Chapter 7: Blowups Do Sort of Happen

A/N: Busy time for me! In the tourism industry, this is crunch time! I was slow to update, and I hate it. But I have to deal with it that it's THAT time of the year in the tourism industry with the consumer travel shows in the US, Canada and Iceland, and people making their summer travel plans as well as those people planning to use leftover vacation days in the winter...

Anyway, here is the next chapter!

I should explain, this one opens up a lot of Heinlein's "World of Myth" theory. You will see this pop up in my upcoming Hiccup and Toothless fanfics. Just to ease you into the insanity that is Heinlein... he liked to play with an idea that the things we consider as myths (like dragons, fairy tales... and even some things we think are popular culture) are actually real, biological and truly exist as legitimate life forms on other timelines. Just, when timelines overlap, creatures from other realities slip into our own, and we see them as magical when they are just the ordinary boring way of life in their own worlds. Makes you wonder how they view us humans when they see us from their point of view?

Per Heinlein's view, you'll see one of this fan fic's main characters use the Dreampaths to discover some of those World as Myth worlds that have influenced our current popular culture references. I've shown two of those references- one Western and one Eastern- in this chapter and would love to hear if you picked up what they are. Heinlein loved teasing people with this idea that our myths could be another planet's normal culture. I hope you like it, too. It's all in fun.

Also, I threw in some more encounters with canon HTTYD characters. Hope you can pick up on who those two characters are are.. and why I love them.

And, I admit, there is a tiny, respectful- but heartfelt - rant of mine about fanfiction views of Hiccup and Dragon!Toothless slash in there, but I disguised it a bit in some metaphors in this story. Please understand that I applaud there being freedom of expression of various HTTYD relationships in fanfic. I would not want it any other way. But I admit I am not a fan of the idea that Hiccup and Toothless are lovers, whether as humans or as human X dragon. To me they are bros all the way!

Chapter 7: Blowups Do Sort of Happen

" An invention is something that was "impossible" up to then—that's why governments grant patents." R.A. Heinlein, The Door Into Summer.

Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters. I just don't have enough Dragonchow (Tm) (C) and Viking chow (Tm) (C) to be able to claim this ownership.

"Lie flat, Setares! Stay still! We're on it!" Gatalas called, his voice strong and brave and competent. We were riding into danger, but we could take this one. We knew it.

Yes, it was in favor for the slithereen, but Gatalas and I had shifted into our battle mode with our automatic teamwork. We had taken on slithereens before, we knew what to do, and our bodies shifted into their positions.

Fear always was a part of our attacks, for fear helps keep a body alive. But years of fighting had also made us almost casual observers of our own actions.

The Knot was a usual way of dealing with these blind and dull-witted monsters. Gatalas would strike with an arrow, not to kill but to distract. It would twist away from Setares, slithering after me. And I would lead it on a chase. If I could get Ravenwing and, possibly even the sighthound to go along with this, we would all lead the slithereen to twist after us, confusing it to head in different directions. Setares would be able to roll out of the way by then, hopefully. In the meantime, we would rush under the slithereen's arched head, faster than it could strike. We'd leap over its wormlike body. It would follow, twisting and twisting and twisting. Eventually it would tie itself into a series of tight knots. When its mobility was hampered- and hopefully its breathing- then Gatalas would take my vision cue and shoot a scythion-laden arrow down one of the slithereen's orifices.

That was the plan, anyway.

What happened next, however, was not in the plan.

I galloped towards the beast. The bow string sang as it was stretched back even further to make the distracting strike. I heard Kourosh barking in fury and the echoing hooves of Ravenwing, pacing the slithereen on the other side of me.

::We're going to make a Knot:: I thought-sent to the gelding. ::Can you help with the motions?::

And then, before Ravenwing could respond, a sun burst into being in front of the slithereen's head, appearing just over Setares' upstretched hand. At least that the only mundane way I could understand it. It was a burst of light, pure and white and sharp. I dug my hooves into the ground, tossing my head as my eyes were now filled with shards of light. I had temporarily been blinded.

::Holy Hrani! What is that?:: I called, an embarrassing neigh of fear erupting from me, ::I can't see!::

"Easy! Take it easy, doostam, " Gatalas' voice was soothing my equine panic, but he must have been startled by this, too, since he had just lost his link to my eyesight, "Just keep yourself together, Horsebutt. There are senses other than sight. As long as we stick together, we will be fine."

Bless you, Rider.

::Hey, I can still see! I can see, Eyeful!:: Lux cried out with an excited thought burst and squeak. ::I'll get you out of the way! Turn to your right, away from the giant maggot-thing!:: I felt a paw tap my right side, warm dragon scales brushing my winter fur, and I turned towards my right, stumbling away from the roaring of the slithereen and the calls of my equine and canine companions.

::Ooooh, there's something smoky coming from the light that the Monster on the ground threw. The something is purple and hisses and smells sharp and dangerous:: Lux was morbidly excited, ::It's falling into the pale, horrible thing's mouth. Keep moving, Eyeful. You're almost away.::

I complied, feeling mighty helpless, but also fascinated by Lux's commentary. I couldn't help it: it was my Sarmatian fascination with all things morbid and charming.

I could hear a hideous bubbling sound, and I could now smell what Lux had: a sharp smell that put me in mind of tar or sulfur. It was hideous, and it stung my nostrils.

I snorted to clear them, and I heard Gatalas on my back, hacking, :"That's e-evil," he gasped through coughs, "But ...I hear... the slithereen! It's choking...even... more!"

I really wanted to know what was happening in this light-filled blindness. And I also felt an annoying blast of White Panic, that ancient equine urge in me to flee in terror rather than fight. Kick it all, I am a WAR MARE! Not a stupid, wimpy... selfish... girly horse!

I gritted my teeth and fought it down, realizing I needed to trust the dragon kitten and move to his directions- and hope he knew what in the Sky Lady's name he was doing.

::We're far enough away, Eyeful. We can stop. Oh, wow. What an amazing thing to see. Oh! Just! Wow! The giant worm's... melting. Cool.::

I halted, Gatalas shifting skillfully to move with me as I slowed down. And then I just stood, shaking my head until my watering eyes cleared again.

