It was nearing dawn by the time Hiccup and Toothless made it back to Berk.

A group of warriors rowed a tugboat to an empty spot devoid of damage. Hiccup's boat knocked gently into its stern and another warrior lashed it to the dock post. She offered a hand to Hiccup, who took it and stepped onto the dock. He stood there, stiffly flexing the fingers of his right hand, while Toothless leapt out of the boat. Together, they walked up the ramp towards the village, skirting around a large scorched hole in the wooden boards.

The bridge leading to the main part of the island survived the bombardment unscathed. It offered a vantage point of the sea battle's destruction. Dozens of burned and broken ships lay foundering in the water, their tattered sails hanging still in the windless air.

They arrived at the entrance to the village. What was left of it, anyway.

Here the buildings were mostly intact, though all had been damaged by the fires somehow. They showed signs of pillaging: a door hacked off its hinges with an axe; a pile of broken plates tossed out onto the street; a wooden dragon's head broken off the eaves, a spear stabbed in its eye.

The destruction grew worse as Hiccup and Toothless walked into the village. Houses with gaping holes in their sides where they had been hit with projectiles. Buildings burnt to their foundations. Once vibrantly colored walls now covered in a layer of ash and soot. Rivulets of blackened rain water streaking the ground. They passed no other Vikings or dragons in their procession.

Finally, they walked up the ramp to the courtyard beneath the stairs leading to the Great Hall. Milling about the courtyard were several Vikings. Dragons rested on the grassy hill. The Vikings worked in groups to clear large piles of wood and rocks from where wreckage had been flung across the stone floor. A large boulder sat in a crater next to the stairs' entrance, not quite blocking the way up. People worked around it. They ignored the shapes on one side of courtyard that were laid in rows and covered in cloth.

At their arrival, people looked up and gaped, as though they were seeing ghosts. Hiccup did nothing but stare back at them. It was too much.

"Hiccup!"

The yell interrupted the spell enough that Hiccup turned to look at its source. From the steps leading to the Great Hall came Astrid, running down them. Hiccup moved to meet her as she raced across the courtyard, ignoring the debris beneath his feet.

She grabbed him in a tight hug that Hiccup gave back. He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned into Astrid's embrace.

Astrid pulled back. "You're here," she said, relieved. She rubbed Toothless's forehead when the dragon came to say hello. "No one's seen you for hours. We all thought you and Toothless were captured or…." She trailed off.

Hiccup gave her a tired grin. Astrid's blonde hair was streaked with soot and there were scratches across one side of her face. Her clothes were ripped and burnt in places, but otherwise she seemed fine. "I'm glad you're okay. Toothless's gear broke and I couldn't fix it. We were stuck out there." He waved a hand at the sea.

His grin faded. "Is…?" Who? Valka? Gobber? Snotlout, Fishlegs, the twins? Their dragons? Everyone else?

Astrid looked away. "I think you should come see."

The inside of the Great Hall was untouched by the battle. Its placement high above the village and supported by stone left it secure and stable. A place to gather the survivors of the battle.

There were so few of them left, it seemed, despite the fact that the large space was intensely crowded. The tables had been pushed aside and the available floor space taken up by triage of the wounded. Among the human warriors were several dragons, either bandaged themselves or resting with their companions. Footprints made of mud and soot covered the entranceway, mixed with streaks of red. Someone had built up the fire in the hearth, but it was dull and small, as though the Berkians were afraid it would take their last refuge as well.

Stormfly, who lay near the doors, perked her head up when she saw Astrid, Hiccup, and Toothless enter. She squawked softly and padded over to Toothless, who cooed back. The shorter dragon rubbed the side of his face on Stormfly's neck in friendly greeting. Stormfly responded in kind.

