About six hours into the trip, Zyrah, and Blueheart hung out on the deck of the ship, staring at the sea on the port side. Zyrah leaned on a rail, with Blueheart's head in her lap, grazing her fingers up and down the female's head.
Being a dragon rider, Zyrah was used to trusting Blueheart's incredible sense of direction plus her memory of landmarks around the island. She had little experience with ships, save for the names of port and starboard. As she watched her birth parents work around the ship, she tried picking up on the little skills that were needed to maintain it.
Einar was surprisingly nimble on the ropes and nets, and Ragnhild also showed incredible strength in pulling said ropes around hooks and the like. It was quite something.
A little later on, Ragnhild offered to show the girls where they could sleep in the hull.
Much to Zyrah's surprise, the hull was larger than she expected, and as she looked around, taking in her surroundings, she couldn't help but notice the various cells, with holes left behind by what she could assume to be iron bars. She understood what kinds of things might've happened down here, and it sent a chill down her spine.
Ragnhild led her down a short hallway to a room, opening the door, revealing a small bedroom with a bed in the corner, with a pillow and a few blankets of wool and regular fur, and a nightstand next to it with a candle.
"Hopefully your dragon should be comfortable," Ragnhild said with a timid smile.
"I'm not used to sleeping on ships, so this'll be fine," Zyrah assured. There was some awkward silence as Ragnhild just stood there, unsure of what to say next. Unwilling to have more conversation, Zyrah made her way into the room, setting her stuff down and lighting the candle with a flint she always carried.
"We'll be fine." She assured once again. With a small nod, Ragnhild attempted a smile again, gently closing the door behind her, and leaving Zyrah and Blueheart alone in the room.
"Alright girl… uh, well, guess we gotta make do with what's given to us, eh?" With a snort, Blueheart plopped down on the floor next to the bed.
"Fair enough." Following Blueheart, Zyrah snuggled under the blankets, deciding to take a nap, letting the gentle rock of the waves lull her to sleep.
When Zyrah awoke, she had no idea how long she was asleep, or what time of day it was. She wasn't entirely sure what woke her up, but she was now wide awake, and the smell of the salty air filled her nose, as well as the mustiness of the aged wood. With a quick glance out the window, the sun had long since gone below the horizon. It was pitch black outside, and if not for the stars lighting up the sky, the horizon would've blended in with the sea.
With a yawn and a stretch, she slid out of bed, gently waking Blueheart.
"Hey, girl, uppity up." Blueheart peeled her eyes open, emitting a sound that was a mix of a growl and a yawn, begrudgingly standing.
"Lemme uh, go see what's going on, 'kay? I'll be right back." With a good-natured pat on the snout, Blueheart crooned as Zyrah opened the door and made her way down the short hallway to go find Einar and Ragnhild, hoping they hadn't gone to sleep yet.
As she reached the end, she did hear movement in the main room. She froze, suddenly spying on the figures of Einar and Ragnhild, the latter appearing to clean a wound on Einar's back, who was sitting down next to a table.
She didn't actively pay attention to what they were saying but did make note of their current attire. Einar had removed his shirt, exposing all of the scars and burns he'd received over the years in hunting and trapping dragons. That itself wasn't odd, Zyrah had plenty of scars, small scratches, and burns herself from training. But what stood out to her was an unusual scar on Einar's upper back, on his left shoulder.
It was a brand, and initially, she didn't recognize the symbol, but then she recalled Hiccup's observation when they first spoke with the couple.
"We saw the seal. On both the sail and even your belt buckle."
The seal of the Dragon Hunters.
She thought it had just been a symbol that they felt the obligation to carry even after Drago's downfall. But now she could see it ran much deeper than that.
A brand was a way to show who was the owner of the property.
The dragon hunters were Drago's property. Slaves in a way.
Her blood ran cold at the realization, and it was horrifying.
She had seen yaks have parts of their rumps shaven so their owners could brand them, so as to not mistake a herd for someone else's.
As for Ragnhild, she wore a short linen shirt that was cut just above her midriff, and at first, Zyrah didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She bore scars and burns too, and Zyrah could even faintly make out stretch marks. But it was when Ragnhild turned that revealed she, too, also bore the brand of the hunters on her exposed abdomen.
She couldn't explain it, but the sadness that ran through her was intense. Overwhelmed, she accidentally stumbled backward, falling on her butt, which caught the attention of Einar and Ragnhild.
Ragnhild quickly put on a fur-lined tunic and rushed over to Zyrah.
"You alright?" Slightly dazed, Zyrah blinked as she regained her composure, standing up.
"Yeah… I'm okay. Just a little woozy." Ragnhild led her over to the table and offered her a seat, offering her a drink.
"I know you're not exactly used to being on the sea."
"Eh, it's whatever. I prefer the skies."
"Don't be embarrassed if you get seasick," Einar said, much to Zyrah's surprise. In the short time that she'd known him, that was the first genuine, kind thing he'd said to her.
"Noted."
As Zyrah sat there, she took the silence as an opportunity to take in her surroundings, all the details within the main part of the hull. There was still evidence of their dragon hunting days, random trophies that hung on the walls; various shaped horns, claws, and teeth. There were even the remains of a wing, though she couldn't identify the species.
Her gaze then fell back on Einar and his scars. He caught her gaze, and she unflinchingly stood her ground, watching him carefully. She couldn't read his expression, as it always remained stern and intense.
"Judge all you want. You weren't involved. It shouldn't matter." Zyrah bit back whatever she intended to say, swallowing the pit in her throat.
"Einar, enough." Ragnhild snapped.
"What?" She scoffed in irritation. And so Zyrah sat there awkwardly, unsure what to say, tapping her fingertips against each other. But then a question occurred to her.
"Um… is it okay if I ask something?" Einar stared at her, also a little irritated, but he did raise an eyebrow, so that told Zyrah she was permitted to ask away.
"What kind of question?"
"Uh… I guess, about me? I dunno, ever since I could remember, on my brother's birthdays, my mother always talked about the labor experience and all that, it was her own way to reminisce, and embarrass them, heh… For so long I wondered why she never talked about mine. Obviously, I know why now, but… it still begs the question, what happened the day I was born?"
Again, another awkward pause.
"... Do you really want to know that badly?" Came Ragnhild. Zyrah nodded with pursed lips and widened eyes.
"Ragnhild, there's no need to be dramatic about it."
"And you're not the one who pushed a whole baby out." Ragnhild turned to Zyrah, pausing for a moment, and then approached the table again, resting her hands on the back of another chair, gripping it tightly, "it… it was rough for both of us. It was the dead of winter, and I'd been in pain for days. I had no idea or any way of knowing when you planned on arriving. And when I finally went into labor, there was a horrible blizzard outside, it's a miracle we all survived that winter…"
"Nevertheless, it went surprisingly smoothly. Your father helped deliver you, cut the cord and everything." To Zyrah's right, Einar gave a nod in affirmation. "That said, it was still terrifying. I am prideful in the fact you survived your first month."
"Oh…"
"I wish I could tell you more… but there's so much I can't remember, and even things that occurred after, I can't remember much…" Zyrah noticed how Ragnhild's hand shook slightly upon revealing memory loss.
"It's okay… I guess it finally satisfies what I've wanted to know for so long. Thank you, genuinely." She mustered a small gratified smile, to which Ragnhild returned.