After standing with my knife driven into Alvin's liver for a handful of seconds, I lean back, yank my knife free, and let the blood permeate my uniform and flow down my hand. Within seconds, the Vikings who were standing on the outside begin to jump in. Flooding the arena. I drop the knife and feel for my bow, but I flung it away when I pulled my knife.
The Vikings descend on me, but I don't run. Instead, I twist my neck down to rip away the pocket containing the Oleander berry. But instead, my teeth bite into something dry, and scaly. I jerk back to find Toothless covering the berry with his ear.
"Toothless move!" I demand. And he just grunts in return.
Suddenly, I'm jerked away from him with a hard yank that could possibly cause whiplash. The pocket gets ripped open and I watch as the berry becomes flat under Spitelout's boot. I transform into a wild animal. Kicking, clawing, biting and screaming. Doing whatever I can to free me from this web of hands.
Guards and Vikings alike lift me up above the crowd. I continue to thrash as I'm conveyed over the sea of people.
I start screaming for Skullette.
But it's pointless. And I know that. But she's the only person who I know would try to get me out of here. Even if it meant splattering blood all over the stones. But she can't help me.
I cry for m father.
I'm not even sure he knows what to do either. I'm not even sure he can help me. I've just committed the highest treason there ever was on Berk. Not even the power of being chief can save me tonight.
I'm on my own.
I keep thrashing until someone slams a bludgeon into my head. Knocking me unconscious. When I wake, I have a terrible pain in my head that hammers me from the inside. I open my eyes, but all I see is blackness. The world turns left and right and I feel sick. Voices from above are muffled but can be heard.
There's creaking and I catch the scent of salt. I'm on a boat. I'm about to move when I feel my hands are cold. I yank them forward, but they go no more than a centimeter. I'm chained to the back of the boat. I'm chained and blindfolded. They made sure to keep the chains short enough so that I couldn't move my hands behind my head and remove my blindfold.
Wherever they're taking me, they don't want me to see. I can't hear my father's voce, in fact no one sounds familiar. I continue to wriggle to no avail of freeing myself. I've never really ridden on a boat that often, so it feels like my intestines are being flopped and tossed and thrown all around the inside on my body. I have to literally put all my energy into fighting against the urge to convulse.
Footsteps can be heard and that's when I figure out that I'm below deck. The boots sound heavy on the wood floor. Judging from the sound of how dense, the man must be a guard. A big and very muscular man.
"Hello Hiccup. Glad to see you're awake." He says, but I don't reply. I hear him kneel down beside me and he talks to me in a stern voice. While I don't pay close attention to some parts, I get the main idea.
For the next number of days, sea mammals will supplement my diet and provide skins as we travel to my holding facility. He doesn't tell me what's going on, but I can take a wild guess. He also tells me they'll also make good ivory and oil. These are important trade commodities back home. I don't know why, not like I need to know that.
He tells me I'll be gone for a while and the trip to my holding facility will be a good few days. He can say whatever he wants. Like I care. I can hear his lips moving, but I just learned not to hear. "Nonetheless, we're advised to keep you well hydrated and fed. So try and keep things down until we get there." He tells me. Or more like he demands. "Don't think we feel sorry for you since you've been branded as a traitor."
The tone in his voice notifies me that he's a, former, Outcast soldier. I snarl and once I calculate where he is, I thrust my legs up and manage to find his shoulder, I bend my knees in and constrict them around his neck. He gasps and wheezes, but I lock my knees like a vise. Clenching all of what I've loss, all of what his terrible leader has done, and am hoping that I can relieve the pain by strangling him.
He slams his fist into the wooden floor and more footsteps are heard rushing down the stairs. Men jabber and yell as they try to get me off. I begin to scream. A horrible, blood-curdling sound that ices anyone's blood.
There's a metallic whoosh and the next thing I feel is a severe sting on my leg. This was on my calf, and when I don't loosen my grip, the next one's above my knee. Finally the pain to harsh that I let go and collapse on the floor. I tuck my knees into my chest, but with the feeling of satisfaction that I've bruised the man's neck.
