I Own Nothing

All Rights Reserved

Chapter 22

A Night Time Visitor

Stoick slumped in his chair, happy to finally have a little peace. It had been 3 days since their return, and in that time Stoick had been busy sorting out the usual problems as well as dealing with what had arisen during his 'absence,' including trying to tie up some loose ends, namely Dogsbreath. Search parties had gone around the island and several likely homes had searched, including his shack and Mildew's hut. So far he had not turned up, but Stoick was not unduly worried about it. He had planned to either banish or execute Dogsbreath, and felt that not finding him simply saved them the trouble. Of a further concern, Gobber had informed him that the ships had gone out to fetch aid from the Bog Burglars and the Owl Guts. Rather than send out more ships to tell them there was no need to come, Stoick decided he would welcome them to stay at his island as guests and entertain them for a week or two, as well as discuss dragons with them. He hoped Hiccup would be around by then to support him in this. His plans meant preparations had to be made to accommodate the coming tribes, and these had taken up most of his day. He was very worn out and glad to get a little peace and quiet after dinner.

There had certainly been no peace and quiet when they had returned. Stoick doubted any of them had ever received a warmer welcome, and felt very touched to see his people so relieved to see him again. Gobber had almost wrung his arm so much it felt ready to fall off, he had seen the parents of Astrid, the Twins, and Fishlegs embracing their children as if Midgard depended on it, and everywhere everyone was shouting 'what happened? What happened?' Nobody had seemed too pleased to see Spitelout or Snotlout again, but the latter had joined his friends and their families, while the former had stayed by him the entire time as Stoick told them the story—with a few omissions on personal matters. Fishlegs at certain points was called upon to fill in a gap. It was one of the first times the man had ever spoken to the entire village, and he seemed to find it both thrilling and terrifying. For that matter, everybody found the story to be both thrilling and terrifying. It was the kind of story that seemed set to become legendary among the Berkians.

Only one thing had really marred the happiness of the reunion: Hiccup. As soon as Gobber had greeted them he had asked where Hiccup was, and a few people, including Olaf Hofferson, echoed the question. While Stoick trusted his people for the most part, family matters were still private matters, and he was reluctant to tell them the details. So he replied formally that Hiccup, like any leader, had some other affairs to sort out and left it at that. He told Gobber more about it that night, much to the smith's relief.

Stoick had already noticed a strong turnabout in people's opinions of Hiccup and dragons. It was amazing how fast the mind of the public can change. It was almost scary. The fact that Hiccup had put aside what was likely a great deal of animosity to help them, had engineered the escape, taken a severe beating for it, fought alongside them, and had actually succeeded in doing all of this impressed a lot of people, as had the indisputable evidence that dragons had actually helped Berk out. Of course, some saw everything as an act of manipulation, but the opposition to this crowd was much more vocal than it had been a few weeks ago. This boost in support, however, had the natural side effect of prompting much louder arguments.

And speaking of which, Stoick was snapped out of his thoughts by a loud ruckus in the plaza. A chorus of loud and angry voices began to reach his ears. With a groan he got out of his chair and went to the door. By his time in life it was purely habitual: when people shouted he got up to deal with it. He scowled once he recognized the voices. Spitelout and Mildew were shouting the loudest, while the yells of Fishlegs and Astrid carried over shouts of dissent and agreement, leaving him with a very strong suspicion of what this was all about.

"He saved our lives and you taunt him!" Fishlegs shouted, "He came to help us after we beat him, mocked him, and tried to kill him! He put this aside and saved our Chief! Everybody on Berk owes him our gratitude!" Stoick was secretly pleased to see a majority were nodding and murmuring approval.

"An 'e wants ta bring our worst enemies ta live wit us!" Mildew yelled, but this was old news and few made any reaction to it. "'E wants to make us live with monsters 'oo burn our homes and destroy our food! Monsters that kill our families!" He spotted Stoick, "Chief! Tell me ya haven't given inta this fool's dreamin'! He betrayed us! And have ya realized 'e wants ya to live wid the beasts that took yer wife? Yer lovely and wonderful Valka will be cringin' up in Valhalla at the thought of 'er killers livin' on Berk!"

