Author's Notes

This was originally going to be chapter 72, but there was a snag. The original chapter 71 started with a scene that explained much of what has been going on in this story, and provided some background on what is to come. However, my beta advised it was at such a remove from the story, and unclear on what parts of it were important going forward, that it just felt uncomfortably wedged in.

Therefore, the second half of that chapter got added to 70, and the first half will be available in Gift Wrapping as additional content. Everything of importance has been integrated into the scenes here and next chapter so it's certainly not required reading, but it's a fun scene all in all.

On a personal note, I've finally finished my qualification as a data scientist, so that's a lot of weight off my back. I'm going to keep studying, but in smaller courses that aren't quite as heavy going. Which is good, because... I've got no buffer again. Well, I had a pretty good run with weekly updates, and if I do need to go back to fortnightly it's not going to be the eight months or whatever it was last time, plus I've got some Gift Wrapping stuff I can bridge the gaps with. We'll see how we go, anyway, after this one there are two more chapters in this act...

The nest was sleeping. It was still before dawn, the faint light of the moon and stars giving a beautiful glow to the ice walls and ceiling, and silence prevailed.

But something had woken him. Alpha lifted his head, water streaming from his tusks to splash into the lake, and tasted the air. It carried nothing unusual. The water was still, only disturbed by his movement, the waves rippling away from him to roll up the shore and splash against the rock. He had lived in this nest for longer than he cared to measure – several hundred years, at the very least – and knew everything of it, from the layout of the stone beneath the ice to the shifting currents swirling beneath it. There was nothing out of place.

A name. His name, a token of another era, a title that he had shed long ago. He was no longer that name. Now he was only Alpha, to this nest. And yet, that forgotten name hung in the night.

Son? he sent out, the antennae on his face quivering with the message, broadcasting it, not so much a word as a concept, and conditionally tied to that individual; no other would hear. But there was silence. He tried the same for his son's mate, but again, no reply.

He hummed sadly and settled back into his pool, the water engulfing his lower half. Thinking of his son had been optimistic, he already knew him dead. One of the Nightlancers had confirmed it, had witnessed it. Over fifteen years had passed since his last visit, when he normally took no longer than two – or four, when he needed to renew his body – so it had come as no surprise. But even still… it was difficult to accept.

Those two Nightlancers were all he had left of him… He would protect them here, keep them safe. Humanity had destroyed the world once before, and he lamented that they had survived it. They spread too quickly, took too much, and never with a thought for what they were taking from. Even he had been the same, before civilisation had been consumed by the ground and swallowed by the sea.

They had remembered some of their knowledge, too. Their weapons were already advanced for their era, and improving rapidly. How long did he have before they threatened even him? His vessel was strong, immense, but not invulnerable. They were already probing his waters, learning his strengths and weaknesses. He was bringing the dragons in closer, all but the most territorial opting to simply join his nest, but one day, he would fall. It might be ten years, or a hundred, but it would happen.

He dreaded that day. He had lived a long life, but was not ready to feel the peace of death, to learn what was beyond the veil, if anything. He regretted how he had achieved his immortality, but he and his son had put it behind them, once the dust had settled and trees started growing from the ashes.

How exactly the designs had come to be in the possession of the Nightlancers was a complete mystery, and how they had managed to read it even in such a primitive way, significantly more so. Given how much personal information was on it, a lifetime of work, not to mention probably an account of the fateful past, the end of an era, it was best forgotten. He dreaded to think what the humans could do with any amount of the information it contained; one described component had already been a significant contributor to ending the world once. Not that they could do anything with it yet; the technology to condense energy into tangible form did not yet exist, but it would one day.

He was so tired of thinking about humans. If only they had perished. He could have lived here in peace, in this nest of his son's creations, exploring the deep seas and just watching the world turn, for as long as he wanted.

That name echoed again, this time without the veil of slumber to hide behind, and his eyes narrowed. Announce yourself! he demanded, and the nest erupted into roars and cries, but he was not listening for that. The chilling response, that of smug amusement overlaid with an interfering signal that would prevent any commands from being properly received, was far more pressing than a few grumpy dragons.

