A cool breeze from the chilling air blew against Hiccup's face as the lad slowly began opening his eyes, feeling the cold dryness within his mouth. Although he was uncertain for how long he slept, he was at least no longer exhausted.
His mind felt clear, and his body rejuvenated. It was time to wake up.
As Hiccup sat up, the lad glanced back at his surroundings and immediately noticed how foggy the environment around them had become, near to the point where he could not see the trees that surrounded the opening they were in.
'Why is it so foggy…? Is it maybe because of the cold?' he thought to himself, now wrapped up in his furred cloak.
However, the next change that Hiccup was quick to notice was the campfire. Though still lit, the flames had died down to a dim light, which was hardly enough to keep them warm. Yet at the same time, the fire itself appeared to have been dabbled with.
"Did someone mess with the fire while we were asleep?" he asked himself, now speaking aloud. "Maybe it was Arn. I'm pretty sure he was the last to go to-"
As Hiccup turned to his left however, the lad saw that the spot where Arn had previously laid in was now empty. The Alsworn heir was nowhere to be found.
"Wh- Where the Thor did he go?" he said questioningly, once again looking back at his surroundings before turning his gaze onto Toothless, who laid slumbering on his stomach, lightly snoring.
The young viking then gave the sleeping Night Fury a shove as he said in a soft voice, "Hey! Wake up!"
"Hm?"
Toothless gave off a mumbled croon as he slowly opened his eyes to gaze back at whomever it was that bumped against him, and upon seeing that it was Hiccup, the black dragon sighed before letting out a long dragon yawn.
"Did you really have to wake me up now? I was in the middle of a good dream, you know! I dreamt that I was flying with other Night Furies!"
"I wouldn't wake you up if it wasn't so important," the lad replied, once more staring back at his surroundings as if on alert. "Arn is missing. I think he may have walked off."
"You 'think'?" questioned Toothless. "I mean- anything could have happened to him you know, though let's say he did walk off. Maybe he lost his way back?"
Hiccup shook his head. "I don't care. Whatever the case, we're going out there and we're going to look for him."
"If you say so. But what about the others?"
"I've got to wake them up as well, but I won't bring them along. This search is going to be a one-man one-dragon job. Just you and I."
Toothless let warm air escape his nostrils in another sigh. "Greeeaaat."
As such, Hiccup then turned to face the sleeping riders, leaning towards them as he spoke aloud in a louder voice, "Everyone, wake up. Wake up!"
Although it took a very short moment, the riders groaned and yawned as they slowly opened their eyes, and in a flash, all five of them quickly sat up, awakened, yet to Hiccup's surprise, he even managed to wake up the other dragons.
"Gah…" sighed Snotlout as he stretched himself out against Hookfang, who let out a draconic yawn. "Did you really have to yell? Couldn't you just wake us up more gently rather than having to yell 'wake up'?"
"We're not kids, Snotlout. Have you forgotten that we're in the middle of a war? If we need to get up, then we get up," Astrid noted, staring back at the Jorgenson. "Either way, I've had plenty of rest."
Fishlegs nodded in agreement. "Same here."
"Now then," said Astrid, gazing with her eyes towards Hiccup's direction. "If I may ask, why exactly now are you waking us up?"
"Arn's not here," replied Hiccup, glancing down to his left where the lad initially sat. "I woke up and found his spot next to me empty. I fear that he may have wandered off and gotten himself lost. As such, Toothless and I have decided that we're going to go find him… alone. You guys will be staying here."
"Did you really just wake us up so that you could tell us this? You act as if we're in danger!" exclaimed Ruffnut, to which her brother added,
"Yeah! We have dragons y'know!"
"Would you or the dragons be safe if someone were to silently come up to you while you were sleeping and give you a knife in the dark?" questioned Hiccup, now crossing his arms. "Remember what happened in Daneshire? Were it not for Toothless, who knows what could've happened to us."
"Hm. You make a good point," nodded Astrid. "But what's to say that thing will show up again?"
"What's to say that it won't?" said Hiccup in response. "As long as we're here on this continent, there will always be danger around us. Almost nowhere is safe from the eyes of the enemy. Who knows if they know we're here…"
"Please don't give me the creeps," shuddered Snotlout. "It's bad enough with the fiasco we're in, with whatever that demon-monster-thing is that's on the loose, and this fog makes me feel uncomfortable."
"I wouldn't call it a demon, Snotlout. We don't even know what it is yet," sighed Astrid. "Either way, we'll keep a lookout while you're gone, high chieftain."
