Dagur reentered the hut and looked over the writings on the wall. "So those shifty things are 'Grim Gnashers', Strykie." he stated. He began to laugh, happily, "And Dad used to fight them off." The Berserker stared at some of the words with a confused expression, "Okay...he's calling those statues 'Sentinels', but the problem is that they aren't actually statues. He said that they're dragons too." Dagur made a face, "Who'd want to just sit still all day? And if they're supposed to protect the island, why aren't they going after the Grim Gnashers?" A light lit up in his eyes, "Maybe they haven't seen them try to kill anybody yet. As soon as they do, they'll send them packing." Again, he went to look at the wall, attempting to gain more knowledge on the reptiles. "Here's something useful. Dad said that they move around at night to keep everything tidy." Stroking his scraggly beard, the viking thought aloud, "If we do a mild stakeout, we'll see when the Sentinels start flying. All we'd need is a way to get the Gnashers over there."
With an apologetic look, Dagur turned to Sleuther, "I might need you to be bait, Strykie." The Triple Stryke slumped to the ground, upset. "Don't worry. I'll skewer them before they can do anything to you, but I just don't know how else to make sure that the Gnashers come. Plus, it would be more risky to actually bring an old or sick dragon in the line of fire." Feeling better about it, Strykie rose back up and had a determined look in his eyes. "Thanks, Pal." Dagur grinned petting the dragon's head. That night, the two stayed outside and Sleuther played up being wounded very well. As the dragon dramatically fell to his back in slow motion, Dagur had to restrain his laughter. Instead of bursting out in cackles, he pretended to be asleep. Time went by and the Berserker fought boredom. After what seemed like an eternity, the two finally saw some Sentinels moving. Dagur did not yet dare to rise from the ground and continued to wait for the Grim Gnashers to arrive. About fifteen minutes passed before the predatory reptiles approached what they thought to be an injured Sleuther.
The Grim Gnashers stalked forward towards the Triple Stryke and Dagur noticed that none of the Sentinels even fidgeted. The Gnashers were quiet, but if he could see the sinister expressions on their faces, surely the dragons should. "Come on!" he thought, as he watched them get closer to Sleuther. One was baring its fangs and was about to dig them into Sleuther's left leg when Dagur threw a blade into the dragon's neck. It made a gurgling sound and caught a Sentinel's attention. The stony dragon went over to the group and sniffed the dead Gnasher. Raising its head upwards, it snarled at Dagur. Right as it looked up, the Berserker saw that its irises were white. The chief glanced at the other dragons and it started to make sense. "That's why they haven't seen the Grimmies going after anybody. Still, too bad that they didn't notice any of the other dragons' cries." he mused. By this point, Sleuther had risen and was at his friend's side. "We didn't attack one of your ailing residents." Dagur defended to the Sentinels, "They've been trying to eat the others." The Sentinels seemed unaffected by what he said.
Dagur rubbed the back of his neck, "Great. These dragons don't understand me. Or at least don't want to." he grumbled. Exasperated, Dagur saw some Gnashers flying towards an elderly Deadly Nadder. The poor dragon roared in horror as it saw its attackers. "You have to hear that! If you trust me for a second, you'll figure out that the same dragons you're trying to protect are in danger." Hesitantly, the Sentinels tilted their heads to listen and realized that the roars were those of distress. Taking off, they went to stop the proactive scavengers. Dagur leapt onto Sleuther's back and helped them chase the group away. It was a lot easier with the Sentinels' aid. Once the Grim Gnashers had fled, the Sentinels turned their attention back to the dragon-rider pair. They flew to several trees and returned, placing some fruit at Dagur's and Sleuther's feet. The Berserker smiled and handed them to Strykie, "Thanks." he told the Sentinels. Satisfied, the guards returned to their stations and went to their stonelike stages again.
