Gone ~ James Newton Howard
I DO NOT OWN
A chill runs through my spine. Have I really become that cold? Am I really that different? Before I think, I spring up and sprint to my tent silently as I hear the flap of my dad's tent open. I dive in and peek out just as Gobber has left the tent.
I scoot myself to the very back of the tent and bring my knees to my chest. My candle light burned out when I flung the flap open. Dad's voice still ringing in my ear like the roar of the dragons. That's the son I want back. I try to think of how different I could be. Physically and mentally.
My body's more muscular than before and my strength has grown. I have battle wounds and scars already. I'm braver. I'm more dangerous. I'm more lethal. More merciless. I slashed the throats of multiple Outcasts. I shot multiple Outcasts. I didn't even flinch. People think I'm scary. People think I'm merciless. People think I have no conscience.
My mind flashes back to when we were back in the arena. I'm lined up next to Fishlegs as I try to balance the heavy axe on my shoulder without possibly breaking it. Gobber suddenly unleashed a Gronckle. It flew around the arena, gobbling up boulders to use for ammo. I had to get a shield for protection. Tuffnut and Ruffnet are out. Then Fighlegs. The Snotlout. I ran over to a rack of extra weapons. Cowering in fear. I had attempted to move, but another blast sent me cowering back into the corner.
That's what different! I'm not just braver, I'm deadly. If I were the old Hiccup, I would've tried to find the best place to seek refuge until the battle was over. But now, I'm charging head-on like the other Vikings. Heedless of danger. Only with one purpose, and that's to kill whoever dares come my way. I'm slashing throats, shooting arrows at hearts, like it's nothing. I really am different. Dad's words, as well with Astrid's suddenly make sense.
How I've changed. How I'm becoming something I'm not. But the way I see it, is that if I were to protect the people I love, I'd have to morph myself into something that not even Alvin would recognize. I had to change for others protection. I think back to how my wanting to protect the others had led me into this nightmare. The way I see things, I had no choice. The lives of my father, Gobber, Skullette, Astrid and especially Toothless mean more to me than my own life.
It's not my fault. But at the same time, I feel a strong dysfunctional sense of urgency to show my Dad that his son is still the same. And not matter how much war there is, nothing will break his spirit. He'll still be the same. But it's not going to be easy.
The next morning, I'm discharged with Hunter to collect some food for lunch. My Dragon Conqueror suit left folded neatly in my wicker basket. Hunter's not really big on riding dragons, but we manage to compromise to where I'll fly to scope the air, and he'll take to the ground. I manage to shoot some fowl on the ride, and when we meet Hunter at a riverbank, he's caught at least fifteen fish and a gathered an enormous amount of berries. I track back the berries and string a net up to block out any predators.
Hunter's pretty cool. After a thank you for honoring his brother and giving him a proper burial, he actually does the unexpected. He hugs me. I never imagined Hunter as much of a hugger, and he probably isn't. So I allow myself to hug back and enjoy the probably once in a lifetime moment.
It wasn't until I hug back that I realize that I'm the same height as Hunter. And since they were twins, that means I'm the same height as Lucas. I know he probably isn't over his loss, and no one's rushing him. This is probably a moment of remembrance and acceptance. I feel bad being the object of which reminds Hunter of what he doesn't have anymore, but there's a bright side to it too.
If I'm similar to Lucas in ways unknown, hopefully the thought will help Hunter get through the rest of the war with a purpose, and that's to avenge his brother. When he releases me, he ruffles my hair and we head back to the trail leading to the campsite.
From there, Dad orders everyone to pack their things so move to another campsite. He says that the Outcasts could be catching on as to where we retreat to, so to keep safe, we'll be moving to another spot. Hunter suggests the river we went to for the haul, and with no argument, everyone follows.
We about a few paces in when Mildew speaks, "Are we really going to the river? A water supply is fair game. If we go there for water, so will the Outcasts. This is a bad idea."
I turn and put my hand on the holder concealing my knife. I scowl at him and arrow my eyes, hoping somehow they can burn a hole into his brain. There's a hand on my shoulder, and I turn to find my Dad.
I take a deep breath and reply through gritted teeth, "We're not posting directly by the river Mildew, we'll be a few yards away so that we can access it when our supply runs low."
