Chapter 15

The Kill Ring

It took three years, but Cotton is BACK! Let's get this done once and for all!

Gobber couldn't have been happier on a day like today. The sky was perfectly clear, nary a cloud as far as the eye could see. The entire population of Berk was in high spirits, their booming cheers echoing over the peaks as they crowded around the training arena with fists raised in a cacophony of excitement. And the reason they were all here was truly deserving of such festivity.

Hiccup Haddock, Stoick's lad, his wee apprentice, had won the honor of killing the Teostra! What a gods-blessed miracle! Gobber felt like singing his favorite tune as he and Stoick walked up the carved steps toward the platform at the front of the crowd. He soaked in the shouts and whoops of the gathered Berkians, swelling with pleasure and pride at the thought of what awaited them on this historic day.

"Impressive turnout, eh?" He turned to Stoick, grinning from ear to ear as he swept his hook out at the throngs of chanting Vikings. "Couldn't be better! Ev'ryone's lookin' forward ta seein' what yer boy can really do."

"Aye, Gobber," was the Chief's answer. It was short, simple, and strangely empty.

Gobber stopped, his smile faltering. If he was this excited and proud, then surely Stoick should've been even more so. But no – he loomed like a solitary mountain of gloom amidst the celebratory atmosphere, staring straight ahead with dark eyes and a furrowed brow. Gobber could tell his friend's mind was elsewhere entirely, and privately, it worried him.

"Eh… Stoick?" he asked. "What's got ye lookin' so grim?"

The Chief turned his gaze on him, a sharp and commanding look that didn't quite hide the undercurrent of worry. "Tell me again what you said the Siren informed you of," he ordered. "You're absolutely sure it's real?"

That cleared it up a little. Gobber frowned at where Stoick's head was at – he didn't want to encourage the simmering worry about the welfare of his island at a momentous time like this. But he couldn't exactly refuse a direct command from Stoick the Vast, so with some reluctance he scratched his chin and reiterated what he'd spoken about the other night.

"Couldn't be realer, Chief," he confirmed. "Batwings came ta me tellin' tales of a sick Nadder in the woods, I went an' checked the body meself. The lad was convinced it was eel pox, an' I'm inclined ta agree. Nastiest case I've ever seen, though."

"Hmm…" was all Stoick said in response. His eyes narrowed as he retreated into darker thoughts, no doubt brooding over what the news implied.

Gobber would never say it aloud, but he couldn't deny it – hearing Batwings' account of the Nadder's behavior and then examining the corpse it left behind had left him shivering, chilled by the thought of what might be stirring deep in the woods. An eel pox outbreak at the onset of winter was bad enough, but if this was something different… and worse than normal… then he shuddered to think of what would happen if it spread to the village. Stoick was right to worry, he knew. But not now – not when this was supposed to be an occasion of great joy, for both the village and him as a father.

And so, when he next spoke, his tone was soothing and his words a gentle chastisement to bring the Chief back to the present. "Stoick, remember, ya got an initiation ceremony ta kick off. Jus' put it oot o' yer mind fer now an' focus on what's in front o' ye. It ain't every day yer boy is accepted into the tribe!"

At that final, encouraging statement, Stoick's brow relaxed, his eyes cleared, and he smiled through his beard. "You're right, Gobber," he relented at last, to Gobber's great relief. "Whatever's happening to the island… it can wait. Right now, the people are what's most important. And Hiccup… gods, I never thought I would see the day!"

That was what Gobber wanted to see. Stoick was beaming brightly at the reminder of his beloved son's achievement, like a dream come true. With a new spring in his step, the Chief marched ahead to the top of the platform, his appearance prompting a great cheer from the waiting audience. Gobber remained on the sidelines, watching his friend step into the light and greet his people with arms stretched in welcome.

"Well, I can show my face in public again!" Stoick announced, a hearty guffaw emerging from his belly. The villagers echoed his laughter before gradually falling into excited silence, a hush falling upon the crowd as they awaited their Chief's next words. The air was charged, practically crackling, with anticipation.

It was into this silence that Stoick spoke next, his booming voice carrying easily across the arena to all those that listened with bated breath below. "If someone had told me that, within a few short weeks, Hiccup would go from being… well, Hiccup… to placing first in monster training?!" he exclaimed, a note of incredulous laughter making his voice ring out all the louder. "I would have tied him to a mast and shipped him off for fear he'd gone mad!"

