Hiccup!
Something's not right. I'm on fire. The balls of flame that erupted form the barrels shot through the constricting air and scattered everywhere. Draping over the crowd, caging them within. I was trying to run when on caught me. Ran its tongue up the back of my cape, and transformed me. But the last time I was set on fire, there was a tickling sensation.
There's no tickling.
I can't feel anything except for a single sensation: Agony. No sight, no sound, no feeling except for the unrelenting burning of my flesh. The scales of flames that grow from my body. I want to shed this skin, relief the pain. But I can't do anything. I consume myself with no end. There might be periods of unconsciousness, but it doesn't matter if I can't find any refuge in them.
Not anymore.
It's like I'm trying to escape something inescapable. I'm running. I don't know where, but just away from here. I lift and I soar for a while. But too soon my wings begin to falter. Gravity intensifies, and I'm pulled down with extreme force.
Falling. Free falling. I plunge beneath the surface of an icy cold mud puddle the color of Astrid's eyes. With nothing to pull me back up, I plunge deeper beneath the surface. Everything continues to burn beneath the surface. A dark shadow looms over me, but I no longer feel the comfort it once provided.
Thankfully, the agony in me quiets the pain. I weakly open my eyes, and the fire turns the blue water into a red and orange blaze. Even with the water blurring my vision, I can see the ones I love fly above me as Night Furies. Soaring and weaving. Calling me to join them.
I want to so badly, but the mud saturates my wings. Making it impossible to lift them. The mud molds me together. Freezing me in my place. I'm adrift, unable to navigate and can't figure out where I am. That's when the dead come. The ones I hate come and attack me from the abyss. Hideous scaly fish that bite at my scorched body with needle teeth. Biting again and again.
Dragging me deeper. But I don't care anymore. There's nothing left for me above the surface. There's nothing left for me. Nothing.
Then suddenly, a pitch black Night Fury tinged in blue dives head first into the mud. Her speed amazes me, discarding the space between us like it's nothing. She sinks her claws into my chest and tries to pull me back to the surface. The horrible scaly things pull me back down, virtually ripping my body in half.
"No Hiccup! Don't look down!"
I close my eyes and scream at the pain. But it's severely muffled thanks to the mud.
"Don't look into the eyes of the world beneath you. Don't look down. You'll fall down. You'll become their sacrifice!"
But the ones I hate are winning. And if she holds on, she'll suffer with me. She'll be lost.
"Skullette let go!" I scream. And finally she does.
Once she flies away, the mud soon morphs into water. There's only the sound of my breathing. Deep in the water, I'm deserted by all. I can't even describe the enormous effort it takes to draw the water in, then push it out of my lungs. I want to stop. I try and hold my breath, hoping I'll find peace the same way I did before.
It never comes.
The water forces its way in and out of my lungs against my will. "Let me die. Let me follow the others." I beg to whatever holds me here. I plead with Thor, Odin to drag me under. Heaven shine a light down on me. There's no response.
"I'm sorry." I cry.
The shadow come closer and I want to flee, but I'm tired. I'm so tired. Trapped for days, months, years. Dead but not allowed to die. Alive but as good as dead. Way down. I've been way down underneath this skin. Just waiting to hear my name again. But way down, all the way down, I can hear her voice. But I no longer understand. I'm sorry.
I've never felt so alone in my life. So alone that anything, anyone no matter how loathsome would be welcome.
The water morphs into flames as I flashback to my battle with the Green Death. Flames surrounded me. All I remember was falling into the heat. Drifting down knowing it's all over. As the shadow finally comes close enough to finish me, I close my eyes and expect the worse.
It snatches me and I feel it pull me up. There's much pain but there's also something like reality. The sandpaper of my throat. The smell of antiseptic. The sound of my father's voice. These things scare me and I try to return to the deep to make sense of them. But I can't escape the shadow. I'm so afraid to open my eyes.
I was looking to the sky when I knew I'd be swimming home.
In the end, I know there's no going back. Gradually I'm forced to accept who I am as I brake the surface.
A badly burned boy. With no wings. With no fire.
And no Lover.
In the moss-draped cabin of the infirmary, Goathy works her magic on me. As best she can. I hear over and over again how lucky I am. Thanks to Toothless, my eyes and most of my face was spared by the flames. My lungs and throat are recovering well from the smoke. I'll be as good as new.
Goathy supplies me with a constant smooth flow of the drug she fed me the first time I was recovering from battle. It opens the door to my old and new repertoire of dreams. My mother cooks me all my favorite meals. Mulch brings me a cod fresh out of the sea. Hunter and Lucas tell me all about their target practice.