He must notice my restraint and I don't know, something on my face must show him how easily and willing I could kill him if he dares complain again. So he shuts up. But speaking of complaining, Snotlout hasn't said a word like he normally does. I scan the crowd and find him walking side-by-side with his dad, Spitelout.
I haven't really gotten to know what Snotlout's dad is like, mostly because I have no interest. The only time I've ever noticed him is when he was, in a way threatening Snotlout to win the Thawfest games. His sour attitude and intense determination made me decide not to get to close.
What else surprises me is the uncanny look they both share. Literally a chip off the old block. Not as smart or as cunning, but his cockiness is one of his best qualities since he can't learn to fight.
Suddenly wanting to think of something other than the war, I look to the sky and let my mind wander to Berk. What the people are doing. How are they progressing? Are they still okay? I feel like I've missed a lot of action on Berk since we left. But at least I left with the happy memory of the wedding.
We reach the new campsite and get to work setting up. It's around early evening when Hunter and I decide to head to the river to work on spearing fish. The rest of the Vikings join us, peckish for a little fun. Toothless is the first in the river when we arrive.
We splash and play in the river, and as I'm getting a bucket ready to get Fishlegs, soft fingers coil around my eyes and I lose my balance and drop the bucket. Skullette laughs as I tumble to the river bottom. Since were only in the shallow end, my knees stick out. As she's laughing, I spring up and scoop her in my arms.
The two of us spin and she kicks the air as I toss her deeper in the water. She breaks the surface and her hair glistens as the water ripples down her hair. I post on a rock as she sinks beneath the surface. I watch as her silhouette swims toward in a graceful motion under the glass. As she reaches the rock I'm sitting in, I can see her eyes open. She can see underwater just like me.
Her dainty hands reach up out of the water and grasp my knee. She uses them to pull herself up out of the water and he moves smoothly to my face. A sly smile on her face as she kisses my lips. My hand goes to the nape of her neck and holds her there as we kiss. By the time we're down, my lips feel puffy.
Gobber calls everyone in for lunch over on shore and we gather in with the water joining us at the campsite. We all converse and Dad and Gobber laugh. Everyone seems to be having a good time. Who knew some good old-fashioned fun was all we needed to get our spirits up.
I turn to Hunter for conversation as Skullette talks to Fishlegs. Toothless snuggles at my feet and I feed him a fresh cod while Hunter tells me some tips he and Lucas came up with when they were younger. I never knew Hunter was so cool. Mostly because we never took the time to get to know each other, but it turns out we have plenty in common and he earned my trust long before we even knew we could be friends.
Things seem fine as we're talking, when suddenly, Hunter looks over my shoulder and his grin disappears. It transforms into something I've only seen in combat. A neutral face, an unreadable mask so that no one could decipher what he's thinking. I turn in time to find an Outcast readying a crossbow.
"Scatter!" I scream. And everyone ducks and dives to the ground as the first arrow is fired.
I scramble to get to my bag as the other Vikings charge head on, hoping to capture the crossbows since they most likely forgot their weapons. I manage to find a bow and arrows and arm myself quickly. Astrid and the others gather around me, and I toss Skullette a knife since Astrid has her duel-bladed axe with her.
I ready and arrow and when I see an Outcast charging for us, I shoot him down with an arrow in the calf and he plummets into the river. The water slowly turns red. Dad and Gobber take on four as Mulch and Bucket scramble the food together. An Outcast heading for them gets an arrow in the back of his head. He falls and Mulch thanks me as he and Bucket head back with the food. Hunter and I make a silent agreement to follow them to make sure they get there safely, and to make sure they're not leading on any pursuers. We follow them a few paces behind making good progress. Any Outcasts that arrive, Hunter takes the ones on the left, I take the ones on the right.
When back at the campsite, everything and everyone seems to be unharmed. As I'm about to go back to the raid to help my Dad, Hunter advises me to stay behind. While I normally would protest, if Hunter thinks it's too dangerous for me, than I must syst. Besides, if I was still there, Dad would've wanted me back here anyway. Hunter and I sit around the abandoned fire as the warriors fight on. There's some cheering and howling by the Vikings signaling they've managed to drive off the ambush attack.
Mulch and Bucket gather the food and prop up the tents, and as I'm gathering the remaining arrows, I look to Hunter as he stares at his toes.
"You're awfully quiet." I say.
Hunter looks up to me, "Oh, yeah."
"What's up?" I ask.
