It had been a long few months and Farran could feel the tension of the dragon hunters grow among its members as the dragon riders started to gain the upper hand in what was previously a stalemate. Being confined to land for so long had allowed him to stay out of their way as he continued to work out the best way to deal with a single rider. A luxury for his crew but an irritation for their captain who sat in the cabin of his now fixed ship and pondered where it had all gone wrong.
So much had happened so quickly, starting with the dramatic destruction of Viggo's marble operation and fortress that resulted in the sinking of an entire island! This was one of the more extreme examples but a sure sign that the tide was slowly turning. What few survivors escaped and sailed back had told everyone what had happened before Viggo or even Ryker were briefed. The details were short and were lacking due to the survivors having already sailed off only witnessing the destruction of the island and a group of riders with Catastrophic Quakens fly off, but it was enough to begin to sow doubt in everyone's minds, including the captains own.
Traps to take them out had been thwarted including one that Farran himself had come up with. Originally it had been intended to deal with Heather and Heather alone, but with the hunters beginning to lose ground Ryker had volunteered himself to take over and modify it so much so that there was barely any of the original plan left which was to lure Heather from the rest of the riders using a group of traders to trick her into helping them clear a hunter infested port where an ambush team would be lying in wait with artillery powerful enough to knock her metal dragon out of the sky. Instead the lure had been changed to hunter ships and to take down all the riders in one foul swoop. The plan was executed eventually but failed, and after Farran had no choice but to argue his case to the very upset Viggo, Ryker took the fall. A huge relief for the young hunter before being ordered to come up with another one. But after a while resources were becoming scarce and what they had went into creating tougher dragon-proof ships and something called Project Shellfire.
It also didn't help that two tribes now stood against them too, making matters worse. The Hairy Hooligan tribe and the Defenders of the wing, an island of fanatical zealots intent on the so called rightful protection and freedom of dragons. United, they posed a dangerous threat that threatened to turn what began as a handful of skirmishes and bad choices into a full blown war.
How it had come to this, Farran did not know. There was so much the leaders of the dragon hunters kept from all but their most trusted members. Was it their fault? The dragon riders? It didn't matter anymore. The only clear visual was that eventually at some point, their forces would strike again and again. The hunters were on the back foot and they would continue to be pushed back until they were no more. Farran had no clue what fate awaited them or himself. Death? Imprisonment? Banishment from the archipelago? Out of the three, if he were to choose his fate, he would choose a warriors death, clinging to the idea that Valhalla would accept him for his services within the mortal realm.
KNOCK KNOCK
The captain snapped out of his thoughts and quickly called out. "Enter."
One of his crew walked in slowly and closed the door before walking up to Farran as he sat at his desk. He appeared nervous for some reason.
"Speak." Farran ordered, not in the mood for what was likely a change to their manifest. Again.
"It's happened again sir."
The young captain blinked before realizing what the man meant before letting out an angry sigh. "What was it this time?"
"Nothing serious this time sir, just a black eye and bloody nose. He'll be fine after a day or two."
The incident that the sailor referred to was the breakout of a fight involving a member of his crew. The third one in two months. Some hunters had openly talked about desertion while the more loyal members took it upon themselves to stop them. The outcome was predictable. A small miracle to Farran was that the three crew members of his had attempted to stop deserters rather than it being the other way round. The first one ended up with a nasty slash from a sword and the second had broken two fingers. Both had eventually recovered but the incidents had been enough for Farren to persuade his leaders that a healer be present on his ship for the foreseeable future. Another mouth to feed but a valuable one all the same.
"Good. Keep him in crew quarters and notify the healer if you haven't already. I'll be down to talk to him once I'm done here."
"At once sir." The sailor nodded before leaving his superior to his own devices once more.
