Standard Disclaimer: This is not an official sequel to IHHS.
"Alright, I'll tell you," I sighed, feeling much like Mogadon must have.
Sometimes, it really does feel pointless to argue. I remembered how I knew the name 'Skrill' when I was on the back of one and my hair stood on end. I was hoping I would be able to keep this national secret, but priorities have a way of sacrificing some secrets to keep others. Best to tell him about Bork and let him think that's all there is to know. Better than him sniffing around because he thinks I'm hiding something, that's for sure. Still, I don't have to tell him that I'm telling him a national secret, do I? And I don't have to tell him about the Book of Dragons either.
"Have you ever heard of Bork the Bold?"
Dagur's eyebrows scrunched in thought. "I… think so. Wasn't he the Hooligan's first chief, or something like that?"
"Close. He was the advisor to the first Hooligan chief, but that's not why I brought him up. Bork the Bold was the first Viking to document the dragon species of the archipelagos. Centuries ago, he made pretty detailed drawings and descriptions of the dragons that were around at the time. You do the math."
"So… he wrote about Skrills?"
"Yup. He drew one, wrote about their strengths, weaknesses, things that happen when you get too close, that kind of thing – basically all the things that you'd need to know if you were as unlucky as he was. Before he was called 'Bork the Bold', he was called 'Bork the Very, Very Unfortunate'."
"So he only wrote about dragons because his luck was awful? He sounds like my kind of Viking."
I was about to say something he might have expected until I got an idea to mess with him. "You know, Gobber is actually Bork's last living descendant." I pumped a little sarcasm into my voice. "Maybe that's why you two hit it off so well."
Dagur scoffed and ignored my teasing. He might not have as much experience with the unexpected as I do, but it looks like he's got it down when it comes to conversation. "So that's why he's got two stumps, huh? I was wondering how that could have happened. Let me guess: a big accident, or a big dragon. Either way, luck wasn't on his side, right?"
"The second one, and yeah."
Dagur shuddered and began walking to the center of his deck. "I'd hate to fight whatever did that to him."
"I thought 'Dagur the Doombringer' was afraid of nothing," I recalled as we approached his now-sunbathing dragon. Gods that's something I miss.
He scoffed again. "I'm not, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid. I won't put my head in the mouth of a Monstrous Nightmare just because I'm not afraid of it."
"Really? You strike me more as the Night Fury type."
"Maybe I am. But like I said, I avoid it because it's an unnecessary risk. I guess it might be interesting if it were safe, but it's not like that would ever happen."
"Oh, but I've seen you do plenty of risky things in the past hour," I prodded, mostly just to keep the conversation away from me.
"I take a lot of risks, sure," he admitted. I wasn't expecting his voice to lose its levity and his shoulders to square. He became much more serious when he began to explain. "But the key word there was 'unnecessary'. There has to be a point to it, especially if I'm going to put my life on the line, which I haven't done today." He walked over to the crate that he'd pulled a couple of dead rabbits from earlier. "For example, it was a life-threatening risk to un-ice my Skrill, but I wouldn't be who I am today if I hadn't taken it." He pried the lid off. "And there's nothing wrong with taking a few precautions, either." He pulled out a carcass. "I also wouldn't be who I am today if I hadn't prepared some food ahead of time."
The sound of the opening crate stirred his dragon awake and reminded me of a question I hadn't had the chance to ask before now. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask you something, too. Are rabbits his favorite food?"
Dagur rolled his eyes as he tossed one in the air. "I wonder how you figured that one out."
His dragon gave me a near-unnoticeable bow, blending it with the landing after catching the snack, then settled back down in his sunbath.
"How do you keep them so fresh?" I asked, not catching any traces of rot from the carcass or the crate, which still has me just as confused as earlier.
Dagur raised an eyebrow. "Define 'fresh'."
"I, uh, remember something about raiding dragons staying away from food that's too old," I added, mostly to hide the fact that I could smell them from here.
(Thankfully) satisfied, Dagur's skeptical look twisted into a grin, losing the pose of a powerful practitioner and bringing back the crazy attitude that I'm much more comfortable with.
Hm. That's another thing I never thought I'd think. More comfortable with crazy.