But the pain is just too real.
Skullette looks beautiful in her blue-shaded dress as we dance in the arena along the bank of painted wildflowers. She always captivated me by that resonating light she always had. There's just too much between us that time cannot erase.
She must still be here. The lavender scent of her hair and skin infects my nose. Her presence still lingers and it won't leave me alone. Not that I want it to.
We've always been there for each other. When I'd cry she'd wipe away all of my tears. When she'd scream, I'd fight away her fears. And she held my hand through all those months. But it feels like she still holds half of what I am. She holds all of the pleasant things that I've lost, and without them, without her, I don't know.
I just. I don't know.
Her face used to hold my once pleasant dreams and her voice used to always chase away the insanity in me. But I feel so alone and I'm wondering why I feel this way. So many fears are swimming around and around in my mind.
One day I awake with expectations and know I won't be able to stay in my dream land. I must take food by the mouth. Move my own muscles. Make my way to the bathroom. It's the harsh smack on the face that reality gives me to realize I've been alone all along.
All just a dream in the end.
A brief appearance by my Dad clenches it.
"Don't worry," he says. "I saved him for you."
Goathy's puzzlement grows over why I'm completely unable to speak. Many inspections are done, and while there is slight smoke damage to my vocal chords, that doesn't account for it. Finally, Goathy comes up with a theory that I've become mentally, rather than physically mute. That my silence has been brought on by emotional trauma. Like the way I was when Mulch was murdered. Only now, it's worse.
Although she's presented a hundred possible remedies to cure me, she just tells everyone to leave me alone. So I don't ask about anything or anyone, but people bring me a steady stream of information.
On the war: The citizens were all brought back to Berk as refugees, and they've each been given a new home in some new buildings that were recently built. They're safe. They're completely clean. And they've been given new clothing. Any soldiers that were brought have become prisoners of war.
On Alvin: He's been held prisoner, awaiting trial and most certain execution.
On my team: Gobber, who took two arrows in combat, is in charge of Dragon Academy. At least until I feel I'm ready to go back. True was promoted to second in command next to Dad for squad control. Bucket's been doing better and I've been given permission to visit him when I please.
On my family: Dad's relieved I'm still alive.
On Skullette's family: Chief Boggs buries his grief in his work.
Having no work, the grief buries me. All that keeps me going is Dad's promise. That I can kill Alvin. And when that's done, nothing will be left.
Eventually, I'm released from the infirmary after a few weeks and am allowed to walk freely among the village. Dad's almost never home. He's always at the Great Hall for discussions on Alvin's case and then coming home late at night. It falls on Gobber to check on me, make sure I'm eating and taking my medicine. It's not an easy job.
I begin to take on an unusual habit of seeking strange little hiding places. I wander anywhere in the village, completely unauthorized. My places are dim and quiet and impossible to find. A closet of furs. A cabinet in the library. Multiple crawlspaces throughout the village.
My places are dim and quiet and impossible to find. I curl up, make myself smaller, and try to disappear entirely. I still haven't found Skullette. I keep thinking she'll come and find me and make everything better. But she won't. She can't. Not anymore. I've tried so hard to tell myself that she's gone. But the mere thought pains my body to the core and I start shaking.
Wrapped I silence, I rock my prostatic foot back and forth, the squeaking of it is strangely comforting. I fall into an insipid routine. I eat the food, take the medicine and am required to bathe. It's not the water I mind, but my reflection.
The parts of my body that were burned – both my forearms, the skin bellow my ribcage, my upper right thigh, my neck and my right shoulder – some retain newborn-baby pinkness. While others, the skin that deemed damaged but salvageable, look red, hot, and melted into place. Parts of my real self, are pale white. I was never one to tan very easily.
I'm a bizarre patchwork quilt of skin.
I wouldn't care so much, but the sight of my body brings back the memory of the pain.
And why I was in pain.
And what happened before the pain started.
And how I watched my dearly beloved become a human torch.
Closing my eyes doesn't help. Fire burns brighter in the dark.
It's been a full month since the ambush. It just feels like days since I've been asleep and drugged for the whole time. But even so, I can still feel the flames of the fire tickling at my skin. Combined with the pain of the grief that I've lost, it's just too much. I can normally push her right out of my heart with the help of the drug. But I'm usually too tired to fight.
And the whole thing begins.
