Hey my dear, patient readers. Sorry this chapter took so long to update, but both Eugene and Flynn brought me some trouble, and I've been working quite a lot this past month. I got called in on my last day off, and they tried to call me in tomorrow too and... I might have told a tiny little white lie saying I can't because my car is... unavailable. Because I really need tomorrow off or I'll most likely collapse. For if I work tomorrow, my next day off is satruday next week... To all of you working double shifts because of covid-19, I feel you. I truly do.

That said, I hope you're all safe and healthy!

Repelled

A mighty roar frightened every bird in the vicinity, causing them to lift out of their nests and hidings to escape. The sound was also picked up by two men and one familiar. It caused North to move forward faster, knowing that it was the roar of the dragon and fearing what it meant for Jack.

Flynn Rider froze in his tracks along with his horse, Merida's ears back and her head low. Flynn did some hunting in his spare time and felt like he was familiar with all the noises of the animals that surrounded Berk. This was one he'd never heard before, and it urged him to be a lot more careful in his approach than he'd thought to be before. He had set out to bring back at least one Overland, but killing something unusual at the same time would be a good bonus.

Eugene? The Enchantress's familiar almost flew through a mountain in his hurry to reach the origin of the sound before the echoes died out. Because he'd found it. He knew without the shadow of a doubt that he'd found Mother Gothel's last curse.

It might have been a minute or an hour. Jack didn't know. He felt numb and cold and there was this hurt in his heart, like a piece of it had been torn out. Philippe had slowed down, lost and wanting to go back to the safe place with the black creature that came with apples and the invisible hands that scratched his itches and always made him feel pretty when he was alone. It was cold out here.

Jack wiped at his face. Crying wouldn't help him. He knew that, and still the tears rolled over his stinging cheeks. Jack probably looked wholly unattractive right now. Hiccup wouldn't like it.

The thought of the dragon caused Jack to fold in on himself as a new wave of grief washed over him and he heard himself sob pathetically.

When the wave passed, Jack tried to think. Hiccup had sent him away because North was coming. If North had arrived at the castle he would have been killed, and Hiccup had already seen too much death.

But sitting up and looking at his surroundings, Jack was faced with a new challenge; to actually find his father.

Looking back at the tracks Philippe had made in the snow, Jack frowned at how difficult they were to actually follow. He was lost.

"Shit, what am I doing? How am I supposed to find North like…" The mirror! What had Hiccup said? "It will show me anything I want to see in the world."

Digging out the mirror from where he'd shoved it earlier, Jack found himself staring at it. What had Hiccup used it for, for it to have shown him more than he could stand?

"Show me Hiccup," Jack whispered.

Just like before, the image of his own face changed and showed the dragon Jack had just left behind. Jack's eyes widened. Hiccup was sitting in front of a dragon statue that looked so much like himself, staring at it with such intensity as if he was waiting for something, holding its stone face between his hands as if the statue would look away.

Jack had never seen this petrified dragon before but it didn't matter. Not when Hiccup's eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against the stone and tears started to fall.

"Please," Jack heard the dragon whisperer, a heart-breaking plea. "Please, I've done what you asked. Please turn them back now."

It was too much. Jack pressed the mirror to his chest. He wondered how often Hiccup had suffered and pleaded like that without Jack knowing. Carrying the burden of the curse all alone, of course Hiccup had spent every waking hour trying to fulfil whatever requirements there were to lift the curse.

Taking a shallow breath, Jack renewed his resolve. He was going to find North, bring the elder back to Berk, make him understand and then return to Hiccup's side. He wanted to have more moments like the one today in the sitting room, sharing riddles and stories. Hiccup had said he was helping, and if his presence was worth anything at all Jack wanted to be there. He wanted to… just be near Hiccup.

"I can't help it," Jack said out loud. "I love you, Hiccup. There's probably something wrong with me for feeling this way, but I love you."

With red cheeks, Jack turned to the mirror again, seeing his own reflection. Yup, there was certainly something wrong with him if that was the face he was making after confessing his feelings out loud to himself.

"Oh, drop dead. Show me how to find my father."

