Author's Note: Back on track now. I intend to stay on track, too. And now, for a confrontation you've been anticipating for a while.

A maniac, a lackey, a prisoner, a dragon, and a dark masked figure. They would make quite the sight if anyone could see them, obscured by the maze-like rubble around them. Even more of a sight, if one was looking from above, were the other two dragons lurking, waiting to pounce if needed.

At the moment, none of that really mattered to Heather. She knew she was no prisoner, her hands only appearing tied together in front of her, and the ax on Maour's belt loop was hers, not his. Appearances were deceiving, and the trap was set.

After a few moments of staring at Toothless, Dagur abruptly shook himself, refocusing on Maour. "Well, we finally meet. Two of the craziest men in the archipelago!" He was enthusiastic if nothing else, in a very unsettling way. "Me, Dagur the Deranged, and you... well, you know what you are."

Heather tried not to react when she heard Dagur's voice. She kept her eyes downcast, her hands ready to break free in an instant. The one responsible for all that was wrong with her life was right in front of her, and she wanted him dead. Not yet, but very soon.

Maour laughed, a strained and cautious undertone audible in his voice. "Sorry, totally sane here." His voice was also a bit deeper, as if he was trying to disguise it. Heather wasn't sure if that was necessary, but better safe than sorry.

Dagur frowned. "Right. Rides a Night Fury; totally sane. A bit of a contradiction, don't you think?" His mood abruptly shifted. "Nevertheless. You have done me a personal favor by capturing Heather. She's a slippery one," he confided conspiratorially. "My men have been after her for quite a while now." He eyed Heather. "Yup, black hair, same eyes, same face. That's her."

Maour frowned. "You say that as if you've seen her before." Probing for information.

Dagur shrugged. "Honestly? I wasn't sure. But I know now. That's definitely her. What do I owe you for such a generous gesture?" He glanced at Toothless, who was standing in the rapidly fading sunlight, staring impassively, motionless except for his subtly twitching claws.

Maour didn't respond at first. Finally, he spoke. "Why do you want her?" This was it. "She clearly hates you."

Dagur appeared offended for a moment before laughing unsettlingly. "Who hates their own brother?"

Heather's jaw dropped. She couldn't hold her silence. "Just how crazy are you?! I am not your sister!"

Dagur took a step forward. "But you are." He held up a hand to silence her. "I've always had a few strange memories from long ago. I always attributed them to, you know, the derangedness, because I definitely never had a sister. But when I was going through old Osvald's parchments a while back, I found a letter from some random guy on another island."

He laughed scornfully, monologuing as if speaking to a personal friend. "At first, I thought the old man had been trying to set up a bride for me because the whole letter was about a girl. But there were more. From further and further back, the same dude, talking about the same girl. I found the oldest one at the bottom of the pile."

At that, Dagur's voice lost its joking tone, growing serious for a moment. "Apparently, dear old dad, already too cowardly close to twenty years ago, sent his own daughter to live with some other married couple he knew from somewhere. He thought I might do something rash." Dagur giggled disturbingly, abruptly losing the seriousness. "At the age of three, no less. Or maybe he was worried about later on. Either way."

He took a step forward, gesturing towards Heather. "I sent the armada in search of you. But I didn't want anyone to know. So they had orders to silence anyone they questioned about you. I was with them that trip. We found the island the letters had come from and started questioning villagers… and the chase began!" He grinned.

Heather was horrified, and too shocked to reply.

Dagur took her silence as an invitation to continue. "And so, my dear sister, here we are. I've always wanted a sibling!" He frowned. "Well, a sister anyway. A brother would be a bit dangerous. I'd probably have to kill any brother of mine. Line of succession, all of that." He gestured towards Savage. "I've been saying I could use another second-in-command. It would make sense to have two, after all. You could be in charge of the island, and Savage could be in charge of the armada!"

Savage clearly hadn't known any of this and was none too pleased with that. "Sir, is it the best idea to-"

Dagur cut him off. "Quiet Savage. Anyway, Heather. Join me, and help bring the Berserker tribe back to its glory days! You can't deny the Berserker blood flowing through your veins! I like the sound of 'Heather the Unhinged', do you? I mean, I don't know if you're crazy, but the names match at least. What do you say?"

"I don't know," she replied bitterly, spitting at his feet. "What's the most insulting possible way to say 'go to Helheim?'" She raised her head, meeting his fey eyes. Hopefully he would see her desire to kill him, though she doubted he was sane enough to care.

