Chapter Sixteen: Coming Back Around

Kyra sat alone on Raven's Point that evening as the sun set. She'd managed to persuade the Weedsnakes to call off any further attacks for the night, although they were also recovering and fuming at the loss of their one chance to reignite the Gods' War. Kyra knew that she could be happy in the knowledge that the cycle was now broken – how could Hiccup kill her at all if he was the one lying on a hard wooden bed in the Infirmary? But at the same time she knew she could never feel happy about it. It would be ridiculous for anyone for rejoice at something like that. It was Astrid whom her heart reached out for – the poor girl had waited three long years for Hiccup to get back and now she'd just lost him all over again.

Kyra stared out at the sun falling below the horizon, glittering on the unusually calm sea and turning the sky into a vivid pink. Despite everything that had happened, she still couldn't stop thinking of what Ivor had said to her. She couldn't get rid of that feeling that maybe there was more to the Darkwing than people...and dragons...thought. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try – she closed her eyes and began searching for the Darkwing on her telepathic communication mindset. Miraculously, she found it.

"What do you want?" a scornful voice sounded.

"I just want to talk," Kyra replied carefully. "Surely you can give me that after today." Moments later the giant dragon rose from the sea and rested on the cliff facing Kyra. The conversation switched to Dragonese.

"You'd better have a better reason for this than a mere death wish," Ivor snarled, his eye hit by Kyra earlier not as badly damaged as the other, still allowing him to see the eighteen year old.

"Why did you save me?" Kyra asked simply. "Back then – when I was a baby."

"I thought I said it was because I wouldn't allow you to fall into the hands of lesser beings," Ivor hissed. Kyra noted the absence of any word that would suggest the Outcasts were even worse than the Hooligans in Ivor's eyes. Maybe her hunch was correct.

"You mean it was because you cared for me?" she quizzed. Ivor recoiled in surprise. "That's what it was, right?" Kyra pressed. "You didn't save me because you thought the Outcasts were worse than the Hooligan tribe. You did it because you cared."

"Nonsense!" Ivor snapped, turning his large head away. "You are a human...a contaminant in the dragons' world...you have always been weaklings..."

"You never used to think like that, though, did you?" Kyra pointed out. "You were the link between our worlds, a bit like I am now. You used to watch over both humans and dragons. If you always thought we were weak you would have wiped us out millennia ago, even before the Gods' War." Ivor cringed away at the mention of the event. "Ivor – I want to help."

"How can you expect to help me?" Ivor scoffed. Kyra could hear the softened tone of his voice – he sounded almost sad. "I...I cursed you. You are powerless. Even if you weren't, how can you help me?" There was a silence before Kyra answered.

"By being there for you," she replied gently. Ivor turned his majestic head to face her again. "In effect I'm still your sister, Ivor," she continued.

"NO!" Ivor snapped. "You're anything but her! Now thanks to your pathetic younger brother she can never return!"

"But you made sure her spirit lived on!" Kyra protested. "It might not have been what you wanted, but isn't honouring Lohikäärme's memory more important than starting a war to bring her back without knowing whether the humans or dragons will come out surviving?" she added desperately. "You may have destroyed her in a blind rage but you made sure her legacy lived on! It might have been your grief that broke the link between the dragons' world and ours but in saving Lohikäärme's spirit you made a way to fix that link!"

Kyra was using all of her powers of persuasion to get Ivor to see reason. Hopefully she could succeed where Lohikäärme had failed all those centuries ago.

"I destroyed her..." Ivor murmured. "It's my fault it happened." Kyra walked to the edge of the cliff and gently placed a hand on Ivor's scaled neck. He shuddered at her touch but he made no move to attack or retreat.

"She would be proud," Kyra assured. "You might not want to admit it, but...you've watched over all of us. Every single Dragon Shifter there has ever been – you kept an eye on us, didn't you?"

"I let their brothers murder them...just as I murdered my sister...How can you say that I watched over them?"

"They were cursed to share her fate," Kyra remembered sadly. Another memory rang through her mind. "But not me – you knew from the start that Hiccup could never bring himself to kill me. That's why you cursed him to not be able to return to his human self until I was dead," she realised.

