I know it's been a long time.


Chapter 16: The Headless tribe.

It was with great pain and sadness that Tyrad and Magnus walked on the wooden dock. After a rough sailing on a half-broken boat, they finally made it back to the island the Headless tribe claimed as their own. Followed by a few Vikings from allied tribes, the two Headless carried on their shoulder a body wrapped in a makeshift fabric. Their solemn walk attracted the attention of the island's residents. Whispers started all around the procession, all of them by members of the affiliated tribes. "Wait, is that Magnus and Tyrad? What happened." "They looked all beat up, who attacked them." "Since when a tribe is powerful enough to topple the Headless?" "Could it be that the Archipelago allied themselves once again?"

Unfazed, the two Headless walked forward into the crowd, which immediately split apart. The Vikings that followed them quickly blended into the crowd, immediately surrounded by inquisitive mouths and eager ears, trying to pry the past events from them. Reunited with their own tribe members, the surviving Vikings let out a sigh, knowing well enough that they went get any rest unless they satisfy their curiosity.

Magnus and Tyrad walked up the stairs built on the side of the mountain, before finally reaching the place that was exclusive to the Headless tribe. Despite their silent steps, the sharp senses of other members still caught their presence. Some of them peeked out of their lodging, only to gulp at the sight of the funeral march. Not because one of them, one of the best, died, but because they wouldn't want to be in their shoes.

"Where is he?" Tyrad asked

"Up there, as usual." Someone wearing a boar skull for helmet, bear skull for shoulder plate, and what appeared to be the ribcage of a dragon crafted into body armor responded.

"Well," Tyrad sighed, before turning to Magnus "I'll go first, meanwhile, go find us a dragon, a more aggressive one is possible, and join me after."

Magnus nodded before carefully shifting his position, and after he made sure that Eir's body was secure in Tyrad's arm, he left to go fetch the aforementioned beast.

Walking up some more stairs. Tyrad reached the entrance of a cave. Lowering slightly his head to dodge the protruding celling, he went in, guided by the torches that dimly lit its rocky surface. The cave expanded to a cavern, which the sunlight shined through the crackled celling. The mountain was a former volcano, and a geological miracle prevented its crater from totally collapsing. In the middle of the cavern was a hole roughly fifteen steps deep, around it was built another three steps high barriers, with a catwalk that went all the way around.

The footstep of Tyrad resonated within the cavern, announcing his presence.

"What it is Tyrad?" Said the man that stood silently on the catwalk. Dressed in typical Headless soft armor, he sported a thin fabric cape that clings to his silhouette. Turning around, Tyrad was met with the familiar sight of a mask covering the man's face. The dual of white and gray slashed the man's face diagonally, from this left eyebrow to his jaw, passing through the eye. Despite not looking as imposing as Magnus, his presence resonated with a cold aura that kept all your senses wailing out. It wasn't a presence that fills one with a sense of danger, but a sense of despair, of irrelevance. The way he looked at Tyrad was the same as he looked at the surrounding walls. Yet, Tyrad didn't dare to speak up. Because in front of him was the man that single-handedly climbed up the Headless unofficial hierarchy, the one that was revered by both the older generation and the newer one. The one that was solely known by the name of Ombre.

"Ombre, Eir" Tyrad voiced caught up as his throat clenched. He felt that by saying the fatal words, it will set the fact in stone. "Eir is dead."

"How?" Ombre asked, his voice unfazed.

"We managed to capture the Haddock boy, but he managed to escape by blowing the island to pieces. Eir died in the rubbles." Tyrad answered.

"This isn't everything, with Eir's agility, there is no way he would have been crushed by mere rocks. Isn't it?" Ombre asked again.

"He died saving someone."

Ombre clicked his tongue, Futile he breathed out. Turning around, he jumped down from the catwalk and approached Tyrad. The smaller Viking let out a gulp. He could tell that Ombre was angry.

"Please tell me that Eir didn't die in vain, that you have at least accomplished what we sought," Ombre told Tyrad in a cold tone, each word was like ice grazing Tyrad's skin.