Hiccup scanned the room for the people he most wanted to see. Some people looked up at the commotion while others remained working on bandaging wounds. No Gobber, Snotlout, Fishlegs, twins, Eret, or…

His eyes landed on someone crouched by a downed Snifflehunch, bandaging its foreleg. They didn't turn immediately at Hiccup and Toothless's arrival, instead applying the wound fixing first. After a moment, though, they glanced over their shoulder at Hiccup. Upon seeing Hiccup, the person leapt to their feet and rushed over. Hiccup let out a barely contained sob of relief at the arrival of his mother. Valka still wore most of her armor from the waist down, though her chest plate was missing to reveal a shirt stained a variety of colors. Her long braid was coming undone and framed her face with a light halo of loose hair. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before mother and son reunited with a brief hug.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Valka said.

"Me too, Mom." Hiccup pulled out of the hug. He looked back and forth between Valka and Astrid, basking for a second in the fact that they, at least, were alive. "Cloudjumper?"

"He's resting outside," she said. Valka hesitated, then pointed at the wounded dragons. "I need to get back to them." Hiccup nodded. Valka gave him a second, quick hug, then jogged back to the Snifflehunch.

Turning to Astrid, Hiccup asked, "Is…are Snotlout, Fishlegs…Gobber?" With each name, the look on Astrid's face confirmed what Hiccup feared: they weren't found.

Hiccup's breath caught in his throat and he blinked tears out of his eyes. He stumbled backwards against the open door, bracing himself with one hand. Astrid and Toothless rushed to his side to balance him. Together, they led him out to the stone half-wall at the top of the stairs. Astrid sat next to him and put her arm around his shoulder while Toothless laid his head on Hiccup's lap.

"This is all my fault," Hiccup muttered. "If I hadn't…." He shook his head. "If I had just…I don't know."

Sensing Hiccup's sadness, Toothless cooed softly and nudged Hiccup's hand. Hiccup sniffed, then rubbed Toothless's head. He smiled, just a bit. "Thanks, bud. At least you're okay."

He gazed out at the ruined village, the still sea, and the low, grey clouds. The entire island seemed to be covered in a layer of muted lethargy, as though a dying goliath had curled up for its final sleep. Toothless, too, looked over the village, then turned his head to the sky. The dragon began to howl, the single, sorrowful note of a keening elegy for the remains of his home.

The other dragons followed suit. One by one, they began to add their wail to the Night Fury's lament, until the whole island echoed with the mourning of the remaining dragons of Berk.

The warriors of Berk could not ignore the call. They trickled out of the ruined woodwork and the Hall and gathered around the three Berkians at the top of the stairs. Their steps were soft and their heads were hung in grief for all they had lost.

Hiccup watched them come.

They came covered in mud and soot. With arms in slings and bandages on their faces. Limping, using makeshift crutches to walk. Wings dragging on the ground. Alone. In pairs. Supporting each other across the stonework. Humans and dragons alike, they came to Hiccup.

The dragons let their cries trail off until it was only Toothless left. Then, he, too, drew his requiem to a close.

With silence once again falling over the island, the survivors of Berk looked at Hiccup, their Chief.

Hiccup closed his eyes for a moment – just slightly longer than a blink – before gritting his teeth and standing up, Toothless right beside him.

"I…" What do you say, to a group of people who had their entire ways of life torn from them? "I'm sorry. For…for everything.

"It's my duty as Chief to protect you," Hiccup said. "And I failed."

As they looked at him, so did Hiccup look back. He saw their worn and weary faces, their battered and broken bodies. There were invisible gaps among the crowd where people should be but were not. Hiccup met the eyes of the Berkians watching him and he saw something within them. Pain. Sorrow. Loss. But there was something more. The defiance of those who had fought in a war for centuries and watched their home be destroyed over and over again shone in their faces. It was covered in soot and blood, but it was there.

"I failed," Hiccup said again. "But I'm not going to give up. We're not going to give up. They've taken our people and our dragons." He focused once more on the eyes of the Berkians in front of him. "We're going to get them back."

Something changed in the Vikings and dragons of Berk. A subtle shift of heads held higher, maybe, of standing up straighter. Someone Hiccup could not see called out, "What're we going to do now, Chief?"

"The brought the battle to us," Hiccup said. A brief smile touched his face. "We're going to give it back."