Maour's shifted on his feet. "Did you really think she'd say yes? You killed her parents. Both adoptive and original, apparently."

Dagur shrugged. "Who cares about them? Besides, I'm the only family she has left now. She'll come around eventually."

Maour shrugged in return, acting casual. He couldn't let on that he cared. "Maybe not. So, there's no way you'll just leave her alone? Let her disappear for good?" Let Dagur infer what he would from those questions.

Dagur shook his head. "Sorry. Must get lonely wherever you live. But no, not a chance." He smiled cruelly. "My dear sister will be coming home, like it or not."

Toothless had heard enough, and said to Maour, 'He isn't giving us a choice. We should strike now. He isn't going to give up.'

Maour was frozen by indecision. He couldn't just have Dagur killed, because that wasn't who he was, but he could see no way to fix this. He didn't respond.

But he didn't have to. Of all people, Savage took the decision out of his hands a moment later when he stepped forward, unsheathing his sword to brandish it. "We should just take her from h-"

He was cut off by a plasma blast at his feet, throwing him back several feet. Einfari had fired on him.

Dagur had been watching Toothless out of the corner of his eye the entire time. One didn't need to be paranoid to think that a sensible precaution. So even in the fading light, he saw that it wasn't Toothless who had fired. He darted between two tall stone fragments, out of sight.

'We need to leave, now!' Toothless growled aimlessly, trying to look in every direction. The island's structure was dense; Dagur could be anywhere around them and they wouldn't know it.

Maour snapped back to attention. "Nóttreiði, cover Einfari!" He pulled out his scythe and turned to Savage, who was scrambling to his feet. "Run."

Savage laughed, retrieving his sword. "Not a chance!" The look in his eyes implied he did not consider Maour much of a threat. He rushed Maour.

Maour jabbed his still-closed scythe at Savage like a spear.

Savage took the bait and knocked it aside with his sword. He was abruptly sliced down the arm by the now-unlocked scythe's spike when Maour pulled it back. Savage jerked away from the new threat and cursed as his arm began bleeding heavily.

Maour didn't press his advantage. He had switched over to Toothless's far more powerful hearing in an attempt to hear Dagur coming, since sight was no good here. But they couldn't hear anything. "Toothless, are Heather and Einfari up?" He didn't take his eyes off of Savage.

'Yes, just now. They're covering us from the air.' Toothless was still warily turning in circles. 'I can't smell Dagur. He must be downwind.' That didn't really help.

But Dagur wasn't content to just hide. With a blood-chilling scream, he jumped at Toothless from a low boulder, ax held high, gleaming in the last glimmer of daylight, the sun barely visible on the horizon.

Toothless jumped backward, preparing a plasma blast. Dagur landed right in front of him, burying his ax in a crack in the rocks by accident. Thinking quickly, Toothless swiped at him with his tail, knocking Dagur away from his weapon.

Dagur grinned and held out a hand, catching the sword Savage had just thrown to him. Savage promptly fled to the boat, holding his injured arm, likely intent on calling in the other Berserkers.

But in the time it had taken Savage to throw his weapon, Maour was there. He struck at Dagur with the bladed end of his scythe, forcing the Berserker back. For a moment their eyes met, and their weapons were still.

Dagur chuckled. "That thing looks fun. I'll have to try it once I pry it out of your cold, dead hands."

Maour shrugged. "Mind the sharp edges." With that, he spun the scythe in attack, forcing Dagur to focus on defending.

'Maour, I need a clear shot! Get out of the way!' Toothless had a plasma blast big enough to wipe Dagur from existence ready, but he needed Maour to move out of the way to use it. They were fighting in something that was almost a corridor formed by boulders, and Toothless had no other angle to shoot from.

Maour grunted, pushing Dagur further back. "Kinda hard to do when I can't let up pushing forward!"

Dagur frowned as he parried, and occasionally attacked back, far less often then he probably would have liked. "You sure you aren't crazy? I mean, talking to yourself is a pretty big indicator." He grinned as the tide turned, and he began to take the offensive, forcing Maour back the way they had come.

After a few moments, Maour began laughing, despite being forced back. "It's not crazy if the voices in my head aren't mine." Then he rolled to the side, having backed out into an open area, giving him space to move... and giving Toothless his clear shot.

Dagur saw his predicament at that moment. "Oh, great." In a last-ditch effort, he threw his sword at Toothless at the same moment the dragon fired.

