"Are you aware of what you are doing?" Astrid asked. It was a simple question, albeit one she wasn't entirely sure the Night Fury could answer without embarrassing her further. She set the conch shell down on his rock and tried not to look directly at him.

He looked up from his... activity... and narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Do that somewhere private," she requested irritably. "It looks like you are licking yourself in a place that should not be licked." She knew dragons cleaned themselves, given swimming or otherwise bathing wasn't really an option, but the position he was in was just obscene. It was only the fact that he was a dragon that made it not inappropriate, and the fact that he was descended from a human countered that somewhat, making her uncomfortable.

She was uncomfortable grooming herself, let alone seeing him do his underbelly by sitting on his tail and curling over to nip at the area between his hips in a way she was sure would break the back of a human. She could not see anything particularly obscene there – had she not known better she would have guessed him female – but still.

"Sorry?" he said uncertainly, uncurling and standing on all four feet. "I do not think there is anything wrong with cleaning myself… If this is a Flightless thing, you should remember that just because my mother was one does not mean I know everything about them."

Astrid marveled at the fact that she didn't want to punch him... very hard. In the absence of the need to hold a grudge, she found him easy to be around. Part of it was that she understood him more than she did the other dragons, and possibly that he understood her better than anyone else did. They both knew exactly where they stood. He wouldn't casually – or not so casually – try to play matchmaker, like some of the other dragons she knew. She'd rather spend time around him than around Stormfly, for instance.

Who would be here soon, to check in on her. She did not want to be within eyeshot of the Night Fury when that happened; said Nadder's matchmaking predilections would be encouraged by even a false hint of success.

But she couldn't leave without correcting the Night Fury. "Touching that place is obscene. If you must touch yourself," and she was entirely happy her current body could not blush, allowing her to seem unaffected by the obscenity of what she herself had just said, "do it where nobody will see."

"That's stupid," he said bluntly. "We both know I am not doing anything actually embarrassing. I am just polishing scales and removing old, dead ones to let new scales form."

"You take off old ones?" She had assumed she was just supposed to polish them. That was all she ever saw other dragons doing.

"That explains why yours are not so smooth anymore," he remarked. "Yes. We do it far more often than other kinds of flame do, because ours do not get old all at once. If you have a scale that is dull and feels like it is not part of you," and at that he poked at a scale on the front of his left paw with a claw from his right, "just peel it off. It should come painlessly."

Astrid watched impassively as he peeled up and flicked away a black oval from his own body. Equally black skin was left behind, but no blood, and it did not seem to have hurt. All in all, it seemed she had a lot more grooming to do tonight in the privacy of her sleeping alcove.

"I will see you later," he huffed, jumping off his rock in one smooth movement. "I suppose I am going to find a private place for my private parts." he cast her a mildly exasperated look and set off at a trot down the shoreline.

That was too much. She stifled her laughter just enough that he didn't hear it.

"What is the joke?" Stormfly asked eagerly, landing behind Astrid with a crunch, her large talons digging into the sharp shells and rocks that made up the shore. "Does he tell good jokes?"

"Nothing," Astrid sighed, reigning in her amusement with the disappointing realization that Stormfly was not going to let this go. "He was not trying to be funny." It just happened. Now that she knew he was the son of a human, a part of her mind insisted on seeing him as partially human himself, though that was not the case, and that made some of what he did amusing or awkward instead of just foreign like with every other dragon.

"Well, you are funny," Stormfly said coyly. "Bringing him water so often... We all see through that." She nipped at Astrid's back. "Do you need help smoothing your scales? He might appreciate you looking your best if he sees you that often."

Astrid snarled, not at all amused, and jumped away from Stormfly. "Time for your daily reminder," she growled. "I do not like him. I simply do not hate him any longer. I bring him water as often as is necessary for his well-being, and I do not do it for any of the reasons running through your thick skull." Contrary to Stormfly's insinuations, interacting with the Night Fury was only a small, intermittent portion of her day.