"And cursed you to not regain your powers until he had returned to that form," Ivor added sorrowfully. Kyra asked him why. "By removing your powers I would have removed any way for Lohikäärme to return. By having the spirit of the Dragon Shifter return upon your death..." he paused, unable to talk about Kyra with the same hate he'd had before. "...it would have allowed her to come back at her full strength." He remained silent. "There is little I've done for the dragons except cause them misery," he grumbled sadly. "My curses have ruined lives, I know that. And I know there is nought I can do now to change things." Kyra noticed how remorseful Ivor seemed – it was as if the monster he'd been before no longer existed. She suddenly realised something as she gently patted Ivor's neck. A scale came loose in her hand and disappeared into a sand-like substance, drifting away on the wind, and she remembered the last belief written by Brynja the Wise in Myths of the Unknown.

"But your curse is now lifted," she smiled. Ivor's one good eye locked with hers. "I will not die by my brother's hand..." she paused to gulp back her tears. "The fate of the gods is not ours to live." He smiled widened as another scale fell apart in her hand. "You're free."

Ivor growled slightly in amazement as the dark green scales fell away, swirling around him as sand. Kyra covered her eyes to protect them as the High Diving Darkwing began to shrink and fade away. When Kyra looked again, the sea dragon was gone. In its place was a young man in his late twenties, early thirties. He looked a lot like Hiccup – the hair was the same shade of dark auburn brown and his eyes were the same green but there were numerous differences. For a start, the man had a fine beard adorning his face which held wisdom beyond its apparent years; his build was that of a warrior – whereas Hiccup's skinny frame had developed slightly, it was still skinny compared to this man's. He wore robes of green, black and silver with the finest fur lining his cloak. At his side he carried a sword which looked like a larger version of Kyra's dagger – it had a silver blade and golden hilt with dragon carvings decorating it. They looked so real they appeared to be alive.

Kyra smiled – Ivor, the Dragon God of Spirit was released at last from his monstrous form.

"There is little I can do to atone for what I've done to your brother, Valkyra," Ivor noted sadly. "Yet my faith in your kind has been renewed. I only wish I could have realised it..."

"What do you mean?" Kyra frowned. Ivor glanced in the direction of the Infirmary where Hiccup's body lay as still as stone.

"In my fury, I used to think human hearts were weak – too weak to consider keeping alive," he explained. "Hiccup's actions earlier proved otherwise...at a high cost." Kyra didn't bother stopping the tears. "In doing so he prevented a war which could have ended either world...it was wrong of me to consider that gamble." He looked back at Kyra. "You are right – your brother's deeds have broken the blood stained cycle of the Dragon Shifter and freed me...I only regret that it came about like this." Kyra cast her line of sight to the bay.

"Will the Weedsnakes still fight?" she asked. "Now that you're...you." She couldn't help it. To her disappointment, Ivor's expression turned solemn.

"I fear so," he replied. "The Weedsnakes have been my allies for centuries but they are a species of dragon that is bred on a hunger for power. They defied me and my sister more times than I dare to remember in the days of old."

"If that was the case then why did you side with them?"

"I knew they would do anything for power...just as I did," Ivor explained. "At any rate, I have promised them the victory of the dragons in the new Gods' War for so long I doubt they'll give up so quickly."

"You had to make it difficult for us, didn't you?" Kyra muttered. Ivor chuckled in bemusement.

"Just like Lohikäärme..." he smiled despite himself. Kyra turned to face him.

"Ivor...what will you do now?" she asked. Ivor hesitated before answering.

"There are things I must do," he replied. Kyra winced – she'd been hoping for an offer to help. Having a god on their side would have been great for the village right now. "But rest assured that I will return. I won't let them harm you." His shape shifted into that of a Night Fury with emerald-green eyes before he took off into the night. Kyra couldn't help but smile sadly at his last sentence.

"Just like Hiccup..." she muttered. She headed back down to the village where Stoick came over with a look of worry on his face.

"Kyra – where have you been?" he scolded. "I heard you went up to Raven's Point and when I saw that dragon I..."

"Dad, it's okay," Kyra calmed him down, glancing into the skies where Ivor had flown off. Against the blackness of the night even her dragon eye couldn't pick up anything. She could just pray and hope that Ivor kept to his word. "The Darkwing isn't going to bother anyone anymore."

"What happened?" Stoick asked in amazement. Kyra quickly explained who the Darkwing was and what had happened up at Raven's Point. "So that dragon – it was really another one of their gods?"