Stoick eyed him crossly. "I've used that reason for years, Mildew. Look at what it's done for my family. And I highly doubt Valka would be cringing in Valhalla, as you oughta know very well."

Mildew had the sense not to make some snarky remark about Valka's opinion of dragons. Had he not had that sense, a broken and bloody nose would have been his reward for speaking.

Spitelout tried to resume the offensive. "Even so, them beasts are a danger to Berk! Look at what they did to it the last time he came here!"

"We set the trap, Spitelout. The destruction that night was our doing,"

That was a painful subject for everyone, and a lot of people bent their heads shamefully. Stoick looked around at his tribe.

"Look at us. We're a sorry lot, aren't we? I threw a spear at my own son and hardly anybody batted an eye over it! And now that he's rescued me his own people are still trying to drag his name through the mud—just like we did when he was a boy! And we're still arguing over dragons. After all I've heard and seen I've had enough of it! So I'm going to end this debate once and for all: if Hiccup chooses to come back to Berk, he will be welcomed here, and if he offers to let some dragons come and live here, I will agree to it! And if anyone objects to this—"

"Letting 'em here disgraces everything it means to be a Viking!"

"Who decides what it means to be a Viking? Don't hide behind that excuse, Mildew! It won't work anymore!"

"An' 'ow do we know that brat's not gonna enslave us wif 'is savage beasts?"

A loud nasally laugh rang out over them. Heads spun around wildly as they tried to locate the source. Nobody could find it, but it gave Stoick the opportunity to declare his decision was not opened to discussion and ordered everybody to go about their business for the evening.

Sometimes being a chief could be tiresome, he thought as he reentered his home. Every now and then, especially when he had to take care of squabbles he'd rather avoid, he felt a slight longing to not be Chief anymore. Maybe it was almost time to retire. He was not exactly a youngster now.

"People. They'd bicker over having nothing to bicker about."

Stoick nodded. "Ain't that the truth—HICCUP!"

His son was sitting in the chair by the fireplace, a broad grin on his face. Stoick, once he had gotten over the surprise, was so happy to see him he wanted to run over to him and give him a big hug, but held back, uncertain of what to do. So instead he said "Hiccup, what are you doing here?"

Hiccup raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Is that a rhetorical question?"

"No."

"Oh. I thought it might be." He twiddled a twig in his fingers. "In that case, I am sitting here to have another discussion with you. I came in through the back door."

"But that door's locked!"

"Yes it was. If you ever want to keep me out ask Gobber to make you a stronger lock sometime."

Stoick placed a stool before Hiccup and sat on it. "How's your back?"

Hiccup made a face. "It's mending."

"Good ta hear."

For a few minutes they just awkwardly looked at each other, waiting for the other one to say something, and laughing at random moments because they could not think of what to say.

"Well this feels a bit strange. Normally you'd be on a stool and I'd be in the chair!" Stoick said at last.

"That was when I was so small I couldn't get into a chair without help."

"Oh yes, but still—"

"I heard some of that argument, by the way. You must tell Mildew that he needs some new material if he's going to make any headway. I don't think people are buying his reasons much."

"Perhaps you can tell him yourself tomorrow?" Stoick hinted.

"Perhaps." Hiccup looked serious now.

"You—you are here to stay, right? There's been a lot talk about dragons coming to live on Berk, and I...if it means you'll come home, I'm willing to try it. What do you say to that?"

Hiccup was touched but kept it hidden. "And what about Drago?"

"What about him? Didn't you say you had plenty of time to plan the next move?"