The plasma blast hit the sword halfway between them, and the sword exploded into metal shards, several of which hit the various combatants. Toothless and Maour were mostly fine thanks to dragon scales and dragon-scale armor, though one had lodged into Toothless's front paw. It wasn't deep, but it was hot and sharp. Dagur, on the other hand, had taken one to the hip and was in no mood to continue fighting.

"Not... my best plan." He grunted in pain as he pulled the burning-hot shard of metal from his hip. Then he looked down. "Oh, cool. No bleeding." With that, he once again darted into a side-passageway, disappearing into the maze.

Toothless quickly limped over to Maour, and they took off, leaving the Berserker behind. Toothless powered through the pain in his paw and made it to the sea stack. As soon as they had landed, Maour leaped out of the saddle and rushed to inspect the paw.

"I'm going to pull it out. Ready?" Maour had grabbed two metal rods from the spare tailfin parts in the saddlebag and was using them to safely grip the hot shard.

Toothless nodded and tried not to roar in Maour's face as his brother pulled the hot metal out of his paw. He immediately started licking the wound once the metal was gone, desperate to cool it off. Because it had been so hot, there was no blood. The shard had already cauterized the wound, like with Dagur.

Speaking of which... "Where are the others?" Maour asked, echoing Toothless's unspoken question.

Heather was boiling with rage, but there was no way for them to get to Dagur at the moment. The other Berserkers were armed with crossbows, and Dagur was somewhere hidden in the rocks. "Did Maour and Toothless make it out?"

Einfari barked as she circled around, just out of crossbow range. 'Barely. Five more seconds and they would have gotten shot. One bolt through the wing or tail and we're done.'

Nóttreiði snarled angrily and fired a pointless plasma blast down at the island. The same range that prevented crossbow bolts also rendered plasma blasts worthless, especially with this terrain, covered in hiding spots as it was. Going down there now would be suicide. 'This is too dangerous. You can't attack his ship without going in, and getting shot in the process.'

Einfari growled at him. 'I know that. We need a new plan.'

They circled the island from above a few more times. Finally, Heather slumped in the saddle. "Let's just go back to the sea stack. We can't do anything here."

With that, they returned to the other two and set down on the sea stack. Heather immediately jumped down and began pacing, doing anything she could think of to calm down even slightly. She had sacrificed a perfect shot at Dagur with the understanding that they'd attack his ship, and now they couldn't do that either!

Toothless eyed Heather. She was clearly upset. 'Heather?' He was in pain, but it was nothing he couldn't handle, and it was slowly fading to a manageable level. This was more important. 'Are you okay?'

Heather spun and glared at him. "No, of course not!" She didn't seem inclined to continue. She sat on the edge of the sea stack, facing away from the island.

Einfari whined softly. 'Sorry for that. When that idiot got too close to Heather with his sword, I just reacted. I didn't think.'

Maour shook his head. "No, it was going to go bad anyway. I had no idea what to do. The worst part is, I have no idea what Dagur is going to do now, either. He knows Heather is with me, but he has no idea where I live. The letter I wrote referred to our island as a worthless stop-over, so hopefully he forgets about it."

Toothless snorted. 'And Savage saw Heather with Einfari.'

"Yeah, he probably did. But there really isn't anything Dagur can do. He knows very well he can't catch us. Hopefully, he doesn't even know where to start looking."

Toothless grinned sarcastically. 'Mission accomplished?'

Maour laughed, playfully pushing Toothless's side. "Sure, let's say that. But now we need to get on to part two. Finding out from Gobber where the Nest search is going. That will be weird. I haven't actually seen him since... well since we left."

Heather nodded. "And time for us to head home." That had always been the plan. This was the official end of her part of the journey. Emphasis on official.

Maour shook his head. "Not just yet. Heather, you should at least talk about it. Dagur sounded pretty sure, and I think Savage would have disproved him to protect his own position if he could."

Heather shrugged and walked over to Einfari. "I don't care if he's right or not, he isn't my brother." She hugged Einfari. "Thank you for protecting me. I hope to return the favor someday."

Nóttreiði shifted uneasily and said nothing.

A few hours later, Dagur's ship left the island. They watched helplessly as it sailed away. Dagur's men were forewarned, and for Maour and Toothless, there was really no reason to attack now. Dagur was just as threatening as any other Viking chief. Which is to say, without information, not very.