This time, instead of the image contorting, Jack watched his own face grow distant before the image lifted and he saw himself from above, like from the view of a bird. A bird that flew higher and higher, then started to move and dive in a different direction, landing on a familiar figure.

"Dad."

Jack looked up. There were about two hours of daylight left and he didn't have a lantern or anything with him. But if he understood the mirror right, North was just around the mountain to his left. All he could do was hope he'd reach his old man before dark.

Crawling through soggy snow in bird form with a shocked body was humiliating, but Eugene had to do it in order to get far enough away from the castle to be able to move properly again.

"I came to investigate and maybe offer help," the familiar grumbled. "And they've set up a repellent against magic?! Why? When? If they knew how to keep Mother Gothel away, why hadn't they done that from the start?"

The familiar stopped talking when he got his beak full of snow mixed with animal urine. The things he subjected himself to for Rapunzel's sake. She better reward him after this.

It was slowly getting easier to breathe. Eugene hadn't encountered a lot of repellents in his lifetime, but this was by far the strongest one. He'd never been immobilized before.

"I should have been more careful," Eugene huffed as he stopped to breathe for a short while. "Mother Gothel did frequent these mountains after all."

He continued his strange crawl, using the body parts that hadn't given out altogether; one thigh, two toes and his head. The further away from the repellent he got, the more mobility he regained. It took a long time, at least an hour, and once he could finally move at least one wing and regained feeling in his spine so he could stand up, Eugene was exhausted. The repellent had given his system a real shock and he could neither shape-shift or fly. By this time, the sky was beginning to darken.

Shaking out his feathers, Eugene glared towards the place where the curse was and sat down to wait out the shock and rethink his strategy.

He'd heard a roar that he hadn't heard in ages. But the dragons had disappeared. Which made Eugene certain that where that dragon was, he would find the curse. Where the dragon was the familiar would also find the reason for the curse.

"And they set up a repellent!" the bird snapped. "I am so close! It's right there! And here am I; completely floored! Who set that up?"

Not that it mattered. Eugene was down, his own magic nullified and his body still tingling unpleasantly. And he was dirty from crawling through the snow!

Eugene used every trick in the book to calm down and think rationally and not fall back on cursing out the infuriating situation. The thing was that he hadn't expected it at all, thus flown straight into its field and the rest was history. Had he been careful from the start he would probably have sensed the repellent before it affected him.

With ruffled feathers the familiar began to walk back to go around the building, intent on checking how tight the security was. Even though this wasn't a body meant for walking, most birds have strong legs. To his surprise, the building was actually visible once he started feeling the repellent again.

"Short range but packs a punch, huh? I hate it."

Eugene studied the view. All he could see from this angle was a wall, a stone barricade between him and the curse, which he couldn't pass because he couldn't fly, and falcons aren't good for climbing.

Almost boiling at this point, Eugene turned south and started marching, grumbling and hissing and spitting. He saw a mossy rock that to his eyes looked like a laughing face, and the familiar attacked it, scratched and hacked away at the moss until the likeliness it had with a face was annihilated. It got some steam out of his system, and moss in his beak, and made him even more tired. He stood there gasping until it got fully dark before he found the strength to continue his quest. Soon, Eugene was faced with another surprise; the further from the gate he got, the closer to the wall he could go.

"Why? Is there another trap somewhere?"

Eugene stopped and tried again to restart his magic, hoping to put out some feelers for anything else that could harm him. Unfortunately that was a wasted effort that left him drained further.

"There was definitely raven eggs and rosemary in that repellent. And here I thought Mother Gothel had managed to ban rosemary from the realm… I'm spending way too much thought on this! I need to get through this wall!"

Shaking himself, Eugene pushed aside as much of his exhaustion as he could and carefully trudged on. Unfortunately, without his magic senses, the familiar was vulnerable and aware of it. If there indeed were more traps that the repellent at the gate was supposed to make you unaware of, Eugene didn't dare walk too close to the wall. And when he came across a hollow stump that looked very inviting, the familiar was torn.

"I should press on. But it's no use when I'm down. The cursed one have waited for at least six years. Surely they can wait another day? But what if there's a time limit? Wait, would Mother Gothel do that?"