"That, we managed," Tyrad answered. "Just let me show you."

At this perfect moment, Magnus appeared, a caged nightmare in his tow. He was listening the conversation outside and waited for the perfect timing.

The dragon, in a soft slumber, woke up to the sound of his cage being unlocked. Groggily, it took in its surrounding. The beast let out a soft growl at the sight of the three Headless. Tyrad slowly approached it, his hand extended in front of him just like how he learned and said in the most soothing voice he could muster.

"It's alright, I'm not here to hurt you."

The Nightmare, at first startled, shrank its neck back, dodging the extended hand. Unbaffled, Tyrad took a step forward and stopped just before his hand touched the scaly mouth.

Ombre clicked his tongue in surprise, as the dragon gently pressed his muzzle into Tyrad's hand.

"That's it, good dragon," Tyrad whispered softly, before giving the dragon's chin a few scratches.

"Just let them come to you," Tyrad said, addressing Ombre.

"Interesting, that Haddock boy is sure an odd one. It's a shame that he is so fixated." Ombre commented.

"He sure is blind, and I'm afraid reality might break him," Tyrad said. "But he maybe could have been the best of us. And that makes him so fragile."

"If you say so," Ombre answered. "You're the ones who are fixated on this topic. Makes us really wonder if that's your differentiation?" His smile couldn't be seen by Tyrad.

"Do you confirm it?" Tyrad shot back, his mood darkened almost instantly.

"No." Ombre teased again, his eyes sparkling with glee. "Anyways, was the weapon test fruitful as well?"

"The arrow? It's will need some further adjustment; the aftermath is still too strong. But we are making progress."

"Perfect" Ombre said as he climbed back on the catwalk, "Perfect" He muttered again, before jumping down into the hole.

"Wait" Magnus spoke, "What's down there?"

"Why he needed us to get the Haddock boy," Tyrad answered back, sighting.

\/—•—\/

Landing on a ledge a couple of steps down, Ombre eyed the figures laying at the very bottom of the hole. Its resting figure was curled up onto itself, but even sleeping, this beast looked dangerous. Its greyscale offered him camouflage in almost any environment, and the dorsal spines were imposing enough to scare away anyone brave enough to bother him during his sleep. But it wasn't enough to scare away Ombre. The Headless dropped down and landed on the rocky surface. The sound of the impact, albeit small, still woke the dragon up.

Almost Instantly, the dragon got on his feet, adopting the bipedal posture, he let out a growl of warning towards Ombre, extending his abnormally long frontal arm and pointing its razor-sharp claw towards him.

The Headless gave a nod of approval at the sight of the claws. Each leg sported four of them and each one was as long as a dagger and many times more deadly. "As expected of the dragon executioner". Taking a step forward, he extended his hand in front of him, as he saw Tyrad do to the Nightmare.

The dragon crouched down, ready to leap, its two tails, each one finished by a stinger capable of delivering paralyzing poison that can render a Stormcutter motionless, swung up with surprising agility, warning the Headless to not come any closer.

Deaf to the warning, Ombre took another step forward, and the dragon struck, swinging with his tail at blazing speed. But the Viking was faster, he quickly steps out of the way, wincing at the sigh of seeing the tail embedding itself in the rocky surface.

Startled, the dragon, who had never seen anything dodge its attack, hesitated and Ombre, taking the opportunity, quickly closed the distance. Stopping right before its sharps, conic-shaped muzzle, the Viking started into the dragon's ice blue eyes.

"Easy, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you. I know what happened to your kind before. Let me help you, as we both seek the same thing."

Sustaining the Viking's blood-red look, the dragon let out a soft growl. As an intelligent animal, he could sense that the being in front of him doesn't mean any harm.

Ombre let out a gasp of surprise, like a young child's first encounter with a brand-new pet, as the dragon gently pressed his muzzle into his opened palm. The ice-cold skin of the reptile felt incredibly smooth underneath his palm.

