Chapter 21: The Last Trial
When first light came, Dagur groggily suppressed a yawn. Being on the last round of watch had its perks, but the effect of a shorter night didn't go unnoticed. He gently shook Heather awake
"What?" Asked the jet-haired girl.
"Wakey wakey"
The Berserker quickly shook off the sleepiness and eyed the Headless Tribe across the them carefully.
"Did they do anything?" she asked, fixated on the danger of that mixed tribe.
"Not during my watch," Dagur replied, shaking Hiccup awake much more aggressively. "Wake up brother !"
"I'm awake." Hiccup replied coldly, having sensed the Berserker Chief well before.
Around the trio, the rest of the group slowly woke up.
"Maybe I should have padded the armor," Fishleg complained.
"It will have slowed you down thought." Astrid pointed out, lightly jumping to wake up her numb muscles.
"I'm already slow enough."
A roar drew every group's attention towards the middle rock, where the guards and Messenger spent the night.
"We are leaving now." He said while saddling up Dusk.
"Wait !" A scream came up in poor Archipelago common tongue. "Our protector dragon doesn't wake up! "
Hiccup and Fishleg quickly joined the tribesmen. In front of them, the Forever Wing lay still as a corpse.
"Is it still alive?" Hiccup asked.
"Looks like, but I barely felt the breath," Fishleg replied, placing his hand on the nostril. A gentle breeze across his hands proved the life of the dragon.
"Looks like it's hibernating." A voice sounded behind them.
Turning back, it was Tyrad, creeping up silently behind them.
"Did you do this?" Hiccup questioned, stepping forward to keep the Headless coming too close.
"A bit quick with the accusation don't you think?" Tyrad snickered back.
"Who else has enough knowledge to put an exotic dragon to sleep?" Fishleg shouted.
"Isn't Chief Haddock here the Archipelago's renowned dragon master, pretty sure his vast knowledge about dragons goes well beyond the frontiers of the Archipelago," Tyrad explained slowly, gesturing to Hiccup.
His words reached the intended effect, as the tribesmen all backed away from Hiccup.
"Wait" The tribesmen elder. "I believe Chief Haddock isn't someone cunning like this."
"If you wish," Tyrad replied fully, before walking away. He knew full well that the Foreverwing wasn't going to wake up before tomorrow. But he couldn't resist pushing Hiccup Haddock a bit more.
Incredible Tyrad uttered under his breath while scribbling on some parchment, before carefully placing it back in a pouch underneath the soft armor.
Meanwhile, at the Foreverwing, the two Berkians apologized to the tribe.
"Sorry, but I can't do anything." Hiccup said, remorseful. Why didn't you grab the remedies, the herbs, anything from their island?
"Do not worry. I believe that the Headless is the cunning tribe." The chief replied. "However, our journey also ends here. I hope that you can best the Headless in the upcoming trials."
"We will," Fishleg reassured.
0—0
"It is ready?" Nuit asked Tyrad. Uneasy, the blue-clothed Headless looked at the sky. "The clouds are fading soon."
"Soon, fetch me some Boise berries. "Tyrad replied.
"Bouase?"
"The red dotted ones." Tyrad sighed. Why haven't you still memorized the book?"
"I am one the fourth scroll," Nuit replied. "And not being able to read half the words doesn't help."
"Well, the Boise berry is on the third scroll," Tyrad smirked.
"You're lying. Aren't you?" Nuit replied, uneasy. Tyrad was unofficially ranked much higher than him within the tribe, and the more he interacted with him, the more Nuit believed that the rumor that ran around that Tyrad knew the point of differentiation of everyone was true. So angering him was very, very risky.
"No" Tyrad replied, absolutely composed.
"He is, because the third scroll is lost, and his in charge of re-numbering them." A coarse voice sounded next to them. "And now, silence, both of you," Ombre added.
Nuit immediately obeyed the command. If Tyrad instaured fear, the masked Headless that ordered him put pure terror into Nuit. Ombre's way of thinking is that every being is equal, in the sense that it will yield if he commits enough attention. The numerous times that required him to intervene showcase that he was well capable of imposing his philosophy onto others.
"I was just verifying something," Tyrad replied, not a bit scared, not diverting his eyes from the mixture that he was currently pounding.
"What?"
"That one is much more inclined to believe a lie if it is said by someone of higher power and authority. Isn't Nuit?"
"Ye..Yes," Nuit chimed in, before immediately trying to be invisible again.
