Dagur looked at the Berserkers and at Heather. His future self spotted an opening in their circle.

"Come out here," he instructed.

Quickly, the boy obliged, snagging a blade from one of the goons as he left. Ansson stalked towards Heather, who got into a fighting stance. Just as he took his second step, a knife went into his back. The Berserker let out a cry of pain and slumped to the ground; however, Dagur was not yet finished. He pushed the knife in further and twisted it, relishing in the agony it invoked. The blade was removed only to be relocated to Ansson's side. While this ensued, FD saw Heather and how disturbed she looked.

With realization dawning, he said, " This was the set up. You can't kill Ansson. You have to stop."

PD almost turned to glare at him but recalled that no one else would see the figure.

Instead, FD kept talking. "It was a win-win situation for Oswald. Either Ansson would beat you and prove that you're not respected as a Viking, let alone a leader, or you would go crazy and show that you're too unstable for leadership. Prove him wrong. Have restraint and don't kill Ansson–no matter how good it might seem."

His past self put less pressure on the weapon before looking at Heather. He could see what FD saw and that look of horror was something he was only too well-acquainted with seeing on the faces of others. Despite all his worse, or better, judgment, Dagur stopped and rose to his feet. Painstakingly, Ansson was lifted to his feet by his goons.

"A real...Berserker would've...finished what he'd started," he spat with disgust in his eyes.

The Viking was carried off by his cronies while Dagur glared him down. Heather cautiously went towards her brother.

"Are you okay?"

He grumbled, "Yeah, just annoyed to put it lightly." The boy took a breath to calm himself and closed his eyes for a second.

"Thank you," he heard.

Reopening his eyes, he looked at his sister.

"You knew that I wasn't ready for a fight like that yet and I appreciate you helping me," Heather told him, a grateful smile on her face. Her smile faltered for a moment before it returned with a new confidence. "I think that you should be chief. Even if it doesn't happen now, I'll gladly return the position to you once I get it."

Dagur's eyes lit up. "You'd really do that?"

Heather nodded. "I've seen the way you are with the Berserkers and heard how you talk about them. You deserve to be the leader and the least I can do is not stand in the way of that happening."

Beaming, Dagur led Heather back to the Hall, where the siblings found their father. Oswald's eyes briefly opened wide, then he regained his composure.

"Heather," he greeted, smiling. Grin fading, he added, "Dagur. I assume that you failed to obtain the fishhook."

The boy narrowed his eyes at him and then he smirked. Lifting his right hand, he showed the silver hook to the chief. For a short while, Oswald simply stared at the item, teeming with disbelief.

"Y-you got it?"

Dagur's smirk did not falter. "Sure did."

Panic appeared on the chief's visage. "What happened t–" He stopped and bit his tongue. Through gritted teeth, he stated, "Then I'll take this." He snatched the hook and turned on his heel, going back to the questions asked by his Berserkers. "Come along, Heather. I think that enough of your day has been spent chaperoning."

Reluctantly, Heather faced her sibling. "Thanks again," she said, following after Oswald.

All Dagur could do was shake his head and go back to his hut. Once he got inside of the hut, the Berserker looked at his older self.

"Thanks for the heads up with Ansson."

FD gave a small nod. "No problem with that, but this does cause one." He frowned, "If something had gone wrong today, Heather could have been hurt...or-" FD's face paled and he raised a hand to the bridge of his nose. "Well you get the point. If Oswald's willing to let something happen to her too, then there's no telling what he'll do."

PD went to his room and began collecting his things. "Agreed. Apparently, I need to protect Heather from him and the only way I can do that is to not have him be onto me. It's about time that I moved out."

The future Dagur watched his younger self pack up his weapons for a minute before FD stopped him.

"Wait."

PD turned his head. "Why?"

FD walked over to him. "Because it's too conspicuous. If you leave right now, you'll let him know that you're aware of what he did. A key part of tricking someone is letting them think they've got the upper hand and right now, I think that means just staying put and acting like nothing's changed."

PD slowed his speed, though did not entirely halt.

"Plus if I stay here, I can spy on him," he noted.

FD gave a smug grin. "And there are few things that either of us would like better than an opportunity to do that."

The young Dagur put his belongings back from whence they came and began pacing. "I need a plan. Heather's only going to be in danger because of Oswald trying to create situations that will turn her against me. There has to be a way to stop him before he can do anything else."

"For today," FD began, "what you really need to do is go back out and help out around the island. Show everyone that you're not plotting against Oswald or doing whatever else he might say you are. I'll keep an eye on him while you do that and will let you know what I find out."

The two exited the hut and went their separate paths. As the past Dagur found various buildings and Vikings that had need of his assistance, the future Dagur kept a close eye on Oswald. There was little to spy on as the chief was just in the Hall for the rest of the day. When night fell, Oswald said goodnight to Heather and finally left the building. FD followed him and soon noticed that the man was not going in the direction of his hut. After Oswald reached the hut that he was headed to, he knocked on the door. Several moments passed before it was answered by Ansson. Prior to the chief even being invited into the home, he brushed past the Berserker. FD went in after him and watched the scene unfold.

