Sorry to keep y'all waiting. Here's the next set. Enjoy!

A story of soap and storms

I heaved a sigh for the third time in several minutes as I soaked my feet in the water at the grove. It was late at night, but I had no desire to sleep. Having been several days since the fight at the cove and the resentment from the men whose tails I'd whopped hadn't blown over. On my first ever attempt to simply walk around the village to stretch my sore muscles I'd inadvertently run into three of the men from the fight. Chief Hiccup had luckily(for them) been nearby and split us up before another brawl ensued. Probably wouldn't have left a very good impression if I started a fight on two separate occasions.

Since then I'd been instructed to steer clear of the village during the day...which meant that I was currently dying of utter boredom. Ruffnut had already come and gone for her daily treatment which left me with absolutely nothing to do for the rest of the day. I'd already done everything I could think to do: washed my clothes, bathed, eaten, stretched my sore muscles, yada yada yada.

During down times like this, I really wished I had taken the initiative to learn a musical instrument, or even to draw or paint, but time never seemed to be on my side, save for when I was sideswiped with mind-numbing amounts of spare time...which was almost never.

In a moment of desperate inspiration, I pulled out a scry stone and drew a ritual array on the stone near the pond, hoping to use it to communicate with a friend of mine that I had helped train some time ago, but there was no answer. They knew how to communicate with me using this method, so they must simply be busy.

Frustratedly I tossed the scry stone onto the bed, pulled on my boots, and headed for the path out of the cove. "This is ridiculous. If I don't find something to do soon, I might literally die of boredom," I said out loud to myself.

Leaving the grove, I made my way into town. Using the skills I'd learned during my time as…skills I'd learned in my former life was no chore. Able to slip through town unseen using the most advanced stealth techniques the world had to offer...that and it was well after the time most people went to bed.

I efficiently made my way to the Great Hall, hoping to people watch to pass the time. This wasn't meant to be, however. Typical. When I got there, the hall was all but empty, save for a single woman on her hands and knees scrubbing the sordid floor. A little ways away was a small boy jumping from table to table and laughing with all the carefree levity only a child's heart could summon.

The boy noticed me enter the Hall and stopped laughing, immediately jumped down from the tables, and ran to, presumably, his mother. So much for being stealthy. The woman, having noticed the boy, "What's wrong, Orao?" The boy nodded in my direction and the woman turned to look at me revealing piercing green eyes along with freckles across her cheeks and nose, framed by disheveled raven-black hair.

I can't say I understand why, but for a second it seemed like she froze. There was something...indescribable in her eyes, in her expression. It was only there for a fraction of a moment before it was tucked away behind her defenses.

"Hello, is there something I can help you with?" she asked politely, reserved. She knew exactly who I was, and was guarded.

"No, nothing in particular. I was hoping to find some entertainment here, but that doesn't seem like it's gonna happen tonight."

She huffed lightly. "Nope, everyone is already gone for the night." She took the opportunity of the distraction to stretch her neck and shoulder. Something about this situation rubbed me the wrong way.

"If it's not too personal, why are you here?" I broached politely. "It is the middle of the night. Why aren't you in bed? Why isn't he in bed? It's much too late for a boy his age to be awake."

"Hey!" the boy squeaked indignantly.

"Ro, hush," his mother admonished. Locking eyes with me she spoke, "Not that it's any business of yours, but cleaning this Hall is my duty, and I must see it done."

I cocked my head. "But this hall is massive. This job is too much for any one man to take on, let alone a woman who also has to care for a child."

"Are you saying I can't do this because I'm a woman?" she bristled.

"I'm saying you shouldn't be doing this alone. Regardless of whether you're a man or a woman."

She sighed heavily, was quiet for a moment, then, "There's not much I can do about that. This is my assigned duty. I have to see it through."

"Is this a one-time assignment, or…"

She was quiet for a moment. "Or."

I nodded. She'd been placed in charge of this impossible task under impossible conditions. She couldn't clean the hall in any one given night, and the hall returns to its unkempt condition every single night. It was impossible and endless...and I couldn't stand that.

I carefully removed my coat and placed it on the table next to me. Pulling from my inner source of energy, I commanded/allowed it to flow up from my core, and outward to my hands. As I began to form the commands in my mind, my hands translated it to an ancient, mysterious language spoken through hand gestures.

I command all cleaning tools in the great hall to come alive and with all due haste and efficiency, clean this Hall to near perfection.

My fingertips glowed white with energy as the command lay ready to be given. With a smirk at the woman, I snapped my fingers, sending a small wave of white energy outward into the room. Instantly every mop and scrub-brush and rag and bucket jumped to life and flew from where they were stashed to the naturally occurring spring in the kitchen.