Even upon the full repair of Unshakable Oath, the frigate remained docked, under constant maintenance from its bored crew that like their own captain wanted to explore the unending sea. But they couldn't. Rykers orders. The skilled hunter insisted that they were to serve as a replacement when another ship was destroyed and beyond repair, but Farran believed it was revenge for informing Viggo of his failure on his trap against the riders. Either way, no-one was in a joyful mood. It left the young hunter with paperwork and no chance to trap and hunt dragons, much to his dismay.
As to apply pressure on an already dire situation, there had been rumors of an attack force ready to strike their main base of operations. How the dragon riders and the Hairy Hooligans were preparing an assault to regain the dragon eye and finish Viggo for good. Another blow to morale, even with said leader convincing them that they were more than ready to thwart whatever came their way. If it was true then it was more than likely that the turncoat spy would show her face. Maybe he could use that to his advantage to end her. Somehow.
Frustrated and in need of a break, Farran left his quill and ink alone and the parchment he was writing on back in the drawers. It could wait twenty minutes or so while he breathed in the fresh air. He left his personal quarters at once and was rewarded with the cool sensation of wind and smell of the sea. The fifteen or so sailors on the main deck kept everything shipshape to the best of their abilities and made short conversation with one another. What else could they do? As their commanding officer passed by them, they greeted him with the respect he deserved from them before continuing whatever task they had been working on. The ship rocked back gently side to side with each wave that smacked against its hull. Being stuck in his own quarters for so long the young hunter chose to set foot on dry land for a bit where the ground didn't tilt from the power of the sea and left entrusting his men to keep up their duties while he was gone.
Stepping on the wooden dock, Farran travelled inland. The groups of hunters he passed kept to themselves, talking in hushed whispers as they looked around as though worried someone would stumble upon their conversation. Farran didn't pay any attention to it and continued his walk until eventually he reached the middle of the small island. There he spotted Viggos tent, the only noticeable tent in sight. With each setback, the great leader had shut himself inside, coming up with better strategies to counter the ever-growing resistance of his enemies, his latest attempt to gain the upper hand being Project Shellfire. But alas an infiltration mission against them had seen to it that the riders knew of the project, but not what it was. Farran did not know himself and he was willing to bet that only Viggo, Ryker and those who worked on it would know the full details. Not that the hunter minded, as long as it delivered what it promised.
As he thought more upon the matter, he soon found himself before the tent and instinct kicked in, stopping him in his tracks. Part of him wished to request having his ship be sent out even if for a patrol of what territories remained. He doubted it would be approved, but even Viggo would understand that a docile crew was an ineffective one surely? Other than wasting his own time he didn't have anything to lose by at least bringing it up. The young adult sighed and prepared to knock.
"What are you doing up here?"
Farran spun round to find Ryker himself looking at him. The bald hunter did not look too happy, but then again he never did these days.
"I was hoping to discuss an important matter with Viggo, regarding my ship and crew." Viggo admitted as he properly turned round to face the man. Ryker looked right at him as though judging him, his eye narrowing slightly before eventually easing up.
"I see. Well you and your ship can wait. I need to talk to Viggo and I need to talk to him now!"
Farran merely nodded knowing it was utterly pointless to speak back and stepped aside allowing the taller man through while he waited outside in the cold. The young hunter wondered what Ryker wanted to talk to Viggo about. Despite the pair being brothers, the losses of their business had been driving a noticeable wedge between them. Their sharp tongues and confrontations were publicly known among the hunters and some were even discussing which side they'd choose should the pair part ways. A surprising number had gone with the muscular leader rather than the brains of the operation. Farran hadn't dared admit it out loud but if he had to choose a side, Viggo was the man to put money on.