"Do you really have to call me high chieftain? It's bad enough that the light elves and the dwarves call me that."
Astrid chuckled, smirking back at Hiccup. "I know. I just find it funny seeing you get annoyed."
"Careful what you wish for, milady," Hiccup replied grinningly. "Now, if you guys have nothing else to say, then I'll be off. Keep yourselves warm, and stay safe."
"You too," nodded Astrid.
"Oh and… make sure to relight the fire," the lad added, before spinning to face Toothless as he asked, "You ready, bud?"
"Always."
…
"How much longer do we need to be here?" asked Snotlout as he wrapped his cloak tightly around himself. "It feels like hours have passed by."
"Snotlout, it hasn't even been an hour," stated Astrid, warming her hands against the campfire. "If that were the case, the fire would have already died down - but it's still blazing."
"She's right," nodded Fishlegs. "It hasn't been that long since Hiccup left, so calm down, alright?"
Snotlout grumbled, crossing his arms. "Well it feels that way to me..."
Ever since Hiccup had left the campsite to the riders, the air around them had started to get colder. They could feel it. As time went on, the fog became slightly denser, and the atmosphere around them felt a little more eerie. To Snotlout however, the lad felt excessively uncomfortable. Almost as if they were being watched.
"If that demon-monster-thing shows up," began Tuffnut, "Then I'll give it a flaming spear right up it's rear-end until it stops screeching like a damn boar!"
"Oh- and then you can do the same, sis, but with lightning."
Ruffnut snickered as she held up her spear, slamming the base of it into the snowy ground as a small spark of stormy magic suddenly snapped from the tip of the weapon. "When that happens, it's gonna be a good show!"
"That is if it doesn't break your spear before you even manage to hit it," stated Fishlegs, gazing back at the Twins. "You two completely smashed up your weapons when we fought that golem on the Island of Tomorrow. Though if I recall correctly, you use to wield a mace, Ruff."
"Yeah, I did," nodded Ruff. "But I soon realized that bigger ain't always better, and so I got myself a new spear like Tuff did. The good thing is that they're both made out of Gronckle iron."
"Hopefully you two will learn to take better care of them than you did with your previous weapons, then," lectured Astrid. "And try not to waste them on any jötnar. Especially you, Tuff. Remember how you nearly lost your spear to that giant back in Votunheim?"
"Pfft, yeah yeah," replied Tuffnut, waving off Astrid's lecture. "Though I can't promise that I won't throw it at any orcs or trolls."
"Me too," his sister added.
"Just as long as it isn't risky," nodded Astrid. "Agreed?"
"...Fine," they both replied in unison.
"But every twelve orcs we kill with a spear-throw is a pint of mead," added Ruffnut.
"A pint?" questioned Fishlegs in slight shock. "Both of you are going to get drunk after drinking just two!"
Tuffnut let out a chuckle. "Heh, that's the best part, Fish!"
"Oh Freya…" sighed Astrid.
As the vikings continued rambling on with their discussion, the dragons, who sat near their riders, looked back at one another with curious looks, questioning the group's strange conversation.
"Why would anyone want mead for every twelve orcs slain?" asked Meatlug, glancing back at the other dragons.
"I believe it's tradition for those two fools to do that," commented Stormfly with a squawk. "It kind of sounds like a bet..."
"Tradition? Hah, now that's funny. But just so you know, the Twins don't really give a yak about bets nowadays," replied Barf with a draconic chuckle. "They'll make these bets left and right, and then forget about them the next day."
"Are they really that brainless?" asked Hookfang, to which Belch responded with a laughing nod;
"They're still bad at counting too. Can't even keep track of ten seconds."
"I bet we can make up a better bet than those two muttonheads," commented Meatlug, to which the other dragons expressed confusing gazes.
"Uhh… Are you making a bet over making a bet?" asked Barf.
"What-? No! I'm just saying that I think we can make a better bet than them!" grunted the Gronckle.
"Ohhh! You could've just said so," gargled Belch in laughter. "Who wants to go first, then?"
"I'll go first," huffed Hookfang as he straightened himself out, clearing his fiery throat with a quick huff. "And my bet is that the fire will die out before we leave. If it does, each of you will owe me three large salmon, and you'll have to catch them yourselves."
"Don't be ridiculous, Hookfang," squawked Stormfly. "We just lit it up not long ago."
"Hey, it's a bet. And if I lose, no harm no foul, you won't have to do anything. Does that sound good to you all?"