I let her sink into my veins. And every time, I feel the pain like it's new. Everything that we were, everything that she said, everything that we did and that I couldn't do plays through my mind. Her memory burns like a fire. And with every one, it grows higher and higher. I can't get over it. I can't put out this love.
So I just sit in the flames, and close my eyes tightly. I pray that she'll come back. Hold on and hope that I'm dreaming, and she'll come wake me up. The pain is worse than it ever was.
"Please," I whisper. "Please help me." I plead. Tears sting my eyes and stream down my cheeks.
I know that she can't hear me, but I just need her to save me.
Late one afternoon, I've lost track of days. Why should I anymore? Until Alvin's trial is decided, there's no reason. I was walking toward the Dragon Academy. I'm not sure why, though. I guess it's because it's one of the few places I was once happy. Toothless comes through the gate and slowly walks up to me; as if he's afraid he'll spook me.
I turn to him and we stare at each other for long moments. Then I naturally hold out my hand, and he touches his nose to my palm. Just like he always does. I look back into the arena and see Gobber instructing Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout and the twins. Their dragons seated at their sides. Toothless takes a seat next to me as I observe.
Fishlegs is the first to notice me watching. He elbows Astrid and points in my direction. I don't move. She looks up and a smile comes on her face. I don't smile back. It goes away into a small upturn in the corners of her mouth. She gives me a wave, but I just stare. When I don't react, she just goes back to listening to Gobber.
I'm sure he knows I'm there, but after seeing Astrid's reactions, her know I'm not going to gesture to him either. So instead, I walk away and Toothless follows. I don't pet him, but he doesn't beg. He knows me better than anyone.
Even better than . . . her. I swallow an enormous lump that forms in my throat.
We wander into the woods and reach the Cove. This was where I had my first kiss with her. Where we would always fish. Where we would train. Where we had our first fight. But she's not here.
Where is she? I ask in my head.
Toothless perks his ears and ruffs. As if he heard me. I look to him with pleading eyes. He nuzzles my cheek, but I turn away. I just stare at the glass-like surface of the water. Toothless comes behind me and nudges my hand. I look at him and he positions himself for me to mount. I look to him with hesitation and confusion. He just ruffs again, and I just mount.
For once, Toothless steers us to a secret path I've never noticed. I didn't even know it existed. He flies down at the edge of a clearing. Or once was a clearing. Now, nothing remains but a pile of scorched debris and a large soot circle. It's been like this forever. I've learned from past experience how to identify fresh and old burns.
I look around. Wondering why of all places Toothless would bring me here. We land in the shelter of the trees, and I hop off. I skid across moss as I reach an oak tree, and grab onto the trunk for balance. I don't know what possessed me to move, but I leave the shelter of the trees; and walk toward the debris on shaking legs.
The soil beneath me turns to ash. Cold black flakes that cling to my boot as if trying to hold me back. Toothless calls to me. He's on the other side of the clearing. Perpendicular to where I'm standing. My boot grinds the sooty embers beneath me to dust as I cross the scorched ground. I follow Toothless. He occasionally looks back to see if I'm still following.
The foundation of trees is still there. Buried beneath the ash, a jumbled mound of scorched wood I have to climb up and over. My feet skid as I reach the top, sending me sliding down the other side. When I reach the bottom, I look up at Toothless, but stop when in catch the sight of something else.
Just beyond the edge of the destruction, where the ash bleeds gently into the soil again, a soft swell in the ground is marked by a small wooden cross painted white.
I can't breathe. My ears roar, and Toothless says something, but I can't understand the words because I'm walking toward the grave. Toothless steps to the side of the grave, and holds out his head to me. I hold onto it without thinking, but I can't feel him.
I can't even feel myself, and I don't want to. Let this be some other boy standing here, holding a dragon's head while the rest of this world comes crumbling down.
Please.
I move my hand away. The cross is beautifully carved and someone has painted the words Skullette in the center. They forget to add Beloved Daughter and Friend at the end.
Grief is a yawning pit of darkness blooming at my core. I can hardly stand beneath its weight. The sharp edges of Hunter's and Mulch's death collide with the unthinkable sight before me, and something inside me shatters as I fall to my knees.
I can't bear this. I can't.
The hope that flickered within me floats like ash into the darkness.
She's here, but not here.
I want to die too. Just stop breathing and hope I find her on the other side.
She's not here.
I sink down and lie on top of the dirt.
She's nowhere.
I'm bleeding inside where no one will see. Where no one will ever know to look.
She's gone.
She's gone.