Of course, Stormfly's aforementioned thick skull would keep any of Astrid's protests from properly sinking in, so she didn't leave it at that. "You have checked up on me. Now don't you have someone else to go see?" Stormfly's interest in the green male Nadder was a great way to distract her.

"No, he is busy preening himself today," she explained happily. "We think Inferna will have her last meal of the season in a few days."

Astrid failed to see the connection there. "What does that have to do with anything?" she asked.

"Everything," Stormfly squawked. "She goes to sleep after her last meal. Once Inferna sleeps for seven days straight, we know she is out for the season. The day after that is when the ceremonies start. He wants to look his best." And of course, 'looking his best' apparently required more than a week's effort.

It was strange to Astrid that an entire group of dragons preened more than the prissiest woman on Berk. She herself only cared about maintaining what was important. Looking her best was just an outgrowth of not wanting to neglect herself... no matter how strange and discomforting that could be now, in a body she was not entirely familiar with.

"You should take some time to clean yourself up too," Stormfly suggested, hopping around to nip at Astrid's back with the tip of her beak again. Astrid twisted around to deny her, but that didn't faze her at all. "Maybe think about what Inferna is probably going to do soon," she added innocently.

Astrid's blood ran cold. "She is giving me time to adjust," she objected. "I haven't been here nearly long enough yet, and she will know that." She had assumed Inferna would at least wait until Spring, to see if Astrid had gotten it done on her own. That fit the lazy methods Inferna seemed to be employing.

"Oh, if you say so, but you should prepare anyway." Stormfly looked her over. "Polished scales and a dip in the water out past the fog will make you look amazing. The male Bolt should clean up nicely too, but you are far above him."

Astrid shrugged her wings dismissively. She had heard comments about her beauty from far too many dragons to discount it, and from what she understood her body probably really was whatever the Night Fury's ideal female looked like, which would of course be beautiful. As best she understood it, he had subconsciously given her every advantage possible. Looks was one of them.

That did not mean she thought of herself as beautiful. Maybe with more time, or other Night Furies to look at as a way to judge what was normal. It didn't matter, anyway. If it was up to her no Night Fury would ever have reason to appreciate her looks, and if it was not up to her, the one who would appreciate her would be forced to do so no matter what she looked like. Not that the latter was going to happen; she'd find a way out of it before then. It was not coming as soon as the Nadder had thoughtlessly implied it might.

Astrid was looking forward to the beginning of these ceremonies she knew nothing about for only one reason, and that was Inferna going to sleep. Hopefully, by the time Inferna awoke in the Spring, she'd have come up with a way to end her. Unless that way needed her asleep, in which case she'd never wake, or wake unexpectedly only to die.

Though Astrid still had yet to even identify a weakness in Inferna, let alone plot out how she'd exploit it. These things took time. Or so she told herself whenever she dwelled overmuch on her lack of progress.

"Stop it," she chided Stormfly, sidling away from another nip. A few quick questions directed at Mentor and subsequently answered had been enough that she knew Stormfly was just trying to help her out with these pushy ministrations, not even being that pushy in the process, at least by the standards of dragons. Pushy would be if she pinned Astrid with her large talons and started preening her scales by force. That was apparently what mother Nadders did to their children, and Stormfly was anticipating being a mother soon.

"I will be removing my old scales tonight," Astrid promised, hoping to get Stormfly off of her case. "Now stop it."

"Okay, fine, but if I see one dull scale next time I see you I am taking it off for you," Stormfly threatened. "I am going to go see if anyone wants my help." She fluttered off, swerving through the air toward the top of the volcano.

Astrid shook her head at the sight. Stormfly was so excited for something that they weren't even sure was going to happen yet… Though Winter was coming. Ice had begun to coalesce around the sea stacks despite the constant motion of the sea, and it would not be long before the cold really set in.