A couple of weeks passed and Dagur had found many of his father's recipes for the island's special kind of fruit. They were a week into the Midnight sun, so it was the perfect time for going back to Berserker Island and then Berk. He needed to make sure that his people were not killing each other due to sleep deprivation and the same went for the Berkians. After things were back to normal, Dagur could give Heather the letter. It was his and Sleuther's last night there and Dagur ran a hand over the wall. Sighing deeply, he looked around the hut. A part of the Berserker wished that he had found something left for him, but he had already doubted that before he had even arrived. Dagur put the recipe scrolls in a sack and finished looking through the rest of the crates. With widened eyes, he saw a Dragon Eye lens. "Hey, looks like Dear ol, Dad had another lens." The chief thought, then slapped his forehead, "And Heather's got one too. I've got to remember to tell her that." His face clouded over, "I also forgot that Ansson has mine." A devilish smile crept over his face, "Seems like I'll just have to get it back."
The next morning-so to speak, Dagur was not really sure what time it was since the sun had not gone down-the two set off for home. They came up to the island in a few hours and saw that it was in an all right state. Even though Dagur stood out a lot from other Berserkers, they were all odd enough to hardly be affected by the Midnight Sun. Work carried on almost as usual. The vikings were only mildly fatigued and just yawned a good deal. Dagur eyed everything and decided that he could leave and not return to a burning pile of land. The chief went to the docks and saw Ansson trying to get that "Thunderfish" of his. Dagur cleared his throat, loudly. "Back already?" Ansson questioned, grumpily. Still, Dagur had to smirk at how he knew better than to add on his customary nickname for him. "I just remembered my lens that you stole. I want it back." the chief stated. Ansson crossed his arms, "Too bad. If ya want it, ya got to help me catch the Thunderfish." Dagur rolled his eyes and went over to him, "I'm not helping you find your imaginary friend. In fact, I'm not even asking for it."
Dagur pulled out one of his knives and inspected the blade, stroking it, "I know that you know where it is, so hand it over. It would be a lot easier than getting fed to piranhas." The older Berserker swallowed hard and started to pulled the lens out of his pocket. Dagur gave a smug smile as he took it, "See? Told you it would be easier." Triumphantly, the chief went back to his own hut to collect a few things and got went to check on his dragons. "How are you two holding up without sleep?" he asked them. Shattermaster and Bluebolt nuzzled their heads against his hands, happily. Dagur refocused on Sleuther, "How're you feeling, Strykie? Up for another flight or do you want to wait?" The Triple Stryke flew upwards and did a series of flips. "All right." Dagur laughed, "I'll take that as a 'Good to go'." He waved goodbye to the Gronckle and Skrill before they set off for the Hairy Hooligan's island. The two landed and were immediately glad that they had come. Vikings were bumping into each other and swatting at air. A couple were even fighting with fish. It was an odd sight, but Dagur would be fabricating if he said that it was not amusing.
Since no one was around, Dagur and Sleuther went to the training arena. On the way, they saw a viking about to eat an ax. Quickly, Dagur stopped him and moved it out of his reach. The two kept going, but made sure to keep an eye out for any situation similar to that. They finally reached the arena and saw the riders trying to wash their dragons. Dagur turned slightly to find Astrid doing twirls and singing. It was weird to see her being so carefree, but she was undoubtedly happy and that made the Berserker smile. He heard some sobbing and saw Snotlout hugging Hookfang for comfort. Before Dagur could wonder what was wrong, the Berkian began to get angry. "You, sir, are not a very good consoler!" he accused the Monstrous the Nightmare. As abruptly as he turned furious, Snotlout smiled dreamily at Astrid, "Such happiness. If only we all could experience it." And again, he started crying. Dagur spotted Heather and knew that she was exhausted by the shere fact that she had not noticed his presence yet. She was tripping over own feet and everything in sight. The reluctant Berserker was about to fall face first into a pile of weapons before Dagur caught her.