A staccato rhythm picked up, beating through the ice, faint and inaudible over the confused and concerned dragons but distinct and undeniable, tremors rippling through the rock and water. There were only two dragons with that kind of firepower, and only one of those was capable of the infrasonic communication he was hearing, but that was not something that could simply be learned. He hesitated, wracked with indecision, while dragons flocked to the air and whirled around the nest.

They were flying out, he saw, flocking for the exits. To flee or to fight? He did not know. The thought of escaping crossed his mind, but he dismissed it almost immediately – the others may be lesser, short-lived, but they were still lives. He couldn't abandon them. And he definitely couldn't abandon the two Nightlancers.

Whatever was out there, it had to know he was here, and what he was capable of. They would be expecting him. Rushing out would be foolish, but he had to think quickly.

Dreamer woke with a loud bark, along with Wanderer and apparently every dragon of the nest. His head immediately felt like a swirling jar of oil for having woken so abruptly, and he pawed at it with a groan.

"Not good way for wake," Wanderer groaned, presumably pawing at his own head by the movements Dreamer could feel.

"What," he was interrupted by a devastating yawn, clamping his eyes closed and, once it finally relented, leaving him wondering whether he really was awake or not. "What happen…?" He was deciding he wasn't much of a morning dragon, now that he was adjusting to his body constantly trying to wake him with its perpetual excitement. Or a day dragon, really; it wasn't as if the sky-fire provided any warmth here.

Wanderer's response was to finish his own yawn, then drag himself onto Dreamer's chest with another groan, snuggling up under his wing.

Dreamer shoved him, feeling too lethargic to even come close to achieving anything… but the ongoing racket echoing through the nest was slowly becoming more and more alarmed, and his tail-fins on the ground and back-fins against the charred wood were picking up foreboding vibrations like a Jötunn stomping towards them.

He needed not say anything, Wanderer had to be sensing the same and possibly also heeding his more insistent shoving, and in an instant they were bounding through the corridors to the shelf outside, heavy footsteps hot on their tails.

Claws scraped on the ice as they emerged outside to a sea of black, Dreamer exhaling sharply and staring with wide eyes at the water covered in ships of all sizes. The white snow leading down to the water was almost entirely hidden by throngs of soldiers, many standing in orderly ranks and hundreds more setting up contraptions of every kind. He could only guess at the purpose of some of it-

A flash of light preceded a distant explosion, and he just barely saw something hurtle up to the nest to impact an ice spire. There was a fiery explosion as the spire shattered, falling away from the nest and crumbling against other spikes and eventually the ground below.

There were… just so many of them! Just the people on the ground had to outnumber the entire Archipelago, even the Greater Archipelago, and that wasn't even accounting for how many people were still on the ships!

A short scrape and a grieved, terrified wail sounded moments before Dam slid to a halt beside him, holding his wing for support while her boots slipped on the ice in her haste. He could only spare her a glance, but her expression mirrored his own, that of shock and helplessness. Neither of them could make a dent in this army. They could have had a week's notice and still not been able to scratch it!

Dragons flitted around, flashes of colour stark against the oppressive dullness of the invaders, but with no cohesion, no uniformity. They were just wild dragons protecting their home, while these invaders were organised and trained. He watched as contraptions sprung to life, trapping dragons in a multitude of ways either by luring them in or snagging them as they passed, and that in addition to the bolas and nets firing up into the fray. And it was a fray, he saw, because there were more of those armoured dragons, easily distinguished by their dull colours compared to the vibrant ones of the nest's dragons; it was as if the life had been sucked out of them, replaced with only grim commitment to their masters.

"Valka!" Sire shouted, heavily trotting up behind them. "What do you want to do?"

"We have to save the dragons!" she immediately responded. Dreamer almost barked incredulously, what were they supposed to do against all that!?

But then he caught her meaning. She didn't mean to fight the army, just to free the dragons that had been captured. "Break their things," he snarled to Wanderer, "free nest-kin."

Wanderer barked affirmative and leaped into the air, but Dam's hand on Dreamer's wing had him hesitate. "Be careful," she pleaded, staring into his eyes with so much fear he was taken aback that she wasn't demanding he run and hide.