The crowd roared with mirth and renewed chanting, stirred into a frenzy by their Chief's confession of what they'd all likewise felt at the news. Stoick let them vent their renewed excitement for a few seconds, then raised his hand for quiet. The cheers died down, and barely contained anticipation once again set the atmosphere a-buzzing.

"But… here we are," Stoick said. He paused, as if he needed a moment to rein in his emotions. "And no-one is more surprised, or more proud, than I am…"

"Today, my boy becomes a Viking. Today, he becomes ONE OF US!"

The cheer was so loud that the arena seemed to shudder. Standing in the shadows in front of the gate, Hiccup barely felt the vibrations. He was numb; numb with guilt, and sadness, and terror. He knew what he had to do – had known since last night – and the thought of it made him want to crawl under his bed and never come out. His father was out there, speaking of him with the weight of a father's pride and love in his voice, and the shame was almost unbearable. He didn't deserve any of that praise… all of it was based on a misunderstanding, a lie.

The crowd's roar was deafening, and Hiccup staggered to lean against the wall, clutching his helmet to his chest. The anticipation and dread, knowing he had to go out and face them all, was crushing him. Every one of them was crying out for bloodshed, fully expecting him to stride in like a brave Viking warrior and plunge his weapon through the Teostra's heart. How would they respond when he did just the opposite?

How would Stoick respond?

Suddenly, Hiccup felt sick to his stomach and pressed his hand firmly against the stone, his knees weak with fear. Taking deep breaths, he managed to stay standing, pushing away from the wall and standing back up with a final, calming exhale. He had to be ready for this. He had to…

"Hey."

The voice from behind made Hiccup flinch, and he turned around to see Astrid – he blushed, the memory of her kiss still fresh – and Batwings walking toward him. Both were stiff with nerves, their faces pulled into serious frowns. Hiccup saw the concern shining from their eyes and trembled with emotion. It was embarrassing that they'd seen him almost cracking under the pressure… but at the same time, their arrival made his heart swell with a relieving sense of joy.

"O-Oh, hey," he responded, awkwardly. He glanced at Astrid, then at Batwings, and realized that they'd never formally met. Hastily, he stammered out an explanation; "Uh, Batwings, so Astrid is up to speed on… um, you know. Everything. Basically, last night, w-we, uh…"

He trailed off, struggling to find the words that could encapsulate yesterday's events, but he paused upon feeling a clawed hand grasp his shoulder. He looked up to see Batwings' handsome face smiling, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"She told me about your flight on Sightless," the Siren nodded to him, and his forced smile faded entirely, replaced by a grim, searching look. "You doing okay?"

Hiccup chuckled – a high-pitched, nervous sound. "Y-Yeah, sure," he said with instinctive sarcasm. "Just going to march into an arena with an angry elder dragon while the whole village watches. Y-Yep, feeling terrific."

A flash of annoyance crossed Batwings' face, but only briefly, his irritation soon swallowed back up by concern. He looked past Hiccup toward the empty arena, and Hiccup turned around to follow his gaze. A shiver went down his spine at the sight of the largest cage, the immense double doors already shuddering as if the monster behind it was already raring for a fight.

"Be careful with that thing," Batwings murmured.

But Hiccup's eyes were traveling upwards, past the cage and toward the stone throne that sat directly above, knowing all too well who it was for. Sure enough, he spotted the telltale beard and bearskin cloak of the man sitting on it, and suddenly he was choking on a lump in his throat.

"It's not the Teostra I'm worried about…" he confessed, lowering his voice to a rasping whisper.

His own father was out there – his father, who up until recently thought he was the biggest disappointment in Berk history, who now had such high expectations of him that it boggled his mind. Stoick was expecting him to charge into battle, to put on a thrilling show, to demonstrate unwavering courage in the face of death and emerge victorious. Hiccup had known Stoick his entire life, and the terrifying reality was that he had no idea how he would react.

In the end… it would come down to what Stoick valued more. On the one hand, his hatred of monsters borne from centuries of war and loss. On the other, his ultimate desire for peace on Berk. If Hiccup showed him the way to achieve that peace, would he take it?

"So… what are you going to do?" Astrid spoke up for the first time, drawing Hiccup away from the arena and back to her. The way her sapphire eyes glittered with worry made his heart skip a beat. For a moment, he was enchanted – Astrid cares about me. Astrid does.