The freeze was coming. Winter was coming. Four or more months of Inferna-free time was coming. She just had to hope Inferna was not going to remember her and decide to do one last thing before taking her long nap.

But now was not a time for worrying. Everyone around her was hopeful, and she could not help but be infected by that. Maybe that was also helping her with the Night Fury. Her good mood was almost involuntary–

That thought made her stop in her tracks. She did not know this body. Maybe her mood was involuntary. A result of the time of year, out of her control, irrespective of her circumstances. It would not be the oddest thing about being a dragon, and everything seemed suspiciously aligned. She was happy, the Night Fury was closer to happy, Stormfly was happy…

If it was some unavoidable part of being a dragon, she could maybe accept that. Given this body didn't seem to bleed or otherwise act up every month, she supposed she had come out ahead. As long as it did not get too overpowering, or change to something less innocent than a general good mood, she was fine with it. It probably affected everyone, and in a place like this they could all use a morale boost–

Everyone would be feeling it. Maybe even Inferna.

There was an ironic thought. The most horrible and sadistic creature Astrid knew might be in as good a mood as the rest of them.

~O~o~O~

After a relaxing flight in the sun, a drink for herself and a few fish to take the edge off of her hunger, Astrid made her way into the volcano. As strange as it was to have any sort of normalcy in this place, she was beginning to get into a pattern. Wake up, bring water to the Night Fury, fly, drink, find Mentor, and then try to do something useful with the rest of her day while dodging Stormfly and detouring to refill the Night Fury's shell of water as needed.

But something was going on. Inferna was not up; rather, the other dragons were doing something strange, of the solemn and potentially sinister variety.

Astrid landed on a ledge far from what was going on and looked over at it, trying to decipher what she was seeing. In her short time here, she had almost forgotten that these people had a multitude of beliefs and customs completely foreign to her. This was a stark reminder that she still did not know the people she was now one of.

A ring of Terrible Terrors was the first thing that caught her eye. They were absolutely never around, but now they were out in force, dozens standing in a rigid arc around the rest of the dragons. In front of them was a small open space, and then another arc of Nadders. Stormfly and her special friend were there, snarling along with the rest of the dragons.

That was what made it sinister. There was an arc of Zipplebacks in front of the Nadders, and Nightmares in front of them, and all were snarling.

Astrid crept closer, trying to get a better look at the center of the semicircle. Then one of the Nightmares shifted, and she saw what was in the middle.

A final, small and totally circular cluster of Gronckles were huddled together, all facing one in the center, one Astrid vaguely recognized as the Gronckle from the arena. That Gronckle female looked positively defiant now, and not at all worried about the sheer amount of rage directed her way. The majority of the nest was vehemently voicing their displeasure with her for some unknown reason, but she was defiant.

Then, in a moment that Astrid heard distinctly, everything stopped. Silence fell, aside from Inferna's snoring, which thundered on in the background.

A Nadder broke the formation all the dragons were holding to and shoved its way to stand directly in front of the Gronckle. "You will be lowered in our eyes," he hissed dramatically, his voice carrying clearly across the volcano to Astrid, distinct as it broke the near-silence.

"I do not care," the female Gronckle at the center of it all announced.

"You will not find another if you do this," a Terror, of all dragons, called out happily. Her happiness was completely contrary to the mood of the other dragons. Now that Astrid looked, she could see that all of the Terrors were enthusiastic, unlike everyone else.

"I would not regardless," the Gronckle responded solemnly.

"You wish to do this? To violate what the Solar fire is meant for? It is not meant to be a weapon," Mentor growled.

Astrid was beginning to think that this was an actual angry mob, if a well-organized one. They sounded truly disturbed, and Mentor did not approve at all.

"This will heal my heart and allow me to move on," the Gronckle cried out. "So grant me this one act of vengeance!"

A powerful roar erupted around her, the other Gronckles all bellowing at the top of their considerable lungs. Then the Terrors all roared, though Astrid only knew that because she could see them open their mouths and visibly expel the air from their small bodies.