Heather, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to sink that ship right now. But she didn't have the heart to fight Maour and Toothless over it, just to put herself and Einfari in far more danger. The last few hours had been terrible enough without that.

When they didn't end up parting ways until the next night, lazing a whole day away on the sea stack in preparation for the next leg of their respective journeys, Heather wished she had just gone for it. Dagur was safely back on Berserker island by now. But she hid her feelings. "Good luck, you two." Maour and Toothless were preparing to fly over to Berk, which was only a few days trip from here.

'We will not need luck. And neither will you,' Toothless commented. 'Because you know exactly what path to take, along with when and how far to fly-'

'Toothless, we are just retracing our path,' Einfari complained. 'You are asking two intelligent, mostly reasonable Nótts whether they can find their way home.' Her voice was sarcastic.

'I know, I know,' Toothless muttered, lashing his tail and studiously not looking at Nóttreiði. 'I just want to be sure you will make it back. Honestly, I'd rather keep you with us…'

'But there's no point,' Einfari countered. Heather held in a smile at that, knowing as she did that Einfari was only insisting they stick to this part of the travel plan to get Maour and Toothless out of the way. The hunt wasn't over yet.

Maour nodded. "So you'll do as planned. Safe travels back for you three." He seemed to notice something in his saddlebags. "Oh, Heather, I still have your ax."

Heather really had to concentrate in order to not give herself away at that. He must be sure she was not going to try for revenge… or just sure Nóttreiði and Einfari would not allow it. He was wrong, but it was good that he thought that. He would not find out that she was not giving up until after it was done. But she was going to have to do it without her ax.

Nóttreiði growled at the sight of the ax. 'And you will continue to have it.'

Maour nodded. "I figured as much. You guys shouldn't need weapons on the way home anyway. We'll see you three in a few weeks, probably. I have no idea how long we'll need to stay around Berk. Probably until Gobber can figure out where the hunt is headed. Hopefully, he already knows." With that, he and Toothless took off, headed in Berk's general direction.

Nobody said anything until they were specks on the horizon. Heather, Nóttreiði, and Einfari were alone for the foreseeable future.

Einfari turned slowly to stare at her brother. The question was obvious. Now what? Heather knew what she and Einfari wanted to do.

Nóttreiði wasn't looking at either of them, staring out towards the island they had so recently failed to even attack Dagur on.

'I am not ignoring you, Einfari,' Nóttreiði announced, addressing his sister even as he stared. 'I also am not ignoring the obvious. We are not going home yet.'

Now it was Einfari's turn to stare at Nóttreiði in shock. 'And… you're okay with that?'

Nóttreiði rumbled smugly. 'Our goals for the moment seem to be perfectly aligned. Kill you have picked one out as "evil" and want to spare the rest is stupid, but I have no issues killing a single human in particular before moving on to the rest.'

'We both know that is not what I want,' Einfari snarled. 'I do not want to kill all of them, and you are not going to try. Dagur needs to die, and that is all. I would rather go home than set you on innocents.'

Heather would not rather go home, but she understood Einfari was making a point, not actually suggesting they'd do what Maour had wanted.

'Whatever,' Nóttreiði agreed. 'This trip, we aim to kill only one. And I am keeping you out of danger by helping. Father cannot complain, and neither can you. Not even it can complain,' he added sourly, glancing at Heather. 'Given it wants this human dead as much as I do.'

So he had been convinced of that, at least. Good. Maybe a common enemy could unite them for a time. "I, for one, am glad you want to help, Nóttreiði," she announced, entirely sincere. "A truce between us, on the condition of Dagur's death?" She was careful not to specify that the truce would end then, just what it was based on. Any cessation of hostility from Nóttreiði was precious, and she'd keep it alive as long as possible.

'Truce implies you mean us harm,' Nóttreiði growled, once again suspicious.

"No," Heather argued, "it implies you believe I will harm you, and I believe the same of you. It was just a turn of phrase." And a way to make him feel like she was allied with him, but that did not need to be said.

'I will help kill this human,' Nóttreiði specified. 'And when I find proof of your treachery, I will…' he glanced over at Einfari, 'take you home to be condemned.'

'As are our orders,' Einfari agreed tiredly, sounding only slightly enthused by any of this. 'So now we are three.'

Nóttreiði growled. 'With one purpose, and one purpose only.'

"Kill Dagur the Deranged." Heather grinned darkly. "Whatever it takes."

