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Chapter 32

For the Last Time

For several minutes everyone—and I do mean everyone—was too stunned by what had just happened to do anything but stare in shock and astonishment. Only a volcano could have made a larger explosion. The Twins and Hiccup had pulled off a masterpiece of destruction, and the testament to their skill was the huge twisted and tangled wreck of iron that used to be the Czernobog. Meant to be the herald of Drago's new campaign of vengeance, it was now the most unseaworthy piece of scrap metal the world had ever seen.

Once the sound of the explosion died, everything was suddenly absolutely silent, except for the fires still burning. Even those who had been injured, before and during the blast, were too stunned to make a sound. Then a loud cheer went up from the defending side. The dragons roared triumphantly. The fighting began again with renewed determination on one side and increasing despair on the other.

Astrid looked around wildly as she fought, hoping to see Hiccup somewhere. While she sensed the fighting was wearing down, it was still chaos all over the place and she doubted she would see him even if he was ten meters away from him. 'Besides,' she mentally reminded herself as she ducked another sword, 'don't let yourself get distracted; you're not out of this yet.'

Maybe Astrid was not but Drago Bludvist was, as far as he was concerned. The game was up and he knew it. His dragons were taken from him, his prized ship was destroyed and his fools for allies were being slaughtered. He was betrayed by weak fools again. Now he would leave them to their fate. He happened to know that a ship was moored on the other side of the island, left there with a small crew just in case he needed to get away. He turned and began making his way away from the fighting. In the chaos of the battle and its aftermath he imagined nobody noticed. Perhaps from the land nobody did, but there was somebody up in the air that was looking for him.

The sound of the explosion terrified the people in the cave like nothing else had done so far. And for Peer and Ase, neither of them could take it any longer, but ran off while everyone else was still recovering from the surprise. The guards went after them, but the children had a good head start and knew the paths through the woods better then the guards did.

With the destruction of the Czernobog, the allegiance shift of the dragons, and the flight of Drago, the heart went out of what was left of the attackers. Most surrendered without any prompting. The handful of warriors that kept fighting was quickly and easily subdued. For the defenders now came the matter of dealing with prisoners and, more importantly, taking care of the dead and wounded.

Probably no sane person ever liked this part of a battle. It was hard to feel victorious or honorable when standing surrounded by the dead and dying, to be able to hear the wounded scream and plead for help and know there was little that could be done. All the tribes on that island had had vast numbers of warriors, yet only a mere handful of healers were present. There were so many casualties with great gaping wounds that blood was oozing out of unchecked it seemed impossible to decide who to begin with.

Some threw themselves headlong into helping the wounded. Others wandered about the field in a daze, looking around and wondering how so much death and destruction could ever have happened. Those who had to guard prisoners were both lucky and unfortunate. They had something to do, which kept their minds off the casualties, yet that also meant they were standing around on guarding while their friends and family members were dying nearby.

The Dragons helped where they could, not because Toothless gave them any orders, though he did, but because they could all sense it was the right thing to do. Most of them took over guarding prisoners, an easy task for them. Others worked to put out the fires and carry the wounded as best as they could away from burning buildings, lest they should perish in the flames.

Marva had thrown herself off the ship not long before the explosion and by some miracle had managed to swim far enough away to escape the worst of it, though a piece of debris went into her leg. Exhausted and in great pain she dragged herself onto the beach and collapsed on the sand.

It was not fair. Hiccup was supposed to lose. He was a born loser and he was a weakling. How on earth could he possibly destroy a ship like that and mess up Drago's excellent plans? Granted, she did not know much about those plans, but they still were excellent! How could they not be if Drago had thought of them? Speaking of which, she decided she had better get up and find Drago. If nothing else they could escape and make a new plan. Hiccup might have bought a small victory but he would lose next time. The pain in her leg only fueled her anger.

Movement behind her caught her attention. The head of a Scauldron had risen out of the ocean. It was looking at Marva coldly.

"Oh go away." Marva spat. "You dragons have done enough damage already. I said GO AWAY!" and she grabbed a rock and threw it at the dragon. She missed, due to the pain and her anger impacting her aim, but the dragon recoiled. "That's right! You'd better obey when I tell you! Drago's gonna enslave all of you, just wait!" The Scauldron dropped its head underwater but Marva kept shouting. She had too much steam to blow off and she found her leg hurt less when she did. "You and your stupid friend Hiccup are living on borrowed time! You'll see! You'll—"

The head rose from the surface again and sprayed water at Marva. Scauldrons take in seawater and heat it up in their bellies. It could grow hot enough to burn the scales off a Screaming Death; human flesh stood no chance against it. Marva's last moments were spent in sheer agony as she was boiled alive.