She definitely heard when the Nadders, Nightmares, and finally Zipplebacks all joined in. The volcano shook with the combined sound of utter rage.

This was something big and important, something that would dishonor the female Gronckle... but she wanted to do it anyway, and they were all accepting her choice, whatever it was.

A rumble resounded from the volcano. Inferna did not come up, but she called out to them sleepily. "If that is vengeance, bring me back a dozen prey." The snoring resumed a few moments later.

The dragons all glared over at the pit, a rare show of open animosity, before continuing their strange ceremony. The female Gronckle stepped out of the huddle of Gronckles around her and faced Mentor. "I am no fighter, and I have one target in this battle. You will lead them in my stead."

"As you wish," Mentor agreed, bowing to her. "I follow your cause. We all do."

"Then we will go," the female Gronckle announced, her voice quaking with rage. "Tonight, at nightfall."

"All will aid you in this," Mentor said solemnly.

"No, I will pick a few," the female snarled, coughing up a small amount of lava as if spitting angrily. "I know full well that we cannot sacrifice a dozen or more of us just to do my vengeance in the customary way. As long as it is done, I could forgo all the rest. All I care about is avenging him."

"We understand," Mentor assured her. "We will be there." With one last group roar, the dragons all dispersed, most leaving the volcano in a frenzy, fired up by... whatever that was.

Astrid went to go ask Mentor, but he and his mate were already flying out of the volcano with the rest of the Nightmares, involved in what sounded like several simultaneous conversations. She could easily catch up to them, but they were busy, so she instead stopped a nearby Gronckle. "What was all of that?" she asked politely.

"Vengeance," he said with a guttural growl. She belatedly recognized him as the disagreeable Gronckle who had lectured her on her place in the nest, but he didn't seem to remember any of that now, speaking to her without any disdain. "Her mate died on a raid while she was imprisoned, and she just now decided that she wants revenge. She is the first to go to such lengths since… at least five seasons ago, maybe longer. It does not happen often."

"Where are we going?" she asked. Because of course she was going to tag along, if only because she wanted to see what actually happened, and how. Maybe she'd learn something she could pass on through Snotlout.

"The island of especially vile Flightless, the one who killed her mate is there." the male shuddered, his warty body shaking dramatically. "He will die the most horrible death any of us is capable of dealing out."

"Which is?" she asked, morbidly curious.

"Death by Solar fire." He buzzed off as those words left him, leaving her before she could say anything more.

She felt the Solar fire in her chest, thinking about it for the first time since first beginning to feel it. Nothing had changed there, and she had no idea how it could be used... but she had thought it could only transform. The Zippleback had told her it was fatal to only be partially covered, though. He had said partial transformation was always fatal, and a horrible way to die, but nothing more.

She knew one thing for sure. She was going, if only to see how that worked. She needed to learn about herself, and it seemed getting to see an intentional failure of Solar fire was a rare thing. She was almost looking forward to it.

~O~o~O~

"What was all that commotion inside?" the Night Fury asked, pawing at the empty conch shell in front of him. "I could hear it from here."

"A Coal made a big deal about going to use her Solar fire to kill a Flightless who killed her mate," Astrid explained. She didn't know all the details, but that should be enough to go on.

"Oh, one of those?" the Night Fury rumbled. "A waste of Solar fire, I used to think. But now..." he shrugged his wings sadly. "I'd love to declare vengeance against Inferna, but she has forbidden that, of course, and we cannot attack her anyway. Unless she rescinds that order, which she'll never do."

"Would that work?" Astrid asked thoughtfully. "Attacking her with Solar fire, I mean. Not rescinding the order."

"No," he answered. "It probably wouldn't. Though it is hard to explain why… You will see if you go and watch this vengeance." He didn't say that she ought to see for herself so she knew he was not just telling her what Inferna would want her to believe, but she got the message anyway.