Maour laughed as he and Toothless soared through the night sky, only a few days away from Berk. "You know bud, I don't think I've ever been happier to go to Berk." This was going to be a quick and easy trip compared to what they had gone through with Dagur, despite the variety of dangers involved. In an earlier letter, Maour had told Gobber about the cave. When they got there, he would simply leave a note for Gobber, and they would meet there. In, get information, catch up with his old mentor, and out.

Toothless rumbled contentedly. 'Bar's not too high on that one.' He spun into another gut-wrenching dive. They hadn't really been able to cut loose for fear of leaving Einfari and Nóttreiði behind on the trip here. Toothless was determined to make up for lost time, it seemed.

They leveled out, and Maour continued the conversation, switching topics. "What do you think Nóttreiði's deal is?" This had been on his mind for a while.

Toothless hummed in concentration, flying level while he thought. 'I'm not sure. He's always angry. I feel like we're missed something, something important. Any other dragon would have calmed down by now, but he was suspiciously quiet after the fight with Dagur.'

Maour frowned. "Maybe he just didn't believe Heather's story. Having Dagur confirm it might have at least made him think?" That didn't seem like the whole reason. Nóttreiði still disliked Maour, and his past and loyalty were not in question.

Toothless was abruptly reminded of something. 'Well, being Dagur's brother and turning his offers of power down might have helped.'

"I had forgotten about that," Maour admitted. "It must really stink for Heather. You know, I think if she had been on her own and found out about that, she might actually have joined him. And promptly stabbed him in the back, but still." He was pretty sure Heather's well-founded hatred for Dagur wasn't something that would just go away, even if she had managed to put it away for the time being, which was a pleasant surprise.

Toothless purred thoughtfully. 'Einfari is good for her. She needed something to hold on to. If she ever makes any progress with Nóttreiði, she might be like you.'

"Don't jump too far ahead buddy, she's still got to get in good with Togi," Maour reminded Toothless. "And maybe Skarpur, though I don't think that will be too hard."

'Still, it is a possibility. Which leads to a question, one I don't know the answer to.'

"What is it?" He knew his brother well, but he had no idea where Toothless was going with that.

'She's a dragon-sympathising female of your age who is not Ruffnut, and does not seem to dislike you or have any prior commitments,' Toothless stated bluntly. 'I am wondering if you are at all interested. I cannot tell.'

Maour thought about it. "Bud, I had two hopes for any girl I might like. Good with dragons was one. Heather definitely meets that. The other was..." He trailed off.

Toothless understood now. 'Not a stone-cold killer, like Astrid turned out to be.'

Hiccup nodded. "In Heather's case, it would be understandable; she has more than enough reason. But I'm just not sure if I can ignore that. So, I'm not going to think about that for now. I'm waiting to see how this whole 'Dagur' situation turns out. Ask me then."

Toothless chuffed. 'Understandable on your part too. I hope she makes the right call, whatever that is.'

Maour sighed. "Speaking of Dagur... he hasn't changed at all. Except for the red beard stubble, that was new."

Toothless snorted. 'He certainly looks deranged. How did you know him again?'

Maour slumped. "He was the son of a chief, and I was too. He'd be brought over for meetings every other year to renew the treaty. He was just as insane back then. Using me as a knife-throwing target, legitimately trying to drown me, and so on. Horrible visits." He shuddered. Then he smiled. "It felt good to actually fight him and not get the yak dung kicked out of me in two seconds. I think I would have beaten him eventually if we hadn't had to leave." Of course, Dagur had been fighting at a disadvantage, on terrain that favored Maour, with a sword instead of his ax. Still, a win was a win.

Toothless snarled. 'If only he hadn't had the bright idea to throw his sword.' He shook his hurt paw, which still protested at any weight being put on it. 'We could have been rid of him then and there.'

Maour nodded. "Still, I'm glad we didn't just kill him with a plasma blast out of nowhere. That was why I froze. It was the only safe option, and I couldn't do it."

'But you can't keep freezing like that. We got lucky, again. Sooner or later, we will not get so lucky.'

"I know, I know!" Maour leaned back in aggravation. "I can't keep doing that. But I can't not try everything either."

Toothless growled discontentedly. 'Yes, you can. Here, a hypothetical situation. You have two options. One involves attacking first and killing in cold blood. That one has a high chance of succeeding. The other is some crazy plan that has a low chance. Which do you pick?'

"The crazy plan, because we can always go with the other plan if the first fails."

