Chapter Two: One Step Ahead of Disaster
Toothless's natural reaction to anything going boom within Hiccup's proximity was to act as a living shield, since his scaly fireproof skin made him damage resistant. This instinctive act saved Hiccup and Astrid from the flaming debris that pelted the rest of the village, though the concussive force of the explosion knocked everyone within twenty feet of the blast off their feet.
Nestor fell away from skele-bull and scrambled to his feet, his task unfinished. Hiccup and Astrid had to push Toothless off them before they could stand up, so protective Toothless had become. Even after they cleared the dragon's bulk, Toothless stood between them and the burning house, his face as grim as a dragon could get.
Hiccup thought he understood his dragon friend's reaction, now that he could see the remains of the house. Not that it resembled a house so much as four ignited walls of burning wood and straw. Normally such a sight wouldn't even faze him, owing to Berk's fiery history, but there was one rather crucial difference here.
The flames were black.
Not red, not even blue, but jet-black.
Secondary fires around the destroyed home were burning orange and red, but the central fire, the one that gutted the domicile, did its dirty work under a far darker color. It made about as much sense as anything else today, but it somehow came off far worse than the other unpleasant surprises visited upon Hiccup in the last hour.
Looking back at Nestor, he hoped that this time the man had an explanation ready to go. But Nestor's eyes were wide and horrified this time. A man barely disturbed by a skele-bull was terrified of this new development.
Hiccup decided the explanations could slide this time out.
"Out of time," said Nestor, directing his statement at Hiccup. "You three need to leave."
Astrid, as equally disturbed as Hiccup if her face was any indication, said, "I think that's good advice, Hiccup."
The mist-covered sky right above the village grew dark all at once. Knowing he wasn't going to like what he saw, Hiccup looked up along with the others and spotted a gigantic murky shadow through the fog. It was blocking the sun, something indistinct and yet insidious-looking at the same time. He couldn't judge how big it was or how close it was, or anything else for that matter, but he could guess that this was something he didn't want hanging over his head.
There was an angry hiss that filled the air briefly, like a thousand kettles boiling over in unison. Then down a ways, another house exploded into gouts of black flame, sending what few villagers still remained in the village circle screaming for the forest.
"Leave!" pleaded Nestor. "I can't do anything against this one!"
"Hiccup!" said Astrid, throwing his flight harness at him in the hopes of getting his attention. "We need to…"
"Yeah, yeah, leaving!" Hiccup took the harness and began to strap it on. Astrid was already donning her own specialized harness while Toothless stared up at the sky, not growling but silently daring the shadow to come closer.
Another explosion of black erupted on the other side of the downed skele-bull, consuming several trees outright. The skele-bull itself was beginning to jitter more, as if coming awake. Nestor groaned as he looked at it. His efforts to permanently dismantle it hadn't worked, and while the thing's neck hung at an awkward angle it didn't act bothered by the neck readjustment at all.
"That's all I need," said Nestor. He looked back at Hiccup with resignation in his eyes. "I'm sorry for getting you all into this. I will delay things as best as I…"
Another explosion interrupted him, but this time the sound wasn't at ground level. More thunder than concussion, the newest blast had come from above. As the group turned their eyes skyward again, they spotted a second smaller shadow flitting past the larger one. It twisted, circled the larger shadow once more, and then darted away at a good clip. More thunder erupted above them, and moments later the hovering shadow moved away, more or less in the direction of the smaller shadow.
As the day brightened around them, Nestor regained some of his confidence, or at least some serious relief. In a brighter tone, he said, "I think we have a chance now. Take this opportunity and go."
He began to backpedal, moving past the rousing skele-bull that was even now attempting to stand on only three legs. Huge chunks of its skeleton were missing and smoke wisped off its wounded sections, but none of that mattered to the metal beast as it began to take a few hobbling steps.
Hiccup and Astrid were fully strapped in on top of Toothless and ready to go, yet Hiccup didn't give the order to fly. Instead, he took one last look at Nestor and said, "Are you going to be alright?"
Nestor shrugged as he continued to back up towards the western trail that led out of the village. "I have to lure the beast out of this village. Shouldn't be too hard, as I have what it wants. Not looking forward to what happens after, though." He then made a little pained smile and said, "If the Fates are kind… Ulp!"
That last part was due to the skele-bull's sudden charge. Even with three legs, it could move insanely well. Then again, so could Nestor, who sprinted off with the monster in hot pursuit. Hiccup swore he saw Nestor's boots glow orange as he sped away, much like how his arms had glowed during his failed attempt to sever the skele-bull's head.