"What happened?" Oswald questioned, irritated.

Ansson tried to not show a limp as he went to a chair and slid down. "I let him win," he lied.

FD scoffed. "Whatever you need to tell yourself."

Oswald was not buying that either. "I told you how this needed to transpire. It was foolproof, but it seems like the fool was me for trusting that you could pull this off," the man stated, glowering.

Ansson frowned back at him. "Well, this plan wasn't really in my best interest. It only would've worked if I won. The other option was Dagur looking crazy by attacking me." Surprise showed on the chief's face. "Ya didn't know I thought about that part, did ya?" Ansson commented.

Oswald's expression turned sour again. "It doesn't matter what the possible outcomes were, none of them should have been what actually did happen." He felt annoyance transition into anger. "And even if we were to ignore the fact that I am your chief, you also owe me several well done jobs in payment for me never stopping you from the little 'scuffles' you had with Dagur. You have ever since he was a child and you're at least ten years his senior. Anyone else might have banished you for–"

Suddenly, he stopped and had a blank look on his face. Ansson raised a brow at the chief.

"Banished," Oswald repeated, almost absent-mindedly. "How could I never have thought of that?" A wide smile spread across Oswald's face. "I'm going to give you the opportunity to redeem yourself, Ansson. Don't take it lightly."

The other Berserker shifted in his seat. "What do ya mean?"

Flicking his hand dismissively, Oswald went towards the door. "I'll let you know later. Wouldn't want you to ruin it by accidentally telling someone."

The chief walked out of the building and Dagur stood, dumbfounded. "He's really going to try to do this." Rushing outside, the Viking went to find his past counterpart. "Oswald's planning to exile you from Berserker Island," he said once he had found the boy.

PD took a step back, stumbling a bit. "What?" he asked quietly.

FD's face showed concern. "I heard him talking to Ansson and he thinks that it's the only way to get rid of you. I don't know how Ansson is involved yet, but neither does he."

Nervousness came over PD as he asked, "What can I do? He's chief and technically has the right to do it."

Though the older Dagur had known the question was on its way, he still did not feel as though he knew the answer. "Unfortunately, I'd say continue with what you're doing. Chances are, he might get his wish, but if everyone knows that you really are trying to be here for them, Oswald might have some disagreements about his leadership decisions coming his way."

Dagur's nerves quickly turned vicious as his fists balled. "I save him from dying on an island, try to fix what happened with Heather, and he wants to banish me?!" Angrily, he paced back and forth. "By Thor, every day I wish that I had left him on Vanaheim."

He dug a knife into the wooden table. It took a bit of time for him to cool off, but he did eventually.

"When's all this happening?" PD inquired.

FD could only shrug. "He wasn't sure yet or at least didn't say so out loud. While you're out, I'll keep track of his visits with Ansson and will make sure his plan doesn't start before you know it's coming," he promised.

With a grim nod, the boy left the hut and went back out to try to find some useful activity, preferably one that involved brute force. A week, exactly, went by and each day felt like Dagur's last. It got so bad that he began disliking when he saw his future self. FD only came by to check on him when Oswald and Heather were in the Hall, but every time he approached PD, the youth thought that he was coming over to deliver the unfortunate news. Dagur was consumed by a familiar type of anxiety. It was the same that he felt when his father had left and he had to take charge of the island, complete and utter uncertainty. He hated it. Though the Berserker was confident that he could take care of himself, it was a different thing from leaving his home and maybe never being allowed to return. On that seventh day, the news came. Dagur felt a pit in his stomach, nevertheless he stood up straight and with bravado.

"What's his plan?" he asked.

FD crossed his arms over his chest. "The plan is that Ansson will pretend to be about to assassinate Oswald, then when you save him, Ansson will act like he stopped you ."

PD tilted his head. "So, his scheme relies on me being willing to save his life? That means that he thinks I'll do it." A devilish twinkle sparkled in his eyes. "Maybe I should prove him wrong."

FD stayed quiet. The smaller Dagur frowned at him.

"What? No chiding about how I can't let him get killed? It's basically assisted suicide, what he's trying to do. So what if I don't play his game? All that'll end with me as chief. Exactly what I want anyway."

His future self's face was expressionless. "Whatever you end up doing, it'll need to be your choice. I've told you all that I know, but the last action has to be something that you're genuinely fine with. Otherwise, it won't really matter."

PD sighed and exited the hut, unsure of what he might decide. He went around the island for a little while as he found more Vikings to help. Finally, Dagur made his way to the Hall and saw Ansson spotting him. With a sigh, the younger Berserker watched as Ansson pulled a crossbow, aiming it at the chief through the slightly open door. As simple as it would have been to do nothing, the ex-chief threw a knife into Ansson's hand, knocking the weapon from him.