"Ahh, it's ready" Raising the pestle, Tyrad checked the consistency of the mixture with the light of a small candle. Now thick enough to be shaped into a ball, the paste promptly landed in Nuit's hand.
"What was the berry for?" Curiosity got better of Nuit.
"Taste."
"Taste?"
"Yes, taste, you wouldn't want the prey to spit it out because it tastes like rotten meat wouldn't you?" Tyrad explained like it was the most logical thing in the world.
"Of course," Nuit replied, before fading into the darkness, very glad that the one thing he was good at, erasing his presence, was something useful to get away from those two.
\/—•—\/
Skimming past the bushes, Nuit slowly made his way toward the small alcove where the tribes slept. Skillfully dodging the awareness of the two taking watch, Nuit climbed on a small rock that offered a perfect viewing angle downward onto the camp and waited for the right time to strike.
\/—•—\/
Back at the Headless camp, Ombre and Tyrad got themselves covered in mud and ashes, as well as some special mix of herbs, before intertwining themselves with a very thin iron wire.
"Are you sure this will work?" Ombre asked.
"No, but we will know very soon."
The two Headless silently approached the outer layer of the forest. In a large clearing, nestled near a small stream, lied the group composed uniquely of Skrills. Since the dragon could sense the electric signal of their prey, rendering stealth useless, the two Headless approached the dragons head-on. Almost immediately, the Alpha woke up and shot a light bolt towards the intruder.
Despite having ample to dodge, Ombre stepped into the bolt. To his satisfaction, and to the Skrill's surprise, whereas any other living being would have buckled from the shock, Ombre stood firm and looked at the bolt dispersing all around him.
"So?" Tyrad asked walking around his comrade
"Still stings" Ombre replied.
"So you do need full coverage to become immune," Tyrad concluded pensively.
"Might as season yourself then, since you will deliver an already tied roast to them?" Ombre spat back.
In a few quick steps, before any other Skrill could react, Ombre was within arm's length of the dragon. The sweet scent calmed the silver dragon down.
Gently was it? Ombre slowly extended his hand, while looking dead on into the Skrill.
The dragon stared back at the hooded figure in front. He sensed power but not tyranny, and also a hidden despair within it, rooted deep within the being itself. Nevertheless, the Skrill could also sense that power could kill him if necessary. Deeming that it was enough to earn his respects, the dragon pressed forward his muzzle into the gloved hand.
"Good. And now, let's surprise that Berkian chief, would you?" Ombre said, stroking the dragon's head.
"Incredible. That Berkian chief is truly a gold mine. Shame he's so enclosed within his thoughts. He will have made a fine friend. " Tyrad commented. But sensing Ombre's dubious look, he quickly added "But he is also an excellent enemy."
Ombre quickly went back giving instructions to the dragons. At first, the Skrill was reluctant, and Ombre decided to try and argue with the dragons
"You can't beat that Night Fury, so just save yourself the trouble, all right?"
All the Headless got was a grumble followed by a small spark, which, after being dissipated by the wires, felt like a scratch. Giving up, Ombre stood up while maintaining his palm on the dragon's snout.
"Do not anger me, beast." He spat out coldly.
Angered by the words, the dragon tried to stand up, but to his demise, he was met with a force he couldn't overcome. Anger changed into fury, and the Skrill charged up his signature lightning. Faster than the arcs was Ombre's arm, plunging towards the dragon's eye, stopping the dagger right before the pupils.
"Being your equal is a choice of mine, understand this, dragon" Ombre spat out.
Feeling more the coldness of the metal than the words, the Skrill let out a guttural sound, signaling his pack to strike. Ready to trade his eye for the life of the two intruders. What came to him was his pack's cries for help.
Ombre removed the dagger, allowing the dragon to turn around, only to find a two-tail, wingless dragon staring at the other Skrills. The Solitude was keeping the rest of the pack at bay. Recognizing the forbidden dragon, the Alpha Skrill yield. Bowing his head towards the Headless that stood in front of him.
"See, I told you threats work on anything," Ombre smirked at Tyrad.
"Sure, but where is the elegance of that? My way of understanding and making them do it by their own volition is much more sophisticated." Tyrad replied.
"There elegance in efficiency," Ombre replied
"If you say so."
"Indeed I do say it." Turning to the Skrill. "Wait for the signal, dragon." And by clicking his tongue, Ombre called back the Solitude.
\/—•—\/
Back on top of the rock, boredom started to etch its way into Nuit's mind.