Astrid had gone running to her father, her mother right behind her, but it was already too late. All they could do was weep over Olaf Hofferson's body.

Never in all her life had Astrid ever felt so horrible, so upset, and so lost. She just could not believe that her father, the man she had looked up to all her life, was dead. Anger and pain filled up her chest like never before. She wanted to scream, throw her axe into everything in sight, anything to stop the pain she was in, but she knew it would not change a thing. Her mother sobbed as she clung to Olaf's body as if that would somehow bring him back to life. Some might call it undignified but there was never a time when Astrid had cared less about maintaining any dignity or public images. All she saw was that her father was dead, how could society matter at such a time? Why was she even thinking about it while she clung to her father's body? The reminder of what she was doing and why brought on a fresh wave of tears.

She felt something prod her back. It was Stormfly.

"Hey girl," she whispered, "where have you been?"

The Nadder merely bowed her head in grief. Astrid threw her arms around her neck and starting weeping again. The presence of Stormfly suddenly made her wish Hiccup was there. She wanted his arms around her and to hear him tell her in that half irritating nasally voice of his it was going to all right. In a moment of wild fancy she imagined him telling her of some trick he had learned from dragons that could bring back the dead. But she knew that was a lot of nonsense. Still, after what was happening now, she thought she would not mind a little nonsense.

But at last she snapped out of her crying. There was work to be done. Her father would not approve of her standing around while others were dying and needed her help. And if she wanted Hiccup so badly, she would not find him by staying where she was.

"Come on, girl, we've got things to do," she told the Nadder. They rushed over to the first body they saw and began trying to bandage any wounds they could. Greta remained with her husband a little longer before moving off to do the same.

Spitelout lay on the ground, feeling life ebb out of his body. He had no notion of what was going on around him and for the most part he did not care. He was abruptly jolted out of his thoughts by the sensation that someone's hands were gripping his body. He opened his eyes but his vision was cloudy and he could not recognize who was looking down at him. It took a bit of effort to speak but at last he got out the words: "Did we win?"

"Yes sir,"

"My boy…Snotlout…where is he…?"

"I'm sorry, sir, he's injured—not seriously!" For Spitelout had let out a loud wail and cried "Not him, spare my boy, take me Odin but please, spare him!"

"It's just a leg wound, sir, he'll be fine, he just can't walk at the moment. I'll go see if I can carry him—"

"No!" Spitelout grabbed him with all the firmness he had left, "No time—can you hear me?"

"Yes sir, every word!"

It was getting harder for him to talk. "Tell ma son I was always proud of h—him. Tell him, I wanted him to—su—succeed so 'e would be the man I—could neva hope ta be—'ope 'e finds that dragon and keeps 'im,"

"I'll tell him sir, I'll tell him, anything else?"

"Tell 'im—and me brother—I'm so sorree fer everythin'—tell 'em—" He stopped to take a breath but never breathed again. He never felt the other man's grip on him tremble or the tears drop onto his face.

"I'll tell them, sir," Fishlegs whispered hoarsely.

The Razorwhip had been killed in the explosion. Its head had been struck by an iron plate. "It's fortunate," Toothless said to himself, "because if I had known before what it had done I would've killed it myself." He had only just learned from Persephone and Evictus the bare gist of what had happened to the Sanctuary. He could not bring himself to hear the details. "This will kill Hiccup if he's still alive. But he'll have to learn about it sooner or later. Oh Hiccup, where are you?"

Unlike the Hoffersons and plenty of others, Stoick had little time to mourn for anyone. He was dispatching survivors right and left to attend to casualties and prisoners. Thankfully he was not alone in this matter. Bertha had survived unharmed, though her daughter had received a broken arm for her role in the fighting. Gort also had an injured arm, which would probably have to be amputated, and though he tried to make an effort to rally his strength he had grown delirious and was too weak to exercise command.