When my eyesight grudgingly returned, I saw all of us: Firemaker- horse- hound and dragon, and we were huddled together, staring at the stretched out corpse of a steaming slithereen. A purply haze floated over the limp creature, and the air still reeked of that sharp eye-burning scent.

Lux had hooked his right leg over the basket, and his tail now hung out the other end, thumping against the basket weave with excitement. Kourosh hung close to me, plumed tail down and shoulders hunched in caution. A low rumble spilled from his throat. Next to me, Ravenwing pawed one hoof and shook his head, rattling his nostrils in protest of the smell. Setares was leaning against his Turkmene's shoulder, arms wrapped around the blue- black steed's neck. His breathing was faster than any of ours, if that was possible, complete deep pants of terror.

At the moment, I realized just how young the artisan forge priest was. He may have been a priest, but he still could not have been older than late teens.

Gatalas' breathing had slowed down enough, now, for him to talk. I could not agree more with the anger that colored his voice. I could not see him from where he was on my back, but I could imagine how he looked. Even though his eyes would be flat and dead, the muscles around them worked just fine, and the expression on his face would make him seem like an angry hawk.

"What in the name of Marha was THAT?" Gatalas rasped, teeth gritted. His voice was level and calm, but that made his anger more deadly, "What did you just do, boy? No, I'll tell you what you did! You almost got all of us killed!"

"S-s-s-s-orry," Setares said, his voice a tight shadow of its usual confidence, "It was all I could think of. I s-s-shouldn't have done it. I know that."

Gatalas blew between his teeth in a growl of frustration, "I know I'll be sent to the Great Prison for getting mad at a forge priest, but so it is! That was insanity, Setares! Did you leave your common sense back at the caravan? We TOLD you to stay put! Instead, you threw that... that exploding thing at it and took out all our eyesight. You made us defenseless along with the Slithereen. You made things worse than they were! what if the monster had not been affected and we would all have been light-blind?

"You thrice bitten... oh arghhhh!" Gatalas growled, unstrung his bow, and shook it in the general direction of Setares. ," Ooooh, I do so wish I could blaspheme a priest, but you'll probably throw another of those explosive whatever-things at me."

Setares stared cooly back at Gatalas, his fiery blue eyes level. Then, to his credit he shook his head and lowered it, "You are right, Gatalas. I did wind up making things worse. I should have listened to you. I guess I keep forgetting that once I leave the forge, I am out of my element of expertise."

He gestured to the steppes, "Out here, you're the expert. You've been fighting these creatures longer than I have, after all. So, Gatalas, I am sorry. I should have trusted your judgement."

He stuck out a hand to reach up and grab Gatalas' free hand. "Accept my forgiveness?"

My Rider wrapped his own around it and shook it, "Apology accepted." I felt a bit of hesitation when he did so, as if Gatalas were surprised by the touch of the young blacksmith's hand, "Now, there is a really serious issue to discuss, Forge Priest."

Gatalas' mouth now quirked up at the corner in a smile of mischief, "I'd like to know just what that was you threw at the slithereen. I have to admit from the sounds and the smell it must have been quite spectacular."

The forge priest smiled in relief and ran a hand over Ravenwing, making sure his Partner was not hurt in any way, "Just a little thing I have been tinkering with. I've been playing with the idea of little weapons shaped like balls. They would be 'packages' we could throw that would release poisonous powders over the Red Deaths and other Gatecrashers. The problem is in the release method, causing the powder to become active." He pulled the girth of Ravenwing's saddle and neck straps tighter and pat Ravenwing. "The release of the elements in the powder and their interaction causes a bright flash, but I underestimated how bright it would be."

He swung up onto Ravenwing, "So, it's flawed technology. A useless weapon in its current state. Back to the drawing vellum, I guess."

He nudged Ravenwing into a trot, and I fell behind the black Turkmene. Kourosh paced me. Lux turned in the basket so he could watch the slithereen's corpse dwindle away.

::Hey there, kitten:: I sent to the little dragon, ::Thanks for saving our hides. I don't think we could have gotten away so easily without your help.::

Lux turned back towards me, and chirped, ::Really? I saved you? I wasn't even thinking about it, honest. I just wanted us to get out of there... fast. I didn't know you were all left blind by the light.::

I snorted and picked up the pace while Lux shifted himself around again to face forward. As he did so, he could not hide the smug sounding little purr that escaped his throat. He was pretty pleased with himself.

::What's interesting, though, Lux, is why you did not get affected by the light? You could still see while the rest of us couldn't . Except for my Rider, of course. But, then again, he was left "blind", too because of losing my sight- connection.::

Lux scratched his nose with the right front paw, ::What do you mean? Your Rider does not see? Is that why his eyes look so creepy and dead? Is that why he is uglier than the usual Monster?:

I winced, glad that Gatalas was not able to pick up on Lux's thoughts. ::Yes, Lux. My Rider is blind. He sees because he is in contact with me. So, when I lost my sight back there, he also reverted back to being blind again. You should know, though, he is amazingly able to get by in spite of it. And, in my opinion, the loss of some part of your body does not mean the rest of you is lost, too. My Rider may look odd, but he is a good man. ::

::Heh. Still a Monster, though.:: Lux licked at his front paw and used it like a comb to wipe over his long muzzle, ::So I really was the only one who could see?::

::Yes, indeedy. And that is something to consider: how is it that you have the power to see past blinding light? Maybe it's a dragon trait?::

::Dunno. We'll have to ask some dragons that, when we meet 'em.:: Lux chirped again.

The blacksmith was riding ahead at a trot, lost in his own world. He muttered to himself various formulae and jibbery-jabbery stuff made up of many words ending in "ace" and "ex" and "tate" and other senseless monikers while his Turkmene trotted forward, ears swiveling back and down to drown out the noise of chemical compositions. Seems like Ravenwing was not as into this jabbering as much as his Rider was.

I moved faster until we Turkmenes were trotting together. Our legs and hooves matched each other, beat for beat. Dead grass reached up and hissed against our bellies and legs.

"The real problem is I am a blacksmith, not an alchemist." Setares said, finally, "I should be happy and content with playing with fire. But now I seem to have entered a blowing-up -

things phase."