He chuffed confidently and nuzzled her before taking to the air, already scoping out targets. They could not defeat the army, but perhaps if they destroyed enough of the traps then it wouldn't be an issue. The dragons had been lured in, he saw, big domes each containing a restrained dragon. Most were already closed, some with wings or tails protruding from the jagged teeth at angles that had him cringe, but a pawful remained open, drawing in dragons to be shot down by nets and eventually clamping down on the one fortunate enough to break through.

There was little he could do about those, if they were even remotely well-designed they would not reopen by just breaking the handle, and he could not land or stay in one place to do more. He was fast and precise, but small and vulnerable compared to the hulking armoured dragons bulling their way through the waves of defenders.

He dove to pick up some speed, adding some punch to the small fireball that left his maw; he had to go sparingly, there were a lot of targets. It hit the arm of what looked like a catapult pinning a dragon under the end, snapping it in half and rendering the entire thing useless. The newly freed dragon scrambled to its paws, and then Dreamer lost sight as he banked away, spotting Wanderer and pulling up with him.

"Bad Long-Paw alpha here?" Wanderer asked, baring his teeth at the scene below.

"I not see him," Dreamer replied, scanning the ground. "Leave him. Free nest-kin. He not matter now."

Wanderer chuffed, and then they were swerving away from each other and the armoured dragon barging towards them.

The trouble was that there were too many targets; this wasn't precision work, he was trying to use a chisel to cut down a tree. A line of suspicious box-like structures was just begging for a Nightmare to rain fire over it, but he couldn't direct the dragons, couldn't explain what they needed to be doing to be most effective. How useful it would have been to have the other riders! But there was no sense hoping for-

Without warning, a Zippleback suddenly streaked across the shore, leaving a wide trail of gas in its wake. It was lit in moments, what with all the fire raining down everywhere, and set a huge swath of traps aflame – yes! Dreamer roared in elation, scanning the battlefield as more and more dragons began targeted attacks, demonstrating abilities he hadn't even heard of before.

All directed by his dam, he noticed, in her full battle gear, twirling her staff from where she stood atop Cloudjumper's back.

That took a lot of pressure off him, and he exhaled and examined the fight with a fresh perspective. Larger, more pressing targets were now his concern, anything the other dragons struggled to get near.

The three-pronged ballista tower, with three massive double-stringed launchers firing a steady stream of nets, was a good example, and he climbed high to drop a big fireball directly down on top of it, shattering the central structure and rendering the whole thing useless. Amidst the chaos he heard the crack of Wanderer's fire somewhere further along the shore, taking out something else, so he scanned for targets in the opposite direction with a focus on freeing any trapped dragons. They couldn't win, but he had a good feeling they would at least send these invaders packing.

A series of earth-shattering cracks startled him into pulling out early from his next attack run, dragging his attention back to the nest itself – it was collapsing, an entire section just crumbling into white powder and gleaming chunks of ice. He stared in horror, unsure what it meant, until Alpha emerged from the cloud with a fuming mad roar. In moments, he had covered half the shoreline with an astonishing ice breath that seemed to freeze on contact with the ground, bouncing up into the familiar ice spikes that usually covered the nest.

Suddenly, a large portion of the army was walled off from reinforcements, from retreat, the supporting weapons from the ships unable to provide cover. Dreamer bayed gleefully; in an instant, this had gone from dire to feasible.

He quickly remembered the metal tubes, what they might do to Alpha, and banked hard to pull into a shallow dive. He knew he could not damage the weapons themselves, but the structure that supported them would be much more susceptible to his fire. His shot impacted the side of one of the weapons, and he could see it listing even before the smoke cleared; under the wood appeared to be a big metal wheel, but it was thinner and had snapped off with the force.

Wanderer got to the second before he did, the blue light lancing down through the collage of reds and greens, striking next to it – and the whole thing abruptly exploded, erupting in a massive fireball that was far larger than it should have been and leaving everything within twenty paces in a smoking ruin. That had to have been the ammo. Destructive, but effective.

Seeing no more of the weapons still firing, he picked out his next target and plotted his course around the fighting.

"Help those in the cages!" Skyreaching, Valka, shouted to her husband. He delivered one last punch to the armoured dragon he and Skullcrusher were tussling with, snarling and gouging at each other mid-air, and then they tossed it over and peeled off to do as she'd asked.

