to accept the sitting-on thing until the time to fight and break free might make the Alphas think they did not need to use the sting-rot.

She glanced at her flickering shadow on the cave-wall. The shadow stayed in place without moving.

Not being in full control of herself was unacceptable. Even lacking friends and being unwanted by others, she had always been able to trust her own thoughts and life-fire. But even those could be rotted and twisted. Alphas had to be in control of themselves to protect others.

That point brought up a problem. She could not allow other kin to see her carrying Loud, as the kin might stop seeing her as their Alpha. An Alpha could not show weakness and could not be used without losing status. Allowing Loud to actually use her for flight was a line to not cross, even if that made him unhappy with her.

Fortunately, she had already convinced almost all the kin, and the remaining ones would probably act when they saw other kin fighting the two-legs. All she needed was an opportunity when many of them were out of their traps. Then they could act together.