Hi.
I realize a lot of you are probably anxious to get to the story after such a ridiculously long hiatus, so my full explanation (read: list of excuses) will be detailed in an A/N at the bottom of this chapter for those who wish to read it. For now, let me just say I am so, so sorry for the wait, and that I'm incredibly grateful for those of you who have been patient enough to come back to this story after for this long.
Thank you all so much.
I don't own How to Train Your Dragon.
It took a full minute — some small voice in the back of his mind was counting, even as the rest of it went blank — of standing frozen atop the cliffs, before Toothless finally growled at Hiccup, snapping him out of his fixed stare at the battered ships below him.
"I-I… Sorry, bud…" He blinked. His eyes only left the boats for a second to stare at the dragon, before traveling back to them. "It's just, they're, they're—"
As he gestured down at them, he caught sight of several figures filing across a plank to the dock, no doubt greeting his father, Spitelout, and whatever other Vikings had warily followed him down to see the newcomers. Some from Berk had gone to help the wounded that he already knew must have been aboard — the few healers left on the island since they had sailed out — while others went out of horrid curiosity, just to gauge the damage the enemy tribe had in store for Berk. For most of the onlookers, though, it was probably both.
"—They're alive…" He finished, hands falling to his side.
The dragon gave a questioning purr.
"N-not that that's a bad thing, of course," he stuttered, seeing Toothless's raised brow. "Or that I'm surprised… Well, I am a little… I mean, ah—"
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before opening his mouth again. His eyes turned back longingly to the village for a moment, before trailing back to the docks.
"...We should go see them."
He decided they should walk instead of glide down, much for the same reason he had avoided doing so with Astrid. Though, this time, it was for a much less positive reason, despite the fact he had been about as scared then as he was now, if not even more.
And besides, just like before, it gave him time to stall.
"Hello… Welcome to Berk. I'm sorry I betrayed your entire tribe and left you all on a burning island to die," he muttered, slapping a palm to his forehead as they descended.
"Gods, I just wanted to do the right thing, is that too much to ask? Every time I try to do anything at all, the gods just decide, 'No, Hiccup Haddock. You won't be making any progress today, or any day, for that matter,'" he said, lowering his voice to the closest 'Odin' his vocal cords could manage.
"They're… They're going to kill me for what I did, aren't they? Gods, how am I supposed to tell them why I… I…"
He sighed, and glanced again at the dragon beside him. "You got any ideas, bud?"
But Toothless was still looking ahead to the docks, now little more than twenty feet away, where he assumed a few Vikings had disembarked. His father stood watching them, his back Hiccup, blocking most of their view with his sheer width.
Toothless sniffed at the air for a moment, before stopping to give a quiet purr, baleful eyes full of concern and ears pinned down to the back of his neck.
The stench of death, Hiccup thought to himself, grimacing as the dragon stared up at him. Death… And betrayal.
His father turned to greet him as they approached.
"Ah... Hiccup," he practically whispered, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You remember the Chief, I'm sure…"
Indeed, a weary Chief Halvar stood behind him, and Hiccup began to breathe a sigh of relief, before catching it. Only air came out when he opened his mouth to speak.
"I… Ahem… Wanted… Make an apology…" he eventually managed, as the two men stared at him. Their stony gazes seemed to bore a hole through him, and he had to force himself not to look away. Eventually, Halvar gave a tight smile of his own, and kneeled down to his eye level.
"Hiccup," he told him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't try to hide it, my boy — I can see the guilt you feel in your eyes. I know you may feel the choice you made on our island was wrong. No Viking likes to run away from a fight— I know that… All too well. But trust me— you did the right thing. I think your father would agree with ye' on that."
"He's right," his father nodded. "And don't let anyone tell you otherwise, son. What you did was an honorable thing. I understand it was a hard choice for you to make. But I… we don't know what might've happened if you'd stayed. Coming back here, you saved Astrid's life, and yours, and maybe even this entire island's when the day comes."
"With that said, Hiccup," Halvar's voice dropped down to an even lower whisper, eyes darting around the docks anxiously. "Just keep in mind... While few will blame you for leaving — few knew ye' did, to be fair — there are those who will still blame you for the attack altogether."
As Hiccup's eyes widened, Halvar quickly added. "Not myself, of course— it's a noble cause we're fighting for, after all, peace with the dragons. And they have made this a personal battle, now. Anyone who can't see that is a damned blind fool... But… some of my people lost things they care for, Hiccup. We all lost our home, but... well, some lost much more. Things they'll never get back… Never can get back."
They took something away from me that I'll never get back. I can never forgive them for that, Syl's words suddenly rang in the forefront of his mind, from a midnight visit that already seemed to have been ages ago.
He blinked again, as something else suddenly replaced the thought. "Where's Langley and…"
His voice trailed off as he began to search for the two, specifically for Langley, his tall form normally sticking out even among the massive frames of the Vikings.
Having not looked up, he missed the Chief's face drain of color. "I…" He stumbled in place, and Stoick wrapped an arm around his shoulder, keeping him upright. Halvar muttered a thanks, eyes still staring blankly at the ground as he struggled to catch his breath. "He…"
At just that moment, though, Hiccup's eyes caught sight of a face, and he grinned. "Iona!"
"Hiccup…" Stoick said, but Hiccup was already pushing his way through the crowd of exhausted Vikings, toward her. He had caught sight of no more than an eye, and just for a second, but long enough to recognize it. It was hers. Which meant she was alive. Which meant they were alive. And everything was going to be okay.
It could've been under better circumstances, he decided, but it was the silver lining in their gloomy arrival he was more than willing to take. He could show them Berk, how they lived with dragons in peace and harmony! Their dragons might even manage to find them, wherever they were, and they could finally all decide on names for both of them—Gods, he wondered if they'd ever even left their own island before!
Then he saw it again — her face, searching the crowd with a frown for the voice calling out to her. And in his eyes, he saw Iona. His friend.
Except... it wasn't.
She looked twenty years aged from only a few days before. Her cheeks and skin were pulled taut against her skull, as if sealed to the bone. Her jaw jutted out slightly, chin and brows set so firmly in a half-scowl her whole face might've been carved from stone. Her hair, usually loose and free, was tied in a hasty, three-strand warmaiden's braid, similar to Astrid's. Where hers was thicker and more fluid, though, Iona's was thin and pulled taught, like the stay of a ship, frayed and tense after passing through a rough storm, threatening to snap at any moment.
She held herself rigid, straight and upright, feet spread apart in a combat stance as if she expected an attack at any given moment, the greatsword strapped to her back and knife on her belt practically asking for one. She wore a mismatching set of armor that seemed to itself dare someone to mention its disparities — iron shoulder pads, a chainmail chest piece, leggings and thick steel-and-fur boots, each of which looked polished as well as they could be for their wear and age.