Very briefly, Hiccup thought about pursing. He didn't want to leave Nestor at the mercy of that thing. But he had Toothless and Astrid to think about as well, what with something massive hanging over their heads. And ultimately, he was too much out of his element to be much help.
For now, it was time to go.
Hiccup had conjured up a lot of images to go with the monstrous shadow that lay in wait above the fog. Everything from a flying troll-giant that wanted to burn all left socks to another Red Death that was seeking revenge for the death of its brethren. He was really hoping to be wrong on every count.
Well, he was. That didn't make it any better.
The three of them broke through the low-flying mist and into bright daylight. This was, in fact, the kind of view Hiccup had been hoping to show Astrid before the day went to rot. Rolling fields of white moving through patches of spiky green forest with a light-blue sky above them. A lazy sun warming their skin as the wind swept past them. The sea stretching out into infinity, where it met the sky and merged into one all-encompassing horizon.
That was all great, but the abhorrent thing floating in the sky not all that far away ruined it.
Hiccup felt Astrid's arms tighten reflexively around his waist as she gasped in his ear. He gasped as well upon seeing the mass of bones hovering over the clouds, wingless, scoffing at gravity as if it was beneath its contempt. Bleached-white bones of every size and shape adorned the oval center, bones that had to belong to hundreds, if not thousands, of once-living creatures. It was nothing but bones, a flying pile of them stuck together and given a semblance of life.
Attached to the main body was a quartet of waving skeleton heads, connected by long necks filled with a mishmash of alien vertebrate. The heads themselves were giant, composite creations made from bone plates and shaped into horrific fanged images. They had some dragonoid qualities, but they were too distorted and wicked looking to have ever come from a real dragon.
The thing had to be the size of four or five Viking longboats lashed together, not as big as Red Death but still quite intimidating. None of the heads were turned their direction; they had another target, and they let loose torrents of black flame from their mouths into the sky with wild abandon. The unnatural fire sucked the very sunlight from the air as it passed by, though it eventually petered out after traveling a few hundred feet from the abomination.
Their target was another dragon.
Hiccup was so used to seeing dragons with riders attached that he sometimes forgot that, yes, most dragons don't let humans come along for the ride. This dragon was rider-less, spinning and dodging ferociously to stay ahead of the black fire blasts. It had to fly defensively, considering it had four monstrous heads firing at it constantly.
Despite his internal warning about getting nearer to the airborne altercation, Hiccup had Toothless drift closer to get a better look. Soon enough, he realized that this was a foreign dragon species to him. He knew the seven Berk species fairly well, knew about at least a dozen other ones that Vikings had encountered in their travels. But this one wasn't ringing any bells.
A lizard-like head was attached to a long snake-like neck connected to a massively powerful torso, all covered in forest-green scaled plating. Two sets of limbs on the torso, the front set articulated like a pair of human arms, though more clawed and scaly, while the rear set was larger. A pair of massive leathery wings was set along the mid-point of the torso. A prehensile tail covered in thorn-like spikes ended with a set of smaller wings – the traditional dragon aeronautic guidance system.
The dragon's face was too distant to make out. But it was being very quiet, not even roaring or grumbling as dragons often did in combat. Hard to judge from a distance, but the green dragon didn't look any bigger than a Nightmare, though it was longer and sleeker.
Hiccup also studied the bone abomination further (again, lacking a better name for it) and realized that it had several scorch marks on its surface. The dragon had gotten in a few hits, though it hadn't done much good. Much like the skele-bull, this thing didn't obey the usual rules covering the living, or even the laws of physics.
Were they related, this abomination and the skele-bull? They had to be. It wasn't like all the monsters of the Mainland were casually meeting at Tempest Point for a fish bake.
"Hiccup, can we stop getting closer to the thing?" said Astrid.
"Yeah, sorry," he replied, and pulled Toothless into a turn that took them further from the battle. Toothless seemed resistant to moving off, possibly feeling a need to attack the abomination or help out a fellow dragon. But he didn't resist for long and allowed the turn to finish.
There were now on a north-northwest heading, taking them back to Berk. Below them the mist was receding as open sea flowed under them. They'd be away from the Mainland within minutes, out of the battle and in the clear.
And Hiccup was fighting the urge to turn around, an urge growing stronger with each passing second.
He didn't like war, hadn't liked it since realizing war required killing. But he never turned his back on a fight that had to happen.