The armoured dragon, now upside down, was unable to right its fall before impacting the ground below, hard. She could spare no time to think about it, and kept waving her staff, Cloudjumper bringing her into the paths of various dragons for her to get their attention and direct them.

A spin and a sweep, and Zipplebacks were rolling flames through clusters of invaders. A hooked motion and a pointed jab, and a handful of Nadders blocked reinforcements from reclaiming a cluster of net launchers. Keep the bigger dragons in the air fighting off their tortured counterparts, the more nimble dragons focused on the humans and their weapons. These were not words nor signals, they had not trained nor planned for any of this, she just used what came to mind and the dragons inexplicably understood her; they were her kin, after all.

She heard the titanous footfalls, the scrabbling and breaking, minutes before the alpha finally appeared. He broke through the wall of the nest as if it were made of paper, sweeping motions of his tusks simply brushing the ice aside, and then his icy breath sprayed out over the shore to cut the entire battlefield in half.

Most of the dragons were now free, but not all of them. With the invaders now distracted and many panicking, she directed dragons to the last few active traps in the shadow of the new ice wall and directed Cloudjumper down to assist directly. Stoick, the amazing man, was bulling through Drago's forces as effectively as his big dragon, the both of them shoving man and beast aside in the single-minded pursuit of their goal. They didn't have long, but he undoubtedly knew that already.

Cloudjumper landed heavily with a gout of swirling fire, consigning several of Drago's men to a slow and painful death as she rolled off the ground, her deadly staff already whirring through the five men facing her down. She had modelled it off a few dragons she had observed, slowly refined it over the years into an instrument that was familiar to dragons, with its sharp teeth and hooked claws, but also something frightfully deadly.

The teeth down the back of the head found exposed throats and arteries with deceptively precise strikes. The hooked claws on either end found the seams in armour, stabbing through to points the wearers thought protected. And for the last two men, who left her no opening for such attacks, it worked just as well as a bludgeon, cracking open the head of one even through his helmet and leaving her free to leap over the second and yank the hooked head of the staff into his neck.

She jerked the weapon free as she rode the man's shoulders to the ground, then casually spun it upright as she looked over the trap, what looked like a flyswatter on the end of a catapult.

Drago was arrogant, to attack like this. These traps weren't even designed to kill. Some she had seen would maim, hook into and tear through wings to bring the unfortunate dragon down, but with wounds that could be mended. For every trap here, he could have had three lethal weapons instead. This would have been a slaughter.

Some sort of internal mechanism, probably a torsion spring, had pulled the trap down, but the Thunderclaw should have been able to lift it off without too much trouble. Confounded ratchets, she didn't have time to look for the release. "Cloudjumper!" she called, but her dragon gave her a worried look over his shoulder. "This is more important," she begged, waving to the frantic dragon trying to claw its way out of the net of ropes pinned on top of it.

He huffed, then shot a gout of fire over the dragon, a wave of heat washing over Valka as it burned through the wooden frame of the trap as well as the net over the dragon, who was of course hardly affected.

They were cutting it close as it was, and she clambered up onto his back even as she checked to see what the alpha was doing.

Strangely, he was doing nothing, staring out over the fleet of ships from his position inside the shattered wall of the nest, eyes wide and teeth bared. Was he hesitating? Was there something else?

Shouting distracted her, distant but distinct, a deep guttural roar that undeniably came from a human throat. It echoed out over the battlefield, a deliberate sound of neither terror nor pain.

"Drago," she growled; it had to be. She leaned, and Cloudjumper obliged, his enormous wings steadily working them into the air towards the sound. The battlefield below was utter chaos, Drago's men fleeing up the shore towards the nest.

By the time she realised the strangeness of that, they were beyond the ice wall, and she was staring dumbfounded at the ships bucking in the water, surging out of the way of an enormous wave bulging up towards the shore. "No," she breathed as the first of the gigantic crown broke the water, long bony protrusions that preceded the tusks erupting out in front.

Another Bewilderbeast climbed up onto the shore, a deafening bellow erupting from it up towards Alpha, who roared back. It was identical in almost every way, the exceptions being that it was notably darker, and its tusks hooked upwards much more aggressively and had thick iron bands around them.