His head felt like there was a fog in there. He knew Mother Gothel well, why would he be second guessing himself?

"No, I really should sleep off the effects. I'm sorry, Rapunzel."

Darkness was falling, but North didn't have time to rest. The worry for what had happened to Jack after her heard the dragon's roar kept adrenaline pumping through his veins and made him numb to both the exhaustion and the strain on his body as he worked his way up another slope.

"Dad!"

The toymaker gasped, turned his skies and managed to stop. What was that? He thought he'd heard Jack's voice. Was it possible?

"Dad? North, can you hear me?"

It was Jack!

"SON!"

His voice echoed between the trees. It wasn't completely dark yet, but shapes of trees and mountains had started to melt together with the shadows.

"Dad, I don't have a light! Where are you?"

The echo. The bouncing sounds made it difficult to pinpoint where Jack's distant voice was coming from. But the boy had made a good point.

"Stay where you are and I'll make a touch."

Settling his pack at the ground, North dug out flint and the dry wood he'd packed before leaving home, knowing it would be hard to come by in the forest. Setting it on fire was only a minute's work.

At first the light revealed nothing, nothing but the trees, the melting snow and rocks underneath it. But then he heard the sound of hoofs, and when he turned he blinked at the sight of a familiar horse coming towards him.

"Philippe?"

The horse turned slightly, and North saw Jack seated on the horseback. The boy didn't hesitate to throw himself off the horse and into North's arms. The father could do little more than catch his son and feel that yes; this was real.

"You escaped," North realized, eyes widening at the insight and laughter started bubbling up in his body. "You got away! That's why the dragon… the dragon!" North grabbed Jack's shoulders so he could look his son in the eye. "Are you hurt? What happened? What if the dragon followed you?!"

"He wouldn't," Jack said, and North took note of his tear-stained face. "He can't."

Jack pulled himself close to North again, his shoulders shaking and breathing harsh.

The elder wrapped his arm tight around the teen, keeping the torch away and an eye on the sky as he gently rocked his upset son.

"Come Jack. Let's go home now. And when spring comes, we're moving far away from here. You'll never have to fear that monster again."

Jack was too tired, conflicted and drained to answer.

Early morning, long before the sun rose, Flynn Rider was tying Merida's reins around a tree, leaving all unnecessary clothing and equipment with the horse. The cold was a disadvantage, but Flynn rather had the freedom of movement over the comfort of warmth. Besides, with the way his heart was racing with excitement, he figured he would keep warm.

He'd spotted it the night before; the castle. He still could barely believe Overland had been right about that one, though even in the almost dark of dusk it looked old and in a state of disrepair.

The gate was open wide, and seemed unbent and free of rust, so somebody had to be here to maintain it. The climate here wasn't that merciful against metal.

Flynn carefully and silently slipped through the gate and ducked in behind the nearest bush. He wasn't dumb enough to go through the front entrance, that's where the master of the house always greeted you, and Flynn had gone through enough back doors and scaled enough walls in his pursuit of nightly female company to know all houses had those little unofficial entrances. A building of this size had to have several.

Sneaking along the outside wall, Flynn spied faint light in some of the windows. Interestingly for such an old building, all windows are intact.

Frowning in suspicion, Flynn wonders if Jack is held in a room with a window, but quickly dismisses the idea. According to North, Jackson was held prison here, so he'd be either in one of the towers or in a basement.

There was no wind, but suddenly there was a rush of noise going through the overgrown courtyard. Flattening himself against the ground, Flynn's hand landed on something cold and hard with a line of pricks on, but his brain was too busy, choosing this exact moment to remember North had once said there was a monster living here.

One that had locked North up and Jack had come to negotiate with, trading his life for North's.

Right now Flynn could come up with exactly two reasons as to why; one where Jack was definitely dead and the other reason… well, the one where Jack had ended up as a monster's dinner actually sounded like the better option.

Shaking his head the innkeeper concentrated on what his hand had landed on. It was too dark to see, so he used his hands.