"I'm definitely going, so I guess I will." She took the shell. "I don't know if the Flare who filled in for me last time is going or not…" Stormfly had been in the circle of dragons snarling at the Gronckle earlier, but she had seemed so enthusiastic about hanging around the nest and making herself look good. Astrid didn't see how a long flight and a completely optional raid fit into that plan.

"She won't," the Night Fury predicted. "They're going to bring the best fighters and leave the younger flames behind. She definitely isn't going. So you do not have to worry about me."

"I'll make sure before we leave," Astrid assured him. "Someone will fill in for me, whether or not she is available."

"I appreciate it," he rumbled.

She nodded absently. She wasn't worried; her good mood remained firmly intact, and it seemed his did as well.

"I have a question," she said suddenly. "Is there something about being a flame that makes us more… positive… around this time of year?"

"Not until somewhat later in the cold-season, and then only to ease tensions during the laying of eggs," he said thoughtfully. "Another reason doing so out of season is not common, beyond wanting to avoid doing it when Inferna is active. It is easier all around to do it when instinct prefers. But I suppose the beginning of the effect is hitting you. As long as you do not… get involved with someone… in the next pawful of days, it will mostly go away. But if you do, it will last until the egg hatches. A safeguard against short tempers being in close quarters with fragile eggs, I think."

So it would go away once her body caught on that her mind was in no way attracted to anybody around. Good. She didn't even think she could be attracted to a reptile, and she most certainly was not right now. "That makes sense," she said. "It affects everyone?"

"Everyone," the Night Fury confirmed. "Flightless do not have that?"

"No, we do not." Astrid didn't want to keep answering questions in that direction. "We leave tomorrow morning. You are sure you will be fine?"

"Keep asking and I will think you care," he teased, shaking his head. "I am sure. So long as you count 'annoyed to distraction by a talkative Flare' as fine."

She took the conch shell and flew off to refill it, still somewhat pleased with her life at the moment, despite all of its flaws. At least she knew why those flaws seemed inconsequential at the moment. Her body was messing with her mind.

~O~o~O~

The trip to Outcast island was made in a conflicting mood of both solemness and excitement. The general opinion, bandied about by the more talkative dragons, was that this was also the last raid of the season, judging by how lethargic Inferna had been in calling to be fed. Some were even saying that had the call to vengeance not woken her, she would not have woken at all, and the cold-season could have started early. That, in turn, led to speculation on Inferna's age and health, the only hopeful discussion of mortality Astrid had ever heard.

But the Gronckles did not participate in any of this. They held their own discussions, and those were far less pleasant. This was a trip of vengeance, and they seemed to be motivating the female Gronckle for what she was going to do when they arrived.

Astrid flew alone, grateful Stormfly had indeed remained at the nest with her prospective mate. If that male Nadder could stand her constant, undistracted chatter for the length of this trip and still come out of it wanting her, then he deserved to be her mate. Stormfly was not a bad person, but she was only pleasant to be around – in Astrid's opinion – in small doses. Dragons apparently tended to stick with their mates indefinitely, much like humans, so that male Nadder had better be ready to deal with her for the rest of his life.

Flying alone did bring something to mind, though, something she had tried hard to move past. This would be the first Winter she spent without her parents.

Her family did not do much for the holidays. Had not done much for the holidays. But Winter was the only time of year they spent mostly indoors, thanks to the nature of the weather, so it was a time of sharing stories and bonding. She was going to miss that, and them. A lot.

That, in turn, led her thoughts to Berk, and how the village might be holding up. The pile of ash that had been her home was probably gone by now, swept away by the wind if nothing else. Their chief was likely still forging ahead, alone but no less of a leader. They would have a lean Winter, probably; two raids in quick succession would put a dent in their food supply, even if the second raid had been a miserable failure on the dragons' part.