Cloudjumper had stopped to stare with her, or perhaps she had inadvertently stopped him to stare, but either way the net took them easily, whipping up from further down the shore and having no trouble with a stationary target. She reacted without thinking and tried to sweep it away with her staff, but only succeeded in getting hooked in it herself as it wrapped around Cloudjumper.

Humans. Alpha had thought it would be at least a few more decades before he saw a cannon, but he wished he was surprised by their ingenuity when it came to cruelty and war. Even in his own time, the greatest advances in science had been for war, to be stronger than anyone else; he had been as guilty of it as any other. When it wasn't for personal gain and accomplishment, it was dominance over others.

But when the other breached the water, the impossible of all impossibilities, he seethed with rage. That vessel should not exist! he sent to it, roaring angrily.

Isn't it infuriating when someone doesn't keep their promise, was the acidic reply. They were not communicating with words, but rather with raw understanding, and it was underlaid with history and familiarity.

Who are you?! Alpha demanded, moving down towards it as it stomped up the shore. It was almost an exact mirror of himself, long tusks and piercing blue eyes, but its dark grey skin and hooked tusks gave it a much more menacing appearance.

It has been long since we clashed. They were not words, but flashes of memory and experience, echoes of screams and reflections of blood, each providing more insight.

It couldn't be… Treacherous wolf, he seethed, momentarily letting his anger and surprise distract him enough that his tusks were knocked aside, baring the side of his neck. A chilling fear ran through him – this other alpha meant to kill him, to get around his defence and end his life – and he acted without thinking, swinging his head back and landing his own solid hit. There was something viscerally different between a certain but distant death, and the threat of a sudden and imminent one.

But the iron bands, the humans… You do their bidding? he asked incredulously, the question layered with scorn.

I do my own bidding! A devastating, rage-fuelled strike sent him staggering, forcing him to shift a leg and focus on managing his weight and centre of gravity for a few moments, but the reckless swing was double-edged. They are the superior species, and that was said begrudgingly, there is no stopping them. It is inevitable. You know this. He did, at that.

They will use you and cast you aside, Alpha said dryly. He was still reeling with this sudden turn of events, with fighting a mirror copy of himself, seeing those piercing blue eyes in stark clarity beyond any reflective sheet of ice, hide itching with expectation at eyeing those sharp tusks.

Everyone looks out for themselves, was the acerbic reply as it turned its head to the side.

You were given your chance, and you proved yourself no better!

With blade in hand, the other alpha recited as it swung its tusks, earn the respect of the emissary of Valahar, and never know the peace of death!

He swung his own to meet them with a deafening crack. You were not to kill the one offering you life!

If I could kill it, then it was weak! They locked tusks, attempting to shove each other off balance without losing their own; the iron bands added weight that was difficult to overcome. You cowards hoarded your secrets, lorded over us! You thought yourselves superior! It started shoving more abruptly, making short distance and leveraging his head up to get under him, towards his vulnerable underside.

So you stole Molnir, and now nobody has anything! He put his entire body into a crushing headbutt, sending the other alpha staggering back in a daze.

That had been the turning point. Molnir, a substance comprised entirely of energy, liquid lightning, as useful as water itself and even more versatile. His son had discovered it, but it had been the boy's mad mistress who had used it to rip consciousness from the body. And it had been those idiots who had used it to crack the world in twain.

You do not know, it said gleefully, shaking itself back to its senses and locking tusks again with a wildly feral expression. Your son was the one who gave it to us.

No… That made no sense! He had to have known what would happen. His disdain for the cruelty of humans had been even greater than…

Alpha froze. Just for an instant.

Wanderer stared wide-eyed at the second big-tusk-alpha as it rose from the sea. This was not the one he had recognised at first sight, feeling so much shame and sadness for reasons he did not understand. For this one, he felt only fear.

There was only one Alpha, one king. He had always known this.

But there were two.

He shook his head and focused on the task at hand, freeing wing-hunters from traps and breaking Long-Paw things so that they could not trap more. But he was running low on fire, a single shot before leaving him with only his reserve. He looked at the fighting alphas, contemplating using it to interfere…

But that would be foolish. He could only spare a single shot, and he was unlikely to make a difference. He could even make things worse. Better to trust Alpha…

Or flee. If Alpha fell, the other might take him, the same way the queen took him all those seasons ago. Alpha had not done that, because he was considering fleeing an option.

