Hello dear readers, I'm sorry this third chapter has been so long in coming, I've been looking after my very ill dog. Yes, that was St Elmo's fire I was describing in the last chapter. It's a very real phenomenon, and both beautiful and terrifying to look at. Some violence ahead.

Hiccup was tired. By the Gods, he wasn't sure he'd ever been so tired in his life. He didn't think he could even begin to comprehend how tired Toothless must be. They had been flying for so long now, longer than they had ever flown before. He wasn't sure just how long Toothless could go on for, but he had to be reaching the end of his strength soon. Not a comforting thought.
The Odinfire (as he had named it) hadn't stuck around long, and even the auroras had faded away. Beneath them, the storm had blown itself out, and the ocean seemed to go on forever. Normally, Hiccup loved this, the open sea and sky, spending time alone with his best friend but now the vast emptiness spoke of not of freedom, but of desolation and resonated with the loneliness he had thought so well buried. He hated how melancholy he got when tired. Sighing, he shook himself and sat up a little straighter, peering around with new determination. They had to find land soon, they had to.

Lookout duty was an unfortunate fact of Camicazi's life. Even though being the Heir to the Bog-Burglar Tribe brought some perks, it didn't allow her to escape taking her turn on the guard roster. She fidgeted in bored agitation. She hated guard duty when there didn't seem to be much chance of something happening. Still, pirates had been spotted recently, and she did not want them to make it to the village. Running her fingers along the hilt of her sword, she let her mind wandered back to the last time she'd encountered pirates…

She had been returning from a trip to the Meatheads on a standard 'diplomatic' thing, but she'd been able to filch Thuggory's best sword (it had been the last one the Smith had made before disappearing), which had made the trip feel almost worthwhile. She'd been gloating over it when another vessel had loomed out of the fog. She barely had the chance to shout an alert before a crossbow bolt had appeared in the neck of the first guard. The other two had died before they even finished drawing their weapons. She had been disarmed, but not before she managed to take down two of the pirates, and giving a couple of the others scars to remember her by. It had been weight of numbers in the end, and she was forced to listen to their captain give some speech about their luck turning for the better, and their information being true. She didn't really listen, except to note that they'd known who she was, and where they were likely to be sailing. That was troubling, as it meant that she had been betrayed. It was unlikely to be the meatheads, as they hadn't had the time, which left the unfortunate feeling that it had been one of her tribe, but why?

She had no time to think on it though, as she was thrown into a cell after being roughly searched. Once she was alone, she set straight to work. Their search had only found some of her tools, and there wasn't a prison on Midgard that could hold her. Within ten minutes, she was out. She had armed herself with an axe, and snuck onto the deck in the hopes of hiding herself in the bigger ships longboat, or at least finding somewhere that wasn't ankle deep in bilge water. Seeing no-one around, she had made a dash to another piece of cover, and that's when it all went wrong. She ran straight into the swinging arm of the first mate, and been sent sprawling to the floor. Her axe had skittered away out of reach and when her vision stopped swimming he was stood their leering at her.

'We were asked to capture you, and deliver you alive liddle miss, but there are oh so many ways of being alive don't you think? No-one said you had to be whole…'

While saying this he had been playing with his belt, and she had thought he meant to whip her, but catching sight of the look in his eyes, she suddenly knew he had something much worse planned. She let out an involuntary squeak of fear, but as he approached and stood over her, she had kicked up, as hard as she could. His eyes crossed, and he sank without a sound. Scrambling up, she had whirled around, coming face to face with the captain himself. He was stood there with his sword drawn and a smile playing across his lips.

'You're a little wildcat, aren't you? It's too bad for you, it really is. There was more money in bringing you in alive, but they're still willing to pay for a dead Heir.'

As he advanced she backed away, forgetting about the prone figure of the first mate behind her. As she fell, the captain raised his sword to strike and she prayed to all the gods she could think of, and then, just as the sword began its downward stroke, HE was there. A God or a Demon, she didn't know which. A figure in black and red, absolutely silent, with a sword blade clasped between his hands. The captain was too stunned to even react as his sword was released and a dagger was thrust through his eye. It had then turned to her and gestured towards her axe, as though to suggest she arm herself.

She nodded, still in shock, and did not resist as he propelled her back towards the door she had come from. She did not go through it, not at first. She turned to watch, wanting to know who the other rescuers were. She was once again shocked, as there were no others. He had just drawn his sword, which was almost as unusual as his armour, and started towards the fo'c'sle. He cut down two pirates before they even realised he was there, and another was dead before he drew his sword. The others were more cautious after seeing that. They hung back, surrounding him. This did them no good either. He span, arm outstretched towards the rear mast, before turning once again and vaulting at the nearest pirate. Still confused about the spinning thing, the pirate barely got chance to raise his club before his throat was opened and he fell with a gurgle. He had not hit the deck before the Demon had flung a knife at a pirate on the opposite side of the deck, somehow dropping him too.
Seeing five of their shipmates die in less than two minutes shocked three of them into action, and they ran towards him with a yell. The Demon ducked under the first wild slash, and appeared to sway out of the way of the second pirates swing, only to drive his right elbow into the nose of the third, driving it up and into his brain. In his left hand was a dagger that until seconds ago had been on the belt of the second pirate, to whom it was swiftly returned. He fell with his own dagger through his heart. The first pirate had by now recovered from his missed swing and turned only to see the other two dead, and the Demon still unscathed.

'What are you?! What kind of demon are you?!'

The pirate screamed at the still silent figure before falling to his knees in fear. He started babbling incoherently as the figure slowly approached him, sword held out to his side. The babbling got louder and louder the closer the demon got, before being abruptly cut off. Camicazi shuddered slightly as the head rolled towards her. As more pirates began to appear on deck, she went below. She was not afraid of battles, or death, she simply did not want to watch the slaughter. No mortal could stand against a demon, no matter what the numbers where. It was not too long before the sounds of battle disappeared, and she decided to risk coming out on deck once again. After all, it would be rude not to thank your rescuer, even if they weren't human.
As she came onto the deck, she went over to the rear mast, still wondering why the demon had pointed to it while in the middle of a fight. At the base of the mast, there was the remains of a crossbow. Thinking she now understood, she looked up, and yes, there was a dead pirate tangled in the rigging, something metal glinting amongst the mess that was his face. So, he hadn't pointed, he had thrown something, but she still had no idea what it was. A faint splashing noise reached her ears as she made her way for'ard, and looking over the side, she could just about make out some figures in the water, swimming away from the boat as hard as they could. She grinned. If they survived to tell the tale, no pirates would dare come near this part of the archipelago, not with a pirate hunting demon about. Looking back on the boat, she could see the black figure of the demon at the very front of the boat, so she clambered up to him.

'Um… I just wanted to say thank you for killing the pirates, and to ask you to please not kill me, I don't think I'd like being dead, and if you did kill me I'd only do my best to haunt you anyway, unless demons can't be haunted because I guess you're already dead….' She trailed off as she realised she was babbling. The demon turned to her, and she looked at him properly for the first time. He was tall, tall as the average Viking male but slimmer, as though made of muscle and sinew. She doubted there was an ounce of fat on him. His face was truly terrifying, with short horns reaching up on either side of his head, and …. That was when she noticed it. It wasn't a face, but a helmet. How could she have been so stupid!
Before she got any further in her thoughts, the demon reached up and took his helmet off. His hair fell down to frame his face, and a familiar voice came out of his mouth.

'Hey Cami. Did you miss me?'