The moment of revelry passed and he shook himself back to the present. He looked at her forlorn expression and let out a heavy sigh. "… Put an end to this," he told her. "I have to try."

His reply was vague, but Astrid and Batwings grew still, understanding immediately what it was he meant to do. They each gave him a silent nod, their eyes wide with nervousness.

Batwings stepped forward with a tentative question. "Hiccup… if you're serious… would it help if I went and got the Lunastra? I'm just thinking, well, if they see it can be done…"

"No. I think it'll just scare people," Hiccup replied. He smiled, grateful for his friend's willingness to help. "Just… let me show them.

"Astrid," he spoke to her next, ignoring the flutter in his chest. "If something… goes wrong… make sure nobody finds Sightless."

She nodded once, the gesture firm and resolute. "I will," she answered. "Just… promise me it won't go wrong."

That's right – he had supporters now. He'd never imagined he would, not until the day Batwings had arrived on their shores with Snaketail and Arachne. But here they were now, two of his peers offering him their support simply because they cared, sharing in his belief that taming monsters was a good idea and that he could spread it to others. Just looking at them standing before him caused a smidgen of hope to blossom inside him, its warmth bringing with it a tiny bit of confidence.

He opened his mouth to speak, to assure Astrid that he'd be fine –

Then familiar footsteps sounded behind him, and he whirled to find Gobber entering the tunnel. The mote of confidence promptly died, and his blood ran cold.

"It's time, Hiccup!" the blacksmith winked cheerily. "Knock 'em dead."

Hiccup clutched with white fingers at his helmet, his clammy hands slipping slightly on the metal. He took deep, steadying breaths to calm himself, lifting the helmet slowly up before letting it rest atop his head. Straight ahead, the killing ring awaited him. Behind, Gobber and his friends urged him forward with encouraging faces.

He turned away from them one last time, offering up a silent prayer. Gods, I know you hate me, but please let this go smoothly.

Light fell upon Hiccup as he took his first steps into the arena, and the roar of the crowd buffeted him on all sides. He walked slowly and stiffly, his legs feeling as though they were bogged down by mud. Vaguely, he registered the sound of the gate sliding closed, sealing his fate, even as the crowd grew louder, whipping itself into a wild delirium.

"Hiccup! Hiccup! Hiccup! Hiccup!"

It sounded like they were goading him toward his own pyre.

Forcing himself not to think about it, he marched stonily towards the weapon rack waiting for him on the right. His fingers were numb as he pulled a shield from the rack, followed by the first weapon that caught his eye – a simple carving knife. He wasn't comforted by the rough leather hilt in his grasp, nor by the great hush that fell over the population of Berk. To them, he was all set.

It was time to meet his opponent.

"I'm ready," he stated, loud and clear enough for everyone to hear. He tried not to think about how it sounded like he'd just sealed his fate.

Creeeeeaaaaaakkk…

The sturdy log that held the double doors closed started to lift, triggered by an unseen mechanism. The staccato groan of wood was so ominous that Hiccup's stomach squirmed, as though his body knew on instinct that it may as well have been his funeral dirge. Inch by inch, the log rose higher, until he saw with a thrill the lock come fully undone. For a second, there was no sign of activity, the pen utterly silent…

The doors slammed open, the elder dragon inside bursting out with a blistering yowl. With its scarlet mane, twisting horns, and jutting fangs, the lion-like Teostra stood in a cloud of explosive orange dust. It spread its wings and leapt into the air, demonstrating its power and ferocity as it circled below the chain-link mesh. Then, in a flash, it swooped at the crowd with a jet of blinding flame roaring from its jaws. The Berkians scrambled to make way, parting enough for the flame to hiss past them and into open air.

Hiccup stood there, intimidated by the ferocious display, and froze when the Teostra turned to him. Finally noticing the tiny Viking wannabe in its presence, it settled down and dropped to the ground, folding its wings and lifting its head like an arrogant king. Slowly, it began to stalk forward, looming higher and higher above Hiccup's head with every step.

It was just him, Hiccup the Useless and his carving knife, alone against a monster that embodied fire itself. For a second, it was almost funny – They really expect a freaking teenager to fight an elder dragon and win?!

"Go on, Hiccup!" a solitary voice blurted from the crowd. "Give it to 'im!"