"It's the Berserker's Battle Batch of Bunnies, Brother!" he shouted, falling into another fit of laughter that lasted way too long. After a minute of recovery, he wiped a tear from his eye as he stood up straight again. "Ah, that name gets me every time! It's a centuries-old recipe that we used during our early conquests. Before each battle, every Berserker Battalion would bake and batter a bunch of bunnies to keep their Skrills in line. Good thing we kept the invention around."
"Speaking of inventions," I said, now completely distracted, "I was wondering if I could take a closer look at your dragon. There are a few things I've been meaning to check out, and I think now would be the perfect time to do it." Looking at the Dragon of the Sun, I nodded when I saw He had just passed halfway to high noon, then turned back to a now-curious Dagur.
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" he asked, probably noticing my mood swing.
Smiling and bringing my hand behind my neck (which I have to stop doing), I hopefully kept from blushing as I answered. "Inventions are kind of my thing."
"Really?" he asked, skepticism written all over his face.
"Well, yeah. I invented this leg," I said, gesturing down at my foot. "I invented the bola machine I used to shoot down the Night Fury, for all the good it did me."
His eyes widened as he remembered that little detail.
Luckily, I practiced saying 'shoot down the Night Fury' yesterday, so my habit with dragon names was shut down this time thanks to muscle memory. Well, organ memory. Vocal cords are an organ, right?
I shook my head so I could focus again. "I also invented most of the archipelagos' supply of spyglasses, from what Johann told me."
Dagur raised an eyebrow and pulled out the device in question. "Like this?"
This time, I wasn't surprised by what he had in his pocket – most Vikings-in-command, especially at sea, have one. "Yeah. Most of them are pretty old by now, so I might have to make a few more to fund some projects. Oh! And I invented the Miniature Mobile Kill Ring, for all the good that did me. Actually, Gobber told me you all call them Dragon Wagons."
"That was you?!" he gasped, eyes widening even further than the first time.
"Well, they weren't built until after I shot the down the Night Fury and everyone thought I was dead, but yeah. Gobber didn't stick to the designs, though. There should be more metal on them than there is."
He looked like he was having a hard time digesting this. "No wonder the Nightmare ones didn't work at first!"
I chuckled a bit. "Yeah, I imagine they would've caused problems even for my original designs." I lost all my amusement when I realized the implication. "Wait, you used them?!"
"Not much…" he slowly answered, giving me that piercing look again.
I really need to measure my reactions. Well, there was really only one thing to say after that. "Define 'much'."
And the grin returns. "We only used them to catch the dragons we sent to Berk a few months ago. We went through three or four trying to get a Nightmare, and we figured it was too much trouble trying to capture dragons after you guys were through paying for the ones we did catch. I'm not sure if Johann gave the designs to anyone else, though. Knowing him, I wouldn't be surprised if there were dragon wagons all over the archipelago by now."
I sighed, making a mental note to find out what Johann doesn't know later. For now, I settled for another neutral answer. "That does sound like Johann."
"So what exactly do you plan on 'inventing'?" Dagur asked, reminding me why we were even talking about my inventions in the first place. "Some kind of weapon that uses lightning?"
"I don't know yet," I half-lied, just so I wouldn't lose him right away. "Now that you mention it, a lightning-hammer does sound pretty cool," (his eyes widened at that idea), "but I think that's too ambitious for now. I was thinking more along the lines of a lightning-proof saddle. That harness doesn't look very comfortable." I gestured at the ropes around his dragon's neck for emphasis.
It didn't look like the thought had ever occurred to Dagur, but he was quick on the uptake, especially after the Sk- the dragon jumped to his feet and joined the conversation (even though I could hardly tell what he was saying).
"So… is it comfortable?" Dagur asked.
I smiled when I saw how much more 'comfortable' he was with talking to his friend, who shrugged and shook his head.
My smile widened and I decided to take a risk and translate. "I think you should take that as 'I can deal with it, but not really'."
Dagur gave me an impressed look before nodding and turning back to his dragon. "So, do you think a saddle would be better?"
The Skrill – no, the dragon! Bad Hiccup! – tilted his head at the question.
At that moment, I remembered something similar happening with Toothless a week ago, and took another risk without really thinking. "Maybe he doesn't know what 'saddle' means."
"Hmm…"
Please don't notice please don't notice please don't notice
"A saddle would be something that I can use to ride your back instead of hang from your head," he explained.
I let out a relieved sigh when Dagur didn't noticed anything that time, too distracted by his make-shift conversation, which I can completely understand. There's only so much I should try to get away with. It's a miracle he isn't very suspicious yet, and it'd be best if I kept it that way, so I decided to stop helping. He needs to do this on his own anyway.