"Just stuff." He simply says.
"Like . . ."
There's a moment of silence before he talks, "It just feels like every time there's something fun in life, it's nothing more than a dream. Then the sounds of arrows and screaming forces us to wake up." He says.
"Poetic. Very poetic." I joke, and then reply. "I know what you mean I'm just glad I got to leave the island with the image of the wedding in my mind."
"True." he says. There's a pause. "What was it like?" he asks.
I jerk my head up in surprise and smile. I've hadn't realize I've been dying to tell someone about the beauty and fun of the wedding. I smile broadly and grab a stool and post next to Hunter and tell him all about the weeding, the food, the dancing (being careful not to include the incident with Astrid) and it seems like the more I get into it, the more he seems happier.
Once I finish, he's smiling so broadly, it's rather creepy. "Wow." he says. "I really wish I was there."
Feeling bad, instead of saying something like, it was really fun, I choose my wording carefully and say, "It was nice to see something happy and good on Berk."
He looks up and I see those different colored eyes. Blue and Brown. While I'm not interested in men, something about Hunter's eyes seem so attractive. Seductive. Which begs me to ask the question, "Do you have anyone special back on Berk?"
Hunter stares for a split second before saying, "No." so fast and quiet, it takes me a few seconds to figure out it's what he said.
I'm about to ask why, but suddenly his face changes again, and he suddenly charges for me screaming, "Look Out!" before I even get the chance to move. He whirls me around so his body is in front of me, clenching my biceps. His body jerks forward and there's the sound of something – most likely and arrow – penetrating the skin on his back, and possibly rupturing his spine.
"Hunter!" I scream. It rips through my throat like a knife.
He sucks in a raspy breath and as he falls, I do my best to help him land on his side so the arrow doesn't get pushed more into his back. I load and arrow and the Outcast soldier receives an arrow in the chest.
I leave my weapons in the dust and thrust myself to him. My first action is removing the arrow. And while it was simple, seeing where it landed, the damage is irreparable. I turn Hunter over laying his head in my lap. "It's okay. You're okay." I say to him, feeling excruciating bad since we both know it's not true.
His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths. I try my best to stop the bleeding, but it's pointless. And I don't even bother trying to make hollow promises I can't keep.
"Hiccup," he says. His hand reaches out and I clutch it like a lifeline. As if it's me who's dying instead of Hunter.
My throat releases some tears and they slide down my cheeks. Wild sobs choke my neck. "I'm sorry," I utter. "I'm so sorry." I begin to sob and tears pour out endlessly. I lean down and press my forehead to his, and I shudder at out cold it is. "I'm so sorry." I whisper.
I hear a breath and I lift my head up to find Hunter, smiling, at me. He squeezes my hand and mumbles, "Don't be. Don't be sorry," he says in a raspy voice.
"But it's my fault." I gently counter. And it is. It always is. Whenever there's a life lost, there's no one to blame but me. These people are giving their lies for me, and I hate it. My vision gets blurred and when I squeeze my eyes shut, more tears pour down my cheeks. I hold onto him as long as I can.
"It's not. It's not. If anything, I owe you." He says. The tone dying in his voice.
"Why?" I say through a sob. But his eyes have closed. "Hunter! Hunter can you hear me?!" I scream in desperate attempt to get him back, I'm not ready to say goodbye. Thankfully his eyes lazily open.
"Because of you, I'm not afraid." His tone fades at the end of his sentence, and I know time's running out. I can feel him in my arms, holding his last breath. Now he speaks no louder than a whisper. "I'll be with Lucas. You never could keep us apart for long." He jokes, even in his condition. I laugh a little desperately as I feel his skin become ice.
The only thing I can do is talk with him, let him die peacefully, rather than call Mulch and Bucket to get my dad and try to prevent the inevitable. "What are you going to miss?" I ask.
"The winter." He replies. "So beautiful. A world of fragile things."
"What would you do? As a kid?" I ask.
"I would, play with Lucas, and my parents. We-we'd have a snowball fight, and build snowmen." He whispers."
"Sounds like fun." I choke out.
"Thank you, Hiccup." He says, and I feel my heart sink.
"For what?"
"You're a wonderful boy. And I will never forget you. Be strong. Fight hard." He tells, me.
Then his eyes flutter shut and I listen as he releases his last breath.