Berk would be fine. Hopefully. They would survive, they always did. She had nobody there to worry about personally, but she would not like to see the village suffer.

The same could not be said of the Outcasts. Astrid remembered a target she would have been fine with attacking on her first raid, were she capable of firing at the time, and resolved to try for him this time. Her Winter gift to all of Berk. The death of Alvin the Treacherous in the last dragon raid of the year.

~O~o~O~

This was not a normal raid. It might have looked like one if observed from afar, and aside from the atmosphere it had not differed much from one until now, but it was not. The first real difference came just as the flock reached Outcast island, just as the moon peeked out from behind a few wispy clouds and the cold Northern wind picked up.

Mentor stopped the flock a ways above the rocky island and immediately turned to the female Gronckle. "This is your raid," he said with a low, formal rumble.

"I will not sacrifice others for my own satisfaction," the female growled. "I am not Inferna. The Coals will handle revenge. No more, and no less. You command all else."

"Your Coals know the look of the one responsible?" Mentor asked warily. "This is a terrible thing to do to the wrong Flightless, even if they are all vile here."

"They know who to take. Many saw my mate fall. We will catch the right one." The other Gronckles growled in agreement.

"Then do as you will." Mentor looked down at the island. "My mate, are you thinking what I am?"

"Go for two of the fields and ignore the other, we have fewer flames than usual," Mentor's mate called down.

"Exactly." Mentor flew over the flock calling out assignments to either the Southern or Northern field, separating with no apparent pattern beyond sending roughly equal numbers to both. He passed over the Gronckles without telling them what to do, and favored Astrid with an inquisitive look. She let fire well up in her chest and opened her mouth so that he could see the glow, and that was answer enough for him.

Mentor joined one of the two groups, and both set off to strike their targets. Astrid repositioned herself over the island, seeking a good angle on both fields, and uncomfortably aware that she was far less alone than usual. Aside from Mentor's mate and her son, the Gronckles were all still buzzing around, losing altitude to get close enough to see the fight with their less than stellar vision.

At least Stormfly was not here… Though Astrid suspected that Inferna would have wanted her to be. It was Inferna's mistake to never make perfectly clear to Stormfly what she was supposed to do going forward. Though even if Inferna had thought to send her along to watch Astrid once more, she'd probably go off and do her own thing at the first excuse. Inferna's commands did not entirely hold when the dragon in question was as scatterbrained and flighty as Stormfly.

That seemed like a strange weakness in Inferna's powers. Now that Astrid was thinking about it, she was struck by it. If Inferna could make dragons forget commands and still follow them, it was odd that she could not make a naturally forgetful dragon remember. Maybe there was something actually wrong with Stormfly that no amount of mental commanding could fix. Or maybe it just wasn't consistent.

But Astrid didn't think so. All of this, both Solar fire and Inferna's commands, followed rules and did not contradict itself. She had never expected magic to work like that, but it clearly did. It had its own internal logic. There had to be a reason Stormfly was able to unintentionally ignore her orders at times, where other dragons could not if their lives literally depended on it.

She needed to find and talk to that Zippleback who was an expert on Solar fire; he might know something more of Inferna's commands and how they functioned, and now she understood enough to have more specific questions.

For the moment, she couldn't do anything in that direction – if that Zippleback was present, he was busy raiding the island below – so she put Stormfly's odd resistance out of her mind and looked down at the fight. It was going as before, the Outcasts circling around their macabre fences, headed to the badly-located gates on the other side, the fight raging.

Astrid fired an explosive blue bolt at a clustered group of Outcasts trying to form some sort of team against the dragons, scattering them and eliciting a general pause in the battle on the humans' side as they came to terms with the fact that there was a Night Fury around. She waited for them to group up again, planning her next strikes. The first two dozen idiots to do so were dispersed by two further shots.