"Yes," Kyra nodded. "But...he's fine, now. He's come to," she finished a hint of a smile showing on her face. Her attention was caught by a young man walking through the village – she could just about recognise him as Artair. She still felt horrible about the way she'd spoken to him before...even earlier that day they'd avoided making contact with each other.

"Are you still worried about it?" Stoick questioned calmly. Kyra sighed.

"I'm not entirely sure if it's what I want," she huffed, knowing that it sounded selfish. "I treated Artair horribly the other day! What if I'm terrible at being a wife?" she added, spitting on the last word. Stoick placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Sometimes we have to face things that we don't want in life," he explained. "But very often it is taking on the responsibilities we are given that help us make up for our past mistakes," he added gently. "I know you've never liked the idea of being married, Kyra. I respect that – that's why I had to hammer it into Mugdug's head earlier that I wanted your choice to be considered."

"You did?" Kyra blinked.

"I did say I didn't want my daughter to live the rest of her life feeling miserable," Stoick reminded her, his eyes twinkling underneath his absurdly large eyebrows. "Needless to say, Mugdug wasn't all pleased with the idea but I think it got through."

"What happens now about it?" Kyra asked, her eyes drifting towards the Infirmary. "Now that..." she couldn't bring herself to say it. "Now that he's hurt...Because I don't feel comfortable leaving this place in Snotlout's hands, even if I hate chief-ing," she grimaced. Stoick nodded in understanding.

"I'll need to see to that," he noted. He began leading Kyra back towards their house – the moon was now high in the sky and everyone who could still fight needed their rest for tomorrow.

All fell quiet in Berk as torches were extinguished for the night. The only light that still shone from the island was coming from the Infirmary where a seventeen year old Nordic Blonde sat beside the still body of her fiancé. Astrid hadn't left Hiccup since he'd been placed on the bed in the back of the hut. She'd refused to leave even when everyone else had finished saying their goodbyes. Once this was over...if there he couldn't hold on until the end...there would be a Hero's Funeral held for him – a burning ship as his final send-off. Astrid simply couldn't find herself willing to say goodbye – she'd waited for and loved Hiccup for too long to do that.

"Come back...please..." she whispered as she held the now cleaned hand of her fiancé, the gold band still resting on his finger. Hiccup looked so peaceful, as if finally free from all the trials he'd faced during his life – his struggle to be accepted by his own family, his fight to win the approval of the village, his quest to prove himself as a Viking...everything he'd accomplished, yet it had never seemed enough for Hiccup. For him, his fight was continuous. Now, at last, he was at rest. He no longer had to fight – for that, Astrid was mentally kicking herself. She knew she was partially responsible for why Hiccup had had such a hard time fitting in...she would never forgive herself for it.

Astrid looked up when she felt something nudge her other hand. Blinking the tears out of her eyes, she recognised the muzzle of a Night Fury at her side.

"You came to be with him too, huh?" she asked, gently scratching the dragon's nose. The Night Fury rested his front paws on the slab and began licking Hiccup all over. He paid particular attention to Hiccup's chest, where the blood had finally ceased flowing. Kyra had checked him earlier and apparently most of the internal damage had closed thanks to Hiccup's remaining dragon abilities and the wound itself had closed the wound after a while but it had been too little too late. Hiccup had lost so much blood there was little faith in him making it out of this one. Astrid had been watching him but Hiccup's pulse was so faint she could hardly tell it was there any more and his breathing had gotten to a point where it came in soft irregular bursts – he was so weak that he could hardly be clinging to life anymore. Astrid was perhaps the only one who still hoped Hiccup would make it. She patted the Night Fury's flank sadly.

"I don't think any amount of Night Fury saliva's gonna help him now, Toothless. We just have to...to wait," she murmured, sniffing and gulping back tears. The Night Fury looked at her with a look of sympathy filling its green eyes – Astrid had to look away. Those eyes reminded her too much of Hiccup, whose eyes might never open again. "But it's something you've always done, right?" she asked. The Night Fury nodded. Astrid accepted it – besides, Hiccup may have even appreciated a parting gift from his friend, even if it was a load of saliva...well, their friendship had pretty much started over a regurgitated fish.

The night drew on and eventually Astrid fell asleep, her fingers entwined with those of Hiccup's. As she wasn't looking, the Night Fury breathed a small shot of blue fire onto the wound still present on Hiccup's chest before it slunk out of the Infirmary and vanished into the night as Hiccup's chest began to rise and fall steadily.