"Stoick, let me get to the point and the reason I'm here right now. I've been trying to avoid a direct war with Drago for some time, but it's becoming clear now that I'm just hiding from the inevitable. The last time we beat him we mostly just destroyed his base, took his dragons, scared his men away, and forced him to flee. That was shortly before that Chief gathering I dropped in at. At that point I honestly thought he was finished, or just going to be a minor irritant and nothing more. That was one reason for why I showed up and offered my terms to everyone. I thought that having Drago dealt with I had the time to begin my integration plans, and as a result I was a bit too informative. I thought real peace was about to arrive. I was wrong. My information instead prompted people like Dagur to side with Drago when he reemerged. Siding with him promises rewards more suited to their tastes than siding with me does.

"So Drago has gotten places for refuge, ships, and men. His trappers have been out getting more dragons, and we've been stopping them, but even without the dragons he's a danger. After what we did on Berserk I toyed with coming to Berk and starting to integrate dragons, especially after I saw how supportive people like Astrid were, but I've realized we don't have the time. We've given Drago and his people a black eye, but we need to go for the throat now. So I have come to propose an alliance in war."

Stoick eyed him thoughtfully. "Surely you could handle this yourself? After all, you've got dragons on your side."

"I probably could beat him with just dragons, but Drago's getting more allies, and I thought I should too. He's already sent Adoncia to pay a call upon Norbert the Nutjob. I sent dragons to intercept her but she and her Razorwhip fought them off and gave them the slip. So, in a game like this we're going to need all the players we can get on our side." He also secretly wanted to bring the Vikings into safe and close contact with the dragons. Much of his success with Astrid, Fishlegs, and the Twins, had happened after they had been around dragons, and he wanted to repeat this on a larger scale.

Stoick understood. "Like the Bog Burglars and Owl Guts?"

"Exactly. They'll be arriving here in a few days, as you know. Once they arrive we organize and launch an assault upon Drago's forces. With the dragons and combined fleets we can throw Drago off balance and finish him off once and for all. The Berserker harbor is still a wreck, and few ships are prepared. I'd go out and get more allies if there was more time, but we oughta attack now while he's still crippled."

Stoick considered. As a father he naturally wanted to agree with his son, but as a Chief he had to consider other matters as well. "Then tell me why we should go to war for dragons. Don't look at me like that. Consider this as practice. You're going to have to persuade Gort and Bertha about this when they get here, and you'll have to persuade the rest of Berk too."

"All right then, answer me this: do you honestly think Drago is going to leave Berk alone now? As for Gort and Bertha, they're already against him since they haven't sided with him. We've got to unite because we're stronger that way, you know that."

Stoick thought for a moment of that horrible night he had first seen Drago, where he had seen the other Chiefs burn, and his resolve hardened.

"You're certain Drago won't leave us alone?"

"Would you if you were in his place after what just happened?"

"Probably not."

"Then do we have an alliance? A real one this time?"

"I thought you were in favor of peace. That's what you were preaching to us at that meeting."

Hiccup sighed again. "Like I said, Dad, I think we've got a war whether we like it or not. Drago's going to force it on us once he's ready to, so we should get him before that time comes. It's like a fever: you might not want one but sometimes you get one, and when you do, you have to fight it to heal."

"I know what you mean," Stoick shook his head, "Sometimes there's no good option, but an option must be selected sooner or later."

"And the option of doing nothing often makes the problem even worse. So do we have an alliance?"

Stoick nodded and they shook hands, albeit a bit stiffly.

"But you never did answer my question. There's been a lot of talk about dragons coming here. Odin, there's been talk of little else! What do you have to say about that?"

He raised a finger. "I approve of it, of course, but there's no time now. So once this mess is dealt with and Drago is finished, give me one month to integrate a handful of dragons into life here on Berk. If I can convince a majority by the end of it, we will continue and expand the progress. If I cannot, I will take the dragons away and we will never bother Berk again. Is that agreeable?"

A year ago it would have been obvious what his decision would be. Thor, even two months ago it would have been obvious. Tonight it was still obvious to him, but the decision itself had changed.

"All right, son. As long as it does not interfere with our safety and prosperity, you will get your month."

Hiccup looked relieved. "Thank you."

"So does this mean we're good, you and I?"

"No,"

Stoick nearly leapt to his feet. "No?"