He had no idea of what the Butchers Bill would be like, though he knew it would be high. There would also be lots of homes to be rebuilt, and prisoners dealt with. Stoick had no interest in mass executions and figured the best thing to do, after making them help rebuild things, they could use the extra muscle, would be to send them back to their own islands after a high ransom had been paid. For the moment they would stay on a section of the beach and be guarded by dragons. He was not too worried about them.

Of the enemy leaders, as far as Stoick and Bertha could learn, Drago and Adoncia had both vanished and nobody had any idea of where they had gone. Dagur was lying face down in the dirt literally crying over spilled milk. One Berkian had been milking a cow when Stoick had sounded the alert that morning. At some point during the fight Dagur had knocked over the abandoned pail of milk and the act had greatly upset him.

"Well, they don't call him 'Dagur the Deranged' for nothing," Stoick mumbled. There had been a time where that sounded funny, but now it just sounded bitter to him, like a joke heard too many times. As for Alvin the Treacherous, he was nursing a slash across the stomach. Stoick wondered mildly if he would be one of the exceptions to his ransom plan.

Unbidden, Ruffnut and Tuffnut came over to him. The excitement and thrill from the explosion they had helped create was still abundant in both of them and they were not yet sensing the horrors of the battlefield like everyone else was.

"Hey Chief! Did you see that explosion? Wasn't that something?"

"Later, you two," Stoick said absentmindedly as he shouted to others "Bring those stretchers and get them off the beach!" A major concern was to get everyone off the beaches before the tide came in and drowned them.

"So where's Hiccup?" Tuffnut asked looking around. The Chicken in his hand clucked loudly.

"How should I know?" Stoick demanded, still not looking at them as he helped place bodies onto stretchers.

"Sir, he was on the boat!" Ruffnut said, "He helped us destroy it!"

Stoick stopped in his tracks. "He was…in that thing?" He pointed to the twisted remains of the Czernobog. "Is—is he still in there?"

"No sir, didn't you see him fly away on that Nightmare?"

"He…flew away?"

"Yeah, they went towards the woods. I don't know why," Tuffnut said, "I mean, I would've expected him to join in the fight,"

"But he's alive?"

"Yeah, last we saw him,"

Stoick felt a huge wave of relief wash over him. His boy was still alive. He wanted to go looking for Hiccup and the rest of his family, but he had no time. He had other duties to attend to first, and hopefully Hiccup, Snotlout, and Spitelout would turn up as he performed them. But he did have to wonder as he worked, where was his brother and what on earth was Hiccup doing?

Of the remaining dragons who had had riders, Persephone had not troubled herself one bit about Marva, but even if she had it would have made no difference. It was unlikely anyone would ever find what remained of her. Midnight and Camicazi had seen each other, but Cami had been indoors with a healer and the room was too crowded with wounded for Midnight to squeeze into. They had to be content with merely making eye contact for the moment.

Gustav had been spotted by Shamrock. Gustav had survived the fight but had gotten a nasty cut on his head. If that sword had gone a bit lower it would have taken his ear off. As Gustav attempted to bind up his wound a Monstrous Nightmare had approached him curiously and, as far as Shamrock could now see, the two seemed to be getting quite attached to each other. The Treejumper decided to let them bond and not bother them. Toothless then ordered him to lend a paw with tearing a house down. Several homes were so badly damaged that they was on the brink of collapsing, so Stoick asked the dragons to just get the dismantling over with.

Hookfang found Snotlout lying in a corner of the village plaza. His shirt was ripped up and the pieces were wrapped around each his legs. Both of them were bloodstained.

"Hookfang!" Snotlout said in a chipper tone, as if he was glad that he had somebody he could show off his injuries to. "Where have ya been?" Hookfang responded by nuzzling him. "Did you miss me? Yeah, I got cut up pretty badly, but I paid them back for it! And I saw the coolest thing ever! Astrid threw a knife into some woman's eye! She looked so hot when she was doing it! Hey, don't go nuzzling me like that, I'm tough, I can bear it! I'd almost say you were going soft! Don't let Dad see you; he wouldn't like me having a sentimental dragon!" He shook his head, "he threw me out again, you know? He didn't like that I was only pretending to pretend to like dragons. But we'll get him to change his mind soon. Hiccup did it with Astrid, it can't be that hard!" He turned around, "And there's Fishlegs coming on top of Meatlug! Come to admire my heroic scars, Fishy?"

Fishlegs cheered up only slightly when Meatlug had found him, and now he had to shatter Snotlout's moment of happiness.