"Then it's a good thing we're moving out of the steppes," Gatalas said, patting me, "Those little exploding balls of yours could burn down the steppes very easily."

A look of unintended evil mischief chased across Setares' gaunt face, "I know," he said, "That was the other reason I wanted to escort you. So I could do some.. test exp... uh... errr... I meant...play some ball games."

::We'd better be very careful with this one:: I warned Gatalas, ::I think we're in for a rough ride.::

Gatalas grunted in distracted agreement. He was still holding up the hand he had used to shake Setares,' as if figuring something odd out.

The slithereen seemed to be the only farewell present we got that day. We did pick up the pace and go back to galloping, thrilling again in the wingless flight.

There was a sound of thunder that approached us from over a grassy hill, and our tribe's horse herd came over the brow, moving down to gallop with us. It was for no reason other than fun. Yes, okay, I'll admit, it is true we equines do like to run for the sheer fun of it.

The lead mare had taken the herd out further from the caravan in search of last bits of grazing, but the herd soon would head back to our caravan. They, too, would join us and be taken to the winter encampment. In the back, the liver chestnut stallion, Deathblood, moved the stragglers along and kept an eye out for danger, a vigilant stallion to the end.

It was a fun free-for-all for a few moments as Ravenwing and I suddenly had a herd of galloping Turkmenes sweep around us, calling greetings and farewells. And a feel friendly insults, too, but I give back as good as I get. There was also some juicy gossip shouted over the galloping. Guess who was pregnant? And it might be twins! And just maybe... maybe that little chestnut sabino filly had recently been talking constantly to the rest of the herd about Gatalas' sister, Darya. Could a Bonding be in the future?

More than a few horses whinnied at seeing Lux ::Hoy, little dragon! Aren't you the cute one?::

A yellow dun colt-foal, still young enough to have all his baby-fuzz, now galloped by me

::Wanna race?:: the striped foal asked Lux, who was baffled by this, since he had not been asked to link to the foal's thought speaking.

::Oh, shut up, boy!:: a little dark bay filly spat back at the dun colt as they raced next to me, :: Can't you see the dragon has one leg bound up? He couldn't race you unless he flew.::

::That's why I wanted to race him. I like to win!::

::You're an ass!:: the filly slammed against the colt who wanted to race and bit him until he squealed.

::No I'm not! I'm a horse. A Turkmene, to be precise.!::

I laughed and let myself stretch out to a full gallop, leaving the bickering colt and filly behind me. Lux let out a draconian sound that I could only define as whooping in joy.

I was pleased that, even with a harness and Rider and packs (and a baby dragon), I was still faster than all of the others. It was fun overtaking the herd, I moved up the line of galloping Turkmenes, my hooves and beats matching each mare or foal as I passed. Dust and blades of dead grass flew up through the air as we ran, all of us celebrating our joy of moving fast over the plains.

Gatalas laughed like a teenage boy taking his first gallop on his bonded Turkemene and lowered himself closer to me so we could run faster. Lux squeaked in joy, and then in wonder , as he saw more Turkmene foals now appearing among the running mares (I have to admit we are cute little fishbones as foals. Everything just goes downhill after that.)

Now I passed Ylva the She-Wolf, the shaggy, wild looking lead mare, a brutal looking olive dun who had more scars than stripes. She was a tough old lady who had never bonded - a true wild Turkmene. She knew the migration patterns well and had an uncanny way of leading the herd to the best grazing and watering areas- and taking paths that led the herd from danger. She also took no guff and was often grumped about by the younger Turkemenes. But there was not a one of us who did not admire her "horse" sense and iron will.

She'd given me more than a few discipline kicks when I had joined the herd after bonding with Gatalas. (Me and my big mouth) But she also had respect in her eyes as she dipped her head to me and neighed best wishes to me.

Then I was past the herd and outstripping them. Ravenwing was trying to keep up, but he could not match my pace at a racing gallop. This whole herd mingling shindig made me realize how lucky our Riders were that they were on bonded Turkmenes. A mundane horse galloping past a herd would get too into the moment, blend into the herd and basically become uncontrollable for his or her rider. The poor Firemaker would be on a runaway until the herd decided to stop.

Deathblood trumpeted a farewell to us as Ravenwing now managed to gallop past the herd ::Good journeys and good grazing!::

I saw the herd behind us as we moved westward, and I enjoyed their last swirl of colors. I saw flashes of light and dark brown, red and liver chestnuts, palominos, blueish black, gray, dappled gray, sand, blood and mahogany bays and, of course, many buckskins. The most common color, though, was striped dun: yellow, brown, blue and olive duns. (I was the only red dun in the herd). No matter the color, each Turkmene's coat glowed with that metallic sheen that is the mark of our breed- our inner dragon fire, we like to joke.

::So many colors,:: Lux breathed, amazed. ::And they all glow! Your sparks are showing! I didn't know your people came in so many colors, Eyeful.::

::We do. It's always a celebration to see us run together because of all our colors. :: I felt a pride in my heart, too. And love for our Riders who appreciate we come in many colors.

Some Firemakers (not calling any names, but the initials are 'Broomheads') decided that the color of an animal indicates its abilities, so certain colors were seen as the signs of a bad horse. One of those colors Broomheads hated was dun because it is the "primitive" original wild horse color. They advised encouraged breeding it out so dun would no longer exist among horses. The idea spread, so dun coloring has been appearing less and less among mundane horses. It's completely gone from the Arab and Barb horses and most Broomhead horse breeds. But our Riders feel dun is the most special color, especially yellow and brown dun because the Turkmene glow transforms these colors into pure, glowing gold. It was these colors that made us known to the Western Chinese as "The Horses of Heaven," for our coats that glowed like sun.

We moved fast, but the sun was sinking downwards as we crossed past the boundary poles with Red Death skulls, heading away from our beloved steppes. I think all of us felt a bit of sadness, but also the pull of adventure.

After that, our path took us back towards Nowheresville. Gatalas and Setares had planned on overnighting here. It was a logical stop and, from here, we still could make good time to gallop up to catch Banadaspos and the others. We were moving far faster than the Dragon troop, who were going at a conservative trot and walk military pace, compared to our trotting and cantering.