Perhaps the only semblance of the girl Hiccup had met a few days before laid in her eyes — and even they had changed. The innocence — the secret, cautious happiness in them before had vanished like a small, flickering flame stomped into ash. The constant fear, the unease within them was all that remained, carefully concealed behind steel and iron plate.
Hiccup, though, didn't glance at her long enough to see anything different before he launched her into a hug. He hadn't been planning on it, nor was it really like him, as Toothless's confused purr from behind him highlighted, but seeing her there, alive, had been enough to bring it out of him.
Instead of returning it, though, she shoved him away, bringing her right hand over her shoulder to grasp her sword hilt before she recognized him.
"Oh. Hiccup," she said, her voice stronger and colder than he had ever known it to be before. "Don't do that."
"I… Y-yeah," he said, heart falling slightly as he truly took in her appearance for the first time. "I'll… I'm sorry… I won't—"
"Good," she nodded curtly, then started glancing around again. "Where's your friend? The one with the Nadder?"
"... Astrid?" He asked.
"Yes. That's her. Where is she? I need to speak with her."
"I… I don't know…" Still half in shock, Hiccup wracked his brain for an explanation to how this could have happened, what must have occurred in the few days since he had left that resulted in… This. Because this… It wasn't Iona. This was a warrior, a shieldmaiden, not the shy, timid girl with a terrible terror from the Clouded Valley tribe he remembered. Had they been attacked again? Had the battle truly hardened her so much? It baffled him, like a puzzle with a missing piece he couldn't see.
A puzzle… With a missing… Piece…
Hiccup might've slapped himself if his whole body hadn't gone completely cold just then.
"Where's Langley?"
Whatever steel held up her frame snapped, as her eyes grew to the size of saucers.
And the puzzle piece fell into place.
Hiccup's breathing grew shaky, and quick. "No… No, that can't be poss…"
When he looked up at Iona, she was shaking. Her head was turned to the sea, to the direction of the island — their island. Tears lined the bottom of her eyes, and her lip quivered as she inhaled and exhaled, slow, quiet breaths.
When she saw him looking at her, though, she bared her teeth, and pushed past him. "Get away from me!"
"Wait… Iona!" He called, as she stormed down the docks, to the island, Vikings from her tribe parting almost habitually as she made her way up the cliff face. He made to run after her, Toothless following behind him, but a hand grabbed his shoulder before he could reach her.
He turned to see his father staring down at him, while Halvar looked to Iona's disappearing form, the deepest of despair and helplessness marring his face. Langley was his nephew, Hiccup remembered. He was his nephew. Because Langley was… Was...
"Give her some time, Hiccup," Stoick told him, voice as soft as the Viking could manage as he followed his stare, which had returned to the girl. For just a moment, Hiccup almost could've mistaken the girl's small, disappearing form and near-black hair for another, before she disappeared.
His father gave a sigh. "It's a hard thing to lose someone ye' care about, after all."
Sad, Syl grimaced as she leaned against a supporting beam of Stormfly's pen. Her eyes ran over the poor, pitiful creature in front of her, assessing.
"How is she?" She asked.
Gobber looked up at her, a frown on his face to match.
"Alright, for now," he told her. "The wound'll fester if it's given any more time than it's already had, though, especially out here. I'm still not sure how to treat these beasts, if I'm bein' honest with ye'. We have an herbal salve we use fer' infections most of tha' time, but all the rest's bein' used for the Clouded Valley's wounded, and I don't even know whether it'll work with 'er."
Syl raised a brow. "Johann?"
"Can't say," Gobber shook his head. "He might 'ave something, but it'd be a gods-given miracle for him to sail 'ere this close to winter, anyway, and with the war so close, I doubt he wants to be seen as pickin' favorites."
She raised her chin, taking another look at the dragon, before standing up. "Alright, then. Wait here."
"Shouldn't ye' still be back at Eira's with Gothi, anyway, Astr— Hey, where ye' goin?!" Gobber started. But Syl was already running back through the village as quickly as she dared — though Gothi had permitted her to walk closeby in the village, her limbs were still sore, and her wrist not yet fully healed. And Syl more than understood the consequences of putting too much strain on herself, even when fresh air and freedom from the healer's house and Gothi's watching eyes were now so easily within reach.
Now, though, she was racing back to Gothi's hut. An idea had been formulating in her mind since the moment she stepped into Stormfly's pen and saw the wound, knowing Gobber must not have been able to treat it well from the start.
Bursting through the front door, an excuse was already coming out of Syl's lips for why she was there; and, of course, why she had snuck out of bed. But she noticed, almost immediately, that Gothi wasn't there. There was no backroom aside from the privy, and though a ladder led to a small loft above them, Gothi never used it, her short and old legs incapable, aside from having no reason to even climb up to it. It wasn't her house, after all.
Narrowing her eyes, she stepped into the room, floorboards creaking beneath her feet. She wouldn't put it past the old woman to already know her intentions, there, somehow.
But nothing exploded or burst into flame, and so with a shrug, Syl walked over to her workstation. Above it was a series of shelves stacked with colorful poultices, herbs and liquids she and Hiccup had together brought down from her hut so she could continue her work there — whatever her work happened to be, anyway. Even with what Syl was learning from the books, she couldn't understand how the old woman kept herself entertained with any of it anymore, never mind find a use for it besides the basic remedies, recipes, and salves Berk and the rest of the archipelago had been using for generations already.
On the top shelf, though, sitting what must have been just barely within Gothi's reach, Syl spotted it, and smiled. A small, sealed glass jar was pushed back against the wall, its contents — a few flat chunks of something like an opaque amber, sitting in a dust of the same color — barely filling a quarter of it.
She had spotted it while she was still bedridden, having had abundant time to study the room and, once she brought them down, Gothi's materials. It hadn't really occurred to her as anything too special… That was, until she started reading the books Gothi had provided her with. Though she could find few actual descriptions of either its contents or its appearance, nor did it seem possible that the old woman would possess such a thing, what little she did find was enough to convince her that, somehow, this really was it. Her closer examination now only confirmed it for her. It did seem like the kind of oddity the old woman might have, and assuming it was what Syl thought, it could save the Nadder's life. Of course, if it wasn't… Well, they would just have to find out.
Just as she reached out to grab it, though, Syl hesitated, her eyes darting back around the room once more. If there was ever a perfect time for the woman to seemingly materialize and give her a scolding, dirt-messages and staff head-thwacks included…
But the woman still wasn't there. So Syl shrugged, figuring she must have just been out back gathering wood for the cauldron fire in the center of the room… Which, for the first time since she had woken up there, Syl realized, was completely cold...
Okay, weird… Syl mused, glancing around the room warily for other abnormalities. It didn't take her long to spot the next one, now that she was looking; unless she had locked it up somewhere, the Compendium, too, was missing.