A small boom sounded off, somewhere within the direction of the docks. Faint but easy to notice. Farran raised his head in its direction, thinking nothing of it. Most likely an accident caused by some fool not paying attention to his work. It wasn't the first time such a thing had happened. Another one shortly followed. Then another and another, sounding off more rapidly each time one was heard. Eventually the sound could be heard coming from everywhere. Becoming concerned, the hunter looked over the edge. The docks could barely be seen before being covered by shrubbery but what few ships he could see were clearly fighting. The distance wasn't so far away that Farran could see the shapes of hunters firing catapults and crossbows on the decks at an unknown target. Farrans heart beat faster. Had the dragon riders come to stop them once and for all? That seemed to be the case until he saw a large rock, clearly fired from a different catapult slam into the side of one of the ships which caused it to list. Berkian ships? Defenders of the wing? There was no way to tell from this angle! And more worryingly why had the alarm not been raised? If they were enemy ships then the sentries would have seen them approaching from a mile off! Listening closely he heard other noises. Weapons striking against each other, the cries of hunters and... the sounds of death.
Farran had no idea what was going on but it was bad. Very bad. He twisted round and sprinted back to the tent. Whatever the two leaders were talking about could wait. They needed to know that they were under attack. He barged into the tent.
"Viggo, Ryker! There's-"
That's as far as he got before seeing Ryker punch his own brother in the stomach and brutally kicking him into an escape hatch just behind the table! The scene happened so quickly it took Farran a second to register what had happened. He then pulled out the sword strapped to his thigh.
"What are you doing?!" He roared furiously and without thinking pointed the weapon threateningly. Ryker merely gazed back with a nasty grin.
"Oh just a change of management." He replied casually before snapping his sausage-like fingers before two other hunters barged in, disarming Farran and restraining him. The pair were strong enough to hold the younger man down with ease, no matter how much he thrashed and dragged him back outside. Ryker followed with a confident strut.
"You... you traitor!" Farran spat. "The rest of the hunters will kill you when they learn of this!"
Ryker laughed. "When they learn? You fool. The hunters stand by me, their true leader! Listen closely little hunter. You hear those sounds?" He gave Farran a second to listen to the noises of battle he had witnessed earlier. "That's my men taking care of whatever resistance remains loyal to my beloved brother."
"What? I don't... How could you do this?" The young hunter asked, his anger getting the best of him.
"How could I do what?" Ryker mocked. "Stab Viggo in the back? He's been asking for it for the longest time. And now? Now it's time to take what I'm rightfully owed!" He took a second to properly look at Farran with little interest. "Of course, there's always a nuisance or two that stands in the way of things. So!"
Ryker pulled out one of his blades. Farrans blood went cold.
"Time to prune the weeds, wouldn't you say?"
Farran redoubled his efforts to break free of his now laughing restrainers as Ryker edged closer and closer. He couldn't break free! He sensed this was the end for him. With a final act of defiance he kicked out to Ryker hoping to hurt the traitor as much as he could. Ryker easily caught the offending limb and dug the blade into his stomach.
He yelled out in pain. The most painful experience he had ever felt! The blade had only gone a few inches into his side but it felt like hot coals burning his skin away. Having it pulled out was even worse. He nearly went limp and the hunters dropped him on the ground. There were no parting words as all three of them left the bleeding captain to die.
Farran knew that the blade used upon him had been intended to make him bleed out rather than kill him instantly. Using his hands he grasped the dirt into front of him and managed to pull himself forwards towards the tent that lay a few feet away. The hunter then pulled himself up gently and turned so that he was leaning against the fabric of the tent and used his shirt in an attempt to stop the bleeding. It worked only a little, but the truth was plain and obvious. This was it. This was how he died. Not by the claw of a dragon or an enemy soldier, but betrayal. How pathetic...
He thought on the Unshakable Oath. Were they fighting or had they fled the battle? Maybe neither. Maybe his ship had been sunk and was now at the bottom of the sea. Or perhaps they had joined Ryker? It hurt not knowing. He needed to worry about himself. By will or stubbornness, Farran kept himself alive for as long as he could. He had no medical supplies to treat the injury and time was running out. At least the view was a good one, despite the sounds of battle still raging on.