Just as Hookfang spoke those words however, the brightly lit campfire, which crackled and sparked with its warm orange flames, suddenly blew out in a flash like a gust in the wind, leaving only the cold northern air to envelope them…
...Except it was not put out by any wind or breeze, but rather by itself. As such, everyone's eyes fell to it, staring with bafflement.
"...Wh- What the Hel just happened?" asked Snotlout, giving the others a glance. "Was that you, Fishlegs?"
"What? That wasn't me! How could I have done that?" exclaimed the larger viking.
"Maybe one of you guys just farted," stated Ruffnut, acting as if the whole thing was some mere joke. "I bet it was you, bro."
"Ugh no way!" responded Tuffnut in denial. "I only fart in my sleep! Maybe it was YOU who put it out."
"Guys, I don't think any of us here are to blame," stated Astrid, whilst inspecting the burnt out campfire. "But something tells me that this wasn't a coincidence. It wasn't blown out by the wind, thus the question is, how does a fire put itself out like that?"
"...Something's wrong here."
"Looks like I win the bet!" laughed Hookfang. "Each of you owe me three-"
"Wait!" the Nadder interrupted, lifting her gaze from the fire. "Is it me… or is everything getting darker?"
The dragons all raised their heads up as they stood to their paws and feet, turning their gazes up towards the skies as the clouds above them suddenly began to darken, yet they knew not how it was possible. It was as if the sun itself was put out like a candle, and whilst this all happened, the fog around them had also started to slightly thicken.
Soon, even the riders noticed this occurrence. As such, a feeling of dread washed over them as they began looking back at their surroundings, feeling as if they were being watched.
Something was definitely wrong.
"W- What is this!?" shouted Snotlout. "What is going on!?"
"HSSS!"
As if spawned from Helheim, the demonic scream that the riders had heard back at Daneshire had once again returned, filling their ears with a cold horror that forced them to their feet. Their dragons on the other hand became frightened stiff. As such, their wild instincts had suddenly kicked in.
Without any second thoughts, the dragons turned their backs to the riders and immediately ran off into the foggy forest, not looking back as their animal-like instincts took control.
"Hookfang!" called out Snotlout. "Where are you going!?"
"MEATLUG!" bellowed Fishlegs, watching as his dragon ran off swiftly like a horse. Even if he attempted to stop her, there was nothing that he, nor the others, could have done.
They were all alone.
"Oh no, oh no…" Fishlegs mumbled to himself. "This isn't happening. This can't be happening! First it manages to find us, and now this!?"
Astrid let out a shakened sigh, gazing out towards the foggy forest as a breath of cold air escaped her lungs. "It was looking for us all of this time… but without our dragons, there's nowhere we can run."
Snotlout let out a light whimper of worry, now scared out of his wits. "I guess we're going to die here, aren't we?"
"...No," said Astrid angrily, taking up her axe as she made her way forward in front of the group, clutching it within the tight grip of her hands.
"We fight."
By Astrid's word, the rest of the vikings grabbed ahold of their weapons, making their way to her side as they fell into a defensive position, with Fishlegs and Snotlout on her right, and the Twins on her left, all at the ready.
Their gazes then fell upon the forest, where the fog seemed to be at its thickest. For a moment, nothing seemed to come out. The air only began to feel colder and colder by the second as the vikings waited to see what it truly was that stood behind those woods. Soon enough however, the sound of metal stomping against the snowy ground finally caught their ears, and from the distorted trees, they caught eye of the nightmare.
"HRAAAGH!"
Four pairs of glowing eyes came into their view, colored green, crimson, purple, and teal, like haunting lights in the darkness. The young vikings were able to make out the shapes of four juggernaut-like figures, large and tall, steadily advancing upon them in a tight formation, as well as in an unnatural, perfect unison.
But upon squinting their eyes for a better look, the vikings all felt a squeeze of intimidation run down their throats.
The four figures were armored in heavy black armor, and wore ripped kilts that extended from the waist downwards. By their sides they carried large dark blades, engraved with runes that glowed with the colors of their cold, wicked eyes.
Nonetheless, Astrid and the others knew now that what they were up against were no demons, for their horned helms gave it all away.
They were dark vikings, unlike any they had seen before...
As the four blackened warriors came to an abrupt halt, the group took several steps back from the nightmarish view that had spawned before them. For most of them, a mix of fear and defiance coursed through their blood, and thus, they were reluctant to even make the first strike.