The bone abomination was just plain wrong. One look could tell you that. It had bombarded an innocent village without thought or mercy. And that foreign dragon, whatever its reasons for fighting the abomination were, had probably saved their lives.
"We can't just leave, can we?"
Astrid's quiet words in his ear were a heartbeat ahead of his own. Hiccup turned his head and gave her a little smile. "No, we can't."
Hiccup felt Toothless's head wriggle underneath him, his way of showing agreement. It was nice to know there were all on the same page.
Things were not looking good for the green dragon, and he knew it.
His normally-pristine scales were covered with blackened scorch marks, the dragon's natural fire immunity useless against the mystical black fire. His scales still resisted some of the damage, but the dragon felt more and more cooked as the battle continued, pain flowing from his wounds and slowing his reactions down.
One wing limped slightly, singed by a glancing hit and throwing off the creature's aerial agility, making him take more and more hits from the never-ending barrage. He could no longer gain altitude in his weakened state, and he was doing his best just to maintain current altitude.
The black fire flowed through the sky, and the dragon was helpless against it. Surprise had been his one advantage, but it had not been enough. Escape might have been possible had the dragon not needed to keep the bone abomination distracted for as long as he could. Now, with one sore wing, he could not outrun his enemy.
He still had one last act to perform, something that would mean certain death, but which might also destroy the abomination as well. He hated the idea of self-sacrifice, not after all these years, not with so much left to do. But it was better than being defeated, better than just dying. And who knows? Maybe it would be enough.
He just needed to get a little closer, to resist one last scorching gout of black fire, to enact one final surprise.
But he never got there, because some other flying reptile beat him to the surprise.
He had seen the black dragon in the distance before and hadn't really thought much of it. He'd abandoned the concept of dragon kinship a long time ago. They weren't about to come to his aid, and vice versa. So he was given a rare moment of surprise when the black dragon returned and raked the abomination from end to end with blue bolts of dragon fire. It was a very good shot, blasting away the neck of one of the heads so that it fell free and plummeted to the earth, still letting fly one last shot of black flame as it dropped.
The abomination twisted its heads in knots in its attempt to roast this new adversary, but the black dragon was already streaming away. That left the abomination vulnerable from a different angle, and the green dragon did not waste the opportunity.
Calling from within a reserve of energy, he reached out his claws and let loose the lightning. Accompanied by booming thunder that reverberated through the sky, arc after arc of blue electricity connected with the abomination at the base of another head, burning and frying. The fifth consecutive blast tore enough corrupted bone away to sever the neck, and a second head fell to its ruin.
The abomination focused its attention on him again, only to be greeted with another volley of fire from the black dragon. Then it was the green dragon's turn once more, and another head was destroyed.
Coming around for another pass, the black dragon fired off another merciless barrage. After that, the abomination had had more than enough. Aflame in a dozen places, headless, and spinning out of control, it fell from the sky like a falling snowball disintegrating in the sun. The force that had held it together had taken too much damage and was collapsing, bones raining down into the waiting ocean.
The dragon watched as the abomination crashed into the sea, sending small waves against the nearby shore and marring the purity of the water with its vile corruption. Within hours, there would be nothing remaining of the abomination, its components withering to dust as the corruption faded. But its impact would linger for some time.
And its creator remained.
The green dragon was curious now as the black dragon soared by once more. The green dragon hovered in place, gradually losing height due to his wounded wing but otherwise in no danger, and watched the black dragon swoop around in an approximation of a victory lap. Then the dragon realized that his black ally had company.
Two humans, riding it like a horse.
Where was the dignity?
The humans waved to him. Friendly sorts, at least. If he had the time, he might have followed up on this encounter. But he had too much to do.
He did the only thing he could think of. He nodded, politely acknowledging them. Weirdly, this seemed to confuse the humans for some reason, but the dragon didn't have time to analyze the matter further.
Going into a nosedive, the green dragon fled toward the ground and toward the coast. To ensure he wasn't going to be followed, he closed his eyes and channeled some of his energy along his scaly hide. Bending light around him was old hat, but it was still the best trick in his arsenal. To any outside observer, it was as if he had just disappeared in midair.
It wasn't a polite way to end things, but he simply had too much to do.
No more running.
Nestor was no stranger to running. The last four years of his life was largely one big marathon, almost as literally as it was metaphorically. So he was used to running, good at it. If he wasn't running away from something, he was running toward it.
Never a moment of rest. Never a breather. Always one step ahead of disaster.