For a moment, I sit there, watching my tears drip down his cheek, one entering the small corner of his mouth. I'm hoping he can taste my mourning, love and respect for him in that tear. I feel Mulch's hand on my shoulder, and I coil up over Hunter. Not wanting to leave him. We were just getting to know each other, but even I know that I've made his days in the war, the best he's had despite his heavy loss.
The only tiniest sense of pleasure I have is the thought of Lucas and Hunter. Laughing. Calling each other. Hunting. Hugging. Reunited.
Mulch doesn't make me move, not that I would listen. Instead, he lets me sit with Hunter's body until Dad finally returns with Gobber and the others. With one look from Mulch to m, he knows the worst has happened.
I'm still unable to move. My legs too weak to bear my weight. I simply just stokr Hunter's hair until three Viking men gently move their hands under Hunter's body, and tentatively lift him from my lap, as if he's sleeping and they don't want to wake him up.
Several sets of arms open to embrace me. Skullette. Astrid. Gobber. Dad. But I don't accept any of them. I only hve one goal for tonight, and that's to remember Hunter.
Tonight, we honor Hunter with a traditional Viking Funeral.
I stand close by as men position Hunter's body so he's lying flat on his back, then they position his hands so one lays over the other. Then the men slowly fold each section of the cloth over until Hunter's entire body, and face is unseen. But I can still see his face through the outline it makes in the cloth.
Gobber has readied a long wooden board to place Hunter on so we can float him out to sea. But with no sea, we'll float him down the river. It's the last place he was happy here on earth anyway.
I stand next to my dad as Gobber instructs the men on how to position Hunter's cloth-covered body. One man drizzles some kind of jell-like substance around Hunter's body, then another takes a torch and the entire board blossoms in flames.
There's a small whispering above me and I look to see my dad, singing. It's a Funeral song that only our parents knew. Their children never heard it before since they always had funerals away from home. Dad taught it to me one day, so I wait until I'm ready to join in.
"Dark the stars, and Dark the moon.
Hush the night and the morning gloom.
Tell the horses and beat on your drum.
Gone their master, gone their son.
Dark the oceans, dark the sky
Hush the whales and the ocean tide."
I decide to join in.
"Tell the salt marsh and beat on your drum.
Gone their master, gone their son.
Dark to light, and light to dark.
Three black carriages, three whites carts."
Skullette joins in as I walk over and place Hunter's bow at his side, cautious not to touch the flames, but I doubt that pain will hurt as much as the one I currently feel.
"What brings us together is what pulls us apart.
Gone our brother, gone our heart."
Gobber and the men push Hunter's body out down the river, and it peacefully floats as the flames crack. I watch as the moon has settled on the horizon. Almost as if it's waiting for Hunter to come to the end of the river.
"Hush the night and the ocean tide.
Tell the salt marsh and beat on your drum.
Gone their master, gone their son."
Hunter's body soon floats out of sight. It's as if everyone takes a deep breath at once, then there's the sound of some sniffs and sobs. Then everyone's attention turns to me. It's like they're all expecting me to fall apart and beckon for someone to comfort me. But also, I was the one who watched Hunter pass, so they're probably wondering how I am.
But I don't know how to react. Let alone break down in front of them. While I do want to cry, while I do want to have someone to hold, I clamp my lips tight and hold it in. All I want is to go to bed and forget about today, and Hunter.
That night I dream of Lucas and Hunter. I dream of a world where Alvin and war don't exist, and everyone I love and know are still alive and intact.
We're in a forest. A white forest since it was winter. I'm back on Berk. Back home. Running through the woods with Hunter and Lucas. There must be at least five inches of snow, but I don't feel cold.
I'm running through the woods, looking for Hunter and Lucas in the white forest. I come to find Hunter hiding in a hollow tree. The space is bigger than it looks. I walk in ducking my head so I don't hit it against bark of the tree. Or maybe the tent flap.
I'm not in I'm not in my tent. I never was.
The fur on my sleeping bag feels warm. Like my green tunic I always wear. Fresh and knew thanks to mom. But now I don't know the woods anymore. The paths are wired. I'm lost. Hunter and Lucas are lost. I don't know where the winter sun went. It's colder now. Cold and gray and the air feels damp.
As I awaken to the new morning, I hear the faint wailing of a grief-stricken boy. His screams tearing at my throat looking desperately for a way out.
It's not me. It can't be me.
But it is.