Syl sucked in her breath, and then, realizing she was holding it in, exhaled in a nervous laugh. She was being ridiculous. The woman couldn't always be cooped up inside the house, even if it seemed that way sometimes. Syl shouldn't have been complaining, either — she was technically stealing, after all.
Shaking her head, she took the jar down from the shelf, and opened it. Her nose wrinkled as she caught a whiff of what smelled a bit like sharp garlic, mixed with something more natural, and dulled. Taking another jar, she poured two of the small, plate-like chunks into it, before closing the original and replacing it on the shelf. Gothi wouldn't mind her taking some, anyway, she reasoned. Certainly not if she never found out.
Closing her own jar, she grabbed a small iron pot resting near the fire, moved to the door, and was halfway through closing it behind her when she stopped herself.
It... is kinda weird she didn't let me know she was leaving… Or even leave a note, she thought, unable to stop herself from shooting a glance back into the room. It not only looked but felt much darker, compared to the warmth and light she had grown used to. Maybe something happened…
Then she snorted again. Maybe I'm getting soft. What do I care? I have my own business, and she has hers. If I'm not her responsibility, she's not mine, either.
Still, though, she found herself promising to ask if anyone had seen the old woman later, if she didn't show up soon.
Gobber was still kneeling down in front of Stormfly when she returned, concerned wrinkles etching across his gruff features. The Nadder gave a low, pained croon, and he laid a gentle hand on her side, brushing her scales.
"Easy… Easy, girl," he whispered, turning his head at Syl's arrival.
"Not like ye' to run off on me in the middle of a conversation, Astrid…" He said, his voice almost gravely deep. Then he shrugged. "Guess yer' just growin' up. Can't be bothered to listen to what ol' Gobber has to say, 'ey?" He gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Well, fair enough. But don't ye' forget te' respect yer' elders, Astrid. They're wiser than ya' might think," He knocked his hammer-hand against his helm with a grin. "Now, what've ye' got for me?"
Trying her very best to suppress an eye-roll, Syl held out the jar. Gobber raised a brow, clueless.
"What is it?" He asked.
The rarest piece of rock you'll ever lay eyes on, Syl had to stop herself from saying.
Silphium. A plant — a flower, specifically — long since extinct, cultivated by some ancient, far-away civilization, according to the books Gothi had stacked up at her bedside. Luckily, where they lacked information on its history, they made up for it with descriptions and accounts of its dozens of medicinal uses, from relief of internal pain to external, as a salve or as an herb to ingest — and, of course, to treat infection. It was, by all means, a miracle plant. And she had a sample — perhaps the last in existence — of its resin in that jar.
"Probably not anything too special," she replied, trying to exude Astrid's level of ignorance pertaining to anything she couldn't smash with an axe or yell at. "But I think it can help her. Gothi gave it to me — it's something she said we should try."
Gobber's brow only raised higher, but after a moment, he grunted. "Well, if Gothi suggested it… Surprised she didn't come here herself, but… What're we doin' with it?"
Syl allowed herself an internal sigh of relief, and held up the iron pot in her other hand. "Is the fire still going in your shop?"
"Far as I know," he said, standing up. "Boilin' it, are we?"
She nodded. Gobber smiled at her knowingly, and with one more reassuring brush of the pathetic dragon's nose, began hobbling out of the pen.
As she turned to follow him, though, the Nadder gave another low, soft groan, and Syl found herself turning around to stare at the creature with a grimace.
It's just for show, she told herself. She still needed to look like she gave a damn what happened to the dragon, for appearances. It served as practice, too, for her lessons. This wasn't really 'magic' of any kind, of course, but she was still learning something new... even if it was just the raw materials she was really taking advantage of, here. Besides, there was no telling how angry Astrid would be if she ever found out her dragon was in this kind of state, and Hiccup would probably tell Astrid if he found out, too, and… and…
She heard a snort from behind her, and whipped around to put the culprit in his place, but saw only Gobber whistling to himself as he staggered down the hill.
"What was that?" She demanded, maybe a bit too harshly, even by Astrid's standards.
"Oh, me?" He said, turning around with a smile on his face. "Nothin' much. Just nice to see ye' kids care so much about yer dragons, is all. A bit funny, really."
Syl opened her mouth, ready to give a snide reply, probably about how the dragon would die if she didn't step in herself, but another low croon from behind her made the words catch in her throat. She glanced at her again to see two large, round, baleful eyes staring up into hers. And besides that...
The dragon almost seemed to be… Smiling, at her… As if she was… grateful. As if she knew, somehow, that Syl was trying to help her.
"Y-yeah," she said, shooting the Nadder a short smirk, before turning back to follow Gobber down the hill. "I guess it is."
"They hid around the island for two days and nights," Hiccup told Astrid that night in the cove, retelling the solemn account the Chief had given him. "There were some ships still moored out in the harbor, and a few at the docks had survived.
"When the battle began, they'd routed the fighting up through the main path, falling back along the river, and sent two Vikings back up to bring the young and old and all those unable to fight out of the Longhouse, down along the edges of the village to the ships, while the fighting was kept along the river."
Despite it all, he found himself smiling as he continued. "Langley and Iona were those two leading the groups, on opposite sides of the village. When Iona got to the docks she managed to get all of her group onto two ships that were still mostly intact — they put out the parts that were on fire, anyway. But Langley's group…
"When they reached the docks on their side... there weren't any ships left. They'd all burnt down, and… And some of the enemy Vikings had stayed behind at the docks on his side, after they landed on shore, to make sure no one tried to escape. They were trapped — they would have to cross the length of the village in order to get to Iona's group, and the remaining ships. It would draw too much attention. But Langley, he…"
"He ran out of the buildings, and drew as many as he could down the docks, into the bay, toward the burning ships, knowing… knowing it was a dead end. Those he was leading made a run for the other side, to the ships still floating that Iona was leading her group onto. Every one of them made it, thanks to him. Thanks to his… Sacrifice.
"Then…" He swallowed hard as he prepared his next words. When he looked down, his hands were shaking. "The Chief said he could hear his battle cry from across the village. Not a call to aid… A… A last farewell... He was overwhelmed by them as he tried to fight them off, cornered among the burning ships in an instant, bleeding out. Iona h-had to… watch, from her ship, too far away to do anything… But then…"
His voice quivered now as he spoke, as did the rest of his body. He hugged his arms against his chest tightly, and choked back another wave of tears. "T-they said i-it was like a… a miracle… His Nadder swooped down and picked him up, carried him to one of the ships, before flying away. But he was just too… t-too…"
"Too late." He let out a long, unsteady breath. "Iona was with a different group, on a different ship, and the two were too far apart — they were already leaving, trying to escape. By the time they had gotten away, that Iona could finally get to him… Get to see him… What was left of him..."