I'm told that our supper for tonight consists of whale blubber, fish, and some sea plant I can't name. Not trusting anyone, my instincts say to deny it, but a familiar smell catches my attention. Dandelion. Light footsteps walk toward me. I jerk my head up, and they pause, but resume in my direction in a minute.
"Hello?" I whisper.
"It's me." a soft feminine voice says.
It's her! "It's you." I say out loud, but at a whisper.
"Yes."
"I'm so glad you're okay." I admit.
"Are you, okay?" she hesitates on the last word, knowing it's an obvious question. But I'm so relieved to, hear someone who still cares about me and is still trying to help me.
"I'm fine. And thank you. For everything you've done. I never would've survived without your kindness." She lets out a soft breath that might've been a chuckle. Then I feel a light kiss on my forehead.
I'm given a fair serving of dinner, and I take each sip as she gingerly brings a spoon to my lips and feel the fat drift down my throat. It has a bitter taste to it, and a long-lasting aftertaste. But it's so fattening that grease drips down my chin. I feel her dab my chin with a cloth, then wipe my mouth.
She keeps this up until she says the bowl's empty. "What's your name?" I ask.
There's a pause, and I guess she's looking around so no one will see, and then I feel her lean in close and whisper, "Lola."
With that, she leaves, and I want to call her back. To stay with me and help the loneliness I feel creep back to the hole it once came from. To help me before I come undone. I want her to save me from the nothing that I've become. Now that I know what I've lost, what I'm without, I don't want her to leave me. She can't leave me.
But then again, any recognition for her might result in me never seeing her again. Now that I'm an official juvenile, they'll probably want to take away everything I care about as a form of punishment.
That I'm not allowed to enjoy anything. So I let her go, and the yawning pit of loneliness and darkness grows wider and deepens. Even if it consumes me, the silence that's furlong been with me since Skullette's death, can help numb the pain.
I'll numb the pain until I'm practically made of stone.
Now that the meal's over, I'm fighting to keep the food down. My stomach's not used to the greasy foreign food. But I'm determined to keep it down. Soon my stomach feels uneasy, and the confinement of being below deck drives me insane. I begin to thrash like a caged animal who's extremely agitated.
No one comes to me even when I result to whimpering. I could thrash long enough for them to think that I'm having an anxiety attack, then maybe they'll unchain me and let me above deck. No one comes. But then there's the sound of an argument and Lola's voice can be heard.
I'm pretty sure she's arguing to let me go. When I hear a man talking, denying her, I start to frantically struggle as if I'm going crazy. When I hear Lola's voice again, I calm down enough so that I can hear her above the chains.
There's quiet chatter back and forth. Footsteps can be heard. Then suddenly, I hear the sound of a latch unlock and there's the sound of a metal-bar door yanked open. The salty-sea air infects my nose and I feel the cool sea breeze brush my face. Only then do I realize my forehead is moist with sweat.
The breeze makes my hair flop and flip everywhere. Whatever strands that get caught on my forehead stick together; forming bigger and bigger strands on my forehead. Lola's footsteps come up to me and I feel her wipe my forehead clean.
I try to use her as a reason to hold on. It's enough to keep the loneliness at bay, but not enough to destroy it.
The next couple of days are gurgling, and the only pleasantry I have to hold onto is the fact that I've managed to keep my breakfast, lunch, and dinners down in my stomach. After eating blubber, even for a couple of days, I crave deer meat more than I ever have.
Lola comes down periodically and I can feel the loneliness slowly deteriorate every time she comes down. For the next three days, I resort to sleeping the entire trip. Even through meals unless something appeals to me. Lola coaxes whatever she can into me, then when she knows that's all she's getting, she leaves me alone.