The Teostra lowered its head, crouching low to the ground. It was in stalking mode now, ready to pounce. A quiet gasp went up amongst the excited Berkians, holding their breaths as they waited for the fight to begin.

But as Hiccup stood up straighter and steeled himself, a fight was the last thing on his mind.

Clink. He relaxed his grip, allowing his tiny knife to slip from his hand and clatter to the floor like so much trash. His shield was the next to go, a deeper clank sounding across the dead-silent arena. The Teostra's gaze briefly flicked to each object before refocusing on him, eyes narrowing in suspicion as it continued to creep closer. Shakily, Hiccup raised his hands before him as he'd done with Sightless, fighting down the instinct that screamed at him to turn and run.

I can do this, he reminded himself. Everything we know about them is wrong.

"Shh… shh… it's okay," he murmured, keeping his voice low and soothing so as not to agitate the elder dragon. It kept coming, never dropping its stealthy pace, and Hiccup continued to back away, maintaining his distance. It was important to remain submissive and not stand his ground, or else the Teostra would take it as a challenge. No… let it come. Just let it come to you…

There were murmurs in the crowd now, but Hiccup barely heard. His full attention was on the Teostra, his ears tuned to the sound of its growls and his eyes fixated on its snarling face. Its eyes were harsh, startling blue gems against the angry red of its mane; they had him pinned, warning him not to make any sudden moves.

It was still suspicious, Hiccup knew. For all it knew, he was any other Viking trying to lure it in close. But he wasn't done. Dropping his weapon and shield had just been the start – in order to earn a lick of its trust, there was one last thing he needed to do.

Ever so slowly, he lifted his outstretched hands toward his head, the Teostra following the movement closely. The metal of his helmet felt cold under his palms when he reached it, and without breaking eye contact with the monster, he removed it completely. For a moment, he held on, a last-second hesitation giving him pause…

…then he set his mouth in a determined line and cast it aside. "I'm not one of them."

CLUNK.

The sound seemed to rattle around the entire arena. Berkians gasped audibly, and the murmurs rose in volume and tone. Even without looking, Hiccup was hyper-aware of his father's eyes on him, but he refused to give. Instead, his heart lifted when he saw the Teostra's harsh gaze start to soften, taking on a considering, curious glint. It continued to advance, but something about its posture seemed to relax.

Hiccup's confidence grew. It was working. He was winning it over.

"Stop the fight!" Stoick ordered from beyond the ring's confines.

"No!" Hiccup snapped back, shocking even himself by how assertive he sounded. "I need you all to see this!"

He extended his hand again to the Teostra, never halting his backwards pace, never looking away. He was transfixed – up close, the Emperor of Flame was an incredible creature, its crimson mane soft-looking and magnificent and its tufted tail strong and elegant as it swished back and forth. Its wings began to fold and its stare became gentle as it studied him, all pretense of hostility gone. It was fascinated now, nudging closer and snuffling at his fingers, and Hiccup let it, finally stopping his retreat to stand before the Teostra in peace.

It was time for the final step. He lowered his head, stretching his hand out further in a wordless bid for trust.

He was going to show them.

"They aren't what we think they are."

This was the way to peace.

"We don't have to kill them."

For a moment, nothing happened, and everything was still. Hiccup's heart was thrumming with excitement as he felt the Teostra draw even closer, its heat washing over him and its breath tickling his fingers. A backwards glance at the gate showed him that Astrid and Batwings were watching. All of them – Gobber, Gothi, Mulch, Bucket, Mildew, his fellow teens – were paralyzed with shock, his final statement holding them in rapture like nothing they'd ever heard.

All eyes were on him, and Midgard itself seemed to be holding its breath.

It didn't last.

"I said STOP THE FIGHT!" Stoick the Vast roared in rage, and slammed his weapon against the ring's guardrails with all his might.

A terrible, deafening explosion of sound blasted Hiccup's ears and rang throughout the arena, instantly killing Hiccup's hopes. The startled Teostra reared up with flaring wings and a burning mane, shrieking with fear and fury, and he immediately knew he'd failed. A spike of adrenalin shot through him, spurring him into action.

He was moving before the fire blast blew past him, and he screamed like he'd never screamed before.

The faint notes of a distant sound wafted on the breeze that stirred the forest.

Deep in the safety of their sanctuary, two monsters lifted their heads.