He took a moment to compose himself, still clenching his fists and teeth. "The Chief and everyone left from the battle lead them up over the hills, into the fog. They lost them there, and the ships sailed around the island to meet them. They… They sailed straight to Berk after… After the funeral. Only a few were lost, but…
"They said Iona was… changed, on the way back. At first, she wouldn't talk to… to anyone. Then she found some armor and a sword — or stole it, they said they wouldn't have stopped her either way, then — and… She's been… Like that, ever since."
Astrid stared up at him, mouth slightly agape, ears pinned back against her head. After a moment, though, she closed it, and sat down on her haunches in front of him. Then, reaching a paw out, she pulled him Against her chest, and he tried to hold back another sob, before letting it go, the tears streaming down his face.
Toothless walked up from behind them, giving a low purr, and Astrid looked at him, helplessly. Shaking his head, he nudged the fur coat on his rider's back, crooning. Astrid released him, and Hiccup turned to give his best friend a smile, still sniffling.
The two comforted the boy for a few minutes longer, as the sun set over the crest of the cove. Eventually, they settled, she and Toothless lying on the ground, Hiccup curled in the cavity beneath his Night Fury's front leg.
"I… Could've done something," he murmured, staring at the ground.
NOT YOUR FAULT
Astrid wrote, nodding at him. He didn't meet her eyes. She wasn't even sure if he read it.
"I could have… Now Langley's… Gone. Because I… Because we ran away! We could've stayed behind, taught those stupid cowards a lesson, maybe I… I could've saved him. I could've saved more of them. Gods, I should sail to that island right now and just—" He was up on his feet, making a strangling motion with his hands, and Astrid gave a small screech, cutting him off as she reared up to her forelegs herself. She wasn't used to seeing Hiccup like this. Like her. And the few times she had…
Seeming to realize what he was doing, his breath caught, and he stared at his hands for a moment, before letting them fall to his side as his whole body sagged.
"I could've…" he tried once more, before collapsing back down to the ground in defeat, burying his face in his hands.
Astrid and Toothless let him cope in silence for some time, doing everything they could without speech to lift the guilt that seemed to weigh on his shoulders like the sky itself. Toothless curled around him; Astrid did her part otherwise, gathering sticks for a fire, lifting a wing to block the wind from him whenever a strong gust blew down into the ravine. A bit much, maybe, but she hated seeing him like this.
Hiccup had spoken of Langley and Iona only in passing, and mostly in the weeks after the first missions out to the islands. When he did, though, it had always been fondly. The two were the only kids that had come forward, he'd said, and embraced with both curiosity and excitement the otherwise terrifying and alarming idea he presented; dragons and humans, living together in harmony.
There were other kids from the islands, of course. But, according to Hiccup, they were mostly too young and scared to even go near the dragons, too shy to try, too prideful of their parents' values to do anything but cross their arms and turn up their noses, if not spit threats and accusations at their feet as the Berkians were forced to leave; the list went on and on. No one wanted to be the first to betray generations of tradition, to go against what their parents and grandparents and their grandparents had instilled in all their minds since birth. Adults, normally the Chieftains, were the only ones who ever bothered to even consider the beasts, and even then usually under the assumption it would mean an end to the raids — which Hiccup's father often told him to just go along with, despite Hiccup's insistence that the dragons would stop raiding, anyway.
Hiccup had never met Langley or Iona during the Queen's — the Red Death's — reign, as far as Astrid knew. Yet they had practically greeted him like family from the moment the Berkians disembarked from their ships, he'd said, as had most of the rest of the island. His father claimed that years of trading with the many different islands of the archipelago had bred an air of hospitality in their people, that was taught and passed down through each and every family there; more than just a little surprising, from a tribe of Vikings. A relatively small and lifeless island dependent mostly on others, they had survived in part due to their location; while dragons could weave in and out of Helheim's Gate easily, the thick blanket surrounding the Clouded Valley kept even them out, for the most part. But for what they lacked in size, they made up for in heart. It was really no surprise that Hiccup took to them so well. Or they to him.
Of course, the dragons aboard their ships gave them some hesitation — but if anything, Hiccup had said, where others looked at them with eyes of distrust, suspicion, and bitterness, theirs was more of a "reserved curiosity," as he had put it. And that wasn't to mention the most notable of all the creatures there; the mysterious, black dragon every Viking hoped to kill, standing at the side of the scrawny son of Berk's Chief; a beast, the devil among demons, of which there had only ever been rumors about. The Night Fury. No one, not even the curious eyes of the Clouded Valley tribe, could look at that creature with absolute confidence or comfort.
She found her eyes wandering once again up to the almost statuelike Toothless, where he laid sheltering Hiccup.
He seemed… Tense, she decided. She shouldn't have been surprised — Hiccup was especially vulnerable right now, meaning Toothless probably felt he had to be even more protective than usual… But in the way his claws dug into the dirt in front of him, the way his back arched, like the limb of some old tree, so bent it seemed ready to snap in half; it went far beyond just anticipating a threat. His eyes stared blankly, yet sternly off into the distance, waiting for something, like an island tribe bracing itself for a dark storm broiling over the horizon.
Then her frown deepened as she realized why, wishing she could slap herself for being so stupid — the promise. That night, during their next lesson, he was going to tell her, going to explain everything. She couldn't believe she had come so close to forgetting; she wondered if Toothless would even remind her if she had.
She had been able to piece some of it together herself, but some parts of the puzzle still eluded her. It was clear this had something to do with memory, his memory — every time the 'Queen' came up in conversation, he grew distant, the fog beginning to appear in his eyes that never failed to terrify her, wondering he was about to launch into another attack, before he shook it off, and changed the subject. In fact, anything from his past, from before he met Hiccup, seemed to make him grow unusually quiet, now. The Queen had used some form of mind control on them, Astrid guessed, something to force them to bend to her will. And his attacks… Must have had something to do with that, but she still wasn't sure what. The one time she had seen it herself, had tried to speak to him, to pull him out of it, she had found only an all-consuming maelstrom in his mind, trying to pull her in, to destroy her very being. If that was what he had to battle each time, if that was what was slowly but surely and viciously chipping, eating away at the Toothless they knew…
It was a miracle there was anything of him left.
Grimacing, she began to open her mind, feeling she needed to reassure him, somehow. She never got the chance.
A loud, booming CRACK resonated throughout the cove, shaking the ground beneath her feet and echoing off the walls for several seconds, before it faded. Toothless flinched, and reared his head up, eyes narrowed. Choking back another sob, Hiccup rubbed his eyelids, and looked around, confused. Astrid jumped up. What in Odin's—
Again, her thoughts were cut off as the sound reverberated around the cove, making the ground vibrate beneath her feet. A sound like that… it could only have come from something large.