It was also a chance to take on some dried fruits and vegetables for the journey. And for both humans to have what could be their last bath for a while. Sarmatians prefer steam baths, but considering it would be too cold to bathe easily in the wilderness, our Sarmatian Firemakers were willing to put up with the hot water scrub down method in a tube located in a... gasp... one of those tomb/house things.

First Setares went, and then Gatalas. I found that odd, but Setares had seemed uncomfortable with the suggestion that the guys go to the bathhouse together. Gatalas just nodded and gestured for the boy to go first.

::Strange behavior. But then, again, he is a priest:: I told Gatalas.

My Rider nodded and pulled the tie from his blond hair, letting it unbraid on its own, ::Indeed.::

I got the impression from his voice that he was summing up some things in his mind but was not yet ready to discuss them. So I went back to munching on the sun dried timothy hay spread out for Ravenwing and I. (Ohhh, yeh. This was living!) Near the black Turkmene, Kourosh lounged on his side, eyes closed in contentment.

Later, both Sarmatians were relieved to be clean as they sat by the fire the village council had built for the impromptu dinner. They dined on a humble but apparently succulent chicken vegetable stew and bread. Gatalas filched a few slices of brown bread for me to crunch on. My Rider had already discretely filled his camp drinking cup with stew which he dusted with more of the healer's medicine. He slid the cup into the basket, and soon the basket began to make slurping sounds.

Lux was not enjoying being so close to this many Firemakers, and I could hear muted grumbling and hissing from the basket as the dragon lapped up his dinner. Luckily, once the kitten finished eating the dosed meat, he nodded off to sleep in the basket, coiled around himself, long head resting on the forked end of his tail. He positioned his healing leg so that it would be as straight as possible.

None of the villagers realized there was a dragon right under their nose as they ate with us. It was a rather boring time for Gatalas, since he did not speak Slavic, but Setares did, and the blacksmith cheerfully chatted away with the village priest- no doubt swapping priestly anecdotes and gossip. Setares had probably washed his hair, but he was presently wearing the leather head bandana, as usual. The fawn-colored sighthound, Kourosh, had already eaten his chicken meat and now was dozing by the forge priest.

Setares now paused to talk to the pretty, but sulky, adolescent girl who came up to top off the Sarmatians' beer mugs and to make sure Ravenwing and I had enough hay.

The dark haired village girl obviously did not enjoy being dragged from her friends' ball game and being pressed into service. She made it clear to us with her grumpy attitude. She talked to Setares as she moved around, and the smith translated for us.

Now that we were not wearing our dragon uniforms, the petulant girl found we Turkmenes particularly ugly and unimpressive, and she complained about that mightily.

::Sticks and stones may break my bones...:: Ravenwing snorted, ::If you looked at the beast her family uses for a plow horse, I am pretty sure she has no concept of what's beautiful or impressive.::

"She's also a bit creeped out- in a fascinated way, of course- by our constantly having our horses near us," Setares translated for the girl, "She was actually surprised that we are eating on the ground instead of sitting on the horses."

"She's not far off from the truth," Gatalas said, savoring some of the chicken stew- his last home cooked meal in a long time, "No right-thinking Sarmatian would ever consider walking when we can ride."

The girl said something in her liquid, dancing language and Setares grinned. The girl grinned back in a rather mean way, and I got the impression she was trying to be a bit difficult and taunting.

"She also finds it rather pathetic that so many of us ride mares rather than manly, proud stallions. She thinks it's because we... uh... how do I translate this... uh... we don't hang out around human women much since we're so barbaric most women would find us vulgar."

"She included, no doubt?" Gatalas smiled and moved his spoon deeper into the bowl, "Our hair's too long and, like the old song goes, 'we're wild and wooly and full of fleas, and we never take a bath above our knees'. The usual stereotype."

Setares brushed a small hand across his head bandana and quirked a brow as he listened to the slender girl's snide grumbling. "Ah... whoa! This is good. She asked if we are so close to our horses that we... ummm... how to put it delicately? We... sleep with our horses at night?" the forge priest said with sheepish reluctance, "I think she's trying to insult us, maybe? Show her girl friends she can tease the Sarmatian barbarians. We have to be nice back to her and put up with her insinuations so we don't violate the honor code of host and guest."

Gatalas, to my surprise, laughed softly, "No, good priest. I would almost wager she's secretly fascinated by the prospect of this animal mating with human thing. She's one of those types. I've met 'em before on my guide expeditions. Did you know they make up stories and songs about it, even, that they sing around the fires at night? "

Gatalas added silkily, "This could be fun."

If Gatalas had not been blind, there would have been a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He stretched, yawned and reached up to scratch my neck with a totally romantic, goony (and totally fake) look on his face. He made some stupid kissing noises at me and then said, in a very bored-sounding voice, "But, of course! Why, sometimes, on a really long trip, I've fallen asleep riding Eyeful and just let her find her way. She knows the route. I can sleep on the back of my horse as well as I can in my wagon. So, yes, I do sleep with my horse."

He pulled my face down further and started stroking me as though I were a beautiful woman ::Play along with me on this, okay, Eyeful?::

::Oh, but of course, RIderkins!::

"But, I think our young friend has something different in her kinky little mind. Just tell her what she wants to hear. Sometimes, on a really long and lonely trip... well, hey... things happen. I am lonely. My horse is lonely. Strange feelings come up and, well... there you go! I know the details of our difference in forms makes things a challenge... but true love and those unexplainable desires always find a way, right? The long and short of it is that centaurs have to come from somewhere. I'd advise the young lady, though, to stick to ponies first and work her way up. I'd be happy to give a few pointers. And I am sure my friend, Skuda, would be happy to discuss her experiences, as well- if our young teen friend here wants the women's perspective."

Setares, to his credit, translated this stoically to the now-stunned looking girl while Gatalas looked in the girl's general direction with a very innocent smile, patting my neck with over the top affection. I played along with the act and nibbled on his hair and nickered sweetly.

Then Gatalas kissed me right on the muzzle with a totally exaggerated romantic kiss. Only a sheltered village adolescent girl would realize this was stage acting.