His gaze flicked across the fight all along the shore, from the two alphas swinging their tusks at each other on one end, a wall of ice extending from there down the waterline towards the rest of the pitched battle, still ongoing. It took him time to spot the dark shadow flitting through the swarms of colour and metal, and only then because of the blue bolt that streaked down to the ground to take another Long-Paw-thing.

Fleeing carried its own problems. Dreamer would not want to abandon his sire and dam, and Wanderer himself didn't want to either. They would need to be found and convinced. He was confident he and Dreamer could recognise any bad thoughts, but that made no difference whether they were here or half a day's flying away.

He growled to himself and banked around to shred the wing of a metal-covered wing-hunter attacking a nest-kin, then drifted back above the fighting and scanned for targets. Fleeing was an option, but a pointless one.

The alphas fought on, their bellowing and echoing strikes frequently drowning out the battle below. A wing-hunter was trapped in a net, a still blot of colour on the ice – he barked as he recognised Cloudjumper, and angled down. Where was Skyreaching? It took him a few life-beats to spot her nearby, swinging her stick at a dark hulking Long-Paw who swung a long thin stick back…

Wanderer snarled as he recognised the tells; the thin stick with a bent claw at the end, the dark cloak that looked like the hide of some wing-hunter, even the way his balance was somehow wrong, movements stiff and strange. There was no hesitation. Wanderer dove, angling his sub-wings to keep track of the fighting around him so that he could focus on his target.

Skyreaching realised immediately, distancing herself and no longer trying to strike the Long-Paw alpha directly, focusing instead on swiping at his long stick. Those long weapons whirled and clacked together, but they were still too close, and he was running out of-

He recognised the signal Skyreaching had trying to send him by waving her stick as she fought, and he clenched his teeth and fired before he could think too much about it.

At the same time, the alpha's stick caught her side and yanked, causing her to falter, and then he stepped forward and knocked her away. Wanderer's shot struck the ground a moment later, right next to him, and sent him sprawling alongside her.

Wanderer braked and pulled up, swooping around to bleed out his momentum and land – the Long-Paw alpha was already getting up! That had not been a small shot, and had landed right next to him. Just as Dreamer had said, the way he shook off their fire was off-putting, his strongest weapon ineffective. With Dagur he'd at least felt that if he'd got a shot in it would have worked…

But he couldn't leave Skyreaching on her own. He could free Cloudjumper – no, there was already a Long-Paw doing that, Dreamer's sire. Confidence seeped back into him, like the warm glow of a fire. The Long-Paw would have no chance against all of them.

"Night Fury," the bad alpha growled possessively as Wanderer landed by Skyreaching, baring his teeth and leaving his wings flared. "This time, you will not escape."

"He shall not need to," Dreamer's sire growled back, striding up towards them, with Cloudjumper lowering himself down next to Skyreaching a moment later.

The Long-Paw alpha momentarily looked confused. "You?" he rasped. "I watched you burn!"

Dreamer's sire kept walking right up to swing a meaty paw at the bad alpha. "It takes more than a little fire to kill me!"

Wanderer turned his attention to Skyreaching – Cloudjumper was sniffing at her side, which she clutched a paw to. "This small hurt," she assured him, but while he didn't think it was serious, he suspected she was downplaying it. "You have more fire?"

He grunted with a grimace, not wanting to outright lie to her or explain his reserve shot. Skyreaching groaned and stood tall, then made to climb on Cloudjumper's back. "We need help alpha," she pleaded. Alpha was still locked in combat with the other of his kind, every clash of those massive tusks echoing out over the fighting and in Wanderer's very bones. Even with all his fire, he would be no more than a nuisance.

He left her arguing with Cloudjumper as he spotted Dreamer's sire having a little trouble, getting knocked back. He sprinted the short distance and leaped at the bad alpha, seeing an opportunity with that hooked stick out of the way, but his claws couldn't find purchase in the few moments he had before needing to kick off again; the Long-Paw had a way of retreating into himself with minimal effort that made him resilient to attacks.

"Toothy," Stoick grunted, getting to his paws and spinning his claw. "Stay back." Wanderer just grunted back at him-

A terrified scream, deep and deafening, resounded over the battlefield, instantly drawing everyone's attention and stilling the fighters. Wanderer almost forgot about the bad Long-Paw alpha as he watched the bad big-tusk-alpha bodily drive itself under Alpha, lifting his forepaws from the ground.