Astrid crouched down into a defensive stance Toothless had taught her, in front of Hiccup. Toothless followed a second later, letting a low sneer creep onto his face, flashing his teeth toward anything that moved.
"G-guys," Hiccup stuttered, his quavering voice turned fearful. "What… Wait— There!"
She turned to see his finger pointed up at the ledge. Both she and Toothless followed it, and saw it almost instantly… Saw her almost instantly.
Astrid blinked. Then she blinked again, and squinted.
Gothi stood hunched over her staff at the top of the ledge, staring down at them. In the light of the setting sun, her shadow stretched out and down into the cove like that of some great monolith, her staff a great, dark column cast over the floor where they stood. And though Hiccup probably couldn't see it, with Astrid's newfound dragon-sight, it was unmistakable.
The old woman was smiling.
They stood staring at her for a moment. She didn't move. Then, Hiccup turned to them, and opened his mouth to speak.
As he did, Gothi picked up her staff, and slammed it down against the rock.
Another loud CRACK echoed around the cove, much louder than a staff of her size or a woman of her feeble strength should've been able to make. She was tempted to grab at her ears as it seemed to reverberate through her skull, and her vision went blurry for a moment, before she grimaced, and closed her eyes. After a moment, it subsided, and she reopened them to glare up at the woman.
"I…" Hiccup risked talking again. "I think she wants us to go see her."
If that'll make her cut the damn stick out… she frowned, and turned to Hiccup, who was already climbing on Toothless.
"Oh," he said, seeming to realize the problem just then. "You can, ah… Well, just wait here, maybe we can fly her down to you, or, uh…
He bit his lip. "We'll figure something out."
He flashed her an apologetic smile, then, sheepish, looked away as she rolled her eyes. Toothless still stared at her.
"Astrid…" He started, frowning. "I know what you're thinking. You don't need to—"
She snorted, and shook her head. "It's… Fine, Toothless. I agreed to be more open about this… dragon stuff, anyway, remember? He was going to find out eventually. I can just tell him I've been practicing… jumping. He doesn't need to know everything yet. Besides, Gothi wouldn't come down here unless it were important… Hell, I don't even think I've seen her this far from the village before. Which could only mean she found something, or…" she paused, as the realization dawned on her. "Toothless, this could be it. This could be the cure."
His frown only seemed to deepen at this. Still, she continued, "And if it is… Well, what does showing him matter, anyway?"
Hiccup, who had clearly been trying to make it look like he wasn't watching their silent conversation, gave a short cough. "So, we'll just be right, uh—"
Astrid bolted past them, and thrust open her wings.
In seconds, she was in the air, and, after three quick, powerful wingbeats, was above the ledge, folding her wings in tightly the moment her feet touched the dirt.
Toothless landed behind her a moment later, and stepped up to her side, a small smirk now replacing his frown as he shook his head at her. You didn't have to show off, you know.
Hiccup, on the other hand…
"Y-you just…" he stammered, pointing back behind them at the cove, then to her. "And then… H-how long have you known how— Astrid?"
She hadn't met his eyes up to that point, but now she did, forcing herself to greet all they held; bewilderment, confusion, shock, and… Fear.
He met her eyes, too, and his mouth slowly closed, before he could let any more stupid words out of it. Because he saw the way she hunched her shoulders inward, the way she pinned her ears back against her head, how her maw shifted nervously and she held her limbs close to her body, as if trying to make herself smaller. He had seen it in Toothless before, when he did something wrong and knew it, or when Hiccup was upset.
She was ashamed.
He winced, and clambered off Toothless, making to move toward her to comfort her, before thinking better of it. "Astrid… There's nothing wrong with... You don't have to hide it if you've decided to start—"
She growled above his voice, and squeezed her eyes shut, turning away from him. Then she quickly scribbled in the dirt,
LATER
And hurried past him, leaving him to contemplate what had just happened on his own.
Gothi, thankfully, ignored the whole exchange, and got right to the point. She was already writing in the dirt herself when Hiccup and Toothless eventually walked over.
ASTRID
HICCUP
They both nodded. Gothi glanced up at Astrid with a raised brow.
I WOULD HOPE
HICCUP HAS TOLD YOU
WHAT I TOLD HIM
ABOUT THE BOOK?
She nodded again, and found herself shifting back and forth on her forelegs. This could be it. This could really be the cure — it hadn't hit her yet, but it did then. In a matter of hours, she could be back to her former self. Though it seemed odd that she wouldn't give them any warning before—
She froze suddenly, and her head whipped around to look at Toothless. Without any warning…
Of course. She'd been blind. Somehow, she had missed the sadness in his smile, the way his whole body had sagged as soon as they saw Gothi on that ridge. The way he avoided her gaze altogether, seemed to be almost keeping a distance between them...
Their pact… If she turned back into a human now, they would both have to break it. Which meant that he would never tell her what was happening to him — would never be able to tell her — and she couldn't hold up her end, either. Would never try experiencing being a dragon in the way he wanted her to understand so badly. For a moment, the issue seemed small and almost ridiculous next to the prospect of finally turning back to herself, but she soon found herself horrified by the thought. Toothless was her friend, and as long as… this, was happening to him, she would never be able to forgive herself. To think that soon she might not be able to talk to him at all...
We could… Wait, she told herself. Just call it off for a day or two… enough for him to tell us, then I could go back…
Yet in a way, this seemed even worse. They might not understand why Astrid would want Gothi to hold off whatever this was for a day, but Toothless would. And to stay a dragon just long enough for him to tell her was… Cruel. No, that wouldn't work. Maybe if she could get him to tell her right then, he would understand, and…
Before she could do anything, there was a sharp THWACK on her head, and she cried out, turning back to Gothi with a sneer. The woman was frowning, but had a look in her eye that told her she knew exactly what Astrid had been thinking — or close to it.
IT IS NOT SO SIMPLE CHILD
I HAVE FOUND
WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR YES
BUT IT WILL NOT BE SIMPLE
AS A SNAP OF MY FINGERS
TO BRING YOU BACK TO US
Astrid wasn't sure whether to feel better or worse, though Hiccup's shoulders seemed to droop as she finished.
BUT DO NOT LOSE HOPE
FOR THERE MAY BE A WAY
IN TRUTH
She paused for a moment, before continuing.
I DO NOT KNOW
WHAT THIS MIGHT DO
Astrid and Hiccup both looked at each other. After a moment, she nodded, and he turned back to Gothi.
"I think…" He said, straining to put confidence behind his words. "I think we can take our chances, at this point. And maybe… Maybe the gods will finally start smiling down on us."
While there were no sudden claps of thunder or other omens from the heavens, Gothi did smirk, and bent over to write again.
GOOD
BUT BEFORE WE BEGIN
She gestured at Toothless with her staff, still smiling.
WOULD YOU PILE SOME KINDLING
AND HAVE YOUR DRAGON START A FIRE?