Drago sped through the woods towards his escape ship, cursing everyone and everything else and reassuring himself. All was not lost. He had progressed from these setbacks before, he would do it again. A man was only defeated if he admitted it, and he would never do that. Nobody could ever truly defeat him, Drago Bludvist, the only true Dragon Master in the world. And next time he would not be hindered by a bunch of fools. Next time he would do better. He was not finished yet, he kept reassuring himself. Next time, next time—

He was snapped out of his reassurances when he heard the sound of drawn steel. He stopped in his tracks and felt pure anger in his chest. The Dragon King was standing before him, his flaming sword out and his shield in front of him. A Monstrous Nightmare flew away behind him.

"Going somewhere?"

Drago pulled out his pike. "You've interfered for the last time!"

"Got that right!" The King lunged straight at him.

Sparks flew as his sword struck Drago's pike. The King slid to the side and slashed at Drago's leg. Drago countered with a blow that nearly knocked the King over. He recovered his balance quickly and ducked, else the pike would have cut his head off. Instead he swung his shield like a giant club into Drago's head. Several bloodied teeth flew out onto the ground.

Drago staggered a moment and then swung his pike with a roar. The King dodged it and brought his sword down onto it. Sparks flew into the air again, almost getting into both their eyes.

Drago lunged again and the King moved to more favorable ground, that pike striking right where his foot had just been. The King leapt behind a tree, Drago expected him to come out on the opposite side and moved to strike him. But the King jumped out in the direction he had come and dealt Drago a sharp blow on the back.

"Drago, this is your last chance—and I've been way too reasonable with you! Surrender and reform and I'll spare your life!"

"So noble of you!" Drago spat, "I'll have you know I will never accept your surrender!"

"I won't be offering it!" The King shouted. Drago retorted with even more fury and hammered his pike repeatedly against the King's shield. The King put his hand to his gauntlet and pressed a button, but nothing happened.

Drago grinned, blood dripping from his remaining teeth and lips, "Your tricks won't save you this time, boy!" He swung his pike again. The King ducked and quickly shifted his prosthetic to its ice pick position. He then darted forward and stomped on Drago's foot.

Drago roared with pain and recoiled. He might have been finished off then and there, except the King had to pause to reset his prosthetic. This gave Drago a brief but serviceable chance to recover and stagger forward towards his foe. Instead of trying to fight he shoved the King's weapons out of his way with his pike, grabbed the King by the throat and started squeezing.

Every ounce of his anger went into that grip clenched around the King's neck. He heard the sounds of the King's struggling and found it wonderful.

"DIE ALREADY!"

Instead the King swung his flaming sword into Drago's hair. Drago at once had to let go and began swatting his head. It might have been comical if the King was in the mood for jokes. All he wanted then was to get his breath back. For a moment the two foes did not attack each other while they sorted out their own problems. But that did not last long and Drago soon picked up his pike again and charged. The King countered with a powerful blow that severed Drago's metal arm from his body and sent it flying into a tree.

Toothless looked around wildly. Where on earth had his human gone to? And where was Drago? He was beginning to grow frantic with worry. He sniffed the ground but it was almost impossible to track anyone, the dirt was so beaten up and covered with so many different odors. The air was just as full of odors as well.

"Hiccup where are you?" he cried loudly. Then he heard the sound of Hiccup shouting. He knew that voice anywhere and he sped off in the direction of it. As he listened more intently he picked up the sounds of someone else shouting. It was not hard to guess who the other person making noise was, and he had a horrible feeling that Hiccup had not been shouting for him but because he was in pain or in trouble. Toothless quickly called upon other dragons to follow him. He was not going to let Drago get away this time, if it took every dragon to subdue him.

Astrid spotted Toothless running off into the woods, a large horde of dragons following him. Guessing what they were after, she made to follow them. Then Dagur the Deranged grabbed her arm desperately.

"I've always liked you, you know!"

"Get out of my way!"

"I can make it worth your while if you let me go!"

Astrid kicked him in the stomach and shoved him to the ground. As she did so she roared "If anyone dies because you got in my way, I'll let you go as we fly over a volcano!"

The King had shouted all right, because Drago was waving his pike around like a madman and had landed a sharp blow to the King's leg. Drago tried again, but this time The King blocked it and struck Drago's exposed shoulder stump.