"Why are they taking so long to switch?" Nuit muttered to himself. "Don't tell me I came right after a change of shift."
Movements below made the Headless shrink back into cover. Peeking out again carefully, to his great deception, it was only one on watch going and relieving himself.
"for Odin's sake, if they take any longer, I'm going." Nuit pumped himself.
The tribesmen, did, in fact, take any longer. Each time Nuit decided to go in, one last thought prevented him from jumping down.
For the sake of stealth, Nuit didn't wear the usual Headless soft armor, but rather a thin piece of fabric originally from his own tribe, well more suited for the type of work he is currently doing. With the lightness of the fabric came inevitably its fragility. The tribesmen's weapon could easily cut through the fabric, and because of the small blade, Nuit would inevitably be grazed by them if it came to hand to hand. Something that he absolutely couldn't afford. So, he waited, the amount of curses increasing along with time.
Finally, a shuffling sound alerted Nuit. Peeking over the ledge, he saw a heavenly sight. Two tribesmen were getting up and walking towards the two currently on watch. Securing a rope, Nuit quietly descended into the camp and in three quick and quiet steps, reached the Forever Wing. Rubbing the nostrils with the powder, making the dragon yawn slightly. Nuit took the opportunity to throw the plant mixture into jaws. The Headless swiftly climb up the rope, before untying it and storing it back into his belt.
Marvelous Job Nuit thanked himself on the way.
\/—•—\/
At the Headless camp, Nuit found Tyrad and Ombre comfortably installed. Two small cups filled with a fragrant beverage were laid before them.
"Really?" Nuit whispered. Waking up a sleeping Headless wasn't without consequences.
"Maybe you were too slow?" Chuckled Tyrad.
"They took forever to change shift, not my fault."
"Maybe you should have caused something to force them then," Tyrad replied.
"You know I can't afford to cause commotion."
"Interesting. Something you mind sharing? " Tyrad smiled, dangerously. Nuit suddenly tensed up, and his hand automatically went to the dagger hidden in his right sleeve.
"Nothing, just thought that I can't be the one to fail this plan," Nuit replied lightly.
Ombre, on his side, didn't seem to partake in the bickering, something Nuit was infinitely thankful for. Instead, the masked Headless showcased his disdain by emptying his cup, before helping himself with another portion from the jar on the ground. From it was poured a translucent, amber-colored liquid.
Handing over his cup, Nuit got Ombre to fill it up. Gently appreciating the aromas of the liquid before taking a sip, The blue-clad Headless let out a sigh of satisfaction.
"New batch?" he asked.
"New recipe. The one where we added fruits from the south reached maturity." Ombre answered, before emptying another cup. " Drinks a bit too easily though. "
The other two Headless nodded their head. The added fruit made the drink too smooth. Yet, they weren't going to complain, as it was still strong in alcohol, most importantly, it came from Ombre's portion.
After a couple of cups, Nuit found it better to leave before Ombre realized that Tyrad and him were freely drinking in his stash, Nuit laid down before his dragon, a dark blue Nadder that matched the dye on his clothes. Gently stroking the muzzle of the asleep dragon, the Headless let himself drift into sleep.
•—0—•
"Does the Northern Tribe retire from the trials?" The Messenger asked.
"Sadly we are." The chief answered. "Best of luck out there, Chief of Berk, see if you can sway the group of Skrill into your side." He added to Hiccup.
"Thank you. I'll promise that I stop the Headless." Hiccup extended his hand, which was promptly grasped firmly by the tribesmen chief.
An impatient dragon roar signaled that the three remaining groups: the flock of Skrill, the Berkians and the berserker siblings and the Headless needed to take the skies. Sparing a last look back, Hiccup mounted Toothless, with a gentle command, the Night Fury elegantly took altitude, catching up with the rest of the group.
"And South we go." The Messenger spoke, before bearing one Guard.
"Wait, Messenger." A voice called out. Turning around, it was Tyrad, atop a crimson Rumblehorn. Behind him was Ombre, quietly leaning back against the scales, and in front was Magnus, holding the reigns.
Looks like not all of them have dragons capable of carrying them. Hiccup made a mental note, which was all the scarier. There was no way on this side of the Archipelago that the Headless would come with less than fifteen members. After a quick headcount, Hiccup realized that two dragons were missing, which meant two unknown dragons were a part of their ranks.
"Fishleg, what dragon is small enough not to be able to carry someone."