The man let out a cry, then shouted, "Dagur's trying to assassinate the chief!"

The surrounding Berserkers turned their attention to Ansson and what he had said. They had looks of askance on their faces, conveying their confusion.

"I came by here to walk and I saw him about to throw a knife at Chief Oswald. All I could do to stop him in time was block it with my hand," Ansson claimed.

Dagur scowled. "He's lying. I was walking by and saw him with a crossbow, about to shoot. That's why there's one sprawled out on his right."

The Vikings looked at the weapon on the ground and Dagur's spirits brightened, seeing that they were believing him over the liar. Oswald and Heather heard the commotion from outside and left the Hall to see what was happening. The pair saw the crossbow and Ansson's bloody hand. Heather went to Dagur's side.

"Are you okay? What's going on?"

Oswald barely concealed his annoyance with her and spoke. "What happened was that Dagur tried to get the throne back. That's why Ansson is bloodied. He tried to stop him."

Heather glared at Oswald. "Just last week, Ansson attacked us. If someone here tried to kill you, I think he's the likely culprit."

Her father feigned sadness as he shook his head. "Alas, you are too new with knowing Dagur. This is not the first time that he chose being chief over our family, Heather."

Heather was hesitant to believe Oswald, though inquired, "What are you talking about?"

With one passing glance from Oswald to Dagur, the young Berserker knew what he was about to say. His face turned ashen as the chief began to speak.

"After we lost your mother, I decided that you should be chief instead of Dagur."

Eyes narrowing, he glared at the Viking. The boy's face pleaded with him to stop, but Oswald continued.

"When I told him of this new arrangement, he was furious and stormed out." A sad sigh resonated from the man. "The next thing I knew, you had been sent off of the island on a boat." He let a tear slide down his face. "I thought that I would never see you again, Heather. All because he wanted you out of the way so that he could be chief."

Dagur's blood boiled. "That is not what happened. Yes, I was upset about not being chief anymore, but I'd never try to get rid of you. It was almost a month later that you were lost and it wasn't because I sent you adrift. I knew how much you liked the water, so I was making you a boat that you could use to start learning how to sail."

Heather looked at him. "I was a baby. How would I start sailing?" she questioned, temper rising.

Her brother said sheepishly, "It made more sense at the time."

Oswald chimed in, "You'd be surprised by how many things 'make sense' to Dagur. Ask your new friends on Berk. They can tell you how he interprets companionship. Thrown knives, being shoved into a cage and fed rotten cod heads. These are just examples of the horrors your brother has made others suffer," Oswald hissed.

Heather eyed Dagur suspiciously. "Is this true?"

Shamefully, he nodded. "I can't explain it, but it all seemed fine at the time."

A second passed before Heather walked over to Oswald, then turned back to face Dagur. The chief fought a grin.

"You're just too unstable, Dagur. As far as we know, you thought that Ansson was trying to kill me just as a way to cope with what you were planning. You need to leave Berserker Island. You can't be trusted. You're crazy."

The boy's risen spirits sank to the core of the earth. "Heather, I promise you that I tried to keep you and that I didn't try to kill Dad," he said desperately. "I can deal with leaving the island, but not losing you again."

His sister had a cold frown on her face. "I never would have been separated from my family if it weren't for you," she realized. "I think that Dad's right. It's too risky to have someone with your skills and instability on the island."

Dagur took a step forward. "Heather–"

She turned and walked away before he could say anything more. Oswald stood between the siblings, his expression a harsh stare. The stare softened and a smile tugged at the edges of his mouth. He mouthed the words, "I win," and glanced at the Berserker guards.

"You may leave by your own accord or by our persuasion."

If Dagur had cared enough to notice the faces of the Vikings, he would have felt a bit of solace in seeing that Herald and Vorg looked as disappointed in him leaving as he was. The boy went back to his hut and grabbed his prepared bag of belongings. He wanted to say goodbye to Heather, but could see that she wanted nothing to do with him. Her parents were more forgiving and wished him a safe trip, wherever he went. Along with his future self, the Berserker put everything into a medium-sized ship, like the one that he had traveled to Vanaheim in, and sailed away. As Berserker Island faded out of sight, a lump formed in the boy's throat.

"This isn't the future you're trying to avoid, is it?" he asked hopelessly.

FD shook his head. "Not by a long shot."

PD let out a scornful laugh. "Hard to imagine it getting much worse than this, but I guess it's possible." He started sharpening a knife, just to stop, annoyed with everything. "What do I do now?" was all he could ask.

FD stood to look at the open seas. "Right now, what you could use is a friend. Someone that's loyal almost to a fault and there's only one thing available that can fill those requirements." He offered up an encouraging smile. "Are you ready to become a dragon rider?"