He had outdistanced the skele-bull by about half-a-mile, but only because it was still in bad shape. Down one leg and nursing a crooked neck, it had trouble on the curved parts of the trail and fell over at least twice thanks to the road's poor condition. Any sane animal would have given up and gone off to lick its wounds. But this thing was neither sane nor an animal.
It wanted what he'd taken. It wouldn't stop until it got it back. That was its only purpose.
Breathing hard but not winded, Nestor waited at a curve in the trail, the gradient heavily sloped and the ground slick with mud and wet grass. A copse of thin trees guarded his back, obscuring everything past them from view. The mist also helped to plug up the holes in the foliage.
He didn't think it mattered, hiding the skele-bull's final destination. The thing wanted him and he was presenting himself to it. Meat dangling over a spear pit. But it wasn't stupid, unfortunately, and Nestor wasn't in the mood to get shown up twice in one day.
Especially since being wrong this time probably meant dying.
The ground began to shudder from the approaching war machine. It was not a subtle thing, the skele-bull. His teeth vibrated as the unseen menace closed the distance.
The problem with the plan was that as soon as the beast was in view, it'd be upon him in about three seconds. Not much time to act. But there was no better spot for this plan.
The vibrating had given way to shaking. It was almost here.
He once asked Arc what the secret to longevity was. Arc, not being the best at doling out sage advice, simply said, "Don't get in the way of things bigger than you." Not happy with how that piece of advice sounded, he added, "And if you have to, don't fight fair."
The skele-bull was visible, tearing down the trail and breaking outstretched branches into splinters. Nester could swear it put on speed as soon as it caught sight of him.
Three.
He was always standing in front of things bigger than him.
Two.
He didn't have much going for him…
One.
… But he always had great timing.
It bore down on him, four spearing horns leading the way. It had no intention of stopping.
His outstretched arms glowing, the world slowing to a crawl as he grabbed the lower set of horns a moment before they found his chest and pushed down with every drop of power locked inside him. Against an intact skele-bull, it wouldn't have been enough. But this creature wasn't intact.
The horns plowed into the ground, the monster's neck bending down, catapulting and cart wheeling the beast head over heels, its torso smashing into the copse behind Nester, smashing through the copse and down the cliff they had concealed until now. Down to the ocean a hundred feet below, where craggy rocks stood like dagger points.
The beast twisted in mid-roll, its weakened neck snapping off. But one of its legs spun around by accident, catching Nester in the stomach and launching him over the cliff as well, the world glowing orange for a split-second and then fading back to horrible reality.
Had his barrier field not fired, as if had a hundred times before, the blow would have ended Nester then and there. But now he tumbled within a shower of metal and wood, accompanying a dying war machine down to the ocean, a falling distance too great to survive.
Disoriented by the blow, sickened by the feeling of freefall, luck was still with him for the moment. One of the falling trees jammed into a pair of heavy boulders on the cliff just below Nestor. He slammed into the tree a heartbeat later and had the presence of mind to grab hold before sliding off it.
He was dangling twenty feet off the cliff, his lifeline the damaged pine that he could hear straining and cracking from his weight. And there was still a threatening drop below him. Gritting his teeth, Nestor attempted to maneuver along the tree, but motion only made the tree crack further.
Holding still, hoping the Fate's Luck was still on his side, he watched the skele-bull finish its fall. It didn't even land, technically. With the powercore torn away, there was nothing keeping the ancient weapon in one piece. A burst of light, a series of small explosions, and the beast's form disintegrated into a million fragments of metal in midair.
He was about to join it very shortly.
Then the mist overhead distorted, waved and parted as a barely-discernable object flew into his line of sight. It was almost utterly transparent save for a slight ripple effect on the sides, and you wouldn't have known what you were looking at if you didn't know the shape behind the distortion.
It came up and hovered in front of Nestor, a flapping sound accompanying it. Though he couldn't read its face in the slightest, Nestor knew it was amused just the same. And despite his current peril, he couldn't help but smile as well.
"Great timing, old man," he said.
The mist was finally letting up, though another batch was approaching fast from the east. The direct sun was managing to dispel some of the horror of the day, but it also made the damage that much easier to see.
Hiccup, Toothless, and Astrid stood on a nearby hill overlooking what was left of Tempest Point, the shade from the nearby grove concealing them adequately. Astrid was ready to leave, content to know that the villagers were okay and that most of the village survived the battle intact. It was as much concern as she thought the villagers warranted, in truth, considering their earlier treatment of her and what they must think of them now.