Then a far better target presented himself, as she had hoped he would. Alvin the Treacherous, his wild hair and axes betraying his identity even from a distance, was forging his way through the chaos, chopping at dragon and man alike whenever one got in his way. His objective was clear; Mentor was in fine form, fully ablaze and taking down any Outcast who got close, and Alvin was making a beeline straight for him.

Seeing him like this, throwing off dozens of semi-coordinated attackers with ease, Astrid understood how Mentor had totally stymied her best attempts to even scratch him, back when she was attacking everyone who got in her way. He was obviously an extremely skilled fighter, on the level of Stoick or Gobber, and had far more natural advantages to leverage than any human could.

Though she was pretty sure she could scratch him now, were she to really try. Her fire was fast and powerful, and she could use it to overwhelm him and get in close.

Alvin cut a Terror in half with a single swing of his ax and all but threw himself at Mentor. Astrid fired a quick shot in his general direction, lacking the time to aim, and managed to blind him with the resulting spray of dirt just as he swung at Mentor; his strike went wild, and Mentor sent him tumbling with a swipe of his tail. A Gronckle buzzed by the both of them–

Astrid looked up from the small fight between Mentor and Alvin, satisfied that Mentor could handle himself for the moment, and found the squadron of lumpy rock-eating dragons. They were coming back up with a human in tow, one of the larger males holding a generic Viking in his stubby claws.

"Call it, we have him," the female Gronckle requested, buzzing up to speak with Mentor's mate.

"We have ten prey, a moment more and I will," she agreed. "Also, female Bolt, my mate could use some help." She sounded worried, but not terribly so. "About now would be good."

When Astrid looked down, Alvin was advancing, driving Mentor back and in the process forcing him close to a small but steep hill. One that, unbeknownst to Mentor, had three Outcasts lurking on top, waiting to run down and strike from behind.

It was almost funny how easily they were dispatched. Astrid sent a single bolt of fire at them, and the hill was blasted clean of Vikings. The fight continued uninterrupted, Mentor laying down patches of flames to either side of him to force Alvin to approach from the front, wising up to the tricks the Outcast Chief had intended to use and seeking to prevent further flanking maneuvers.

"Two more away," Mentor's mate announced. "I am going to call it as soon as he gets clear. That Flightless is lucky we value our lives more than killing him."

The other dragons might value their lives above killing Alvin, but Astrid had a gift to give Berk, and she was going to get it done now that she had no other responsibilities. She dove, powering up a shot, letting her screech be heard, the natural outgrowth of diving like this echoing through the night sky. It was something she had practiced maybe twice, and only on fish prior to now, but it was easy. Natural.

Alvin didn't look up; he thought she would be striking at his men. Night Furies didn't kill individuals, they struck strategically.

Or, the other Night Fury had struck strategically, and she had until now. He couldn't possibly know that she had a more personal mission to carry out this time. She pulled out of her dive at the last moment, letting off a powerful bolt of fire as she did, and spun to the side to throw herself out over the ocean before anyone could even try to get off a lucky shot. Mentor's mate roared for withdrawal, though her voice was joyful and triumphant.

Astrid didn't need to look to know what she had done. Her gift to her people; the elimination of an actual enemy.

Dragons flew past her as she made her way back to the flock, roaring and calling to each other as they went. She was flying slow on purpose, so that she could find one particular dragon.

There was Mentor. She fell into place beside him, flying back to the rest of the dragons. "Sorry if that was your personal challenge." Many Vikings might feel slighted by her interference.

"What? You got me out of a tough spot." Mentor nodded enthusiastically. "Look at my head. See my horns?"

Astrid did as told, and saw that one was shorter by at least a few inches, ending in a jagged point that was obviously the result of the tip breaking off. "Did he do that?"

"Yes. At best, we were equal in skill, and raids like this are never 'at best' for me. With an enemy like that, I will take any help I can get. I have too many people counting on me to risk myself in a grudge match." Mentor purred, a deep bass rumble in his chest as they flew. "So thank you. That will make this place far less dangerous in the future. Every island seems to have one like him, but he was especially bad."