"That's it." Ombre whispered softly, now trailing his hand on the long neck of the dragon, "We will take back what was rightfully yours, and then start renewing this word." His gaze sharpened as his hands reach the small, underdeveloped wings that couldn't sustain flight.

Magnus and Tyrad stood up when Ombre climbed back up, the dragon on his tails. Immediately, both Headless adopted a guard stance.

"Is that what I think it is?" Magnus said, his hand on his weapon.

"Indeed," Ombre said, his mask hiding his menacing grin. "That's the Solitude."

Both Vikings gulped. The Solitude was a dragon of forbidden legends, known for its extreme aggressiveness coupled with an aptitude of the most extreme predator. Its only disadvantage was that it couldn't fly, but its speed when it pounced on its prey outmatched many dragons' reactions time to take the sky. Rumors have it that its claws could pierce the tusk of a Bewilderbeast. But now, this dragon was standing docilely beside Ombre, whose hands were running softly across its neck.

"Impressive." Tyrad complimented.

"Tyrad, Magnus, gather everyone all of the clan, it's time for us to give our dear friend a proper goodbye," Ombre asked. The other two Headless nodded and swiftly exited the cave.

•—0—•

The fifty or so Headless members all gathered in a secluded cave on the other side of the mountain. Despite their numbers, the cave was large enough to fit everyone comfortably. In the middle lay a bandaged corpse, which weighted heavily on each one's heart. Everyone held in a cup in which the concentrated alcohol was lit on fire, shining the cave a warming glow.

The respectful silence was broken by Tyrad walking up near the corpse. Taking a deep breath, he spoke out loud.

"Eir's differentiation was emotional stillness, may it guide him after and guide those after him." These simple words are the farewell ritual of the Headless clan, and Tyrad completed his part by pouring some content of his cup onto the body. The oiled bandages caught easily on fire. Watching the flame coming to life, Tyrad raised his head upwards and emptied the content of its cup. The still-lit alcohol traveled down his throat, and Tyrad winced at the pain of his throat burning up.

Next up was Magnus, who whispered a word of goodbye to his friend and down the cup as well, showing no emotion.

One by one, each Headless came up the body and poured a bit out of the cup before drinking the rest of it.

The ashes were then collected by Tyrad in a jar, promptly sealed with wax, and then stored in a small chamber. That chamber's entrance was then collapsed by using condensed Nightmare gel.

Walking out of the cave, each Headless swiftly went back to their task, none of them were in the mood to make small talk with each other, and each one trying to forget the burial with work.

•—0—•

The next day, the whole island was awoken by the sound of a commotion. Many Vikings gathered around near the canteen. They were surrounding one burly-looking Viking, dressed in a red scaly armor sporting the emblem of a bear skull, who was currently shouting murder to one sporting a greasy-looking bear, green tunic, and a small iron helmet, and draped on a wolf fur small cape.

"I'll kill you, you forsaken troll, I'll hang you by your inside for the crow to feast on!" Shouted the first, looking like a crazed animal, and if it wasn't for the established rule of no mindless brawling and a young girl clutching to his pants, he would have already lunged at the other one.

"Comm 'on, I 'like to see you try!" Taunted the second one, scratching his bear mindlessly. Despite looking like drunks, the Viking understood the rules of the island very well. The Headless tribe had prohibited coming to fists, probably because having an island of drunken Vikings from the different tribes will result in a lot of repairs, and had banned challenge duels as well. The revoked traditions first sported an uproar in the assimilated tribes, but no one dared to challenge the Headless'autority, especially when every single one of them could be you into submission with one hand in less time than one can say "I forfeit." That aspect of brutality was demonstrated only one time, by Tyrad, and one time is all that it took for the belligerent Viking to quietly abide by the rules. Therefore, despite the skull-wearing Viking shooting every possible insult to this side and the other of the Archipelago, neither one had drawn their blade.

The commotion finally alerted a Headless, making her way through the crowd, she yelled.

"What is going on?" But her shout fell deaf to the ears of the two fighting victims. Grunting, she interposed herself between the two, grabbing both their wrist, she swiftly turned them to the point of breaking. Under the pressure of her iron vice-like grip and the threat of having their wrist broken, both Vikings stopped yelling profanities at each other, the sound of their arguments dying with the sound of the surrounding crowd.