It had only taken an instant for everything to go wrong. One moment, Astrid had been watching with awe and disbelief as Hiccup tamed a monster before her very eyes, the entire village just as spellbound as she was. The next, it was as if Ragnarok had arrived – crowds yelling, a monster rampaging, fires scorching the air.

And in the middle of it all, a very scrawny, brilliant Viking's terrified screams.

"Hiccup!" Astrid shouted, throwing herself against the gate in desperation. Before her horrified eyes, Hiccup darted past, slipping and scrambling over the stone floor, with the Teostra in relentless pursuit. Another stream of flames roared past the gate, forcing her to pull away from the gate, clutching her hands to her chest and breathing hard with barely contained panic.

Batwings slammed into the gate, the Siren having gone full dragon and clamping his teeth around the metal bars. He pulled with all his might, to no avail – but Astrid started, an epiphany bursting out of the terror that held her mind prisoner. She ran forward again, snatching her Dual Blades up off the ground, and stabbed them into the narrow slit between the gate and the floor. Batwings joined her, grabbing a stray Longsword, and together, they pushed with everything they had.

With the proper application of leverage, the gate lifted, metal grinding over stone. All too soon, it stopped, only a slight gap resulting from their efforts. But it was enough. Astrid dove for the gap, the ground scraping roughly along her back as she pushed herself through.

Just like that, she was in the middle of the chaos. The only thought in her brain being save Hiccup's life, her expertly trained eyes landed on the crushed weapon rack, blades and shields scattered in the wake of the Teostra's rampage. Without hesitation, she sprang for it, her slender hands seizing the leatherbound handle of an Iron Hammer. She didn't miss a single beat: she lifted the slab of metal, found her target – Hiccup sprinted across the other end of the arena, a shield held protectively over his head as he jinked to avoid a lunge from the Teostra – and took her shot.

She spun once, twice, building up momentum, and on the third spin, she let fly. The hefty weapon soared from her hands and crashed into the Teostra's head, her aim proving true. It hit the wall with a yowl, then got to its feet with surprising speed. In the split second it took for its enraged glare to land squarely on her, Astrid felt cold fear seize her bones.

Then it lunged for her, and she couldn't get out of the way fast enough. All her bravado vanished in an instant and her instincts turned from fight to flight, knowing deep in her gut that she would stand no chance in battle against a monster this powerful. She ducked and twisted, scrambling to keep purchase on the stone as the pounding footfalls behind her drummed fear into her heart. Her ears were filled with the sound of her own throbbing pulse, her wide eyes never straying from her escape route, the only thought in her mind being to run and never stop. If she tripped, or slowed down even a little, the Teostra would catch her and death would surely follow –

Suddenly, over the blood rushing in her ears, a voice bellowed to her, yanking her head in the direction of the gate. Somehow, she had enough breath for a gasp – the way was clear, Stoick standing at the exit and beckoning urgently. Without a second thought, she bolted for the gate, turning so sharply that her boots slid on the ground. The Teostra's scream blasted through her head and spurred her into doubling her sprint. Safety was just ten paces away… now eight… now three…!

Then she was clear, the Chief catching her as she stumbled and shunting her toward the wall, which she clutched at for support for all of a second as her legs threatened to give out. She composed herself and ran to the Chief's side, anxiety turning her clenched knuckles white as she saw Hiccup struggling out there alone, his legs and arms flailing pathetically in a desperate bid to keep up.

The Teostra lunged for him, its wings beating out a wave of orange powder, and Astrid felt her heart stop.

She hadn't even noticed that Batwings was missing until his dragon form smashed into the Teostra with a furious cry, throwing the elder dragon off balance. While it flailed and snarled, the Siren looped his coils around its neck and chest and hung on tight, jaws clamping down on its horn as if trying to steer it away. Flapping its wings like a booming thunderstorm, the Teostra surrounded itself with powder and snapped its fangs with a visible spark, immediately putting an end to Batwings' defiance. The explosion carried him into the air and flung him against the wall, where he reverted to his human form and lay there, as still as the grave.

But now, Hiccup had a chance, and he made a break for it. Stoick and Astrid both shouted his name, both opened their arms to catch him.