"Hiccup thinks he can make one that'll keep me safe from your lightning."
His dragon looked very happy about the idea, bobbing his head up and down and letting out a few happy chirps that reminded me yet again of when Two-Walkers say 'yes'.
Realizing that his dragon had said 'yes' earlier today (and feeling all smart about it) almost gave me away the first time, but since I'd been blessed with the task of convincing the most skeptical Viking on Earth that dragons could talk, the gods decided to be more forgiving of that slip-up.
Still, it's not like knowing the exact word matters in this case, what with the nodding. The excited dragon in front of me was pretty good at using body language by now, and the excited Dagur in front of me looked just as happy. Only in his case, it was probably more about his first successful human-dragon conversation than the saddle itself.
He turned to me the moment he had his answer. "Well, you think you can make one?"
Or maybe it was about the saddle. Pulling my mind away from their conversation and back to something that'll excite me even more (which is saying something), I raised a finger to slow him down. "First, I need to figure out a way around the spikes on his head. I'm pretty sure they'd get in the way-"
And his dragon retracted the spikes as easily as Toothless retracts his teeth.
"Well. That takes care of that problem. Next I need to find out what his lightning will and won't affect."
Clear images of trees getting struck during lightning storms flashed through my head. It must have been during the summer, considering just how clear they were. Maybe I should start cataloging my memories so they're easier to deal with, and so I won't have any more surprises later.
Thankfully, Dagur interrupted that distracting line of thought. "Well, metal is out of the question then. For the saddle, anyway."
"Why's that?" I asked, now realizing he would know a lot more about lightning than most Vikings.
"It attracts lightning, and I think it stores it somehow, just like he does." He gestured at his dragon, who nodded in agreement. "It also gets really hot in the process. That's why I stopped wearing my helmet all the time. Flying so high up in the air, wearing metal in storm clouds – and on a Skrill, too – sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."
Note to self: Do not fly Toothless during storms. Or fight Dagur's dragon.
"Okay, so no metal. Anything else I should avoid?" I asked, now feeling just as excited as I've seen Fishlegs gets sometimes. I always love learning about things like this, just like he does when it comes to dragons.
Dagur didn't seem to mind my enthusiasm. "Not really," he said, about to move on before catching himself. "Oh! There is one other material that does some of the things that metal does, just not as much. But I don't think it'll be a problem."
"Why not?"
"Because you can't make a saddle out of water."
"Ah," I noted, just before another detail sprung up and sidetracked me yet again. "That reminds me! Why didn't the bucket of water extinguish him?"
I still remember the time I was extinguished, and I was seriously afraid his dragon would go berserk when the water hit his head. 'Losing your soul', as my nest-mates put it, is not fun. It looks like we got lucky in more ways than one today. Yet another reason not to do any more reckless pranks.
Dagur gave me an evil grin. "He doesn't use fire, so he can't be 'extinguished'. Most dragons have to ignite their fire somehow, and that's what we 'extinguish'. With Skrills, it's all ignition, so if you want to extinguish them, it's all or nothing. Sure, he can't use lightning if he's completely submerged in water, but Skrills live in storm clouds, so a small bucket won't do anything to them. That's why nothing matches a Skrill in battle. Especially on dry land."
I accidentally scoffed at the claim, and at Dagur's raised eyebrow, I saw my mistake. Since I can't exactly just come out and say 'you've never seen Shadow-Blenders in battle', I settled for something Dagur could understand: skepticism. "Don't be too sure. You never know what's out there."
"Yeah, whatever," he dismissed, rolling his eyes. "There's only one thing within these archipelagos, I think, that could beat a Skrill in battle, and it doesn't have to do with size or strength. Well, I guess it kind of does, but that's not what made it so deadly."
It's a good thing he said that; I'd almost forgotten about the Queen's battle strength. It was also a good thing that I remembered how no Vikings outside of Berk should know about her. "And what would 'it' be?"
He shrugged. "'It' isn't around anymore. At least 'it' hasn't been for a long time. And 'it' never visited our mainland, so there's no way to tell if my Skrill would've been stronger. Anyway, I think that's 'it' for the things we should avoid adding to the saddle. I have a few ideas about the materials we could use, but I don't think they're exactly what we need."
