I neither own nor claim any rights to How To Train Your Dragon...

Jarin and Tarina:
A How To Train Your Dragon Spinoff

Chapter 2 – Settling Into Exile

Three days ago...

Gelbrun rode on the back of his Majestic Flamescale, Brokenclaw who flew straight and true from Nartara to Dragon Island. Just the day before, the former Mad Chief had declared himself in self exile from Nartara on the grounds that the atrocities he had committed against both his people and against dragon-kind could never be forgotten, and that if he stayed, he would be a constant reminder to the people, and they to him, of what he had done. His daughter, now the Chief of Nartara in his place, had accepted his declaration, and in accordance with Nartaran rules of exile, he had left the shores of his homeland the next day, never to return.

He had hoped that leaving would help him ease his mind and come to terms with the mercy and grace the Creator of All had shown him. In a way, it was. He was now free of everything that tied him to who he allowed himself to become. But at the same time, being alone allowed him to think about the choices he had once made that turned him into that monster. Examining himself was as bad, if not worse, than seeing his people and not being able to forget the darkness he had allwed to work within and through him for years. One thing his on father once said shortly after he retired as Chief had stayed with Gelbrun to this day: No matter how hard you may want to, or try to, you will never be able to escape from yourself.

Gelbrun bowed his head as tears leaked from his eyes. "God help me..."

O O O

Brokenclaw carried his two-legged friend smoothly on the flight to Dragon Island. It was not easy. The man was large, and while he had carried humans before, it was never over such long distances. He was not exhausted, but he decided that he would need to land somewhere before nightfall and then complete the journey the next day after a good night's rest.

It was his human, he sensed, who was carrying the heaviest burden. The man's history was no secret. In fact, he himself was sort of the first victim of the rage the Great Liar had fueled within Gelbrun. He glanced his gnarled claw and remembered the pain of the stone smashing down on it, slammed there by the man he now called "friend." Through the soul-bond he shared with his human, he reached out with his mind to that point where the laws of dragon society said one could go no further. The point where the Behemoth, known to humans as the Red Death delighted in crossing, where commands could be planted in the mind of the target and could not be disobeyed, unless there was some sort of buffer preventing it.

Shadowhorn, who was a victim of terrible cruelty at the order of Gelbrun, crossed that point, but only to see what was in the broken human's heart and mind. To fully understand what drove him to such hatred. The other dragon could have taken control of the man's mind and commanded him to kill himself, and Gelbrun would have done it. But after he had learned that Gelbrun had been a victim of demonic manipulation and was not truly evil in and of himself, and had been freed and reconciled by the Creator of All Himself, Shadowhorn also forgave.

Right here and right now, Brokenclaw was about to take that extra step that Shadowhorn refused to take. He could see in his human's mind all the horrors he had endured and dealt out, and the pain in his soul that was the price. His human could not go on like this. Not in isolation from other humans. And the sorrow radiating from him would not do well for him among the wild dragons he would soon be living among. Brokenclaw was resolved. His human needed this. He pushed his mind through the bond, past the barrier of conscience. But it was not a command he would plant. Just a simple thought consisting of nothing but the the truth and the pure emotion that came with it:

I love you... Brother...

O O O

Gelbrun's eyes widened as feelings of love and well-being exploded within his soul, along with a messages spoken directly into his mind: I love you... Brother... And there was no mystery as to where the though originated. Like when Shadowhorn licked his face in forgiveness, Gelbrun was overwhelmed. He fell forward against Brokenclaw's neck, wrapping his arms around it gently, and broke down crying like a child. "I love you too, my brother," he rasped, over and over, until he drifted off to sleep, confident that Brokenclaw would not let him fall.

He was shaken awake as the sun was setting, still on his dragon's back. They were circling an island dominated by a mountain with an amphitheater-like bowl at its center. It was more or less covered with ice and snow, and seemed to offer insufficient room for settlements. Maybe a small outpost could be built here, but from horizon to horizon, there was nothing else to be seem with the exception of a massive fog bank to the West. This is what traders referred to as Lone Island. Which meant that the fog bank was Helheim's Gate, where Dragon Island existed.

"What is it, my friend?" he asked. Brokenclaw warbled and dropped his draconian gaze to the island below, and Gelbrun understood. "You're right. It's getting late. This is as good a place as any to rest."

They descended and touched down in the center of the mountainous bowl. It was a large, open space, and was sparsely peppered with trees, with plenty of fallen branches for firewood. There didn't seem to be any significant animal life, aside from a few birds nesting in the trees. He couldn't explain it, but Gelbrun couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this place than he could see. But the lack of physical evidence to that feeling caused him to just dismiss it as residual paranoia from the habits of his past.

He climbed down form Brokenclaw's shoulders, stretched, and strode around to face his dragon. "You flew well today, my friend. And now do us both a favor and grab us some fish."

At the mention of fish, Brokenclaw's expression came as close to a smile as a Majestic Flamescale could achieve. The dragon gave a happy warble, bobbed his head, and took to the sky, the light of the setting sun reflecting off the orange, metallic patterns in his side scales, and not for the first time, Gelbrun smiled at how beautiful the creature was. It was an observation he never would have made had he not been free from the Voicces serving the Great Liar.

Gelbrun knelt on both knees, bowed his head, and raised his hands to the heavens, "Blessed are you, Lord God, Creator of All. Thank you for your grace and mercy, and for my friend... my brother... I beg you, let no harm come to him. I ask nothing for myself, for you have already given me more than I ever hoped to receive, and even more than what I deserve. Thank you." He lowered his arms and stood to his feet. He didn't just believe it; he knew his prayer was heard.

Presently, he set about gathering wood for a fire. Brokenclaw would be returning soon with fish, and they would eat and rest well that night. The next day, their travels would take them into the mist of Helheim's Gate and to Dragon Island, and he, Gelbrun, would be settling into exile.