Fire roared from the Teostra's mouth, missing Hiccup by inches, but instead igniting the gate's wooden support. Astrid stumbled back, the heat striking her like a fist, and through the burst of light she witnessed Hiccup thrown aside by the force of the blast. NO! she wanted to shout as he instinctively ran the opposite way, but it was too late. The Teostra changed direction and pounced, and this time it hit its mark, its front paws slamming into his chest.

Astrid might have screamed, but she didn't hear. All she heard was Hiccup's shout of pain as he was knocked to the ground, the hiss of the Teostra readying its fire, and the pounding in her ears as she grabbed her Dual Blades and charged.

She'd only taken two steps when she heard something else – something that filled her simultaneously with joy and dread.

CHAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!

Pinned helplessly under the Teostra's claws, his death only moments away, Hiccup was so hopped up on adrenalin and terror that he didn't hear the familiar screech, nor the ensuing explosion. All he knew was that he was suddenly blind and his heaving lungs filled with dust. The weight was abruptly pulled off his chest, the Teostra's claws no longer stabbing him through the fabric of his shirt. Coughing profusely from the rough particles in his throat, Hiccup forced his aching body into a sitting position, squinting through the dust and his own pain to try and figure out what was going on.

The entire arena was a haze of grey and black, familiar wisps of dark fog swirling in the obscuring haze. Elsewhere in the cloud, he heard the sounds of a monster fight – thunderous wingbeats, leathery tails slamming, two different voices howling and shrieking with identical tones of violence. He whipped his head back and forth, frantic for any sign as to what was happening, and through a slight gap in the cloud above him, he discovered a spot where the arena guardrails had been ripped through.

Something's fighting the Teostra right now… something that tore through the arena from outside… Hiccup's eyes widened in dismay, regardless of the irritating dust. No, it can't be…!

His vision began to clear, and brawling, writhing silhouettes appeared to him through the settling dust. The Teostra emerged from the cloud, bucking and twisting like a monster gone mad while its wings churned up spiraling vortices of explosive powder, and clinging to its back was… Sightless. The Gore Magala was hunched up there like a colossal black insect, standing atop its opponent while his huge wingarms grabbed and clawed at its neck and face. Hiccup watched, horrified, as the Teostra gnashed its fangs and caused explosions to bloom around the arena, upwellings of fire rising to lick at Sightless' body. But Sightless was unmoved, grabbing hold of the Teostra's horns and plunging his head down to snap at its neck – the Teostra even reacted to his bites by throwing itself onto its back to try and crush him, but that only incensed Sightless further, and he kicked the Teostra right off to send it rolling across the floor.

When Sightless got up and planted all six limbs on the ground with an enraged screech, Hiccup couldn't do anything but gawk at him, simultaneously horrified and fascinated. Sightless looked different – and angrier – than he'd ever seen him, his brow ridges turned upwards into glowing purple horns, while the same purple light pulsed along the underside of his rippling cloak. Black mist swirled freely around him, and Hiccup immediately knew that the watching villagers would have no doubts as to what kind of monster they were looking at.

"S-Sightless…!" he tried to say, to warn his friend of what was coming.

But Sightless wasn't listening, lunging forward to keep himself between Hiccup and the Teostra. The Emperor of Flame was still infuriated, swiping and darting in an attempt at attack, but Sightless blocked it at every turn. His wingarms smashed the ground and his claws whistled as they cut the air in retaliatory slashes, and when the Teostra opened its mouth to try its flame, Sightless was faster. His jaws stretched open, a fizzing ball of mist gathering between his teeth, and with a white spark it was launched into the Teostra's exposed chest. An explosion rocked the kill ring and black mist bloomed upwards to surround the Teostra – it fell out of the cloud, dazed and disoriented, its mindless rage finally leaving it.

CHAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! Sightless screamed, a chilling final warning.

At first, the Teostra looked as though it might lash out, but a roar from above and the startled yells of Viking spectators drew its attention elsewhere. Hiccup spun around in shock – it was the Lunastra, hovering in the sky just above the ring. The Teostra reacted with a roar of its own, and with a buffeting gust of wind it was airborne, flying effortlessly through the hole in the ceiling to join its partner. Without hesitation, both Teostra and Lunastra fled, vanishing over the cliffs.

That's why she was here, he realized. She stayed on Berk because the Teostra was captured.

He dismissed the curious thought with a shake of his head, fear returning to seize his heart. With the Teostra gone and the immediate danger passed, the Vikings of Berk would focus on the only other monster in their midst – Sightless. They had maybe a couple of seconds to escape.