Our tormentor happened to fit that stereotype. The teen swallowed a bit, turned pale, and then said something that clearly indicated, "Um...uh... okay, Well... bye!"

She headed off as fast as she could. Which turned out to be very fast.

She stayed away from us for the rest of the evening, as it turned out.

For the next few minutes Setares and Gatalas were laughing too hard to talk.

::Rider. You are a very naughty man... and I think that's just great, sir!::

::Why thank you, Horsebutt. Always fun to educate the youth of today on the facts of life and mythology. And they should be careful what they fantasize about.::

He sighed, "I would like to think Skuda would have found that funny. I really miss her company. Just think, a few nights ago, she and I and you and her horse were sitting in this village and- it was so nice to be together and... now... they are, gone.," He sighed, sadly, "I hope she and the others are okay. "

::But, especially, Skuda, right?:: I teased

"Oh, hush, Horsebutt. Go to sleep and dream about hunky, willing and eager stallions. And not about making centaurs, please!"

::Ugh. Do you want me to have nightmares? But I did like the hunky stallion part. I'll focus on that. Good night, Rider!::

The evening wound down. We all settled for the night. The two Firemakers refused to sleep inside a Nowheresville house, so they pitched a tent not far from the fire, and Kourosh managed to worm his way in to join them. Ravenwing and I dozed off to sleep, standing up. The basket remained close to the night-banked fire so it would stay warm for its sleeping occupant.

I have to admit these last few days have been very nice. It's like I somehow I was blown from the evil Monsters in their up and down wooden water thing and have escaped into a new world.

I've been clean and warm, and my belly has been bulging full of the most amazing food. I eat it, I savor the beautiful balance of salt and juices, the true textures and flavors. Sometimes it is red and tastes deep and rich. Tonight it is white and has a delicate, gentle taste that soothes me and makes me feel graceful and clean inside.

I know meat comes from living creatures and that my kind... dragons... we have to eat meat to survive. It is how things are. But I still give a thank you to the creatures whose meat I ate. And I want to use the life they gave me in their meat to do something good. It somehow seems right to say thank you. I have done without real food for so long. This is, truly, a gift. I promise you, red and white meat creatures... I will not waste what you gave me in your meat. Thank you for your gift of life.

The food feels so good going down my throat. And then I feel nice and sleepy, and I feel like I can go to sleep and no one will hurt me.

Best of all, I feel that when I wake up, and the light shines on me again, no one is going to hurt me. So far, they have let me be in peace. A simple gift, but one I appreciate.

And I actually discovered something: if you let the light from the disc in the sky touch you, it makes you nice and warm all over. It does not hurt you and make you bruised and bleeding. It was the Monsters who made it seem evil because they were the ones who hurt me. Actually, on its own, the sky disc even seems to make me feel healed and balanced and ... right... somehow.

True, the air these days still stinks too much of Monster, but just being able to relax without worrying about the next few moments being full of danger and pain has been so lovely.

I think it is the blue-black dragon and the reddish-yellow strange creature who are doing this. They somehow make these new Monsters have to be nice to me. Eyeful, the reddish-yellow creature is not one of my kind. She is something that is not quite monster, not quite dragon. She is strange. I want to like her, but she is so strange. And she is not my kind.

But the black dragon is my kind. I may not be of his tribe, but I know I am a dragon. According to him, I am of the Smart Ass People.

I want to know more about me. And why can I do such unusual things like seeing through the exploding light when the others around me could not? So, I am a Smart Ass dragon, but what, exactly , is a Smart Ass dragon? I want to know more about my people!

The black dragon could help me. I bet if I slept the right way, I could meet him again. Eyeful said I had with her, before, on the Dreampaths. She had explained to me that, by linking my mind with her, it helped me to be able to travel the paths because of her link with her Monster. That seemed very complicated to me, but maybe she was right.

I decided, tonight, to will myself to deeper sleep. The meat had me tired, but I wanted to get even more relaxed and tired so I could find the Dreampaths. That meant I had to put myself in a deeper trance.

I had done this before many times while being a prisoner to the Monsters. It helped me to pass the lonely days of pain. Of course, I just cried harder when I woke up and was still imprisoned, but the trances did help me in the interim.

With warmth , good food, and a day of adventure in the crisp air, sliding into a trance was as easy as slipping into a stream for a bath.

And then, suddenly, I was looking into another view, another scene, though I still felt I was lying in my basket-bed.

I was on the Dreampaths! This was easier than I thought!

This new, Dreampath view, was surrounded by trees and many flowers of lovely colors. Birds sang their twilight warning songs to each other.

I then noticed the four Monsters walking toward me. No- not walking, making little hopping motions and doing that strange ululation with their voice that sometimes sounds nice. My mean Monsters- what Eyeful calls River Rats- had made type of ululation noises when they tried to hang me. But these Monsters in front seemed to be making similar noises out of sheer happiness, and their sounds were actually quite pleasant to hear.

They were odd Firemaker/Monsters, indeed. The most normal one was a female Firemaker/Monster with long, dark head fur and white and blue body wraps. Then there was a Monster who had skin like woven grass, and he was stuffed with dead grass. And a Monster who was made of sword metal. And a really strange Monster who reminded me of the great cats I remembered seeing roaming the lands ... wait! Was that a memory of my long lost days before I became a prisoner to the cruel River Rat Monsters? Had I come from a land where these large golden cats roamed?

This Monster, anyway, was a blend of both FIremaker/Monster and big, golden cat with lots of brown head fur. I found him the most beautiful of the Monsters.

Then I noticed the ground beneath the Monsters was made of strange, evenly shaped golden stones.

The Monsters hopped towards me, their happy voices chanting. I felt really odd. I was scared of them and ,yet, I felt they would not hurt me if they saw me.

I also realized there was no canyon or black dragon in sight.

Okay... so maybe these Dreampaths are not as easy to figure out as I thought.!

I let myself sink further into the trance, and the vision disappeared.

I guess there are many Dreampaths out there, and you have to find the right one.

Then I was on another part of the Dreampaths. This one had lots of beautifully falling, soft snow and scenic mountains and slender trees that were delicate in their beauty. Even though it was winter, the trees gave off a faint smell like a sweet, red fruit I had tried once- I think both the fruit and trees were called cherry, and maybe this land was famous for them?