Wanderer was helpless. Dreamer, circling above, was helpless. Alpha was helpless as he was lifted up and thrown onto his side, and-

"NO!" Skyreaching screeched, the scraping of her boots on the ice stark in the sudden silence as Alpha was silenced. A wet sliding sound followed that would haunt Wanderer for seasons, and then the dark, not-possible alpha threw its head back and roared.

Submit, said its voice in his mind, and he snarled back at it. Everywhere around him, wing-hunters were going still, relaxing, no longer seeing a fight, but he recognised the bad thoughts.

"I heard rumours," the Long-Paw alpha rasped, "of men riding dragons." He glared at Dreamer's sire. "Now I know who. And where." That piercing gaze turned to Wanderer, and the alpha, the new king, turned to loom over them, tusks dripping dark blood. "More than a little fire, you say," he said chuckled dryly, then lifted his stick to point it at Wanderer.

Wanderer hissed at him, flaring his wings, but was drowned out by a thoughtful rumble of the big-tusk-alpha. He had one shot left, maybe-

SUBMIT

The voice was a physical pressure in his head, and Wanderer shrieked as he stumbled back.

OBEY

He clung to who he was. He was Wanderer. Cling to that memory.

Reality fragmented into pawfuls of pawfuls of pawfuls of pieces, the one the alpha wanted him to see pushing itself to the front and a thousand others hiding the real one from him.

His Dreamer, he knew his Dreamer, that could never be taken from him.

KILL

Dreamer did not want him to kill! Not unless absolutely necessary! He clenched his teeth, feeling the pressure around his jaw; his world was black, and he had forgotten what sound was entirely, but that pressure was real.

ENEMY

Not unless absolutely necessary! This Long-Paw had hurt Dreamer, hurt him, but-

THREAT

His own thoughts were drowned out. His reasoning fell on his own deaf ears.

There was an enemy. A threat. It had caused pain, he remembered this. Ending it would stop the pain.

Moving was hard. There was a lot of noise. But he had to protect his Dreamer. The shot built in his maw. He had no doubts.

NO!

Dreamer whimpered helplessly as the bad alpha pulled its tusks from Alpha's underside, wet cracks echoing off the ice in the sudden silence.

Why? The question burned within him, painful and unignorable, one question with many facets. Why had Drago attacked this nest? They were not hurting anyone other than to defend themselves. Why did this giant dragon obey him? He was but an insect to it. Why kill another of its own kind, when they clearly lived for hundreds if not thousands of years? They had to be rare enough already.

All the same question, asked in different ways. Why did this have to happen? He needed an answer, but he knew he would never get one, and that made him want to curl up and whimper until the world rotted away around him.

It all came back to the same question that he had always asked himself. Why were people so eager to cause so much suffering? His own torture at the hands of Dagur, hunted on Berserk until he could take it no longer, for nothing but sick entertainment. Alvin, who had tortured Wanderer and traumatised him and Dreamer both, hurt all the tribes of the Archipelago, for his own greedy ambitions. Viggo, cramming thousands of dragons into cages for naught but shiny metal, and maybe also to test his own intellect. Krogan, his motives were largely unknown but his methods had been so brutal he'd forced everyone's hand.

Drago. This second Bewilderbeast. Perhaps he was accustomed to expecting this from humans, but this dark alpha dragon was different. Dragons were better…

But even as he thought it, he knew that wasn't entirely true. The queen had caused immeasurable suffering. The Fire-Scale alpha that had taken her place had likely killed to maintain his collection of females, and had definitely been abusing his position. Speed Stingers fought to the death simply to decide who should lead them. Death Songs preyed on other dragons. Dragons were less inclined to greed and cruelty, but whether by choice or nature, they were not exempt from it.

The world was so very broken, and he was so very tired of trying to fix it when it didn't want to be fixed. What was in it for them?

A breath forced its way out of him, and he wasn't sure if it was a laugh or a sob. What could he do? This bad alpha, this king, he supposed, was in league with Drago. Which meant that the dragons even now submitting to it, the fight bleeding out of them, would probably be used for more war, kept in terrible conditions and forced to live however their alpha wanted.