"Now, what are you two doing?" She gritted between her teeth. It was mainly her duty to assure the island ran smoothly,

"That pig-born tried to ruin the purity of my daughter!" The sporting the bear skull said shouted.

"Liar, that vixen tried to seduce me!" the bearded one shouted back.

The Headless, Minerva, shouted silently. Another one of this case. Glad I'm not the one supposed to end this. She gladly added the last thought. Situations like the current ones are usually the worst, because most likely it happened without witnesses, turning usually into a shouting match. Luckily, it was Tyrad's job the seek out the truth, she could just sit back and watch the whole situation unfold. It was the mere entertainment outside of training that this island had to offer.

Luckily for her, Tyrad was the next Headless to arrive on the scene, after briefly asking around what happened, he let out a deep sight, dreading the hassle that will come forth.

"All right. "He shouted, everyone back to what they are supposed to be doing." Before lowering his voice and saying to the father-daughter pair. "You two, come with me." Turning heels, he walked down the catwalks to a secluded house, away from prying ears.

•—0—•

The next day, as the sun started to disappear, the sound of a horn gathered most of the island to the northern cliffside. Its dented shape poked out into the ocean, down the sharp, rocky surface of the cliffside. The soft grass didn't grow too wild, a sign that it was a place that was regularly walked on. Indeed, it was the place where trials took place on this island, as well as, as an unwritten rule, a place where only the Headless came to appreciate the beauty of gold bouncing on the sapphire ocean.

But this peaceful place was currently filled up with Vikings, awaiting the verdict of the trial.

On one side was the father and daughter pair, and on the opposite was the accused bearded Viking alongside the chief of his tribe. Said chief felt uneasy, because either way, this will severely tarnish his reputation within the affiliated tribes.

"Listen up. Fellow brothers," Tyrad, presiding per usual, "We gather here to pronounce the truth about the situation that many have seen yesterday, and all had heard about." Waiting for dramatic effect, Tyrad added "We have concluded that the accused is pronounced guilty. " The last word acted like a fuze: the crowd quickly erupted into chaos, but Magnus and Ombre, alongside the other present Headless, quickly brought order.

"Impossible!" Shouted the accused Viking, "This is an outright lie!"

"Then how do you explain that we found traces of wolf fur underneath her nails?" Tyrad asked

"Many else wears wolf fur!" The accused Viking shouted back. "How is that enough to pronounce me guilty?"

"Of course, not" Tyrad added, but we have found traces of green linen and traces of bear fur, on her as well, and it was confirmed by the seamstress that it was indeed the same thread as the one we collected from you."

Backed off, the bearded Viking hesitated. "But she attacked me first, and I was just defending myself."

"Interesting, because yesterday you said that she tried to seduce you?" Tyrad retorted with a smirk " So which one is it? And do you seriously believe that someone of your size is going to have a hard time finding one a young girl that isn't of marrying age?"

Feeling like a cornered beast, the Viking tried to say something back, but his chief cut him off.

"Did you do it, Bjorn, tell me the truth." The chief was visibly angry. His tribe's notoriety was already low among the other tribes, and he couldn't let something this big tarnish it even more. "As your chief, I order you to speak the truth."

"I did it." "Is that what you want to hear. Yes, I did." Bjorn shouted out, defying everyone's startled gaze.

But when the words died out, Bjorn was suddenly thrown to the ground, punched by his enraged chief.

"How could you do something like that?" He shouted while delivering a kick to the ribs. "My name is already tarnished enough here, and you went to spread mud on it even more? You cattle born, son of a pig!"

Baffled, the crowd could only watch as the chief delivered blow after blow to the downed Viking, shouting his depleting notoriety.

"So it was always about the image that you uphold in front of them, ain't it chief?" Bjorn muttered with his bloodied mouth. "You through our pride out long ago when we bowed down to the Headless, and you try to act like their pet, licking their boot! The shame upon your name was brought on when you lowered your head and allowed them to step on you!" He added while spitting blood on his chief boot.