"Thanks." Heather said, prior to realizing who had helped her. Once she had, she pushed him away, "Get away from me." the viking glared. Fishlegs poked his head over his cleaning supplies, his eyes shiftily looking about, "Are you two conspiring against us?" he asked the siblings. Heather appeared stunned, "What? Of course not!" Clumsily, she returned to Windshear, who was sadly looking at Dagur and Sleuther. "Why are you even here?" Heather asked, coldly. "To conspire!" Fishlegs replied. The chief rubbed the bridge of his nose, "No, not to conspire. I came to help you guys." The Ingerman kept staring at him, "What makes you think that we need help? Do we look like we need help?" Dagur chuckled, "Kind of." he admitted. "They are more than a little...off, mon frère." Tuffnut stated. Ruff tsked, "The sleep deprivation is hitting them hard, but do you know why we aren't being affected?" she asked the Berserker. He grinned, "Why?" The twins puffed up, "Our Thorston constitution!" they declared, proudly. "We can go months probably." Ruffnut told. Tuff flicked his wrist, "Easy! Years is more like it." His sister frowned, "Did I say 'months', I meant decades!" "Centuries!" her brother fired back.
Once they had gone for a few yells longer, they huffed and looked at Dagur again. "Hey, why aren't you acting differently?" Tuff asked. The Berserker smirked, "It's never affected me." Ruffnut straightened her back and spoke in an exaggeratedly proper voice, "Ah, it makes perfect sense, Brother, that one with a natural insanity would not be prone to behave any more crazily than they usually do." Tuff nodded, "Quite true, Sister Nut." Quickly, they jotted more notes down. Dagur frowned moderately at what they had said and at the fact that they were writing things down again. "Where's Hiccup?" the chief asked them, "Is he as bad as they are?" The Thorstons shook their heads, "Not as bad, but not that good either. He's talking to Stoick at the Great Hall." Tuff told, beginning a staring contest with Ruff. Knowing that they would not have paid attention to any further statement, Dagur went to go find the skinny Berkian. The twins were correct and Dagur found Hiccup arguing with his father. "I just don't see how this is a bad idea." the heir said, crossing his arms. When he saw the Berserker, he looked more resolute, "Good, Dagur, you can agree with me."
"You've been searching for Thor knows what for a while now and keep trying to stop Viggo. Do you think that I should not go after the hunters and instead stay here to wait for their next attack?" Hiccup questioned. Dagur looked the Berkian over, "Well, it's the second week of the Midnight Sun. You probably should wait until you've gotten some sleep." His friend frowned, "You're one to talk. When's the last time that you got some rest?" The young chief eyed him blandly, "That's irrelevant. I never said to be like me." He could see that Hiccup was making up his mind to go anyway. "Hiccup, it's going to be a lot more difficult for Toothless to fight hunters and keep you safe if you're not at your peak." Dagur told. Hiccup was not listening and went outside with his regretful Night Fury. With a groan, Dagur followed him. "I'm trying to keep you guys from dying during this week. Can't you wait until it's over and you've gone to sleep?" he inquired, annoyed. "No, that's more time wasted." Hiccup stated, getting onto Toothless's saddle. The Berserker sighed, "I don't want you two to be out there alone, but I'm not leaving here." "I don't want you to come with me, but why not?" the heir asked. "Heather." Dagur replied, "She nearly face planted into some axes and stuff earlier. I'm staying to help my sister and the others."
"Then, that's great." Hiccup told him, "You can stay here while Toothless and I leave." Shaking his head, Dagur patted the Night Fury on the head, "Good luck, T." he wished. The two took off and the Berserker walked back to the training arena. Things looked even worse and Sleuther was trying to comfort the irritated dragons. Hookfang was glaring at his emotional wreck of a rider, Meatlug appeared to be sad with Fishlegs's paranoia, Windshear kept attempting to help Heather stand properly, and Stormfly looked annoyed with how bubbly Astrid was. The only dragons that were amused by it all were Barf and Belch. "You know." Dagur started, "You could clean them. You aren't tired, after all." he told the twins. They glanced at each other and burst out laughing, "We find ceaning to be overrated." Tuffnut said, in between chuckles. "That explains a lot." Dagur realized, under his breath. The Berserker tried to see if there were a chance any of the dragons could be cleaned and the answer seemed to be "no".