Rather graceful,happy-natured, golden skinned female Firemaker/Monsters with beautifully slanted eyes played in the snow. They laughed with tinkling laughter and tossed snow balls at one another. I realized they were shapeshifters. Every once in a while they would transform into beautiful, delicate red foxes. Each fox had at least two tails. These exquisite, cheerful creatures kept shifting back and forth between fox and Firemaker/Monster as they played. The air was full of their joy.

It was a beautiful image, and I enjoyed seeing the shapeshifting fox/Firemakers, but they were nowhere close to any black dragon.

Sorry, wrong Dreampath.

So I tried a third time.

And there was the black dragon, sleeping on his side in a medium sized, oddly slanted wooden shelter open to the front so he could wander out as he pleased. A nice fire crackled at the front of the shelter, and I sensed the soothing warmth it radiated back onto the sleeping dragon.

The blue-black Lightning Person snored magnificently, and he had some lumpy blankets piled up against one side of him, probably keeping him warm. I wanted to burrow in and join him, cuddling up against him like he was a big brother- hmm. Brother? It was another forgotten concept that just popped into my head. Did I have brothers? Sisters?

It was such a nice thought to cuddle with him... except he'd probably bite my head off if I tried it.

So, instead I crouched down on three legs and gave a little bark, loosely waving my tail back and forth to show I was friendly. ::scuse me? Uh... sir? Would you ever mind so much... waking...::

The dragon launched his head up from the ground with a snarl of surprise that turned into a snap of the jaws.

::...up?:: I finished, my brave bark sliding into a squeak.

Intense, glowing, gold-flecked green-grey eyes met mine.

::Who! Are! You!::

I hunched lower. ::D-d-d-d-d-on't you remember me? You helped me to open my memory stone... sir?::

::No, I have no idea who you are, kitten. Can't you see I 'm trying to sleep here?:: The black dragon's tail slashed the air behind him with angry thumps on wood and dirt.

I stood up again and made myself as brave as I could, ::I-I'm the Smart Ass Person, remember?::

The Lightning Person dragon stared at me for a moment and then started to make the grunting noises that I realized was laughter. ::Smart Ass Person? You have a pretty good sense of humor, kitten. That actually was funny. But, seriously, I do not know you.::

I remembered, now, the dragon had mentioned he probably would not remember our last meeting since this would probably not be his last dream for the night. This seemed to be the case. Certainly, I saw no glint of recognition in his eyes. I also saw that he could open both eyes, now. The bruises on his striped, dark hide also seemed to be fading.

::You did meet me, sir. I remember you had a black eye when I met you , before. And bruises. But you still have that bandage on your shoulder.:: I thought sent, ::You must heal fast.::

::Hmm. Interesting- that was how things were for me a couple of days ago. So you must have met me. And, yes, we People do heal very fast. We have to, with the kind of lives we lead. I hope that's the case for you, too. You look like you've been through some rough times.::

I dipped my head in acknowledgment, ::Yes, sir. Like I told you, then. It was Monsters who hurt me. What you call Firemakers. And I do feel better, now. I thought it was because of the things the good Monsters who now keep me have given me. But, I guess there also has been some natural dragon healing.::

I shook my head. My ear sensors were moving a bit better now, though the right one still drooped more than I would have liked. It was the one that had been nicked badly by a Monster's knife when he had pinned my ear sensors to the wall. I remember it had been to prove his knife throwing skills. He had laughed in victory as the blood from my ears ran down the wall where I had been pinned.

I forced down that memory ::Anyway, Lightning Person sir, I wanted to ask if you could tell me more about how to... well, can you train me how to be a dragon?::

More laughter.

I snarled. ::That's not funny! I was taken prisoner by Monsters when I was very young! Well.. young-er. I didn't know what I was until you told me. Can't you show me how I am supposed to act?.::

::Just act like yourself:: the Lightning Person laughed some more, but this time it was a kinder laugh, ::But you will have to work on your roaring. That squeaking is quite cute, but it's not going to bring down your enemies' hearts in mortal fear. Unless you happen to be waging a war against gnats.:: He stretched and yawned, showing an array of beautiful, ivory, jagged teeth.

I was mightily impressed and crooned in admiration. Wind blew through the trees in the dragon's world, and the air was suddenly filled with whispering, dry leaves.

::Roaring is important, see, kid? That's the basis for our firepower. When you roar, your sound and fury comes out. Breathing fire starts with a roar, but instead of our voice, we channel our fire sacks inside us to open and disgorge. So flame comes out instead of a voice. It takes a lot of practice.::, the Lightning Person grinned wider, :: In your case, I would guess, a LOT of practice.::

::Hey, now!:: I found myself standing up to my unimpressive height that towered all the way over the dragon's... toenails.

I roared my anger... and it came out in a squeak.

The Lightning Person chuckled. ::Impressive. I seem to be having a non heart attack in non fear. Oh, well. I guess I am suddenly a student teacher, now. A teenager teaching a kid. Well, what's the harm in it...?::

He seemed to be directing this last sentence to himself as he launched to his feet. He wobbled a bit and toppled back onto his side. Shaking his head, he sat up again and then stood up slowly, the lumpy blanket at his side, moving a bit away from him. ::I hate this. My scorching sensors still are out of whack. Don't know how Hiccup and I are going to fly now if I cannot even stand up right. ::

I watched, bemused, as the Lightning Person padded towards me, sleek, handsome, dangerous. He sat in front of me and watched me coolly, ::Open your mouth and take a deep breath of air.:: he sent, opening his own magnificent jaws, ::Drink it in::

I did so, my taste sensors inhaling the delicious aromas of chicken and fire smoke, and the pleasant, smoky scent of Eyeful and her black comrade.

::Now, expand those sorry little things that are your ribs. Yes, like that. Good kitten. Feel the strength in you. Let the air enrich you, give its breath to your breath. Now- push the air out and - watch me- see, notice how I am dipping my chin a bit? That opens the voice box more. And then you can roar your pride!::

A magnificent tenor roar belled out across the air, blasted from the Lightning Person's throat.