Hiccup, however, was staring out at the village absently, watching the people stamp out the few remaining fires and pick at the myriad debris piles that used to be their homes. It was hard to read his face right now, but he was clearly taking this harder than she was. Toothless was patiently waiting to get airborne again, though he watched the sky with a wary alertness. Astrid couldn't blame him, not after today.
"We probably saved the village, you know," she said. "Not that they'll look at it that way, but it's still the truth. If you're blaming yourself…"
"No," replied Hiccup, shaking his head slightly. "I'm not blaming myself, but… it's ruined."
"The village? They'll rebuild."
"My mission, Astrid," elaborated Hiccup. "You know how stories spread. They'll tell other people in other villages about me, about us, about the evil black dragon that toasted their village, and then there'll be no chance of Berk getting in nice with them for another generation."
"These people had problems with Vikings long before we came around, Hiccup. You weren't going to fix it overnight."
"Yeah, but now there's no point in trying."
"I wouldn't say that. Besides, since when do you ever stop trying?"
Hiccup opened his mouth to say something but then quickly abandoned it and shrugged. Astrid smiled lightly – she knew him pretty well and he was smart enough not to argue with her about his tendencies.
He swiveled around on his metal leg to face her, though the look on his face indicated he wasn't all that cheered up. "You know what's worse? I feel like there's something important hanging over our heads now, and I have no idea what it is. It's like the Gods just swept through here and cleaned up every little insane thing we saw today. I'm glad you're here to back up my story, because when I try to explain this to everyone back home they're going to knock Gobber off his crazy-story pedestal and put me up there instead."
Astrid was also dismayed at how little evidence was left over from the day's battles. The abomination had sunk into the ocean. The skele-bull seemed to have done the same thing – they found another battle-site down the coast with a bunch of toppled trees pointing toward a sea cliff. Only metal fragments remained of the beast itself, Hiccup grabbing a few of the larger ones and stuffing them in his pockets.
Nestor and the green dragon were gone, along with any explanations they might have had. For all she knew, they were at the bottom of the sea as well… but she honestly doubted it.
"Okay, so we can now relate to Gobber more than before," said Astrid. "Why is this bothering you so much?"
He gave her an earnest look, his eyes serious and almost haunted. "Because I feel like… I feel like if we leave now, without knowing what all of this meant… then we're turning our back on all of it, and it's going to bite us in the rear someday. Something serious is going on, Astrid, and Berk isn't all that far away from it."
Astrid agreed to a degree, but she honestly couldn't bear the thought of lingering any longer to investigate and inviting more calamities to come their way. They'd had enough close shaves to fill a week's worth of dragon training, and she really didn't want to die away from her home.
She didn't say any of this, though. Instead, she gestured to the horizon and said, "Well, at least we have that view you wanted to show me. Some good came out of today."
The view was nice, in fact, the layered mist adding some color to the barren sea before them. If there wasn't a wasted village in the foreground, it might have been beautiful.
Hiccup snickered as he gazed out at the view. "Yeah, some good."
Astrid knew that Hiccup's intentions toward today's outing hadn't really been about intelligence gathering or showing the Mainland off to her. It felt like he'd been trying to recreate that one special ride atop Toothless, her first dragon ride. Add some wonder, some mystery, a pleasant view, maybe even a quiet spot with just the two of them, and it might have been special. And… she'd been looking forward to it, but not without hesitation.
She knew Hiccup was still adjusting to his newfound acclaim and role in Berk. She was happy for him some days, concerned for him on others, especially after he expressed his desire to explore the Mainland. She was concerned for herself, too.
All of her life, she idolized the warrior way, the trophies mounted on the walls of her home, the statues of Viking heroes in the Great Hall. Strength, perseverance, bravery – these were the tenants upon which she lived her life. The enemy was always the dragon, and she was going to make the enemy pay every time they dared disturb the airspace around Berk. Before she was felled in battle, she'd have earned enough accolades to merit a new statue in the Hall.
It was… simple. Her life was going to be hard, brutal, but simple.
And then Hiccup went and changed it all. Nothing was simple anymore.
You'd think someone like her would have been mad as hell about it. But most of the time it was better than before. There was less fear in her life, more excitement, and so many more possibilities for adventure and discovery. But after years of seeing things as black and white, after years of looking at Hiccup as an object of ridicule allowed to roam free only because his father was the chief, it was still hard to adjust.
That's where things got uneasy. All that old thinking still swum around in her brain. For all the respect she had for Hiccup, all the affection she felt for the one-legged dragon rider of Berk, there was fear in her whenever her thoughts went… further… than friendship.