Hours passed. The sounds of fighting had long died down and Farran was certain that he was maybe the only living hunter still on the island. Though not for much longer. It was getting harder to stay awake and his strength faltered more and more with each passing moment. Darkness had taken over and the starry sky shined down upon him. His mind began playing tricks on him, telling to to rest. Sleep eternal awaited were he to give in. It became much more difficult to ignore it and Farran could feel his eyes grow heavy the longer he stared out to sea.
It felt...
Felt...
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...
...
"...rran?"
...
...
"Farran, can you he..."
"...arra..."
"Far..."
"FARRAN!"
Farran jolted! His eyes shot open and he moved his body forwards! Pain rippled through him! He felt himself still against the tent. Still on the island. Not Valhalla. ... Not Valhalla... He still lived. It took longer before he felt something else. Something light pressing on his shoulder. His head had been hanging low and he realized that someone had been calling him name. A survivor! It must have been! Farran lifted his head up and felt whatever hope had lingered shot down at once as he saw the last person he had not wanted or expected to be here staring back at him. Black hair and rugged armor, green eyes and a concerned look plastered on her face. It was Heather.
Farrans eyes narrowed. Tiredness forgotten for the moment.
"You?" He groaned out with fury. A look that wasn't returned for some reason.
"Hold on, I think I have something for this. Windshear!"
Farran looked and to his horror saw not only the spy's own dragon, but every other dragon and their riders! Most surveying the land for clues and others looking at him with a mixture of emotions, including some the dying hunter had never seen before. He noticed his sword, sitting there inches from his hand.
Heather looked through her bag strapped to Windshear for what supplies she had taken with her. She hadn't expected to use any of them on a dying hunter but she did what she felt she had to. She shifted her hands through whatever she had in it but struggled to find the one thing she actually needed. She knew Fishlegs would have a word or two to say to her about organization.
Her mind shifted to the obvious battle that had taken place below. What had happened here? For months Hiccup had talked to her about a plan to regain the dragon eye back from the hands of the hunters and apprehend Viggo. And now on the night of that attack she and all the other riders found... this. Sunk ships and destruction. It made no sense to her.
Windshear growled! She heard a couple of riders yell to her, but one voice was louder than the others.
"Heather!" It growled with the hatred of a speed stinger. She turned and found Farran before him. A sword in hand, the blade digging into the ground. The hunter looked his best to be threatening. He was anything but. The sword he used acted more as a walking stick than a weapon and the hunters wheezing was heavy a labored as he exerted himself with every second he stood on his wobbling feet.
"Fight..." He coughed, nearly collapsing but held firm. "Fight me..."
Heather looked at him with disbelief. A part of her commanded for the rider to reach her weapon and grant him his demand. Like him, hatred bubbled inside her, but seeing Farran like this, on the brink made her sympathetic enough for her to stay her hand.
"No. I won't." She replied.
"Coward!" Farran snarled. "You... you can't- ... I won't..." Another cough fit struck him and he focused on inhaling air more than the enemy before him.
"Farran." Heather spoke gently hoping to get his attention. It did. "You need those injuries dealt with, now. You'll die without help."
Farran said nothing for a moment, as though thinking. After an uncomfortable silence, he spoke.
"Then strike me down... Kill me. *Cough* Kill your enemy..."
"Farran, you can't-"
"I will not die like this!" Farran snapped, finally caving all falling to his knees with a grunt of pain and nearly struck the floor. Had Heather not quickly caught him before his head hit the ground, it might have been enough to kill him. His voice lowered as his weight was supported by his foes arms "Bleeding out... betrayed... I *cough* would have my end... by the hands of my true enemy..." Farrans anger left him. He felt himself giving up.
"Heather... Fight... me ... ... Kill... me *Cough cough* Let me... enter Valhalla... ...Please..."
Farrans eyes closed at long last. He had pushed himself too far and now whatever life clung to him was in the fate of his worst enemy. He prayed with his last thoughts. Mother... Father... my brother... I will see you soon...