But Astrid on the other hand stood her ground, making an effort to shrug off her fear. For years she had upheld the title of Fearless Astrid Hofferson, and she intended to see it kept through.
To that, the warrioress took ten paces forward, straightening her posture as she made herself known to them.
"You stand before the Wings of Midgard, dark vikings," she spoke, keeping herself steeled as best she could. "If you think we're afraid of you, then you're terribly mistaken."
The four dark vikings looked back at one another. To them, her brave act seemed like nothing but a joke... and yet they gave no reaction, for it did not matter. To this, the green-eyed dark viking stepped forward, and almost immediately, Astrid made the assumption that he was their leader, for the top of his horned helm was shaped like a crown.
But when he spoke, she felt her walls crumbling down. Any semblance of fearlessness within her now began to fall apart.
"Gah! You fool…" spoke the Lord of the Four. "We can see through your eyes. You attempt to stand tall as if you're fearless, but do you not see the torment that fills your friends' faces? They have the right to be afraid, because fear is what we are. Even now I can feel your own fear taking hold of you, Astrid Hofferson. Your display of courage is nothing but a façade."
Astrid's face turned pale upon hearing him utter her full name. She swallowed unnervingly, and proceeded to take a single step back, with her eyes glancing between the other dark vikings and their leader.
"W- Who are you...? What are you?!"
"We are the Dark Master's most loyal servants. By many, we are known as the Four, but you will not live to remember us."
The Lord of the Four raised his runic blade to meet the front of his right shoulder, gripping the hilt with both of his gauntleted hands. With that, the other dark vikings made the same motion as they marched into formation, with two of them flanking their lord, and the other following him from behind.
With a slow pace, they steadily began advancing onto Astrid.
The lass shuddered, taking another few steps back as the Four came closer and closer. With where she stood, magic seemed to be her only choice in combating them, for she knew not how powerful these dark servants were.
"I won't go down without a fight!" she shouted, raising out her left hand as she prepared to conjure a fiery spell towards the Lord of the Four…
...But to her surprise, nothing happened.
Not a single spark of flame manifested in her palm, and no matter what she did, no matter how much anger she tried to muster, she could not call upon a single spell. She even resorted to casting storm magic instead, but with where her mind was, she could not think straight. Once again, nothing happened.
"Guys, I can't cast anything!" Astrid called out to the others. "Help me out!"
"I- I can't cast anything either!" replied Snotlout as he attempted to summon up lightning, but saw no success. His mind was as clouded as the fog that surrounded him, and the same went for Fishlegs and the Twins, who could not conjure up any form of fire or storm.
The Wings of Midgard were rendered magicless.
"What do we do!? Oh gods, what do we do!?" cried Fishlegs, as if he were on the verge of falling apart.
Astrid raised her axe. "Everyone get close to me! NOW- HNGH!"
But before she could finish, the Lord of the Four swiftly extended his left hand. A sudden beam of chaotic magic came hurling towards Astrid from his metallic palm, and through some strange force, the mighty Hofferson found herself pinned to her knees, unable to stand.
"W- What are you doing!? LET ME GO! HELP!"
Upon hearing Astrid's cry for help, the others attempted to run towards her, but in an instant reaction, the rest of the Four sent forth streams of wicked magic resembling the colors of their glowing eyes, sending the young vikings down to the ground.
With no obstacle in his way, the Lord of the Four swiftly advanced towards Astrid, lowering his runic blade to the side as he kept her pinned down with his chaotic magic; all the others could do was watch, helplessly.
Astrid looked up with horror as the dark viking halted in front of her, who gazed down at her with his blade now raised to the side. But what she saw there and then of the dark viking horrified her to her core.
Claws of black metal protruded from his finger-tips as an aura of black ichor surrounded him. Upon his helmet, a terrifying maw smiled down at her, and thin black irises formed upon his blank eyes, rolling forward to stare down at her own. With this, all the sounds in the world became silent; she could only make out her own voice, now muffled, as well as a bass-like sound that boomed in her ears, accompanied by ringing.
Everything she saw before her... it seemed like a nightmare made manifest.
"Freya! Help me!" she whimpered, struggling to escape what she saw. She called out for her friends, but could not hear their voices, and for the first time in her life, she knew what it was to truly fear.
In that moment, she was no longer Fearless Astrid Hofferson.
"No OnE cAn HeLp yOu, HoFfErSoN. FoR yOu, oNlY tHe AbYsS aWaItS," the Lord of the Four uttered, his voice resonating with far greater evil than before, and with precision, he stabbed the tip of his blackened blade into the side of her chest.