THE EVENING GROWS COLD AND DARK
AND THIS SHALL TAKE SOME TIME
TO EXPLAIN IN FULL
It didn't take more than a few minutes to build the fire.
They chose to build it in a small clearing just a few feet from where they had been standing, far enough away from the trees that they didn't have to worry about loose embers. The past few days had been especially dry, but also cold — a telltale sign of winter's approach on Berk, as the old adage went. Luckily, it made finding firewood that much easier. Soon, they were all huddling around a small flame, like children patiently awaiting a tale of their ancestors from the village storyteller. Or… Two very oversized kids, and one child-sized teen, at least. Hiccup clearly appreciated the warmth, anyway, curling up in front of the fire not more than a moment after a small fireball from Toothless brought it to life.
Astrid settled down on the ground, too, and was soon followed by Toothless. Finally, Gothi stepped out in front of them, the light of the fire sending her shadow flitting and dancing about their small camp. Then she began to write.
THE STORY I AM ABOUT TO TELL YOU
IS SAID IN SOME PLACES
TO BE MORE LEGEND THAN TRUTH
I HAVE TOLD YOU OF THIS CITY'S NATURE
AND IN TRUTH
LITTLE MORE THAN WHAT I TOLD YOU BEFORE
EXISTS TO TELL
WHAT I HAVE HEARD OF IT
HAS NOT BEEN IN THE PAGES OF THIS BOOK
Gothi pointed her staff at the Compendium, where it sat a few feet away from the fire, and Astrid realized she must have brought it with her, though she hadn't seen her carrying it earlier.
BUT IN THE RUMORS AND STORIES
OF TRAVELLERS AND MERCHANTS
FROM MANY YEARS AGO
NOW I MIGHT COUNT ON A SINGLE HAND
THOSE WHO STILL KNOW
OF THE CITY OF THE PEOPLE
Not the most creative name, Astrid thought, glancing at Toothless with a smirk. But he was bent over, glaring at the words on the ground with malice. She frowned, and turned her attention back to Gothi.
Hiccup seemed about as enthused as one would expect him to be over anything to do with dusty books and old legends. "So that's what it's called, then? The City of the People?"
She nodded. Then she drew from a pouch at her waist a small, thin scroll, and unfurled it. She handed it to Hiccup, then began writing again.
FORGIVE ME
BUT MY LIMBS ARE OLD
AND GROW WEARY QUICKLY, NOW
I HAVE BEEN PREPARING
WHAT YOU MUST KNOW
HERE
FOR SOME TIME
IF YOU WOULD
HICCUP?
"O-of course," he replied, holding the scroll up to the fire, which Astrid realized was, in fact, several pieces of paper rolled together. Then he cleared his throat, and began.
"To Hiccup and Astrid. I thank you for waiting as you have for an answer, for so long. Your wills prove true to Viking-kind to do so, as I know you have faced many trials in the time it has taken me to study what I could of this book. It saddens me to say, though, I still cannot tell you whether my search was in vain. Only time will tell. But for now, take what you are about to hear as you will.
"To understand the Compendium, and the City of the People, we must look back at their history — or what little I have gathered myself.
"As I said before, those who would one day become the settlers of the City were once nothing more than nomads of intellect, when Berk itself was still young. A small band of ships, perhaps not more than a few hundred or even dozens of men or women, moved between the islands of the archipelago like a stone skipping water. Of what land these travelers hailed from, I cannot tell you — perhaps some were Vikings, but my guess would be many were foreigners from lands uncharted. Though a few, I'm sure, were just like… you, Hiccup."
He blushed, and glanced around, then went on, "It's likely they or some of their emissaries landed on Berk once, generations ago, though no record exists of them. They traveled for a generation and another, learning what new peculiarities they could from different tribes and islands, recording them in their tomes and books, passing them on to their children — and even grandchildren, as they roamed. I admit now I deceived you slightly in my description of them as 'magicians.' At the time of their travels, they would have practiced little more than I, herbs and remedies, natural potions or treatments. Even now, I can tell you — the potion which gives Syl Astrid's voice was of a recipe they found after their settlement, and though it was not an especially dangerous magic given its properties, it was more than just a few natural ingredients clumped together. The details of that feat are part of a story related, but for another time. First, you must understand where this 'magic' comes from — and how it was discovered."
He paused, and glanced around at the group, unease clear in his features as the firelight flickered across them, before he went back to the paper. "A ways from here, these explorers became lost — maybe on purpose. For they had heard of a distant and unexplored island of impossible things, hosting life eternal... and a species of dragons unlike any ever seen.
"As you might imagine, they were immediately tempted — and determined. So they set sail on yet another journey north, going only by wild claims of passing travelers, merchants, and those deemed mad men. The Compendium details some of this journey — for years, they searched. Some became more convinced it was nothing more than a myth for each league they traveled, wishing to travel back south where the food was not so scarce, the waters not so treacherous, and the air not so thin, and cold. They were running low on supplies, their stops at villages becoming less and less frequent as they ventured further from civilization. Others, however, only became more determined to find it, fantasizing it beyond even the claims of the stories they were led on. The journey was set on the edge of a blade. Disagreements became disputes, disputes became fights; ships became divided into two factions among them, as their once-intellectual and civilized group pointed swords and bolts at one another, on the brink of destruction. All knew one thing — they needed to land somewhere soon and settle, to save themselves not only from starvation or death at sea, but from one another. And then, they found it.
"The Compendium describes it as a place beyond paradise. So green it could be seen from hundreds of leagues away as a bright, sparkling dot on the dark blue, lush and beautiful, resting atop the frigid ocean as if floating there like driftwood. So the people saw. And as their ships approached, they saw something else, as well: creatures, darkly outlined against the sun, flying out, around and above the island like birds to a nest. The last line of this journey identifies them as dragons, but nothing more. How I wish we had known just a day's entry more — but alas, such is the way of legends and old stories. From there, this book jumps, to years, perhaps centuries later, long after the discovery of the island — and long after its settlement. A great settlement had been built there, seeming probably impossible to the outside eye, the methods of its construction a closely guarded secret of the builders.
"Yet indeed, all signs pointed to some magical power at work in the city — for travelers to and from it claimed it could not have existed, otherwise. And oh, there were travelers — as the settlement turned into the village, and the village into the city, it drew in more and more from the archipelago, and beyond. Tales of a city straight out of myth, far in the north, that seemingly materialized overnight, brought its share of curious travelers. Soon a port was opened there, though ten boats arrived for every one that left. For the city seemed never to have need of food, water, supplies, or truly any resources at all, and yet, it only grew. Those who came rarely left — out of their own choice — and the few who did were sworn to secrecy. For all the incredible rumors of this island, no answer was ever given to how any of this was possible. And then, there is this book… The Compendium.