I felt a shiver of savage joy run down my spine.

Eagerly, I followed the Lightning Person and did the same.

My squeak tickled the air and died a miserable death. :

:Oh, poofcrud.:: I ducked my head in disappointment.

To my surprise, I felt a warm touch brush across my head as the dragon nuzzled me, ::Not bad for the first time, junior. It takes practice. Anything good does. And what kind of a swear word is "Poof crud? " You need a more potent cuss word- like "Scorch!" ::

I was bewildered: how would a dream enable me to feel a touch from another creature far away from me? This was weird.

::Your mind is filling it in. I'm not actually touching you.:: the dragon told me calmly.

He proceeded to show me some breathing exercises, to help me develop the weak muscles around my ribs. He noticed they had been cracked a few times. It was quite amazing that the ribs had not broken and had healed relatively well.

I followed him on the exercises, breathing in and out in various ways. He also had me practice growling and purring in a low voice to work the lower range of my voice that would translate to a roar.

::Do this several times a day, kid. It will help you to work up a good roar. And a good roar can be translated into developing a good fire blast,::

I cocked my head, taking this in, ::Does it help if I get angry? Like if I thought about about how the River Rat Monsters tortured me?::

The Lightning Person curled a lip up, ::Not really. That's the easy way out. Anger may give you strength, but it takes away your focus. You don't always roar in anger, so you should not always use anger to fuel your roars- or your fires. You'll never learn to direct to direct your flame- whatever type of flame you have- if you are affected by anger.::

He stretched his finned shoulder limbs out, then, and I gasped at the beauty of their length and their sleek lines. So many colors rippled across them: blue, black, deep grey. And they were marked with small splashes of dark gray and silver marks. I purred at the patterns.

::Checking out my freckle collection, I see?:: the Lightning Person said with a deep chuckle,:: I live with 'em. My Firemaker has even more than I do. Anyway, I just want to show you some more exercises. You have wings, but from the way you are holding them, you've never exercised them right. The muscles need to be lengthened and straightened. Then- and only then- can you move onto the art of flight.::

::Flight:: I breathed softly. The thought of being able to soar smoothly across the sky, to work with the wind and not be battered by it... it was amazing. Would I ever be able to experience that?

The LIghtning Person nodded his head, indicating I should stretch my shoulder limbs... my wings. I tried to, but they barely moved from my sides. I knew, if I were awake, there would be fiery pain running along the limbs. They had been badly strained by the wind when I had been thrown out of the RIver Rat Monster's saddle bags during the raid.

I learned a few more exercises, all focused on gently and firmly coaxing my collapsed wings to stretch out, to be what they should have been. I also discovered that, like the LIghtning Person, I had two sets of wings! One set would power me up and down and provide basic balance. The smaller set at my flanks would help me to even out my balance and adjust for wind currents.

We quit only when I started to yawn.

::You must be located further east than I:: the caustic young Lightning Person said, ::You'll probably wake soon. I still have hours more of sleep. And I intend to enjoy them with gusto.:: He touched my nose with his own, ::I suppose if we meet again, it would be a good idea for you to introduce yourself to me, as I won't remember you. Good luck with the practice.::

He moved back to the pile of blankets, accidentally hitting against them with his beautiful, long tail.

Something grunted from the blanket, and it was a very Monsterish sort of noise.

The Firemaker/Monster hiding in the blankets shook them off his head and let out an irritated grumble. Its (his?) eyes were closed, and he seemed to be well into his sleep.

I growled and hissed, making sure that Firemaker/Monster in the blankets knew I would fight to the death if it reached out of its sleep and tried to hurt me. Something about its appearance looked too much like the RIver Rat Monsters to make me at ease.

::Oh, just throw some water on it, would you?:: the Lightning Person said with a sly grin, ::Be at ease, junior. When can you get it through that wolf-shaped skull of yours that not all Firemakers are evil?::

He indicated towards the Firemaker sleeping next to him, ::He fell asleep working on harness improvements for me, so we're having a nice lil ole sleepover. He, by the way, happens to be one of the good ones. Like the ones who are healing you. And I'd rather your hissing didn't startle him onto the Dreampaths. He does not know about these Dreampaths.: So he'd be slightly terrified if he woke up now.::

I briefly wondered why the black dragon's roaring would not wake up his rider, but my quieter hissing would. Anyway, Idesisted and got a better look at the Firemaker- what of him was not covered by blankets. It meant I had to walk closer to the black dragon, but he let me do so, his eyes calm and fierce.

The Firemaker-Monster did not seem as terrifying as the usual River Rat, though his hide coloring and general appearance was much like theirs. He was much smaller and almost as bony as me, but in his case I think it was his build and not caused by starvation and abuse. He seemed to have the mildest expression I have ever seen on a Monster.

I must have thought-sent that unconsciously, for the Lightning Person crooned softly, ::No, you are right and wrong. Hiccup has not been starved, like you. But he has been often beaten up. I saw his scars and was shocked by how people of his own age group have abused and bullied him. Somehow, it makes them feel better about themselves.::

The dragon laid his head on his sleeping friend´s shoulder. To me, it seemed strangely touching that the proud, powerful predatorial black dragon would be friends with someone so gentle looking.

As if reading my thoughts, the sleeping Firemaker reached a hand/paw out and touched the black dragon's hide, muttering something like "Jæja ,félaginn minn"

I know enough of River Rat bilge to know he was saying, "Hey, buddy."

The black dragon nuzzled the darkish, unevenly choppy fur on the Firemaker/Monster's head, ::He may not look like much, but he's a very strong guy underneath it all. He's more than all right by me. He came through for me when others- others who I thought were my allies- did not. He's a true friend. I think I'll keep him. I can only hope he thinks the same of me.::

The dragon's eyes met mine, and they were full of sadness and loss, ::I have seen enough Firemakers in my journeyings, little dragon, and they are not all cruel. I hope you keep that in mind. There are some out there who are worthy of our friendship.::

::You have not been through what I've been through with them:: I thought sent, careful not to hiss or spit, ::It's hard to be open-minded when, deep down, I am afraid they are playing a trick on me to make me feel safe and warm and then kill me. Or, worse, torture me for fun.::

::I haven´t had your experiences, true: The Lightning Person said, ::But I´ve recently learned a few lessons about who, really, is a friend - and who is not. Those true friends may be people we would have ignored because they don't look like true friends. Don't blind yourself to meeting someone who is a real friend.::

We spent our last moments on the Dreampaths staring at each other, those thoughts hanging between us.