"What? You don't understand, do you? You aren't chief, so you didn't know about what was going on behind the scene when they came to us. Your daily life didn't change, your status didn't change, and we aren't conquered! You just had to behave yourself, and let me do this job, and yet, you failed that." Spat back Bjorn's chief, while arming another punch. But this time, his wrist was grabbed by Magnus.

"Easy, don't kill the accused before we deliver the sentence." Sternly warned the short-haired Headless.

The chief, his wrist crushed by Magnus' iron grip, could only let out a frustrated grunt before finally letting the aggressiveness go. Shaking the other Viking's hand off, he walked away, saying

"Do as you please we him, my tribe never had pig-born cattle like him."

Eyeing off that chieftain, Tyrad turned back his gaze towards Magnus. "Let's go," said the shorter Headless, before heading toward the very edge of the cliff. Magnus forced Bjorn on his knee, facing the ocean.

"And now, we shall deliver your sentence" Said Tyrad towards the crowd that followed them.

"Heh" Grunted Bjorn, "what's it going to be, you lot going to exile me? I don't care about that, and when I'm free from your shackles and away from that fool of a chief, no one is going to judge for what I am going to do." He spat out, an evil grin on his face.

"No, no, no," Tyrad said cheekily, kneeling in front of Bjorn. "Your punishment is much milder, or worse, for you lot, than exile."

"How?" Bjorn spat at the Headless face." I have been here long enough to know that you don't take slaves, nor do you kill Vikings, even less straight up executed them."

"Indeed, we don't kill Vikings, because we value the life of the base, but, you're not a Viking are you?" Tyrad added

"What do you mean?"

"Your chief renounced your member as a fellow tribesman, didn't he? He even called you cattle." Gripping Bjorn's jaw, Tyrad stared deep into the other Viking's eyes, making sure to memorize its gaze and look to add into his book. "We do kill cattle every day on this island."

"Wait, wait," Bjorn panicked, finally realizing that he was indeed going to be killed, but before he could finish, his plea was drowned out by the deafening sound of his neck getting snapped by Magnus.

Holding Bjorn's head in one hand, Magnus drove his knee into the Viking's neck, while snapping its neck in the opposite, effectively breaking its spine.

For crowds, it was just the insignificant sound of bones being snapped in half, to which many were used to. When the sound was carried away by the wind, the crowd scattered, some of them shocked, the others speaking in their breath curses along the lines of well-deserved.

The last one to leave the cliff was the father and daughter pair. The father gave a humble bow and whispered words of thanks before walking away with his daughter, cradling her gently. Even though he would like to kill that bastard himself, he knew that he forfeited this right when he joined the Headless.

Soon enough, it was just Ombre, alone on the cliffside, looking at the dying sun shining its last light on the corpse.

"You're here awfully fast" Ombre, without bothering to turn around to meet the figure walking up to him.

"Let's just say that someone bonded the Alpha on this island at the right time." The figure, clad in grey armor, answered swiftly, before meeting Ombre up, and looking at the corpse.

"What did he do?" the armored man, none other than the Messenger, asked.

"Tried to ruin the purity of somebody's daughter, I heard. Someone he thought that we wouldn't kill him." Ombre answered with a scuff. "So, crows or fish?" The Headless suddenly added.

"What?"

"Fish it is." Without waiting for a proper answer, Ombre kicked the corpse down the cliff, and both watched the body disappear into the waves.

The scene was oddly unnerving, watching them talk so casually about disposing of someone's corpse, and yet, a strong tension reigned between the two, as if both are planning each other's doom.

"Either, I got to get going." The Messenger said, "Meet me where the sun appears before the end of this moon cycle."

Turning away, he mounted one of the two grey dragons that were peacefully resting behind the two and swiftly took off.

Watching the trio leave the island, Ombre whispered "I'll take everything from you, just like you did back in my past."


A bridge chapter that seeds the last part of this story.

Thanks for reading.

WF