"No," Hiccup repeated coldly.

"But—why?"

"Really, Stoick? You really have to ask?"

Stoick put his head in his hands, "No, I suppose not."

"Darn it, Stoick, I can forgive most of the stuff before—it's been so long I've gotten over most of it already—but you tried to kill me and you very nearly succeeded! Do you think I can forget and forgive that because you ask me to?"

"Then why are you here?" Stoick demanded.

"I told you why." Hiccup looked over at the mantle evasively, "and…forgiveness is earned, and you can't earn it if you stay separated," The darker part of him actually enjoyed watching his father like this. It felt a little nice to be able to make Stoick upset like this. Of course, he reminded himself, he could not indulge himself too much or it would grow too cruel.

"True," Stoick nodded sadly, "well then…where are the dragons? Where's the Night Fury?"

"He's in your bedroom."

"WHAT?"

"Well I had to put him somewhere. Did you think I'd leave him outside?" He also wanted him somewhere he could attack from if Stoick tried anything hostile.

"So you put me in the smelliest room I've ever been in."

"Oh shush, it can't be that bad!"

"You're just used to it!"

Stoick rushed over to his bedroom and opened the door. The Night Fury stuck his large head out and looked right into Stoick's eyes. For a wild moment Stoick thought he was looking into Hiccup's eyes. He shook himself and went warily back to his stood.

Hiccup's gaze was attracted to a dust covered journal that lay on the mantle of the fireplace. With some difficulty he rose and picked it up. "So that's where this one was. Did you ever look at it?"

Stoick needed a moment to figure out what it was, and then shook his head. "No, I—I couldn't bring myself to look at anything you'd made, after you disappeared. I haven't even set foot in your room since the day I lost you." He shook his head again. "I imagine it's filthy by now."

"It was the last time I was in it."

"You mean you left it in a filthy state?"

"No. I came back here about four years ago. We'd just finished building my room in the Sanctuary. I wanted to retrieve a few things I'd left behind. I couldn't take everything I owned when I first left, you understand. Toothless couldn't carry all of it. Four years later, we slipped back here one night and took what I wanted. Nobody knew we came."

"Of course they didn't. I am a Night Fury, remember." Toothless said. He was having a bit of trouble squeezing through the door to Stoick's room. Stoick's home had not been built to accommodate Night Furies, a fact Hiccup resolved to change if the chance ever arrived.

Curious, Stoick walked up the rickety steps to his son's old room and slowly pushed the door opened. It was even worse than he had feared. Dust lay several inches thick. Every piece of furniture was rotted. Much of the walls were covered in mold and filth. The cloth over the window and the blankets on the bed were raggedy moth eaten and. Cobwebs hung around the ceiling, beetles were living in the corners, spider webs were all over the place, and he suspected some there was a mouse nest or two in the closet.

"Well, this is certainly going to take some time to clean up!" Stoick groaned as he went back downstairs. "You certainly can't sleep in there tonight! Here, you can use my bed until we get this taken care of."

"Thanks, but that won't be necessary. The floor will do fine. We've had plenty of hard beds in the past, haven't we, Bud?"

Toothless joined them besides the fireplace. "We didn't have any on the plains in African or in the Alps."

"Then again, those silk beds in India sure were nice," Hiccup said with a dreamy smile. "I wanted one in the Sanctuary, but it gets too cold to use silk for a blanket."

"And those girls in silk were pretty nice too, you told me!" Toothless grinned.

"I'm very glad my Dad can't understand you when you say things like that."

Indeed, Stoick looked very confused. Hiccup just laughed and suggested they sit down and talk about plans for battle. Stoick declined, suggesting that they save that discussion for when the other chiefs would be there. Instead he asked Hiccup what his plans for Berk were. Hiccup warmed up to the subject immediately. He pulled out a bundle of parchment from his flight suit and showed it to Stoick.