Morning. The usual oblations. Brush, hay, water. Hooves cleaned with a pick. Firemakers washing their face, cleaning their teeth, drinking hot milk and eating bread. Dog and dragon eating raw meat.

Jingling harness, stomping hooves, breath drifting on the crisp fall air.

And now we were trotting from the village, heading north and west- following the coordinates deducted from Toothless' mindstone data but interpolated onto our region.

Lux seemed very thoughtful, but also much happier than he had been yesterday. I could hear him making funny breathing noises in the travel basket and wondered what was going on in his silly little mind.

As we trotted past a small Firemaker wheel-less encampment known as a "faherm", a loud whistle made all of us turn our heads.

A tall, Slavic Firemaker man strode towards us, a pale, thin girl at his side. The girl looked vaguely familiar, and I realized she was the one Gatalas and I had rescued from the River Rats.

She was carrying a leather sack, the kind that holds soups and other liquids for a long journey.

She moved towards me. I stopped and watched, not sure if she was going to scream again.

The man spoke to us. Setares listened, and then translated, "The girl wants to apologize. She was scared from her experience. You saved her life, and she wanted to thank you. She made you something for your journey. Some nourishing soup. "

Gatalas nodded in gratitude, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

He had my eyesight from being on me, so he was able to lean down and take the still-warm soup bag.

The girl stared at his eyes, curious, and she said something.

"She had not realized you were blind," Setares said softly, "And she is amazed how you can do so much without your eyesight."

Gatalas nodded his head again and touched her hand. She smiled back, a faint smile of a girl trying to pull herself together, and said something.

"She says she hopes she will see you again."

Gatalas laughed softly and smiled, "I wish I could say the same."

We rode off again. As we did, Lux stuck his head out of the basket ::Okay to let my head come out of the basket?::

I nickered and Lux popped both his left and right leg out. I noticed he seemed to be a little less dull in color, as though the scales were covering some brighter shades beneath them. And his splinted leg moved more fluidly than it had yesterday.

Good signs.

So, I won't bore you with the rest of the day but that we moved over these forested steppes, a region of grassy, rolling steppeland with islands of trees. I could see the tracks where the Dragon Unit had moved a few days before, the ground beaten down by unshod hooves.

We reached the Dānu apara river and moved up alongside its banks. It was still too treacherous to cross here- the ferry boats would be further up the river, where it was broader and safer to cross.

I did wonder what happened to the River Rats' floating wagons. Did the villagers find them and claim them? Perhaps get the stolen goods from on board? Did they chop the floating wagons down for firewood?

Towards midday, we took a break for lunch in a river cove where there was still enough green in the grass to give good nutrition for we Turkmenes. Setares started a fire. It took only a few moments to suspend the sack of the farm girl's homemade soup over the fire and heat it for the humans. When they ate lunch, both of them praised the goodness of the soup and sang a little grace to Marha, not forgetting the touching parts about evil snakes waiting to devour us in the underworld.

There was just that quiet little discussion among the humans. Lux, however, spilled out of his basket and eagerly ate his portion of the chicken meat that the villagers had given, intended for the hound and humans. But Gatalas and Setares willingly gave most of theirs to the little dragon and the rest to the sighthound.

Kourosh lapped at his portion and licked at this nose, in his usual dignified way. He watched Lux, who was practicing picking up the meat, tossing it in the air, and swallowing it whole.

Lux then started flexing his wings out in an amusing way, and blowing his rib cage out and in like a blacksmith bellows.

Kourosh cocked his head and whined, then lowered his head on his paws as if to say, "Silly young thing."

I chuckled to myself and turned my ears to the Firemakers as they ate their good soup and bread, eyes pointed at the sky. Both sighted eyes and blind eyes.

"I know it's not a fun prospect, but the scouts have said on past missions that there are bluffs with caves further up the river. We'll have to ride hard to get there by nightfall, but we should be safe for the night there," Gatalas said, poking idly at the small fire with a stick.

"What do you mean?" Setares asked, carefully.

"Dragon attacks. We're getting closer to their origin point, and we know they've been raiding Nowheresville. As we head further north and west we'll be exposing ourselves to their attacks. We should plan each evening on going under cover. Unless you want to work on getting a good- and rather fiery- tan."

"Hmmm," Setares said, folding his arms, "But we do have the Point Wards. That should help. In case we are caught in the open, of course."

Gatalas and I knew about the Point Wards. We carried the stakes for them in my saddlepacks on all our journeys. That was our secret to how one man and a Turkmene could sleep on the steppes without taking watches through the night. They were so mundane to us by now that we rarely put much thought into them as part of our campsite setup routine. Even the caravans and dragons did not notice they were anything special, even though they were very important.

I did, honestly, though doubt Point Wards would be much use against a dragon attack.

Setares opened his arms again and faced the palms of his hands outward, "They would be of help, I think."

I snorted in surprise as Gatalas deliberately moved a hand blindly over where he estimated Setares' hand would be. The youth reached up and snatched Gatalas' wrist, imitating an invisible response to a dragon attack. The idea of how Point Wards might nullify a dragon attack.

Gatalas folded his larger hands around the wrist. Setares started to pull back and then stared with the scorching, yet daringly- steady, blue eyes at Gatalas.

"I see," Gatalas said, affably, "There is one more question on my mind. And - let me assure you in advance, I am only curious. I am not going to hurt you, because you'll probably throw one of those blast ball things at me. But I always thought the priesthood was open to both men and women. So

why are you pretending like you are a man, Setares? Or whatever your real name is, my lady?"

And there ya be.

By the way, Kourosh is based on the Saluki dog, also known as a pharaoh hound, though he is a lot shaggier overall, living in a climate that can get cold in the winters. His name comes from Iranian and means "Generous King"

And, take note, future chapters are going to have a lot of action, but they also will be quite gritty.