Friendship? Of course. Hiccup was easy to be friends with once you stopped the judging. Past that? Fear crept in, something Astrid hated to admit she felt. Because to change her relationship with Hiccup again, to redefine her life when she wasn't done redefining it from the last major life-changing event… that was something she wasn't ready to deal with right now. And Hiccup might not want to admit it, but he wasn't ready for it either.
Still, she was disappointed about today. That much she could admit to herself, though not to Hiccup. Not yet.
"We should go get your axe," said Hiccup, motioning to Toothless and the saddle. "I do want to get back to Berk before nightfall. My celestial navigation leaves something to be desired."
Astrid nodded. Her axe was a family heirloom and she hadn't wanted to leave it behind, though before she hadn't wanted to risk further life and limb to recover it. Now, it wouldn't be a problem.
A while later, back in the air and sailing across the ocean once more behind Hiccup, she thought more about the insanity of the day. Though most of it was confusing and frightening, there were moments of heroics between total strangers that merited remembrance. If people, or even dragons, from diverse backgrounds and cultures were capable of coming to each other's aid, without obligation or even reward…
Well, that had to count for something.
While Toothless left the Mainland under the cover of a new cloud of ocean mist, he didn't leave unnoticed.
One pair of eyes had been watching the two young ones and their flying mount, hiding among the brush not far from their location. Those same eyes watched them leave, taking note of their direction.
Draconis Nocturnous. Rare species. Powerful and strong dragon. Powerful and strong bones.
He emerged from hiding shortly after the dragon had departed, a grim figure as skinny as a spear shaft and far more intimidating. Sunken eyes with blackened sockets stood out on his unpleasant face. His skin matched the pale bleakness of the chicken and cattle bones that composed the framework of his raggedy, ramshackle clothing. A series of random bones, some of which were skulls of animal origin, hung from his belt on pieces of twine and cloth. He came off as elderly, almost corpse-like as he lacked any hair, but he moved with the fluidity of a man in his prime.
Though his outward demeanor implied a level of apathy, in truth he was quite put out by the day's events. He had put much effort into the bone abomination. One hundred and thirteen years, in truth. A collection of thousands of dead creatures, prepared, corrupted, molded – and it went down less than three hours after it was launched from its century-old resting spot.
It was supposed to deal with the dragon, supposed to win the day. It almost had. But the dragon had unexpected help, an ally from out of nowhere.
The dragon and his human lackey had been expected. The rest were… complications. Still, what was done was done. The abomination had returned to the Void, as all things were destined to do. He really couldn't scream at the universe about it, not without being a hypocrite.
The Guardian had been destroyed, but not by his hand. The items were stolen; the thieves had gone to ground.
Victory postponed.
But Cervantes was a patient man… using the word man loosely. All things came to him eventually. He was in a very good position to regain the initiative, as they would all find out soon enough.
That black dragon, those two humans… they bore further scrutiny. They might even prove useful.
He unclipped a dragon skull from his belt, one marked all around with strange runes and sigils in black chalk. Being careful not to disturb the marks, he held it in the palm of his left hand and chanted in a language spoken by no other living being on the planet. After the words were said, he lowered his palm.
The skull remained where it was, floating in the air.
This particular specimen was a recent acquisition. A little dragon that had gotten lost from its flight, it had been more a scavenger than a threat. But it had enough power in its bones to be useful.
It whispered to him in a sly voice, asking for instruction. Its two eyes filled with an inky blackness that was deeper than the absence of light.
"Follow the black dragon, and monitor," said Cervantes, his voice strong and certain. "Remain out of sight. You are my eyes and ears now."
The skull whispered once more, accepting the command, and then floated off towards the sky, flying as fast as it did in the past when it had a body.
Cervantes then took another bone from his belt, a femur that belonged to something ancient and long dead, and held it in his hands. More untranslatable words followed, and then a pair of skeletal bat-shaped wings materialized on his back, generated by pure mystical energy and glued to his shoulder blades by his will.
The wings were empty of leather or fabric, but that would not hinder Cervantes in the slightest. Nor did the wings beat or even quiver when he lifted off the ground and soared over the mist, heading for his own destination across the sea.
One old farmer from Tempest Point, walking down the coastal trail and still unnerved by the near-destruction of his home, spotted the winged man silhouetted against the dying light of the day and fled for the hills once more. When members of his family found him a day later, he was babbling over and over about having seen the Angel of Death.
While inaccurate, he wasn't far off the mark.