What he needed was a dark place where the Berkians could be stored to pass out in. The reptiles fervently aided in the search and eventually found the latch to a lower compartment in the arena. With protests ranging from nonexistent to untrusting shrieks, the dragon riders were tossed inside the space. "The latch isn't tight enough to keep air out, right?" Dagur mildly asked Sleuther. The dragon sniffed it and wagged his tail. Over some more time, Dagur started to notice that the twins were having some difficulties. They began arguing about fruit bats and why it was the wrong season to see them. In all honestly, it was only slightly different from how things normally were, apart from a few exhaustion-caused hallucinations. About an hour later, though, they were full on sleep deprived and having heated discussions with no one. "Oh? So you think that I shouldn't jump off the side of the island? Well, I disagree! I'll learn to swim on the way down." Tuffnut huffed at the air, beginning to run out of the arena.
Taken off guard, Dagur had to go get him. The chief caught the Berkian right as he jumped, slinging him over his shoulder. "Hey!" Tuff complained, wiggling, "I was about to show him." Dagur ignored the viking and brought him back to the arena. When they got there, he tossed Tuffnut inside the compartment with the others. "You say that Tuff failed? I can try, then." Ruffnut recommended, also conversing with nothingness. Before she could jump too, Dagur scooped the Thorston up and added her to the pile. The Berserker sighed and leaned against the wall. Right as he did, Toothless and Hiccup flew in. Hearing the snores from under the floor, Toothless went over to it and nudged it open, then proceeded to fling Hiccup inside. Dagur laughed at the display and left the arena to see if any other Berkians were about to accidentally die.
Luckily, the rest of the Berkians were not nearly as bad as the riders, so the Midnight Sun concluded without any casualities. Once the vikings were back to their normal selves, Dagur told Hiccup about the lens that he had. "Heather has one too. I need to tell her about it...and something else too." he stated. The viking left and dared to knock on her door. He did not expect it to go well, but felt like she deserved to know the truth. She answered and her face scrunched into a scowl, "Why are you even still here?" she questioned. Nervously, Dagur pulled the scroll from behind him. He fumbled with it for a moment and bit his lip, "Um, you have a Dragon Eye lens." he said, quietly. Her eyes widened, "What?" "On your belt. Funny. I never noticed it." he told, tilting his head to see. Heather took the lens, "I've got to tell Hiccup." she said, starting to push past him. Awkwardly, Dagur continued, "I've already told him, but there's another thing that I want to let you know." Heather kept walking, "I don't want to hear it." "It's about our father." the Berserker blurted out.
Heather stopped in her tracks, hands balled into fists, "What about him?" she inquired, through clenched teeth. "He left to go on adventures. I didn't kill him." Dagur admitted. Heather spun to face him, "And why should I believe you?" The older viking handed her the letter, "I've been looking for him and found where he had been. That's where I've been going off to." His eyes showed sadness, "He is still gone, though. He died on Vanaheim." Heather eyed him suspiciously and unraveled her note. She read it then looked back up at the chief. "I can't be sure if this is real or not." she stated. Dagur's face had hopefulness in it, "I still have the map, so I can take you there. There are some dragons that might need to remember me in order to let you come and go." He held out the map and showed her. Heather folded the map back up, "I'm not going anywhere with you. I'll go to Vanaheim by myself." She went to the stables and Dagur glumly looked around Berk. They needed to get their gold back. Though Berserker Island had many resources, they would not forever if they had to split it amongst two islands. He saw another task ahead of him, but warmly welcomed the distraction.