"Okay, Sightless!" Hiccup told him, rushing to push his muzzle toward the hole. "Go! You've gotta get out of here…!"

Battle cries began to ring out, telling him that their time was up. Vikings began to jump over the guardrails with their weapons in hand, landing in the arena by the dozen. They were surrounded, and Sightless gave a hostile hiss – a troubling sign that escape wasn't on the monster's mind.

"Go! Sightless, go!" Hiccup insisted, only to freeze when a familiar shout drowned out all the rest. He whirled toward the exit, terror already shooting through him at what he expected to see – Stoick was charging forward, Switch Axe in hand, his tiny eyes filled with singleminded ire at the only thing he was willing to see.

A dangerous monster, the most notoriously deadly one of all, looming threateningly between him and Hiccup.

Sightless turned, sensing Stoick's approach, and Hiccup reached his breaking point. "No, Dad! He won't hurt you!"

Neither side paid him any heed. Sightless screamed, bounding toward the charging Viking with a flex of his wingarms. Other Vikings ran at him with weapons held high, but the Gore Magala sensed them coming, too – Spitelout was swatted aside by a tail swipe, and a whole group of warriors was sent sprawling by a swing of Sightless' muscular wingarm. Not a single attempted attack slowed Sightless down, and before Hiccup knew it, his best friend and father had collided.

"Sightless, stop!" Stoick swung his Switch Axe, and Sightless ducked under it, tackling Stoick to the ground.

They're going to kill each other…!

"No!" Stoick fell, his weapon flying out of his grasp. Undeterred, he swung his fists upward, only for Sightless to slam his claws down, rendering Stoick defenseless.

It wasn't supposed to end like this…!

Sightless reared his head back, miasma hissing at the back of his throat – the killing blow.

I can't lose either one of them!

Hiccup snapped.

"NOOOOO!"

That, Sightless noticed. He closed his jaws, lowering his head and relaxing his posture. The purple glow died down and his horns retracted, and he turned to regard Hiccup with his head tilted in a way that was undeniably apologetic. Sightless cooed softly, asking for forgiveness, assuring him that he wasn't mad anymore. That everything would be okay now.

It was just the two of them again.

Time snapped back into focus with startling swiftness. Before Hiccup could tell what was going on, two Vikings had tackled Sightless, prompting a snarling scream as he found himself under attack yet again. As Hiccup watched, helpless and horrified, the men locked their arms around Sightless' neck and jaws and hauled him to the floor, using their combined weight to pin him. Sightless bucked, lashing out with all his limbs, but more Vikings were coming with every second. In only a moment, they'd wrestled him into submission – underneath a pile of Berkian men and woman, Sightless' rudimentary jostling was fruitless.

"No!" Hiccup shouted again, frantically lunging out with an outstretched hand. Something held him back, something gentle yet firm – Astrid was there, restraining him. He wanted so badly to rush in there, to pull and tug at the Vikings smothering his friend, but as soon as he felt her arms around him, all will to fight simply evaporated. He already knew there was no hope of saving Sightless now.

He pulled back, Astrid letting him go with wide, concerned eyes fixated on him, but he barely even noticed her. Rather, his gaze wandered over the arena, his stomach sinking as he took in the results of the disaster: an empty monster cage, scattered weapons and splinters of wood, the arena gate burnt charcoal-black, and an unconscious Batwings sprawled on the floor.

And, all around him, groups of Vikings muttering to each other in outraged tones. The only one who didn't speak was Stoick himself, and his silent fury scared Hiccup the most.

Out of all the screw-ups that Hiccup had made in his fifteen years on Berk, this catastrophe was without a doubt the most catastrophic of them all.

AN:

Apologies for taking so long to continue this. And on a cliffhanger as big as the final exam scene, too! To make it up to you all, I tried as hard as I could to emphasize the turmoil of emotions going on here, to make you really feel what Hiccup was going through before and during the battle.

Of course, the whole reason the Lunastra appeared on Berk in the first place was because her male counterpart had been captured in a raid, and she was sticking around to try and find him! I'm not quite sure what King and Queen's dynamic is – they could be mates or they could be siblings. I haven't come to a conclusion there.

The heartbreak continues in the next chapter! I know I don't deserve this for leaving you for three years, but reviews are appreciated! Thank you for continuing to read!

Next time: Ready the Ships