It had been a while now since he and Wreckage had left Berk. Flying towards the island where he had first met the Vikings, and where he had been assigned to retrieve the eggs, he had found the Hunters gone. Most likely they had taken the eggs with them.

Well, crap.

Alphas turned in the direction of home to report back, and flew on in silence. A few minutes later however, the clouds began to ripple above him. A head poked out and grinned at him. He smiled back.

"There you are! I was getting just a little bit worried. I mean, I know you can handle yourself, but even then after so long I thought that maybe-"

"Come now, if I'm not me then who am I?" Alphas asked him, tilting his head.

"You're an Arcanum!" the head in the clouds suggested brightly.

"True. Bad news though."

"Oh?"

"Got ambushed. I escaped and left them something to take care of, but the eggs are gone now."

"That is bad. What do we do now?"

"Do I look like I know?"

"You always know," the head said completely seriously. "You're you, after all."

"Don't flatter me like that, you're not getting anything from it."

The head grinned. "Worth a try, isn't it?"

Alphas grunted.

The head and the body it was attached to came out of the clouds. A man Alphas' age, with the same kind of clothes on as he had. His dragon was sky blue with white patterns, an elongated body with large wings and a very smooth, thin head. The tail curled and whipped around to pat Alphas on the head.

Cloud Eaters were very affectionate. Alphas smiled and raised a hand to the dragon's snout.

"Hello, Spiral," he said softly. The dragon crooned and nosed along his hand. He gave it a final, lingering touch, and then retracted his hand.

Alphas sat up straight, caressing the top of Wreckage's head, and looked at the new arrival, opening his mouth to speak.

Something small and black whizzed past between their dragons' wings. Both veered away from the unknown projectile, screeching in sudden reptilian rage. Both riders looked at each other and nodded. Alphas took out his sword and readied his hands, although he was unsure of what his sword could do, while his companion reached for an axe on his back.

Something small and dark arced up from the ocean mists and bore down on them. The arm of the rider on the blue dragon jerked and a sheet of metal flicked out. A compacted shield.

He deflected the projectile with a clang and reached backwards as it bounced off. The arrow was sleek and black with one red line spiraling downwards. He looked at Alphas, and they both knew what it meant.

Some part of Myre's forces were nearby, and they knew exactly where they were.

Taking out his dagger, Alphas tapped Wreckage on the neck with it.

"Ready," he said, and that was all it took. Wreckage roared that grating growl, his mouth steaming, and beat his powerful wings in the air. A little way away, a guttural snarl came from Spiral, and the air around his head began to ripple.

Both riders and their dragon were now ready. Alphas tapped Wreckage again.

"Dive," came the order this time.

Both dragons went into a steep dive, Spiral wrapping his long wings around himself and speeding downwards, Wreckage just folding his wings into pointed arrows. As they got closer to the sea, the ships came into view.

There was shouting and a volley of arrows as the people on the ships took notice. The dragons evaded, and fired. A constant stream of burning blue from Wreckage, and blasts of super-heated air from Spiral. Spiral went lower, close to the churning waters now, and Wreckage crashed into the side of one of the ships. It went down just as Spiral came up and fired a thin jet of boiling water at the soldiers on another vessel. Spiral landed and the wings opened wide, his rider dismounting and rushing the soldiers that hadn't been knocked off by Spiral's wings. Wreckage landed on another, and Alphas began to paint his sword shining red.

Then the sky screamed.

A purple shockwave hit the base of the ship's mast, and swept Alphas and everyone else off their feet while toppling the pillar. Soldiers dived out of the way, and Alphas rolled sideways just in time, the mast crashing down and splintering the wood right next to where his hand rested.

He glared upwards at the black shape that swooped downwards like the shadow of a shooting star. A stream of sparks and liquid fire burned another ship, and smouldering rock cooled on another one, the wood combusting around it.

These Berkians really didn't know how to do this.

Alphas put his hand to his mouth and whistled sharply. All heads turned his way, and he saw the Berkians pause.

"Take the people! Not the ships!" he yelled.

"Who's that?" a curious voice asked behind him. He whirled around to see Spiral and his rider flapping silently by the vessel he was on.

"Berkians. They're with dragons now."

"When did that happen?"

"I have no idea. Just go with it."

There was a panicked shriek, and he turned to see the Gronckle and the Nightmare's riders surrounded, their dragons lying lethargic behind them.

"Wreckage!" he roared, and the black dragon immediately heeded his call, scooping him up and speeding across the water to the other ship.

Alphas and the Night Fury rider landed at the same time, leathery, batlike wings hanging loosely from… 'Hiccup', was that his name?

"…Hey Alphas."

"Shut up and fight."

Hiccup brandished his flaming sword like a drunkard holding a mug of wine. While their enemies backed away at the fiery sight for now, they would soon realize that the boy had no idea how to use a blade.

Alphas took advantage of their fear and leapt at them, drawing blood with every stroke. The panic added to their fear, and they scrambled over each other to get away, falling and tripping and giving him ample time to add their names to the list of the dead.

Hiccup could only watch as Alphas scythed through them in a flurry of movement, and the sight of all that blood, the mangled bodies, the reddening, dripping wood of the deck made him feel something rising in him. He turned and threw up over the side of the ship. When he turned back, Alphas stood there, sword held loosely, dripping scarlet down the length of the blade. Hiccup tried not to look at what lay behind him.

Alphas raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" he said. Hiccup looked at him, bewildered.