'As I thought. Now, consider this. You only get to try one plan, and our entire family is put in huge danger if the plan you pick fails.'

Maour was quiet for a while. "Low blow, Toothless. How can I chose between my own conscience and the safety of the people I love?"

Toothless huffed sadly. 'That's the point. Which is worth more to you?'

Maour knew the answer when the question was put like that, but it still felt wrong. Both answers felt wrong. "The people I love. But it still feels wrong."

'It does. But I know I'd stain my own conscience in a second to save Von, or Cloey, or Shadow, or those two eggs. I can live with having done something wrong if it means they're there to live alongside me. It doesn't mean I'd like it, or not regret whatever it is I had to do, but I'd do it anyway.'

Maour felt he had to object. "But there has to be some limit. If you can cross any line like that, why do the lines exist anyway? If you had to smash another dragon's egg to save Cloey's egg, would you?"

Toothless was silent for a while, apparently mulling it over, before suddenly roaring in frustration. 'Well... no! But I couldn't not do it either!'

Maour sighed in relief. "Now you get it. That's how I feel about crossing any lines. There's something there, something important. I think, once you cross some lines, there's no way to go back. If you would be willing to do that, it would make you someone... lesser than you are right now." It was hard to put into words, but that was close. He was immensely relieved to know Toothless had lines too, even if they were a bit further back.

Toothless growled in aggravation. 'So, what's the answer? We can't just refuse to pick one.'

Maour laughed. "Break the rules. Find another way, one that does both. Think outside the box, however possible. Because yes or no scenarios like that don't exist in real life. There will always be another way."

Toothless purred smugly. 'Basically, cheat.'

"There are no rules. Just what you are willing to do, and what your opponent is."

The two brothers flew on, into the night, content with the knowledge that they were on the same page.

Dagur fumed as he stormed off of the boat. He couldn't believe just how badly that had gone. He was Dagur the Deranged, fearsome chief of the Berserker tribe. Nobody turned down an offer of power from him!

Whatever. She would come around sooner or later, and sooner if the persuading could be done here, on Berserker island. That meant the chase was still on, both for her and the cowardly dragon rider. Though, the dragon rider did have style. Dark, intimidating to lesser Vikings, and intelligent. Actually, he reminded Dagur of someone. He just wasn't sure who. That quip about the weapon in the face of a real death threat felt familiar.

Whatever. Here and now, Dagur had a new enemy. Actually... "Savage. Where is my enemies list?"

Savage cringed, clutching his now bandaged arm. "Sir, we got rid of it, remember? It was easier to just keep a 'not enemies' list. You know, the one with like three names on it."

"Whatever." Dagur kicked a passing cat. "Make sure the rider isn't on there." He grimaced. "And make sure Berk still is. I have an... interest in something there now." That hadn't changed, and his plans in that direction still made him smile. It was going to be a very interesting meeting of chieftains in a month.

"Sir, we know Heather is somewhere around here now. Should we recall the armada from the South?"

Dagur considered that. "No, not yet. The rider caught her around there, and it's as good a place to search as any. And I might need them out there for another reason later." His plans were many-layered, and one of the few things no one could call crazy. Well, the pre-planned ones. Savage checked them over to make sure there weren't any glaring flaws. This one he was making up as he went along, but it felt pretty well-done.

"And… should I add him to the new enemies list?" Savage asked.

"No, idiot, not that one." That one was a bit more specific, a hit list. The rider would just die whenever a Berserker got the chance to kill him; the enemies on this list would require a little more effort.

Effort, which was why the entire island was preparing for glorious conquest. Change was on the wind, and if he couldn't have another second-in-command for the coming glory, then he'd just have to work with the one he had now.

Author's Note: I can honestly claim that the end to Heather's perspective in this chapter comes straight from the first draft, word for word, and was written long before the first Avengers: Endgame trailer came out. It's a very strange feeling, to quote something before the quote is known.

And for all the predictions of how this was going to fall out that fell flat- sorry, we're not done here yet. This story is still in some ways winding up, and a lot of the plot elements you all predicted would be resolved by this conflict have a little further to go first. Not a lot further, but a little.

In other news, I have almost finished another book, one unrelated to any of my previous works. It will not begin publishing until the end of my wifi-free Summer (I've got enough to publish as it is), but it will be done by the end of this week. Anyone who's interested, check out the description for Taking Up the Mantle in my profile; that's the one. Truth of Legend is next, FYI.