It was small, probably made of stone, but strangely enough wouldn't budge. There was only moss and dirt around it so Flynn thought it might be a small statue made out of a much bigger rock that was otherwise underground.

Abandoning the rock and still not hearing any more rustling, Flynn carefully crawled forward.

Again, the bushes around him rustled.

A trap?

Flynn breathed carefully. Nothing had approached him yet so he was probably safe for some time still, but whoever the master of this place was obviously didn't like surprises. Because he couldn't see clearly in the dark of morning he also couldn't see whatever clever device he was touching that made the bushes give his position away.

He started crawling back towards the outer wall, trying to touch the ground as little as possible and still feel the ground for any wires or something that could set off another trap.

Everything was silent.

Well, this wasn't going to be as easy as just finding an entrance to the castle, actually getting to the castle was going to be a pain as long as Flynn couldn't see the traps. But nothing had jumped him yet at least.

Flynn continued on along the wall, trying to see how much vegetation there was on the yard and if there were any trails that for all means and purposes should be used by the castle owner, and thus safe.

Daylight slowly, almost unnoticeable lightened the darkness. Flynn could make out more and more of the plants and the castle and what appeared to be statues. Thousands of statues, still shapeless in the gloom. Not that the man could more than frown at them as he was still concentrating on his goal.

Due to the dark he'd missed it at first, and had almost circled the whole south part before there was enough light for him to see a smaller building attached to the side of the castle. There were no windows that he could see, so Flynn guessed it was a storage.

Perfect.

Scanning the area between him and what looked like his way into the castle, Flynn noticed this area seemed more maintained than that of the front yard. The bushes all seemed to be in lines and there were pathways; his ticket into the building.

Judging the distance, the innkeeper took off running as quietly as he could and jumped clear over a hedge onto a path.

And the entire garden awoke. The earth moved under Flynn's feet and following his instincts he started running. He couldn't tell what's happening, but knew there was something swatting at him and trying to grab onto him. Luckily the door to the storage was slightly open and Flynn burst inside and hurriedly closed the door behind him, happy to find there was a sturdy hatch to lock it with. Whatever had chased him collided against the building and the man spun away from it, searching for an escape or a place to hide but there was no light at all here, he couldn't even see his own hand!

The world outside went eerily quiet again. There was no rustling, no scraping or scratching against the wood of the wall, no snuffling noises of an animal. There were not even any footsteps.

As Flynn breathes, a light hesitatingly lit up in the area, and he turned around to see the inside of a stable take form from the darkness. It smelled comfortably familiar of fresh hay, horse and manure.

When Jack left, he'd taken their horse, but North had returned without it.

Flynn almost swore in pure astonishment, and there was a great deal of disappointment in there too.

Jack must have managed to escape. That's why the dragon had roared the evening before.

Crafty little shit side-stepping Flynn's plans to become a village hero and making all his hardships in even coming here a major waste of time!

Unless…

Flynn stared at the space before him. The monster had roared last night, meaning it was still alive and kicking.

He felt for the knifes hidden on his person.

The light was coming from an oil lamp. It must have almost gone out when Flynn had rushed in. He considered bringing it along, but decided against it. It was closer to dawn now so there was bound to be more natural light inside the actual building.

He moved towards a door in the opposite wall that should lead into the castle.

"Ye here to kill tha dragon?"

Flynn froze. There was someone here? Scratch that, there were people here? He hadn't heard any breathing beside his own!

But try as he might, Flynn couldn't spot a single shape among the shadows that looked like a human, aside from an old scarecrow in the corner that seemed to stare tiredly at him. But if there were people here, that might be how Jack had gotten away, if that was the case.

"Or did ye come fer Jack? He left already."

The innkeeper frowned. The voice spoke in the same dialect as the elders of Berk. Since Berk was so disconnected from the rest of the country, it had a very distinct dialect, so he knew for certain this person was born and raised in Berk.

A crazy idea, or rather a theory, started to form in his mind.

"I did come looking for Jack," Flynn told the shadows in a light tone, hoping to come off as harmless. "His father missed him so, but then I got lost and found my way here. Sorry for not knocking on the front door. I'm terribly shy, I'm afraid."