It contained designs of infrastructure and plans for what he wanted to do with Berk. To prevent the food stores from being broken into he wanted to build new ones using metal that would be dragon-proof. He also wanted to use that metal for the floor so a dragon could not tunnel in. He wanted to have better and more efficient fire fighting techniques, and planned to later train a group of dragons to serve as a permanent fire brigade. He wanted saddles, ropes, and flight suits for each rider and dragon. He wanted to use dragon dung for fertilizer, have dragons help with herding, fishing, and harvesting, blacksmithing, and building.

In other words, he told Stoick, he wanted to do to Berk what he had done to the Sanctuary. Above all, however, he wanted people to have dragons to ride and take care of, not as pets but as members of their own family.

"Well that all sounds pretty interesting son." Stoick chuckled. "I wonder what Val would have made of it." Hiccup looked confused. "Ah, I've never really told you about her, have I?"

"Not really. I don't remember much of what you did tell me, it was so long ago."

"She thought like you did, son. She was convinced dragons were not what we thought, that co-existence was possible, and that we were making things worse by fighting them. I remember the arguments we had over it. I was willing to listen in those days because I didn't hate dragons then. Oh, I was opposed to them and killed them whenever I could, but I didn't hate them. So when Valka suggested we could find a way to have peace without more war, I was willing to try, but of course, nobody knew how to achieve that. I mean, I couldn't just go negotiate a peace treaty with them, now, could I?"

"The language barrier has been a problem, I'll give you that, but you can't learn how to communicate with them if you keep killing them!"

"I see that now. Nobody could back then except Valka. The rest of us thought she was crazy, but she was my wife and a dangerous fighter in her own right, so they rarely said she was wrong to her face. Except Mildew, of course, but I reckon he'd do the same thing to Odin himself. And then she was taken and it seemed to prove that she was just a dreamer. And of course, I was left behind with an infant to look after and a huge desire for revenge, and…well, you know the rest."

Stoick was surprised at how much he had just said. It was probably more than he had said to Hiccup in the year before Hiccup disappeared. Once he had started, it just seemed so natural to keep going. For his part, Hiccup listened intently.

"I didn't know mom liked dragons."

"Well, after she was gone I wasn't about to start teaching you what she believed."

"But nobody else on Berk did either, as far as I can remember. Not even Gobber."

"I can guess why. During the first years after her abduction nobody dared say anything about her ideas because they feared my reaction—and they were right to—and by the time you'd gotten old enough to understand, Valka was old news to everybody else, and her ideas had no foundation in our eyes. By the time you were older, it was a subject nobody was interested in." He sighed, "And by then we were growing apart and were barely talking anyway."

"And Gobber?"

"Gobber knew better than to start telling you things about Valka I didn't want you to hear. I was trying to turn you into a dragon fighter, not get you to side with them." Hiccup snorted at the irony of that. "Also, Gobber may have been more level headed than most of us, but he didn't believe Valka's ideas either. And again, by the time you were old enough to understand it was ancient and forgotten history for most of us. Valka was just another casualty in an endless war. Everyone else moved on. But son, there's something I've been wondering ever since I found out you were still alive..."

"You want to know if she is somehow still alive too. It was obvious you were going to ask me that." Hiccup shook his head and considered his answer. "I never came across her, Stoick. I never looked. I never knew she thought well of dragons, and I never considered that she might have survived being carried off."

"But now you do son, and I want your honest opinion: do you think there's a chance she's still alive?"

"A chance, perhaps, but it'll be a very long one. Understand…Stoick, when I ran away, I had to depend a huge amount on Toothless for survival, but that was fine because Toothless and I were already friends. Our very first meeting was not…well, pleasant." Now that he thought about it, he had never actually explained to any Viking just how he and Toothless had become friends. But that could wait. "But mom and the dragon were not friends when she was taken—I'm assuming anyway. And while I'll never believe that dragons 'always go for the kill,' the fact still is that dragons are wild creatures and can be dangerous and yes, some do become man killers—there's a bad fish in every net you know. Unless the dragon wanted mom for some other purpose—and I have no idea what that would be—I don't see how she could still be alive. And if she somehow escaped, how could she have survived over 20 years in the wild without help?"