Peer and Ase had been running through the woods towards the noise. They saw the Dragon King and Drago fighting, so they pulled out their knives and charged at Drago's exposed back. The attacks were little more than pinpricks. Drago spun around, screamed so loudly the children instantly recoiled in terror, and then lunged with his pike at them. In desperation the Dragon King slammed his shield into Drago's head.

"You two get out of here!" He shouted at Peer and Ase.

"We want to help!" Ase screamed,

"Then help by not getting yourself—"

Drago jumped and grabbed Peer by the throat and squeezed, crushing his windpipe. Without thinking Ase grabbed Drago's wrist and bit it. Screaming again he released Peer, whom Ase dragged away as quickly as possible. Hiccup, meantime, had taken advantage of the distraction to stab Drago in the side. It was not fatal, Drago's armor was too strong there, but it still hurt like burning coals on bare skin, and he was forced to back off for a minute.

"C'mon Peer, wake up!" Ase urged, but her friend's body stayed limp. Hiccup spared a glance and felt a lump grow in his throat. He had barely even known the boy. But he had no more time to think about it for Drago attacked him again.

Both Drago and the King were bleeding badly now, and were sweating almost as much. Drago landed a blow to the King's arm and sliced it opened. But despite going on the offensive, Drago was tiring. He had been in battle much longer and was not as young as he used to be. Even worse, Ase had retreated beyond his reach and were throwing every rock and stick she could lay her hands on at him, giving him one more thing to watch out for. The King, by contrast, seemed to sense a victory was at hand and, despite his wounds, fought with more energy. He swung his sword again and knocked Drago's pike out of his hand. Drago grabbed a branch and flung it at him, then picked up another. Both were easily dodged and were repaid with another slice at Drago's leg.

Drago shouted and roared but such moves only hurt ears. The King swung again, missed, and hit a tree. Drago dove for his pike and flung it at the King in desperation, missing by a wide margin. The King dealt another blow to Drago's leg and Drago sank onto the ground. The King looked down at him as if daring him to continue the fight. Drago picked himself back up gingerly and threw a rock, mostly out of desperation. He grabbed yet another tree limb, but the King had had enough of this. He feinted with his shield as his sword cut upwards, slashing through Drago's face. Bludvist fell to the ground with a scream and this time he stayed down.

The King stood over his foe, triumphant and panting.

"No! I will not lose to such a pathetic weakling!" Drago shouted as he tried feebly to get up.

"Oh for crying out loud, look around you for once! Where's your strength now, o mighty warlord? All your allies are dead, captured, or deserting you! You saw with your own two eyes today clear proof that my ideas of loyalty are stronger than your ideas of forced servitude! Must this go on?"

"Weak—fools—traitors and cowards—I'll do better—"

The King raised his sword. 'There's nothing left for this man but the end. Just finish this,' he told himself. 'Think of all the harm this man has done, and yet he still refuses to listen to you. Look at him, lying there like an infant, it's pathetic, even if he managed to get up I'd knock him down again, any more fighting would be useless—'

He paused. Useless. Drago was lying on the ground just as he used to after Snotlout had beaten him up. During the days when he had just wanted was someone to help him, to show him a little kindness and compassion.

He shook his head. 'This is not a matter of childhood bullying! This is the worst man within a thousand leagues of here! Think of all the people he's killed today! They would still be alive and well if it weren't for him! Think of that boy Peer! Dead for no reason! Avenge him! Avenge all of them!'

But still he hesitated. Had he not taken it upon himself to stand for the belief that revenge never helped anyone?

'Then save the lives of his future victims!' He urged himself,

But could he stoop to Drago's level? He could hear Ase screaming "kill him!"

This was the dilemma he had always feared. Astrid had always made her decisions by what was honorable. But which was it—to kill a killer, save his future victims, end the bloodshed? He would have no honor if he did so—but surely that was a price he could pay? On the other hand, he could let him live, risking future atrocities and battles from this man. What good would being able to boast that he did the merciful thing and spared a man's life if that act of mercy resulted in further catastrophes? But was there no alternative that could end this and not make him into a killer as well? Was there no other option?

This internal battle only lasted maybe a minute, but it must have seemed an eternity to both of them. Finally the King slowly and deliberately lowered his sword.

"Too weak to take a life?" Drago sneered, though he was secretly relieved.

"Maybe."