Astrid Hofferson screamed. It was not a roar, but a literal, wailing scream. She cried out louder than she ever had before, shrieking in pain as the runic blade that impaled her began to glow green with chaotic energy, as if it were draining her.
For Astrid, it was the most agonizing thing she had ever felt in her life, and for nearly half a minute, she could not stop screaming; yet it was a scream she could not hear, for the booming and ringing blotted out all noises in the world.
...But then, she heard it; a voice.
"GRAAAGH!"
Hiccup let out a bellowing roar as the young viking came flying out of the woods with Inferno lit, lunging himself in front of Astrid and taking the dark vikings by surprise, forcing them to back into a defensive position.
The moment this happened, all sounds returned to Astrid's ears like a flood, and the Lord of the Four's horrific illusion faded from her eyes.
Simultaneously, the spell that held the group down broke, but as soon as the Four lined up, two more figures suddenly jumped out from the forests. This time, it was Arn, with his torch still in hand, and Toothless, who let out a screeching roar.
The two made their way to Hiccup's side, and as they did, Toothless let loose several plasma blasts on the flanks of the dark vikings, setting fire to nearby bushes and tree stumps that began blazing like big bonfires.
"HRRGGHHNN!"
The Four let out their piercing demonic screams, gazing angrily back at Hiccup with their backs to the woods.
"Go back to your master!" yelled Hiccup. "You do not belong here!"
"Fools!" the Lord of the Four roared. "This is only the beginning between us! When next we meet, it will be WE who will-"
"Shut up already!" shouted Arn as he swiftly raised his torch, and sent it hurling towards the Lord of the Four with a strong flick of his wrist, striking his crown directly.
The flames from the torch bursted through the helm's eye-holes, and like fire and oil, the dark viking was set aflame from beneath his armor.
"GAAAAAH!"
The other three dark vikings quickly backed away from their leader, not wanting to be touched by the searing flames, and like so, the dark warrior fled into the forest, leaving his servants to gaze back in shock at Hiccup, Arn, and Toothless.
"Come closer, and you will burn too!" exclaimed Hiccup, swinging his flaming sword around in a threatening manner. "NOW BEGONE!"
"This isn't over! We will return!" screeched the teal-eyed dark viking as he and the other black-cladded warriors turned their backs to the group, before fleeing into the foggy woods.
Hiccup let out a sigh of relief as they disappeared from their sight, to which he then sheathed his sword. But the sudden sound of whimpering and crying brought him back to reality as he turned around to see the others gathered around Astrid, who laid on the ground in severe pain.
"H… Hiccup…" she said weakly, breathing heavily for air.
"Astrid!" he gasped as he, Arn, and Toothless immediately made haste towards her, and as soon as the lad was beside her, he knelt down to his knees, softly placing his right hand upon her cheek. But upon feeling her, his eyes immediately widened.
"She- She's freezing cold..." he said, glancing back at the others. "Colder than ice! W- What happened to her!?"
"She was stabbed in the side of the chest," replied Fishlegs frantically. "I don't know what kind of sword it was, but it had evil-looking runes on it."
"A runic blade," gasped Arn, motioning towards the wound. "Dark vikings and orc warlocks wield them to drain the life out of people. They are the only weapons crafted by the Dark Legions that can make a wound like this... However, that's not the worst of it; if we don't tend to her soon, then there's a possibility that she will die."
"What!?" gasped Hiccup, his voice suddenly beginning to crack. "A- Are you telling me she's dying!?"
Arn shrugged. "I said it's a possibility, but I'm not certain yet. I need to see if I can tend to the wound, as well as determine how bad the effects are. Fishlegs, are you familiar with making potions and antidotes?"
"I am, but- what about our dragons?" asked Fishlegs. "The dark vikings scared them off."
"We'll find them soon," replied Arn. "For now, healing Astrid is our main priority. I have an idea for a potion we could make to stop its effects, but I can only pray to Odin that this will work…"
Hiccup sighed lightly as he stared back at Astrid, gently running his hand across her cheek.
"Hold on, Astrid. You're going to be okay- I hope…"
Before closing off, I would like to make one more quick note.
A couple people have pointed out that the Four seem to be like the Nazgûl from LOTR. To an extent, they are heavily inspired by the Nazgûl, but as you have read from this chapter, the big difference is in their general appearance. So to those who were curious about these characters, there you go.
Either way, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!