"I remember asking similar questions when you disappeared, when I was trying some way you could still be alive. The truth surpassed all my wildest dreams. But Hiccup, if any Viking in existence besides you could befriend a dragon and live with it, it would be your mother. In any case, have you ever seen the kind of dragon that took her? I know I've described to you what it looked like."

"Yeah, you told me if I ever saw a four winged dragon with a head like an owl to run and get you at once. They're called Stormcutters. I haven't seen one myself, but my friend Midnight has come across a few. Like Snow Demons, Stormcutters like the colder regions of the world, and by that I mean the regions that have snow and ice that never melt. The places to the far north that make Berk look almost temperate. I'll ask her about them next time I see her." He stood up and faced the wall, deep in thought.

"What is it?"

"I'm just thinking about how to find Mom, assuming she is still alive. Even if she is, it's still a big problem, because she could be anywhere after having over 20 years to travel. I've gone south and east to an extent, but I've never been further west than Ireland, and there's an entire world beyond that. Anything could be out there. For all we know there could possibly be entire countries of dragon riders, like what I saw in China only bigger. That's another problem—it's almost impossible to track a dragon in the air. They can go in any direction and leave no traces behind." He yawned. "But of course, we'll never know until we go out and explore further. Unfortunately, it's too dangerous to do so until Drago and his cronies are dealt with." He yawned again.

"Tired?"

"A little, yeah."

"You should get some sleep then. Are you sure the floor will suffice for you?

"It'll be fine, don't worry,"

"All right then. I've got to send word out about a meeting tomorrow morning. I'll be back in a little bit,"

But neither Hiccup nor Toothless went to bed. Instead they stayed in alert positions with weapons at the ready until he came back. They then waited until Stoick went to bed himself.

"I'm willing to try again," Hiccup whispered to Toothless as they listened for any sign of people approaching, "That doesn't mean I've forgotten,"

"Come on you lazy good for nothing trash! Get moving! Get those lines in place! Hurry it up or I'll use your faces to hammer the nails in!" Dagur shouted. He stormed about the docks, whip in hand and screaming obscenities at the repair crews. They had been working around the clock, trying to salvage and repair every ship possible and make the harbor usable again.

It was incredible, Drago thought as he watched Dagur stomping and shouting. Just last night he demanded someone read him the story of Oscar Oinker and the Boiling Tub of Petunia Juice before going to bed. Now, as crews worked in shifts around the clock to get the ships ready, he was directing work like the world's most relentless slave driver, which was fine by Drago. He was impatient to get going with his plans.

Drago himself deemed manual labor as undignified for a person of his strength and importance. He would do it if it was necessary, but as they had every Berserker on the island at their disposal, he saw no need to assist with the work. He had more important things to do, like meet with Adoncia, who had arrived earlier that evening.

"Dios mío," she had said when she saw the destroyed harbor. "Did Hiccup do all of this?" She had laughed when he told her it was. But now he wanted serious information out of her.

"Adoncia."

"Sí?" She looked at him casually, as though nothing he could say would surprise or alarm her in the slightest.

"Well?" he barked.

"Well what?"

"Don't give me your lip right now; I'm not in the mood! Is the Czernobog ready?"

"Sí, sí, esta listo, sí,"

"And stop talking in Spanish!" Drago knew several languages but not that one.

"Yes it's ready!" Adoncia snapped.

"Good!" That was the first good news Drago had heard in days. "I want you to leave at once. Tell them I want the Czernobog to sail here immediately."

"At once?" Adoncia yawned, "really, mi amor, all of your 'at onces' are beginning to tire me out a little."

"We don't have time to rest!" Drago snapped. "While we rest that boy will be plotting how to finish us off! We must strike him first! You'll never see him again if we don't," he added suggestively.

Adoncia snorted. "Don't try playing that hinting game, Drago. That's my job."

"But you know it's true," he grinned, "don't you want to have Hiccup's chained up body in your arms and plant kisses on his beaten face?"