That might have been one of the smoothest deflections ever, making this the second time he's avoided telling me about the one thing he's actually afraid of. At least now it has a name: 'the most powerful thing in the archipelagos'. For now, my damn curiosity about lightning kept me from looking into it. "Materials like…?"
"Well," he started, "anything that doesn't act like metal or water gets charred or burned, it's just a matter of how much. You should avoid cloth and fur, but wood and leather are pretty resistant if they don't take a direct blast, so you could probably use a bit of both. Stone would be best, but I don't think that would be more comfortable than ropes, and it'd weigh too much. Oh, and the ropes burn easily if they're not attached at the right places, so I'm not sure how good those would be, either."
I raised my finger again while I organized my thoughts. After about ten seconds, I had all the pieces in place but one. "Alright… wood or possibly stone for the hard parts, leather on the inside if I can make it waterproof, and maybe ropes on your body harness. Now all that's left is the main ingredient." I paused again, thinking through all the materials I've used in the forge that we didn't just finish exhausting, before a special item flashed through my mind. "I have an idea," I said after a few more seconds of consideration, "but I don't know if it'll work or not. It's pretty much a shot in the dark."
Dagur shrugged. "I'm all for shooting things in the dark. Go for it."
"Stay here, I'll be right back!" I shouted behind my shoulder, dashing down the gangplank and over to my ship. Taking note of Gorge's snoring when I made it to the hold, I rushed to my gear as quickly as I could and began tearing it apart until I found my riding equipment. I pulled it out, set it in front of me, then carefully detached one of the two special 'ropes' that keep me tethered to Toothless' saddle during flight.
Three days ago I had to bring the rope, and Toothless along with it, into the forge when the metal part got stuck. Even with an impatient dragon constantly asking me if I was done, I managed to design around the problem that same night, making it less of a hassle to remove and fix. Of course, that led to the whole falling incident, but a solo-flying tail should fix that too.
I shook my head when the moldy scents got to me and I remembered why I was even in this smelly hold. Using one hand to hold the tether and the other to climb the ladder and open the latch, I rushed over to the other ship again.
Dagur raised an eyebrow at the rope when I made it back to his deck. "And what's that?"
Panting, I held it out so he and his dragon could see it better. "Something from Trader Johann. It's pretty stretchy and works really well as a rope. If it weren't so rare, I would use it more. Johann called it 'rubber'."
Dagur's face lit up in excitement. "Ooohhh! That's one of our trading islands' biggest exports! I have some of it in my skivvies. It's glorious!"
Okay, I was not expecting that. No warning but plenty of build-up. Just like Dagur said, doing the things people don't expect really gets to them. When I'd finally pulled myself together, a grinning Dagur took the rope from my hands. "So, you think this'll work?"
Trying to ignore the territorial instincts telling me to grab it back and snap at him, I took one last calming breath before responding. "It might, but we have to be careful. That's all the rubber I've got, and I kind of need it back when we're done."
Dagur looked at the tether for a few seconds with a thoughtful expression, then tossed it back to me and went down to his own hold. He didn't take long to come back up with a large block of rubber that he promptly set on the deck. He must have noticed my wide eyes, because he gave a short explanation. "The stuff comes from trees, you know. Trader Johann said that he's only ever seen 'rubber trees' on one island – the one that you guys visited in the summer – so we have a bunch of the stuff. I just told my father not to sell much so we can keep the price high."
"That's evil."
"That's business. Now stand back."
Following his instructions and his footsteps, I took ten steps away from the 'test zone'. But by the time I was next to Dagur, the old 'self-defense' instincts kicked in, telling me to put something other than distance between myself and the experiment (like some kind of wall), especially now that I know how metal attracts lightning. Dagur didn't seem to think it would be a problem, so I had to settle for asking a question that would hopefully calm my nerves. "Is it dangerous to be this close to a full powered lightning blast?"
Dagur shook his head. "Not unless you're the target. Besides, we aren't starting at full power."
"Then where are we starting?"
"Half power." He turned to his dragon and nodded. "Start us off easy."
Nodding and giving the rubber a hesitant sniff, the Sk- the dragon channeled a decent amount of lightning (from what looked to be his stomach) for about two seconds, then targeted the block. Eyes narrowed in concentration, he released a perfectly-aimed shot that was about twice as powerful as the ones he'd been using during our prank. When the white stream of light was gone, it was replaced by a gray stream of smoke, rising in a circle on the deck and completely hiding the block from view.