"Are you telling me that you're uncomfortable with violence?"

"It's terrible," he choked out.

"It's necessary," Alphas responded, and turned away to see another group of men coming at him. He held out his hand to Hiccup.

"Sword," he demanded. Hiccup quickly handed it over. He held it up, flipped it in his hand so it was facing backwards, stepped into the group and swung in a wide arc.

Men with cauterized throats faced him a few seconds later. Hiccup felt sick to his stomach. He'd never had to deal with something this violent, this creatively brutal, and here he was, being forced to confront these things in a matter of minutes.

Alphas handed him back his sword without even looking at him, and smiled from the corner of his mouth.

"You'll be needing it in a minute."

In the rapid confusion, Snotlout and Fishlegs had been completely forgotten about, and had now disappeared from sight but returned to memory. Hiccup looked around.

"Hey-"

There was a clang, and Hiccup fell forward, his face smushing into the wood, as a man in tight, dark green clothing stood there, a very long knife in hand.

Alphas whirled the moment he heard the sound, and found himself frozen, his sword stuck in the act of rising as cold silver flashed beneath his chin.

The man regarded him carefully, not a trace of fear in his eyes.

"Yes," he said. "Myre will be very happy with you."

"And you are?" Alphas asked icily, taking care not to speak too fast.

"My name is Caird," said Caird. "I am one of Myre's generals, and you are mine now."

"No the hell I'm not," Alphas snarled. Caird tilted his head, a slight trace of amusement in his eyes.

"Well, if you're completely sure that we kill your companions and make you eat them for meals, that's fine with us," he shrugged. "Your dragons, of course, will be fitted and given to Myre. A Black Angel would make a lovely addition to his forces."

Alphas didn't speak. That was all the answer Caird needed. He smiled.

"That's a good boy. Give me the dangerous knife and then I'll take you away."

Alphas dropped the sword and his hands blurred, already raising a finger to his palm to make the two symbols meet. Caird caught him by the wrists, and pulled Alphas' hands behind his back, pulling him forward as well, and knocked his forehead into his face. Alphas was stunned for a moment, and Caird took the opportunity to punch him in the face, knocking him backwards. Before Alphas could move, Caird stepped on both his arms in a strange position, legs splayed like a human crab. Another man, probably under his command, came and slipped two brown leather bands with metal studs onto Alphas' wrists. Caird jumped off and hauled Alphas to his feet, turning him around with his hands behind his back.

"And how are your little bracelets going to stop me?" Alphas growled.

"First of all, they're armbands, not bracelets. Second, they bind your magic."

Alphas paled. "So the metal…?"

"Is not for show," Caird finished. "There's binding sigils carved onto them. I believe you know why leather is not suitable?"

"It can't hold its shape," Alphas replied distantly, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

"Precisely. How clever you are!"

Caird pushed him down a short series of stairs, and shoved him into a small, bare room. The iron gates locked, and then Alphas realized it was a prison. Caird turned away.

"I want two guards here at all times to attend to the prisoners!" he yelled. There was a collective shout of affirmation from above. Caird continued on his way without a second thought for the people in the cells. Looking across from him, Alphas saw the Berkians, all in their own individual cells.

Hiccup waved to him. He seemed to be the one to take initiative. "Hey."

"If you would spend less time greeting people and acting innocent and more time actually being efficient we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Okay, first of all, cut it out," the blonde woman stepped in. "Do you think we wanted this either? Do you think that you're the only one here who does anything? We've saved hundreds, even thousands of dragons over the past few years. You have no right to tell us that we weigh you down because you're not special, you know."

Alphas absorbed the fiery burst of temper, and then looked at her with the coldest expression he knew he could create, and her face fell for a moment.

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped. Alphas grinned a mirthless smile.

"If you want statistics, do you know how many dragons I alone have saved? From trappers like the people on deck?" He paused for a moment for effect. "I counted every single ship I burned and how many dragons were on board. And counting the ones that I got a while ago, I've set four hundred and eighty-two ships on fire, and saved seven thousand, nine hundred and one dragons. On my own." He smirked, but there was no real malice or arrogance behind the expression.

"All on my own. So tell me," he said, lowering his voice, "How does that compare to you?"

There were noises upstairs before they could respond, and then boots stomped on the floor above, knocking dust free from the planks. One of the hunters came down, dragging a rope behind him, and to that rope was attached a pair of hands with leather bands around them. Alphas relaxed, just a little. He'd been afraid, but at least he knew that he was okay now.

The guard slammed him into a cell and stomped upstairs again. Alphas jerked a thumb at him and looked at the new arrival to the jail.

"Well he definitely didn't have a good day."

There was a laugh from a few cells over.

"Hey, who is this?" the short Viking asked, hands folded over his chest. Alphas frowned at him.

"What's your name again?"

"It's Snotlout! Jeez, it's not that hard to remember. Firt Dar en no you," he said, mumbling the last bit. Alphas didn't catch a word of that part. He sighed and sat down, making himself comfortable in the cell. As an afterthought, he looked down at his waist. They'd taken his dagger, but not his book. He didn't remember them taking the dagger. Well, at least he still had the book. That would be useful if they managed to escape.

"Well, since it looks like we'll be here for some time," he sighed, "meet Omegas. My twin brother."

There was silence.

"I'm the elder," he added.

"YES!" the two dirty blonde long-haired Vikings yelled out at the same time. "We finally meet another set of twins!"