"What are you-" The woman was cut off as a bar of soap flew past her head and dropped into a bucket.

"Just wait. You'll see," I said with a smirk on my lips.

The army of cleaning supplies marched from the kitchen and began attacking the room with an efficiency that would make any military leader swoon with pride.

I walked over to stand next to the woman, who was dumbstruck at what she was seeing. The boy next to her was making no attempts to hide his amazement, face alight with joy at what was surely the stuff of dreams happening before his very eyes.

"How-" the woman started.

"Magic."

"But why-"

"What's the point in having all these cool things I can do if I can't help someone who truly needs it every once in a while."

"Wait, stop." She grabbed my arm.

"Why?" I asked, turning to her.

"Because this is dishonorable. I have to do this without help."

"I don't get-"

"Please stop it." She firmly grabs my arms. "You have to stop, please stop it now!"

"Okay, okay." I turn towards the center of the army of cleaning supplies and begin dictating my next hex using the hand gestures. After dictating what I want to happen, I snap my fingers again and the army immediately returns to their original stations.

The great hall was deathly quiet in the absence of the army of magic cleaning supplies' work. The woman was quiet for a spell, breathing harder as the moment stretched on.

"Are you-" She slapped me hard across the face before my question could be formed.

"You get out of here, and don't come back," she growled. I reached a hand up to my stinging cheek.

"But-"

"GET OUT!" She roared with a mighty passion that would make any barbarian blush.

Not wanting to cause more trouble, and honestly feeling a touch indignant and shamed, I briskly grabbed my coat and marched toward the door.

I paused halfway through the threshold. I wouldn't do well for me to have another blemish on my already tarnished record with these people. Yes, I was only trying to help, and yes I got slapped and yelled at for my troubles, but then again, I don't know hardly anything about these people and their lifestyles. Perhaps there's a stricture that I had overstepped.

Turning to lock eyes with the fuming woman, I simply said, "I'm sorry," and left.

I made my way back to the cove, making no effort to conceal myself. I was fuming inside. The truth of the matter is that for a split second I had forgotten that I'm not a part of these people. I may have been born here, but I wasn't raised in their ideals; I'm separate from them. Yes, they've been kind and cordial, but I can't allow myself to forget again that I'm here for a reason. I need to find the missing link and take it back with me to the Syndicate.

There's a Sacrament that I found, called the Destiny Destroyer. It's quite possibly the single strongest destruction spell ever created; with enough power to wipe an entire city off the face of the earth. And I'm going to use it to destroy the Syndicate of Sorcery...to take revenge on the man that stole my life from me...twice.

All I have to do know is find the core for the Sacrament: the enchanted mystery item here on the island that connects me to my past. Yeah...apparently I was born here in a past life. I know that I could just tell them that I'm from here and have them figure out who I was...but that route lies the risk of becoming attached to this place, to these people...and I can't have any obstacles that might prevent me from getting my revenge.

I ducked under the last camouflaging branch to the entrance of the cove, and emerged into the moonlight reflecting off the pool of water. One would think that in such a serene vista that one would be able to center themselves and find peace, even if temporarily, but I was an erratic firestorm of emotions inside. Fear threatened to pull my heart from my chest; rage threatened to spill my own blood through my skin; disgust threatened to rip my stomach out for some relief...and hatred...the hatred threatened to light a beacon in me to draw all the darkness in the world to my very soul.

Some men are praised for never having, or at least showing, emotion; some men are praised for their eloquence of word and the emotions they convey to an audience while on stage. I never understood either of them. How does one simply not have emotions? How do you turn off that which you have no control over? Or rather how do you force yourself to feel something other than what is?

I haphazardly stumbled over to the bed, and dropped in, pulling my blanket over my head...wishing someone could take this from me, relieve my anguish; extinguish the firestorm within me.

As the constellations continued their celestial dance, I anguished as quietly as I was able.

xXx

It was just before dawn when I sensed it; so strong that it woke me from my sleep. I sat up in an instant and listened: the air, something was wrong with the air. All my instincts were lighting up like alarms at a palace; so strong that I rose to my feet and with a purpose, gathered my belongings, dressed, and left for the village.

The danger I sensed grew with every passing moment; to the point that I broke out into a sprint. This is bad, this is very bad! I crested a hill and came to a stop just outside the village, where surprisingly, Chief Hiccup was trying to calm down his dragon: a nasty looking night fury.

"Toothless, what's gotten into you? Calm down! You're gonna wake the whole village." Toothless refused to be calmed, because-

"He can sense it," I said to Hiccup, looking to the sky for confirmation of what my instincts told me; of what the night fury's instincts told him.