Dagur nodded, picked up a bucket of water, and doused the area, clearing the smoke and putting out any fire. We were all surprised at what we saw after he did.
The rubber itself showed no signs of damage, and it looked like the shot was mostly blocked by the block, though not completely. The charred planks below must have been the source of the smoke.
Picking up the rubber after deciding it was safe (and leaving behind a cool outline on the deck), Dagur shared a promising observation. "It's still cold."
"Well, that's a good sign."
"I guess, but a big enough rock would have done the same. Now for full power…"
I raised an eyebrow as he walked over to the railing that held the ropes keeping the ship bound to the pier.
He untied a rope that looked slightly less important than the rest and used it to suspended the block in the air, talking while he did. "I've lost count of how many times I've done this next test, since it's cool to watch. Nothing but metal makes it through without getting burned to a crisp." When he was finished tying the knot, he took a few steps back so that he was next to me again and addressed 'the second most deadly thing in the archipelagos'. In that moment, his voice held the same power and authority that I'm only used to hearing from my father. "Don't hold back this time."
Nodding, the dragon snorted, stomped his right foot on the deck three times, and channeled a lot of lightning through his body – it took almost ten seconds for him to finish. He must have really been holding back until now because his head was practically glowing by the time he was ready.
Ah hah! So that's how he does it! I was wondering how this species controlled the strength of their shots. This one in particular was eating at me because every shot type up until now has been fairly self-explanatory, even before I started looking into them. Flame-Skins use their saliva to power their shots – the more saliva, the fiercer the fire; Hum-Wings eat rocks and melt them into lava – the bigger the rock, the more they can make; Two-Heads, Two-Walkers, and Little-Biters all use gas, in one way or another, as do Shadow-Blenders – in my case, if I wanted to make my blasts more powerful after filtering gas, I'd have to add magic into the mix and suffer a sore throat. Or I could just find a convenient cloud of Two-Head gas.
Just like the others, with this dragon species, the process is pretty simple once you see what's going on. (And I'm going to have to find out the actual name of it the second I get back; avoiding the term 'Skrill' isn't fun anymore, and it's getting to the point where I might just go ahead and stop avoiding it for convenience's sake.) They operate a lot like Hum-Wings, gathering and storing a set amount of their shots in their furnace, and then using them later. It looks like Skrills (that's me giving up) absorb lightning after flying through storm clouds, then channel and use that lightning whenever they please, at whatever strength they please, to a certain limit. Right now, Dagur wants his dragon to push those limits.
I braced myself for the heat wave that comes along with every powerful dragon shot, but even as the destructive stream reached peak strength, I could only feel the same cold breeze as before. I guess lightning is like super-concentrated fire, burning what it strikes and nothing else. Now I see why Dagur wasn't worried. After a few seconds, the white light and noise dimmed, then vanished, followed by a soft thud. Now on the deck and still looking completely unscathed, apart from a cool-looking pattern of ash where the rope had been, the block sat motionless and char-free. To say that the suspending loop had been burned would be an understatement; a few singed and frayed strands were all that was left of it.
Dagur walked over, put his hand above the block for a second, then picked it up again. "It's still cold."
"I think we just found your saddle," I said, smiling.
Dagur looked like he was about to agree, but his Skrill (now that I think about it, I should probably learn how to be comfortable using either name) certainly didn't.
Glaring at the block, the angry dragon grabbed it from Dagur's hand and jumped into the sky, flying towards some storm clouds off in the distance with determination radiating from every scale on his body. A minute after he was out of sight, lightning started shooting in all directions, lighting up the dark and distant clouds and sending thunder our way.
Up until now, the Skrill's lightning had never been that loud – I bet that means he can redirect lightning, or at least direct it at himself and whatever he's holding, when he's close to the source. We watched the show for almost ten minutes, Dagur cheering and screaming the whole time, and at about the eight-minute mark, it dawned on me just how stubborn his dragon could be.
After a grand finale of five consecutive bolts, the flurry of light and sound abruptly stopped, and after a few more minutes, a very exhausted dragon flew clumsily back to the ship, the block still in one of its claws as it dropped onto the deck and collapsed.
Dagur walked over, took the block, and gave it a good glare now that his dragon no longer had the energy to do the same. "It's still cold."
He stopped glaring the moment I reminded him why we were doing this test.
"We definitely just found your saddle."