Adoncia smiled. "Before you kill him, I hope. Making love to corpses is an intriguing idea but I'd rather not. Oh and speaking of corpses, I found someone close to becoming one in a boat out in the ocean."

"Oh?"

"Sí. Guess who it was? No, no, you never will—it was Dogsbreath!"

"That fool you got to drug Stoick?"

"Sí,"

Drago was only interested in what Dogsbreath might be able to tell them. "What have you done with him?"

"He's in a cell right now. I assured him it just was our standard policy and he would be freed as soon as we determined he was on our side."

"Did you tell him this as you were kissing him?"

She pretended to look shocked. "Dios mío! However did you guess?"

"What did he tell you?" Drago asked, ignoring her question.

"Not much. He hid in some old man's house for a few days, then stole a small boat and fled as soon as he could."

"What about Berk? Does he know what's going on now?"

"As far as he knew the Chief was still a prisoner." She replied seriously. Drago hit the table in frustration. If Dogsbreath was unaware of the escape, there was little he could tell them about recent activity on Berk.

"I doubt Berk will want him back."

"Only to use the Blood Eagle on him, I imagine."

"Still, one last time couldn't hurt," Drago decided. "All right, Adoncia, you get your wish. You will leave tomorrow."

She smiled sweetly, "Gracias,"

"In the meantime, work your magic on Dogsbreath and find out everything he knows. And I mean everything."

She smiled even wider. "Gracias,"

At that moment Alvin stormed in. "Takin' too long!" he shouted. He spotted Adoncia. "Oh, pardon me, missy, ah didn't know a lady was 'ere."

"And I didn't know a devilishly handsome man was here either," she smiled, wiggling her hips a little.

"Knock it off you two." Drago ordered. "What do you want, Alvin?"

"This is takin' too long, Drago! Ah want blood! Ah wanna kill some Hooligans!"

"You had your chance several days ago and blew it, didn't you?" Drago growled as he pulled out a sheet of parchment. He wrote: "As soon as the Czernobog arrives, we will get moving with everything we have salvaged."

It took Alvin a bit of effort to read this. "Oh?" Alvin grinned, "And 'ow long will it take the—the thing to arrive?" But Drago gestured for Alvin kept silent and wrote back:

"Are you certain Magodon and Norbert will join with us?"

"Yes" Alvin wrote back.

"Will the rest of your ships be ready to sail soon?" Those ships had been en route to Berserker during the night of the prison break, but had been damaged by some dragons.

"Yes" Alvin could only write a few simple words.

"Then have patience and get out there and help!" Drago shouted. He shoved Alvin out the door and slammed it shut. He heard the Outcast leader storm away muttering curses but ignored him. "He says this is taking too long while I've waited years to have my revenge!"

He touched the burns on his face. The bandages had been removed but the marks remained; red, black, and ugly. He thought over his plan again. It was actually his earlier plan taken one step further in a more decisive manner. The King had the dragons. Drago wanted the dragons. The King would come to help if Berk was attacked. So they would attack with overwhelming forces. The King would either be killed or taken prisoner. If killed, Drago would have to search for the Sanctuary unaided, but at leisure. If captured, this time they would drain all the information, and then blood, out of him. Drago just needed an ace in the hole to counter the King's own advantages, and he had it. With the Czernobog and the flocks of dragons that ship would bring him, and the armies he would soon control, he would be unstoppable.

Such a dream made him shout at a guard to tell Adoncia she was to leave as soon as she was done with the prisoner. He could not care less if she wanted rest; he had a world to conquer and revenge to gain.

There will be no second chapter posted later tonight. The next chapter, "Forging Things," will be posted Wednesday the 12th.

I sincerely hope that all of our hearts, prayers, and relief efforts are going out to the Caribbean and the United States East Coast at this time. I'm almost brought to tears trying to think of what else to say about it. There are moments in a person's life where you know you are watching something historical happening and will always remember where you were and what you were doing when it happened. For me, watching the news the night before Hurricane Matthew made landfall was one of those moments.