For the next three days, I sleep, eat whatever food Lola gives me, then go back to sleep again. This is the most relaxed I can get on this ship. I slowly begin to deteriorate like the mist on water's surface. Slowly becoming too lost to lose. Becoming numb from the inside out. Like my spirit's been banished to somewhere dark. Sleeping somewhere cod until someone finds it there and leads it back to me.
On the final day, the morning brings distress. My rejection of meals has burned me. My head throbs with every beat of my heart. Okay maybe it wasn't the best plan I could've come up with, but at least I lasted until the ride was over.
I'm released from the shackles on the wall, but my wrists have no mercy as seconds after, they're tied with a thick rough rope that scratches my skin with tiny claws. I'm half dragged, half carried up above deck, and then two crew members lay down the bridge connecting us to the dock.
I continue to jerk and jab, but the men still retain a tight grip on my biceps. I feel that dirt below our feet change into stone steps, then I hear a wooden door be chucked open, and then I'm lead into a room, then deposited onto a hard floor with a tapestry for a rug. The cuffs are removed and the door is slammed and locked behind me.
When I untie the blindfold, I find myself in a completely different room. In some home I don't recognize. I look around and find barred windows and the room is bare. Leaving it hollower than ever. The bed consists of nothing but a simple quilt that too thin to keep the winter from biting at my skin.
I push myself up, though it's a struggle to get to my feet, and walk over to the window where I look out and see a gray overcast in the sky. I look left and right and see the island is bare. No trees, no life. Anywhere. When my eyes find the charred remains of multiple buildings, I feel everything inside me go numb.
I'm back on Outcast Island.
Back to the place I destroyed. And my window has the perfect view of the entire city. And it hits me. I'm in Alvin's old compound. His quarters. It survived the fire. Where he stood by and watched his city burn at the hands of a, child. That child who destroyed everything. That boy, who thought joining the war, would help protect those he loved. But really, it only brought them to their death.
I'm surprised how intact the place still is. The only reminisce is the burned edges of the wood. Small fissures in the windows.
Figures they would put me in a place where I can look at the destruction I've cause straight in the eye. I can still faintly make out some of the bodies of citizens that tried to flee, but were overcome by the smoke. They now lay in various stages of decomposition. Food for scavengers. Blanketed by flies.
It's a cruel form of retribution. But it's what I deserve.
I was stupid to believe that whatever I had before could ever come to life again. No one will cry for my absence. They've probably already forgotten me. Am I that unimportant? Am I so insignificant? I only have myself to blame for it all.
The world I knew won't come back.
The life I had won't be mine again.
I walk away from the window and tour the small room. There's a closet that's been stripped bare and another leads to the bathroom. I step in and peel of my Dragon Conqueror uniform, but not before I unpin the lavender and gingerly sprawl it across the edge of the tub.
I manage to catch my faint reflection in the window. I'm badly bruised, even though the ones on my ribs have healed, it looks like they've faded and spread to other parts of my body. It hurts to strain my fingers. I think I might've broken two. There are purple and black bruises on my forearms from my struggle with the guards. I can easily make out handprints.
My head turns to the side and I can still clearly see the insignia of the Outcasts on my neck. I wish that skin would just peel off. I want to reminder. In some parts of my burned skin, my veins have risen up, giving me a freaky skeletal effect. The skin had easily blistered and ripped from the pulling and yanking in the crowd.
I lock the bathroom door and ignite the pitch coated logs beneath the water pump. The glow from the logs adds onto the light from the window. But with the gray overcast, I use the glow to help me find my way around.
The pump whistles softly to tell me the water is warm enough and I release the handle to drain its contents into the carved stone tub resting in the center of the room. The water stings against my cuts, and blood pollutes the water. With no soap, I simply rinse off, splash my face, soak and ruffle my hair, then towel off. There's nothing clean for me to put on, just the towel around my waist.
When I step out back into the room, my Dragon Conqueror suit has disappeared. In its place is an old, ragged and torn tunic with long sleeves, and simple pants and a boot. Even when I put them on, small blood spots bloom through the fabric. Goathy doesn't show up, no doctors do. But I don't care. I'm too far gone to care. Am I too lost to be saved?