"Hades? What's wrong? Sense what?" Chief Hiccup asked, turning to me, the night fury nudging his back with urgency.

I didn't respond for a moment, I had to be sure...and there it was: A single lightning flash off in the distance lit up the clouds for a split second, but it confirmed what both the dragon and I knew:

"A storm is coming, a big one."

"How do you know? I can't see anything."

Another lightning flash, bigger than the last one. "Trust me, it's there." I moved closer to the chief without getting within claw range of the night fury, keeping an eye on the horizon. "You need to get the village to shelter immediately."

"We don't have a shelter large enough to hold everyone and their dragons."

I turned to the chief. "There should be room in the Great Hall for all the people, but if you bring any dragons in there I can't protect anyone with my sorcery. And with a storm this bad, you may just want some sorcery...outlawed or not."

Chief Hiccup thought for a moment, locking eyes with the night fury. I could almost see the imaginary conversation they were having, like two halves of the same brain. After a moment, Chief Hiccup nodded. He then walked to the saddle on the night fury, pulled a lever which did...something.

I watched as the Chief hugged his dragon, whispering, "Be careful. Be safe." The night fury then released a sonorous roar as it took to the skies, and as a practiced military what looked like all dragons instantly took to the skies with him.

As the night fury led the dragons to the east, Chief Hiccup began shouting orders to the village. Like a bee hive whose nest was jostled, the village came to life in a flurry of activity. Everyone pitched in, no hands were idle in bringing supplies and people up to the great hall.

The storm descended on us faster than I had predicted it would. The wind whipped up in a torrent, rain fell in raucous sheets, and lightning seemed to crack the very sky open wide like a greatsword through a table.

Not all the villagers had assembled in the great hall yet, and we needed a few more minutes before we could properly ride the storm out. I stepped out from between the large hall doors and out onto the landing at the top of the steps. Raising my hands I channeled energy through them and cast: generate a sphere shield to protect us from the elements. When my gesture was complete, and my middle finger and thumb were bright with the prepared Hex, I snapped my finger.

Like a shock wave that followed a massive black powder explosion, a translucent barrier radiated out from me to encompass the landing and covered the whole entrance to the great hall.

As if in response to my defense, the storm seemed to hurl a decently sized tree right at me. With a reverberant boom the tree impacted the barrier, bounced off, and was carried off by the wind.

Chief Hiccup wasted no time, standing next to me and shouting orders at the dozen or so men remaining outside the hall. Through the onslaught of the storm, I could see the men trying to work while being peppered with hail that had begun to fall, along with the odd larger objects: branches, wood plants, the odd sheep.

I turned to the Chief. "How much firewood do we have in there?" I asked.

"Enough to last us a fortnight. Why?"

"I've got an idea." I made my way into the hall, weaving through the crowd of men looking out the door warily, mothers trying to console their children, and barmaids trying to help by passing out towels for people to dry off with. I was trying to find where the firewood was stored when someone grabbed my arm.

"Hades," addressed the woman from last night who'd slapped my face, "what do you need?" Bitterness flared within me, but I managed to push it aside. Mission first, everything else second, I thought to myself.

"Where's the firewood stored?"

"This way." She took off, masterfully weaving through the crowd, whereas I struggled to keep up. We reached a back room that was filled floor to ceiling with firewood. I gave a whistle of admiration, then grabbed as much wood as I could carry and made my way as fast as I could back to the entrance. I kneeled down and organized them into a circle when the woman dropped another large bunch in the middle. I looked at her.

"Do you need any more?" she asked breathlessly. Slapping me one day and helping me the next? Confusing. Mission first, everything else second.

"No, this is plenty." I reached into my bag, pulling out my scry stone, and began drawing the same ritual array that I needed, twice on the ground, and separated the two piles of wood equally. Next, I drew the same array on both of my wrists. Finally, I placed one hand on each array on the ground and channeled energy through all four arrays. When they were sufficiently charged, they pulsed blue.

In response to the arrays being charged and activated, the wood in each array glowed a bright blue and morphed together, their shape changing into a round, gently conical shield with spiral channels going from the center and around to the rims. The end result was two mans-sized, round shields that rotated when the wind blew against the surface. The spinning shield would deflect debris, wind, and rain better than a static wooden wall.

"What're you doing?" asked Chief Hiccup.

"I'm going out there to give them some cover," I responded, standing to my feet.

"I'm going with you," he said without a second's hesitation. I nodded and with the shields flanking us, floating in the air and ready to defend us, we charged out into the storm.