"Fragments of truth lie between its pages, which have left me more questions than answers. This is a book of spells, of the inner-workings of magic and its nature. But all of this still leaves the question: where did it come from? They found something on that island when they landed, perhaps shortly after — perhaps before. I know this not from what is written in the pages, but between the lines — for why would the book be split between this journal and these magicks? And why would it stop there? Yet the book speaks of no magical source of energy from the island itself at all... No leads… Except one. The flying creatures described from a distance before landing upon the island.
"For all of my scouring through this book, it makes no reference to the race of these creatures, these dragons, at all. In fact, they are not referenced again beyond that last entry. But from what I've gathered by words of loose tongues, or description of old legends, I have reason to believe these dragons were… W-were Night Furies," Hiccup's stutter seemed to finally return as he finished, and he swallowed hard, staring wide-eyed at Gothi. "You think… They were Night Furies. Y-you think that's where they came from…?"
Gothi nodded, but the smile on her face at his excitement didn't quite reach her eyes.
YES HICCUP
I HEARD ONLY IN PASSING
DESCRIPTIONS OF THESE DRAGONS
OF THE ISLAND
DARK AS THE HOUR BEFORE DAWN
SILENT KILLERS
AS CUNNING AND DANGEROUS
AS THE HUMANS WHO CAME TO LIVE THERE
THE DEPICTIONS LINED UP
WITH THE DRAGON YOU HUNTED FOR
SO MANY YEARS HICCUP
BUT I HAD NO WAY OF KNOWING
NOT UNTIL ONE FATEFUL DAY
A YOUNG BOY ON THIS VERY ISLAND
SHOT ONE DOWN
I HAVE BEEN MEANING
TO LOOK BACK AT THIS BOOK
SINCE I FIRST SAW TOOTHLESS AT YOUR
TRIAL AGAINST THE NIGHTMARE
YOU COULD SAY
ASTRID'S TRANSFORMATION
GAVE ME A REASON TO
CONSIDER IT
AT LEAST
"So…" He brought his fingers to his temples, once she had finished. "So there was magic on this island, and there were Night Furies living on it… These explorers came to this island, and… and got magic powers? There's gotta be more to it than that...."
INDEED
AND WERE IT NOT FOR
YOUR TRANSFORMATION ASTRID
I WOULD HAVE STAYED AWAY FROM THIS BOOK
AT ALL COST
HOWEVER
THERE WAS SOMETHING IN PARTICULAR
THAT CONCERNS ME
AND IS THE SOLE REASON
I MET YOU HERE TODAY
ONE OF THE LAST LINES OF THIS BOOK
I WAS NOT SURE WHAT IT MEANT AT FIRST
BUT NOW
I BELIEVE IT MAY ANSWER
SOME OF YOUR QUESTIONS
She held out the Compendium, and Hiccup took it with a frown, flipping to the last page with anything on it, about three-quarters into the book. As usual, the words and letters were fragmented, incomprehensible without Gothi's magical flame to reveal them.
"Uh, they're…" He started, looking up at the two dragons behind him helplessly. Astrid only shrugged. Toothless, however, still didn't seem to be there, his mind in another place as it seemed to be so often, now.
"Do you happen to have any of that… Fire-stuff, Gothi? For the book…?" He tried.
She shook her head, and walked over to stand next to him, peering into the book.
THIS IS NOT THE END, HICCUP
THOUGH I THOUGHT SO AS WELL
IN MY FIRST READING OF IT
"What… What do you…" He stuttered. She took the book from his hands, and began flipping through it from where it was left off, past pages and pages of blank paper. Then, suddenly, there was color.
Streaks of black ink cut across two pages, sometimes intersected by large blots or stains where it had pooled and dried between the pages, as if the wielder of the quill themselves had tried to tear through the page.
His frown only deepened. "Alright, that's… Weird. But nothing—"
Then she flipped to the next page, and handed him back the book.
Across the bottom of the right-hand side of the page were five words. They were scrawled across the full length of the page at an angle, almost illegible, but were full, unlike the fragmented letters in the rest of the book. It took a moment for him to put them together in his mind. Yet as he did, his mouth slowly ran dry.
Astrid tried to peer over his shoulder to read them, squinting. Hiccup had to stop himself from jumping, and a shiver still ran down his spine. He slowly closed the book, and set it down in front of him.
"It… It just says… They wield the power… the power we once thought was ours alone… They wield it too..."
For a moment, Hiccup and Astrid sat there in silence, the words running through their minds over and over again… before all eyes turned to the black Night Fury behind them, still staring vacantly into the fire.
The night grew very, very still, the crackling embers of the fire the only thing that still seemed alive in their circle. Then…
"I… Never meant for this to happen, Astrid," Toothless said.
She was on her feet in a heartbeat.
"Liar!" she screeched, jumping to tackle him. As she did, though, Toothless snarled, reared back on his hind legs, and thrust out his forepaws. She shrieked as they impacted her chest, and she went flying backward into a tree. Hiccup had scurried out of the way as soon as Astrid leapt, but quickly rushed to stand between them, and thrust his arms out.
"This is not the time! Odin's beard, we're never gonna get anywhere if we keep going at each other's throats like this! Can you not see that?!"
Astrid ignored him. Toothless didn't even seem to hear him.
"You're a monster," she growled, rising to her feet, still dazed from the impact. "A selfish, carnal, wild monster who—"
"I saved your LIFE!" He snarled back, claws tearing into the dirt as he took a step toward her. "That was all I wanted, all I prayed to the gods for as I was tied up in the woods that day, as I heard your screams from behind me. I never wanted you to turn into this, Astrid. I didn't know I could even be capable of something like this until… Until after…!" His stream of thoughts was frantic, and uncontrolled, accented by growls and low murmurs, as if they were spilling from some breach in his mind he only just managed to dam up at the last moment. "But… But is it that bad, Astrid, still? So horrible to be like this? So bad that you still call me a monster so easily? What does that make you, Astrid? The victim?"
Astrid froze.
"I…" She stood looking at him in shock for a moment, then cast her eyes down at the ground when he refused to tear his away. He… Had to be telling the truth. He hadn't known, hadn't meant to turn her into this, when he did. But then…
"Toothless," she began, trying to choose her words as carefully as possible. "This… This isn't me. You remember that, right? You remember who I am, who I was? I am not… A Night Fury. I'm not a dragon. I'm a human. I can't… I can't stay like this, this isn't… Right."
She winced as she finished, regretting her words. When she looked back up, though, he wasn't upset, or angry. Was not the vision of fury and rage she had expected, had braced herself for. He just looked… broken. As if her words had just sapped what remained of his fleeting hope, straight from his body.
A cool wind swept through their camp, making the flame seem to bend over, crushed under the weight of an unseen enemy, threatening to fall over or simply choke altogether. Then, Toothless frowned, scowled, and began to nod his head, slowly at first, almost imperceptible, then in longer tilts-up-and-down of his head, until Astrid was forced to look at him, waiting tensely for the inevitable snap. Then, he stopped, and looked away.