"I would not hesitate,"

"Yes, you're very brave at murdering children!" Hiccup shouted. Suddenly he was questioning his resolve to spare Drago for the moment. "You're only alive right now because I'm allowing it—because I'm not quite finished with you yet." He was only delaying Drago's death and perhaps shifting responsibility for it, but he still could not bring himself to kill anyone in such a pitiful condition, even Drago. In any case, there were still some answers he wanted first.

"After all this time you're still so weak." Drago spat, "I'd kill you without a moment's thought or hesitation."

"And that's what makes us different, Drago."

"That and I can make a plan and you can't," Drago tried to laugh but it sounded like a whimper.

The King gave him a very strange look. "You may think that, but my plan has worked far better than yours has."

"Oh? Well then, just what do you plan to do with me?"

"That will be for the Chiefs to decide. Until then you're my prisoner. And unlike you, I know how to keep a man locked up."

The King went forward carefully and pulled Drago to his feet. Drago suddenly pulled out a knife and struck Hiccup's shoulder. He had been expecting this. The blade snapped as it hit the armor and did him no harm at all, but the sudden force of the attack made Hiccup's leg buckle and he fell backwards a little. Drago, however, got no further, for a large black shape barreled into him with a loud shriek.

"THAT DOES IT!" Toothless roared, "YOU'VE ATTACKED MY HUMAN FOR THE LAST TIME!"

"Toothless, wait a minute!"

"NOT THIS TIME, HICCUP!" He swung his tail and sent Drago flying into a tree. "I'LL SHOW YOU STRENGTH, YOU PIECE OF AGING LIZARD DUNG!" He hit Drago again and again with his claws. Drago tried frantically to crawl away but he had no hope of outrunning Toothless. The enraged Night Fury slashed his claws through Drago's back and tore his skin to shreds. "THIS IS FOR TORTURING HICCUP!" He kicked Drago in the chest, "THIS IS FOR GRIMM!" He bit Drago in the shoulder. Drago tried to reach for Toothless's weak spot but the Dragon realized it and spat plasma into his face. Drago screamed as the skin around his eyes burned. "THIS IS FOR THE SANCTUARY! HICCUP MAY BE TOO MORAL FOR HIS OWN GOOD SOMETIMES BUT THAT'S WHY I'M HERE!" He opened his mouth, grabbed Drago by the torso, and began shaking him like a dog shaking a doll.

Astrid had arrived by that point and rushed over to Hiccup, who had fallen onto his knees. "Hiccup! Thank the Gods, where have you been? Where are you hurt? Are you alright? Talk to me, please—Ase, what in the name of Thor are you doing—what's happened to Peer?"

Ase just stared, so terrified by what she was watching she could not look away. Astrid turned and saw the Night Fury with Drago. And now she understood what Hiccup had meant when he had described the day Toothless had rescued him from that cell in Spain. There was no cute winged lizard with puppy dog eyes before them. It was a raving monster truly worthy to be called the offspring of Death. She had never seen a dragon so terrifying in all her life.

For Drago this attack was even more terrifying. He was defenseless, in pain without let up, and desperate. He wanted to get away, he wanted help, he wanted it to stop, and he tried to beg for mercy but could not say anything. Every attempt he made to fight of the insane monster was repulsed easily. He had not felt this scared and helpless in decades.

Then the ferocious grip suddenly and unexpectedly lessened. For an instant relief and hope surged through Drago. Then he realized the Dragon had not decided to be merciful. The Dragon had merely stopped to allow some other Dragons to join him. Each one grabbed a limb in their jaws, while the Night Fury moved over and put Drago's head into his mouth. Hiccup and Astrid suddenly realized what was about to happen and grabbed Ase, made her look away, and covered her ears. But they could not block out the screaming.

"PULL!" one dragon shouted.

Drago could feel his body being literally pulled apart. He could feel the black Dragon's teeth slowly sinking into his skull. He felt a Timberjack ran a claw down his chest, splitting the ribs and intestines opened. Pain and terror filled every fiber of his being. He screamed one last time and prayed as he had never prayed before that it would be over quickly.

But the Dragons refused to grant him the mercy of a quick death.

Author's Note:

There is only one chapter left in this story. It will be posted on November 20th. Now, before the next chapter is posted, are there any plot points or questions that I have not yet resolved or explained? If so, please let me know in the reviews and I will see about settling them in the next chapter.

Thanks for sticking with me, everyone! We're almost finished—with this part anyway!