"Hum a terrible terror, a speedster, there's a lot?" Fishleg replied.
"That also would be dangerous enough for the Headless to bring with them here."
"I'll look." Fishleg fumbled through his pouches, retrieving all kinds of dragon documentation.
"No.., No…. too weak. To rare. Literally untamable. Presumed extinct…"
"Presumed extinct is based on what we, well mostly Hiccup had uncover. "Astrid chimed in, steering Stormfly close and into a hover. We cannot rule out that they may have found some."
"Then possibly a Sifflet, which is roughly the size of a terrible terror or this one," Fishleg replied, handing Hiccup the information.
"Alright. Fishleg, tell the other what we can do to counter both of them."
"Yes."
Meanwhile, the Messenger was growing impatient. After Tyrad halted them, he had yet to say another word.
"What is it?"
"Oh, I'm just waiting for the Berkian chief to finish up his little analysis of our forces," Tyrad smirked.
The words were carried to Hiccup's ear by the wind. "What do you want?"
"Just watch," Tyrad replied. Behind, Ombre stood up and let out a screech, which was followed by a series of hand gestures.
"What.." A dumbfounded Daggur was soon joined by an equally confused Snotlout.
"No.." Hiccup turned Toothless around, and under his astonished eyes, the flock of Skrill flew away.
"Thank you, Hiccup, for teaching us how to control such a magnificent beast," Tyrad shouted over the wind. His words were like acid, pouring into the wound left open by the Skrill.
"Interesting." The Messenger said.
"Wait, isn't this against the rule?" Heather shouted.
"What rule?" The Messenger replied, coldly shutting off any hope of retribution. "Well, since only two are left, we head back to where we started.
•—0—•
The rocky pillars soon came into sight. With both remaining groups landing below opposite pillars. The Messenger walked towards the Headless.
"Since you proved the most among both trials, you get the right to choose what the final trial will be. The only rule is that it must uphold one value held by the Emperor, and must be limited to the confines of the island."
"Since the Emperor must be able to strategize, and know the strength of his subject. I said that we have a one-on-one face-off. Each group chooses one member and fights to yield or death within the confines of the pillars. Once victory is decided, the next two are up. The one who had the most victories wins the trials." Tyrad replied almost instantly, as if he had already foreseen this outcome.
"Interesting. Your wish will be granted." The Messenger then went to the other side and explained the rules.
"You have a candle's time to choose who is going to fight each turn."
"Wait." Hiccup called out. "What does it mean to yield?"
"It means that one side must say the word 'I yield.'"
"Then I want an additional rule. The group can yield for their fighter." Hiccup replied, Afraid that the Headless may be playing dirty and use some herbs to render one unconscious, or even simply unable to speak.
"Then how about only one try for each? Otherwise, it doesn't showcase the emperor's ability to strategize." Tyrad, who had walked up suggested.
"Granted." The Messenger said. "Each group gets to yield one time for their fighter."
"You…" Astrid said, griping her axe tightly. If it wasn't for the Messenger, who she knew full well was almost unreasonably strong as a fighter, her blade would already be cleaved into the face of the Headless, who was smartly hiding behind the grey-armored dragon emissary.
"Choose well." Tyrad said, "The first turn is important, as it will raise or tank morals." Tyrad slyly added before turning his heels and walked back.
"How about we face each other?" Astrid shouted back "Or you can only rely on cowardly schemes?"
"Oh, no. I'm not fighting the first turn. That isn't smart." Without looking back, the Headless replied.
The Messenger instructed both Guards to hide both groups from each other. Back in the middle, he lit a small candle and stood still, glazing the ephemeral flame.
"So, who goes?" Fishleg asked. "We can't win if we fight them head to head."
"Of course we can." Shouted back, Astrid. "You know what, I'll go first, and show you how it's done." Her temper is already at an all-time high.
"What if it's a dragon?" Fishleg replied.
"It won't be," Astrid argued back. "It will be that Yak born. Just watch." Looking back towards Hiccup. "Let me go Hiccup." She said.
The look on her face meant that she would hit him if a semblance of a no was uttered. Reluctantly, Hiccup agreed. "Fine, but yield if you have to."
"As if." Astrid scoff. Slaming down her helmet visor. She walked before the dragon and waited.
A signal from the Messenger made both Guards jump to the side.
Marching towards the center, Astrid snapped her tongue when she realized who her opponent was. It was a Headless, but clad in its armor, it would even make Stoick, one of the biggest Vikings she knew, small.