On that, these dragons and Berk would probably agree. It seemed she had done something good for both groups. That made her happy. Even if she could not be home for the Winter, at least she was still helping said home.

~O~o~O~

The Gronckles flew in a close cluster, guarding their prisoner. He was still alive, though he didn't seem to be conscious, and whatever was going to happen was being postponed until he woke up. That ended up being well into the day.

Astrid had been sleeping, like most of the dragons. They were on the same pitiful excuse for an island they had rested at on her first trip here, and she had burrowed herself partially into the sand, enjoying the sun on her back. She still was not used to mere sunlight being a rare luxury.

"It is time," a Gronckle roared, startling many dragons awake. "All should watch."

That was why she was here. Eliminating Alvin had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. Astrid stood, shook herself off, and walked over to the gathering crowd, getting a good view by standing behind and therefore over the entire group of Terrible Terrors.

That was another mystery she was still wondering about. The Terrors were usually skittish, but this entire trip seemed to invigorate and embolden them. She didn't understand why; if they had any real reason to be afraid of her, it wouldn't suddenly not apply on this trip.

Once everyone had gathered most of the Gronckles dispersed into the crowd, only three remaining. Two held the now conscious Viking down, and the female Gronckle stood over him.

"You are sure this is the right one?" Mentor asked, his long neck sticking out over two Nadders to give him a front-row view.

"We are sure," one of the Gronckles holding the prisoner replied. "I recognize him."

"So do I," the other agreed.

"On your consciences if you are wrong." Mentor sighed and was silent.

The female stood over the Viking, leering down at him. "You killed him," she said to the struggling, uncomprehending Viking. "I loved him. This will not bring him back. But I want to do it anyway."

Her large mouth began to glow, as if holding some great fire. She opened her maw and moved over to stand by the pinned Viking's midsection, glaring down at him.

Then she breathed a red flame. It was wholly unnatural, almost obviously so. Gronckles could not even breathe pure flames; they spat molten rock. But she did anyway, just like a Night Fury or Nadder would, and traced a wavering path across the Viking's writhing, screaming body.

Astrid winced, unable to watch stoically. This was torture, a pain she knew well, and unlike for her it would end in death. But she forced herself to keep watching, because the Night Fury had thought she would understand why one dragon could not kill Inferna in this manner, after she saw.

The wide line the Gronckle traced left the Viking's entire back untouched, and totally avoided his head, wandering up from his left leg to his chest and down his right arm. She steered clear of her compatriots holding the Viking down by sitting on his hands and feet, carefully stopping well away from them.

The Viking glowed with an unearthly light in the places he had been burned. Then, as Astrid remembered, the glowing spots burst into multicolored flames, this time muddled greens and tawny browns. The flames rose and began to slow, solidifying and weaving together, in some places bulging further outward–

But what Astrid could not look away from was not the places that had been burned. The line between burned and untouched drew her attention. That line smoldered, crisping and fading, and did not change beyond the borders of what had been covered.

After a moment, the Viking's agonized screams died off. He convulsed a few final times, his eyes grew dull and sightless, and his body finally fell limp. The Gronckles stepped away, giving a good view of what had been done.

Half man, and half Gronckle. Not as if he had been stuck between, but as if some deranged blacksmith had tried to weld two separate halves together. There was absolutely no way anyone could survive that.

And Astrid saw the problem, the one she had been told to look for. It was one of surface area. The parts that had changed relied on the area covered by the flame, and seemed to radiate outward from where the body's center would be. Inferna was so ponderously massive that any one dragon's Solar fire would probably just have the same effect as another large dragon clawing at her; a deep gash, but not a fatal one.

It was a way to strike at Inferna, but unless Astrid got ponderously lucky, not kill. This was a part of the solution she sought, but not all of it.

A part, though. A big part. She had a weapon. Now she just had to figure out how best to use it.