"Well, everyone knows yer here now, lad. Even tha dead I'd say tha way the earth shook at yer entrance."

Flynn stared into the shadows, his suspicion growing firmer. "Everyone, you say. And who are everyone?"

"Everyone who lives here, and everyone here who doesn't live."

The innkeeper shifted his weight, squinting in hopes of catching sight of the speaker. "And are all of those people… from Berk?"

"Yes. Want ta know why those who come here hasn't left?"

The scarecrow suddenly moved, jumped and stood between Flynn and the exit.

"This is what ye'll become if ye stay here too long, sonny."

Flynn didn't even think. He turned right around, tore open the door and into the darkness in a mad dash to get away. Oil lamps lit up around him and another door appeared before him that opened without aid and Flynn found himself in a wide space that left him feeling even more vulnerable. There was too much light and not enough places to hide and the people of Berk that had disappeared years ago had all turned into scarecrows?!

"Woah, calm down, son! You look like you're about to have a heart-attack."

Whipping out his knife the human spun around looking for another person turned field decoration. But there was none. None that he could see in the limited light.

"Who are you? Where are you?" Another thought joined the jumbled mess that had become of Flynn's thoughts. "Lord Almighty, has Jack turned into a scarecrow too?!"

For some reason the air filled a small chorus of snorts and chocked laughter.

"Not the craziest thing I've ever heard, all things considered," a female voice spoke with mirth.

"Eh, Jack's a little too pretty to have become a scarecrow, don't ye think?"

"No, with his love for the great outdoors he would have made an excellent addition to the yard."

He was surrounded, but Flynn still couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. He tightened his grip on the knife and took a careful step forward.

The quiet sound of laugher instantly stopped.

"Do you want to die? Put that away," the woman's voice spoke in warning.

"Show yourselves and I'll consider it," Flynn hissed back.

"We're right in front of you, you know. Actually, we're all around, not even invisible and yet you can't seem to see us. Jack had that problem too."

Jack. Jackson had been here. The scarecrow earlier had said he was here. Flynn made an effort to think clearly, knife still held in a death-grip in front of him, ready to protect himself against anything that might pop up.

"Where is he?" the innkeeper demanded. "What happened to him? Did he really run away?"

Silence met him, then whispers, and then there were gasps.

"What's happening down there?"

Suddenly, Flynn was bathed in light from torches, oil lamps and candles.

Too surprised to do anything other than try to escape the unwanted spotlight the human dashed forward again, hoping to escape, or find a place to hide and regroup. But it was like the light itself chased him, and the space around him just grew bigger as he entered a hall. A hall with twin staircases.

The man stopped as the candles and torches no longer lit up only him.

On one of the stairs, eyes wide with surprise and pupils like thin slits, was a black dragon. A black dragon that opened its mouth wide and roared in fury.

Flynn turned and legged it. Before him was a grand door and luckily it opened easily when he pulled at them, slowing him down for only a second before he was out in the open.

Outside the yard came alive. Bushes rustled and stretched and reached for him and tried to escape the earth.

Without stopping Flynn ran out the still open gate and went straight for where he'd hidden Merida.

"Come on, girl! Run!"

The horse neighed in fright and Flynn almost failed to free her reins, and one he did Merida took off with the innkeeper hanging onto the saddle for dear life.

But nothing seemed to come after them, and Merida quickly calmed down once she realized what had startled her was only her human.

Staring back towards the castle, Flynn no longer blamed North for the state of mind he'd been in since he came back. It had sounded like crazy talk, but seeing it for himself… well, Flynn was still shaking uncontrollably, so much so that he barely could put his warm clothes back on.

"This is bad," he muttered to himself. "This is really bad. I have to talk to Stoick. He must know this. His son… oh, Lord Almighty! No, I can't tell anyone that. I'll say it's a curse, because it is a curse, and Jack must be coming back to Berk too, he can be my witness. He wouldn't mind burning that place to the ground. Not after being held prison there for so long. Shit, what if he's started turning into hay and wood? Bloody shit this isn't good."

Flynn finally got his gloves on, and so he mounted Merida, determined to rally as many people as possible and end this curse.