I fall onto the bed and curl my knees into my chest, hoping to bleed to death. But it never happens. By late evening, the blood clots leaving me sticky and stiff, but still alive. I feel around for the lavender and bring it close to my chest, wishing, praying the Skullette can still help me. Or my mother. Someone.
I must've dozed off because when I push to a sitting position, I look to the small nightstand and see a meal has been sent up along with a vial of my medicine. I eat the food, swallow the medicine, and curl back up on the bloodstained wooden bed. I try to kill the pain, but I only bring more.
I lay down, dying from the inside, pouring crimson regret and betrayal. I cry, pray, and scream to Thor to return salvation to me. I feel like I'm dying. I long to die. My wounds cry for the grave. My soul cries for deliverance. Will I be denied because of what I've done?
Please, I beg. Let mercy come and wash all that away.
Recompense.
I'll face myself, erase it all, cross out what I've become. I'll face it all. Just to let it go. Put it to rest.
On the bed I lay, motionless and in pain. Losing everything. I can just see my life passing me by. I keep rethinking over and over how there's nothing left for me. My mother's dead. My lover's dead. My best friend was murdered. The other went mad. Brothers had died keeping me alive. A dragon is forever frozen in mud thanks to me. Citizens lost their homes because of me.
My father will probably disown me for shaming his name and for embarrassing him.
My friends would never commit to being friends with the village's assassin. If that's what I'm being called now.
There' just nothing left for me. Nothing.
I won't survive. I can't go on living this way. I'll never find a way to heal my broken soul.
The only things left for me is on the other side. A better life. I will be waiting until the day that I see her on the other side. Undo everything and take me. Take me home. Break these chains and let me fly to you.
The leather pouch that rests over my chest, filled with the dirt of Skullette's grave, becomes clutched in my fingers. Even though I'm on a level above the ground, with the bars, I can't jump to my death. I don't know how to make a noose, and the blanket's too small. I doubt I'll be given a daily dose of my medicine. And with it being a liquid, I could never hoard enough to knock me out with lethal dose.
I look over the thick wooden door and can see the shadow of two guards' feet standing outside. I'm being closely watched and listened for. Back on Berk, Dad's probably testifying against my possible execution. The icy silence still lingering has swallowed any symbol of hope I had left.
Even with Gobber at my father's side, killing I village elder is something even the chief can't defend too much against.
All I can do is give up. I resort to just lying on the bed without accepting any water, food or taking the medicine. I could do it too. Just die. If it weren't for the shooting pains, chills and severe tremors from the withdrawal of the drug.
Almost every time my attempt is crushed like an eggshell, and I spend my time on my hands and knees dipping my fingers into the green puddle and sucking the precious poison down my throat. It's hard to do since it's surrounded my glass from when I shattered the vial in a much stronger moment.
Look at what I've been reduced to.
I revise my plan of suicide by starvation. I'll just become a pale-skinned skeleton with huge eyes. I'm a couple days into my plan when one day, the unexpected happens.
Toothless comes in.
I had just woken up from a nap. It's getting harder and harder to stay awake, but when I wake up, I'm only disappointed. He slowly walks in and does a double take, not recognizing me. I stretch out my bony hand and he touches my palm. That same gesture that could never be forgotten.
Tears sting my eyes and I struggle to reach him. I don't have to. He hops onto the bed with me and circles me before lying down. His head by mine, and I pet his snout. He gently purrs and I can see a pain in his eyes. I'm sorry he has to see me like this. See what I've become and what I've been reduced to.
His tale curls around my legs, blocking a cold breeze, and his pitch-black wing unfolds and hover over me, providing warmth and shade from the bitter cold. He stays with me. He never leaves. And I feel a small sense of protection and love.
Just a tiny bit, but it's enough for me to cling to for just a little longer.