He could feel that pull in his own mind, an eloquent order to join them, to live. In his despair, he might even have given himself over to it, were it not for the bitter irony that their offer of life was to join the ones doing the killing.

Only his reserve shot remained. He had to make it count. Could he kill Drago? Both humans and dragons were capable of selfishness, but between the two of them, humans were far more greedy, actively seeking out new ways to benefit themselves. Drago would take his army and conquer the world, as Alvin had wanted. The Bewilderbeast would not, and Dreamer could barely even scratch it anyway.

Drago was the obvious target now. He was easy to pick out among the downed dragons littering the ground, an odd grouping of familiar shapes quickly catching his attention-

He hastily summoned his fire, preparing the shell to contain and propel the shot, as he angled his body into a dive. The world was in slow motion. Drago was pointing at Sire, and Wanderer was taking slow steps forward. He would never put his back to such a threat, and Sire was backing up, hands held up, while Dam was clearly injured behind it all with Cloudjumper who needed to do very little to hold her back.

Too slow, he was too slow! NO! It wasn't a word that could be spoken, that could be said aloud – he shrieked it anyway-!

Kra-KA

His breath left him as Sire was engulfed in a thick cloud of Wanderer's fire, limp body tumbling out of it a moment later in a slick of red.

Heat licked the sides of Dreamer's face, his last shot evaporating in his mouth. Dam's long, keening wail was clearly audible. The voice in his head demanded his obedience. Drago's shoulders shook with mirth.

Mirth. Dreamer saw red. He realised he had been pushed past a breaking point, but he didn't care. It didn't matter how loud the voices in his head were. He folded his wings.

He was going to kill. He was going to enjoy it. The only thing he noticed was movement looming in his peripheral, and he-

"STOICK!" Valka shrieked, fighting Cloudjumper's stiff wing to get free, then stumbled as she was unexpectedly released. She kept right on stumbling, heedless of the excruciating pain in her side, to reach him, where he lay limp, unmoving other than his beard and the fur on his coat fluttering in the wind.

She wailed compulsively as she slid to a halt next to him. The entirety of his right arm was simply gone, a gruesome sight from which stemmed a pool of blood. She whimpered helplessly even as she fumbled for strips of cloth, her knife, anything she had to work with; the steps and motions of what she had to do were familiar, a slight comfort, but having to perform them on her husband was sheer torture. She couldn't even bring herself to check if he was still breathing, that didn't matter until she could do these first bits…

A shrill note rose in the hazy quiet, a low whistle building in volume and pitch as it fell upon them. Oh no, Dreamer…! She looked up-

In time to see the dark Bewilderbeast toss its head, long tusks sweeping through the air to collide with her son, the loud slap echoing multiple times. His wings fluttered limply as he sailed through the air to collide with the mountain, disappearing into the white with a crack that heralded an avalanche of ice and snow collapsing down over him.

She had already been horrified out of her mind. Now she was numb. Her arms tingled, waves of electric jolts running through them to her fingertips. Her vision was too blurred to see.

And yet, she had to press on. She had to do what she could.

"How you have fallen," Drago rasped from somewhere nearby. "Dragons have taken everything from me." He grunted, and there was a hollow metallic crash, but she was too absorbed in her task and her grief to pay him any attention. She could only do what little she could, and if he chose to stop her, she was powerless to do anything about it. "Now they have taken everything from you. Fitting."

She spared a glance up, just to confirm he was walking away, that she could keep treating her husband – but he was walking towards Wanderer, who was cowering.

Not from Drago, and not from the Bewilderbeast. His tail was tucked to his side, and he was backing up towards the nest with his wide, fearful gaze flitting across the sky. He barely even noticed Drago walking up to him, and then that same look returned, a vacant stare with slit eyes and quivering ears and frills.

Drago stepped onto his shoulder, settling on his back, and he sagged with the weight. They looked ridiculous, but somehow, they got airborne, followed by all the other dragons of the nest.

She turned her attention back to her husband, shaking hands doing what she could, while the silence slowly pressed in around her, until there was nothing but her ragged, sobbing breaths, the keening of injured dragons, and the wind playing across the ice.

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Legends Never Die