"Sickness," He sneered. "That's what you keep using for… This, isn't it? For what's happened to you?"
She began to respond, but he didn't let her.
"Sickness. Disease. I know what they mean. I know what you use them for. Things that take over your body, things that corrupt you, things that kill you, eventually, from the inside out. Is that what this form is to you, Astrid? Some sort of… Curse? Is that what I am to you?"
"Toothless, that's not—" she managed to get in. "That's different. I'm… You're not—"
"Broken?! Diseased? Don't try to pretend being this way has such control over your mind, either. You're still yourself, even as dramatic as you're trying to be."
"Then what about the fish, Toothless? And Stormfly?" She demanded, narrowing her eyes. Her anger was starting to come back, now. His accusations didn't make any sense — he didn't even seem to be arguing with her anymore. This… Wasn't Toothless, at all. Even when he had been angry before, he had never been this… Rash. "And the dreams, Toothless? How do you explain those?"
"Don't talk to me about dreams!" He growled. "Everyone has them. They're just that — dreams. Don't blame all of your problems on a nightmare. It doesn't mean anything! You're still… You. You know who you are... Astrid."
For just a moment, the burning anger in his eyes was snuffed out, and in its place appeared a cold, desperate fear. It was the same fear she had seen for weeks in them, veiled behind a thin film of false spirit he had tried so hard to hide. Now it burst through to the surface in all its dread, overtaking his entire form as he began to growl head jerking side to side as he searched for some unseen enemy, and backed away from the light.
"Toothless…" Astrid's eyes narrowed as she tried to send the message to him… and instead found a brewing storm of terror and confusion, where his mind should have been.
"No… No!" Hiccup cried, as Toothless continued to step out of the light, clawing at his head with unleashed talons. Soon his eyes were the only part of him still visible. Lids half-closed as he growled and gnashed his teeth, they were two slitted, glowing orbs of desperation in an endless sea of night. "He's… He's having an attack! Toothless, just hold on bud, we… We have to do something—!"
Then Toothless went absolutely rigid. His claws dug into the ground, his wings snapped tightly to the back of his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut as he cowered… She took a step forward, horrified…
And they snapped open, trained straight ahead, at her. And suddenly, she wanted to run, to get as far away from that place as she possibly could. They were two black, murky orbs that stared straight into her soul, into her very being, searching, probing, fighting for a way in. And before she could respond, before she could even move, Astrid's mind was engulfed in darkness.
All consciousness, all semblance of reality seemed to escape her, as a fog of pure night invaded her mind, seeming hellbent on the destruction of whatever thoughts she tried to form, what memories she fought to recall. She fought for consciousness for what felt like an eternity. Fought for life, to bring what now seemed to be the fragmented pieces of herself back into a whole, if she could even find them.
Yet throughout what seemed to be an endless stream of this black mist, she could sense… Something. Someone. And suddenly, from the ocean of suffocating gloom, she remembered the last thing she had seen with her own eyes. A Night Fury. A dragon. Her friend.
Then, from deep within, came a voice. It was faint, and thin, as if learning to form words for the very first time even as it spoke them. Its message came in three short beats, piercing through the mist just long enough for her to hear.
"Please… Tell her… I'm sorry."
All at once, the fog disintegrated, and it was if all the pieces of herself came flying back together at once as she was suddenly brought back to reality. She was Astrid… She lived on Berk… With her… Friends… She was a… was...
Then her legs collapsed, and everything went black.
So…
To start off… Sorry.
The past — what, 13? 14? — months, were a bit rough. Around the time I posted the last chapter, my schedule kind of kicked into overdrive, and my life got a little hectic. For the next few months, I was either too busy or too tired to even give thought to writing this story at all, up until maybe about May or June.
However, I've always been 'busy,' and yet when I started writing this story, and in roughly the first year that followed, I always found time to work on it. The truth is, I think, that it was because I wanted to work on it.
So for those of you who have been following this story since the beginning, or early on — thank you so very much, by the way — have probably noticed that my tendency to miss my deadlines for this fic have grown more and more dramatic as I continue to write it — from just a few days late, to a few weeks, to a few months spanning in between chapters, to now, well, this.
The change started to become more exponential roughly a year ago, near the beginning of last summer. This was when I first began to truly, heavily criticize my own writing, and it's only gotten worse since. While I always recognized that, of course, this fic isn't perfect, it got to the point that I was beating myself up pretty badly over even the most minor mistakes in this, not to mention the larger ones. This occurred to the extent that it began to pool over into my real life and I began to use this as a sort of reflection of myself, obviously not a very healthy thing to do. You could actually say those few months of high-functioning busy-ness following that last chapter acted as a kind of reset switch, and helped me re-evaluate some of my own goals and opinions of both myself and my work.
I digress. What I'm trying to get around to is that, while I'm not as harsh on myself with regards to this story anymore, I am still upset over many of the very obvious and impactful mistakes I've made within this story, on both a micro- and macroscopic level. Which is largely the reason I didn't immediately get back to work on this fic as soon as my schedule opened up.
Some of you may have noticed the "Hiatus" note I put up in the synopsis, a few months back. This was originally supposed to be temporary, just until this chapter came up, but putting it on has actually given me some thought as to what I should be doing with this story in and for the future. And I think I've reached a decision.
So here's the deal; after this chapter is up, I'll be working on the next, And after that chapter is uploaded, the story will be going on a hiatus until I think I'm in a comfortable enough place with it to continue. I realize I'm being a bit selfish in doing this, especially given this extremely long hiatus with no real word to you all, and for that… I can only ask your forgiveness. Again, I'm really, really sorry, but I think this is for the best. Frankly getting back into this has been kinda fun, and this may not even end up happening.
I don't intend to just abandon this story in that time, though. Instead, I'd like to use it to work on future chapters — I do have the rest of this fic outlined — and revise past ones, as well as maybe work on a few other projects I've had kicking around in my head, that you might see on my FFN page in the future.
With that said… feedback is one of the best indicators of the fact that you want to see this continue, and I'll admit that not seeing a ton can be… A little discouraging, at times. So to all those who have reviewed, thank you so much. And to those who haven't, I'm not trying to pressure you into doing so, but please, any comments on the story at all, what you like or dislike, how it makes you feel, if it even makes you feel anything, I read and appreciate anything and everything you all have to say.
Anyway, I realize this was a bit of a life story, here (Though I did say it would be detailed!) soooo….
TL;DR
After the release of the next chapter, hopefully within a reasonable timeframe, this story will likely go on another hiatus, in which time I'll be working on some revisions of older chapters without releasing new ones.
Thank you all so much.
All the best,
~RS