The two Vikings were at a standstill. With her weapon pointed at the Berserker, the girl eyed him.
"You do not appear as the other hunters do," she noted. "You dress differently and the dragon stands at your side without a snarl on his face."
Dagur gave a quick nod. "That's because I'm not one. I just finished taking out some hunters like you did." He glanced down at the bodies on the ground. "Nice job by the way."
A small grin found its way to the other Viking's face. "It is clear that I am on the side of the dragons, however, I will need to see the hunters that you vanquished in order to be sure that you are, in fact, against them," she said.
Dagur shrugged. "That's fair, I guess." With a grin, he gestured to where the hunters laid. "Right this way."
The pair found the bloodied bodies and the blonde sheathed her sword. "Apparently you are enemies of the hunters which makes you an ally of mine." She extended her hand. "I am Princess Mala."
The Berserker shook it. "I'm Dagur the Deranged."
Mala's brow rose. "'The Deranged?' Is that included in your name?"
Dagur looked offended. "Well, not originally, but I added it later." He brought back his hand. "What's the matter with it?"
Mala shook her head. "Nothing is wrong, but I am not sure if it suits you. Though, I suppose that it does create a smooth flow, Dagur the Deranged."
Dagur smirked and looked at the Triple Stryke again. At a closer glance, he saw that the reptile was wounded. The edges of his mouth curved downwards and he gently patted the dragon's head.
"He'll need some medical attention," the boy noted.
Quickly, Dagur went to the coast of the island and halted, frowning. Mala had followed him and stopped as well. There had been more hunters than Dagur had previously thought and they had destroyed his ship. Going to the vessel, the Berserker began inspecting for anything that was unbroken.
"I have a ship. And medicine," Mala offered. "We can bring the Triple Stryke back to my island, treat him with the proper care, and provide you with a vessel."
The Berserker's eyes lit up. "Thanks! That sounds great."
They speedily went to make sure that Mala's boat was still intact and then went to fetch the dragon. It was appearing stressed and Mala carefully walked up, feeding it some fruit. Immediately, the reptile calmed down and laid on the grass.
"Cool fruit," Dagur commented.
Mala smiled, then folded her arms. "The only issue will be getting him onto the ship."
Her companion shook his head and traveled to the dragon's side, carefully helping him stand.
"Come on, little buddy. Gotta work with us," he instructed.
Gingerly, the Triple Stryke rose, leaning more so on the Viking than his own legs, and began walking towards the ship. Shortly, he was placed on board and his wounds were bandaged.
"I have heard that Triple Strykes are quite heavy," Mala mentioned, impressed. "It must have been difficult to be gentle as well."
"Nothing too bad," Dagur stated.
He looked up from the dragon and at the sails of the vessel. On the sails, there was an insignia that was unfamiliar to the Berserker.
"Where is your island?" he asked.
Mala went to the helm of the ship. "Defenders of the Wing Island."
The boy tilted his head. "I've heard a bit about your island but not very much. How come you guys stay so discreet?"
Giving a small shrug, Mala answered, "I suppose that it is because we have always kept to ourselves. Whenever we do leave, it is normally to go to a market or to find injured dragons."
Dagur nodded and the princess peeked over at him.
"And what of your residency?" she inquired.
Dagur frowned a little at the question. "I'm from Berserker Island," he told her.
Curiosity still had a hold on Mala as she continued to speak. "If I am not mistaken, you have the markings of a chief?"
Tensing up slightly, Dagur bobbed his head. "Yep."
"But you are very young to be a chief," she noticed. "Even though I am next in line, I still have to wait."
The Berserker leaned against the side of the ship. "The circumstances were weird, but I got the position earlier than most."
Dagur laughed as he thought of the first time that he rehearsed telling his Vikings that he was their chief. He had been so nervous and ended up coming across far more aggressive than he had actually intended to. After laughing, he naturally glanced at Mala, expecting an expression of uncomfortability. When none appeared, he smiled.
The pair and Triple Stryke had a relatively short voyage. All the while, the two youths talked. FD just grinned as he watched and listened to them. When they docked at Defenders of the Wing Island, pD helped the dragon get to his feet and descend off of the boat. Dagur noticed the peculiar looks that he was receiving from the Defenders, but understood their surprise and kept going with the reptile. Mala led him to the healing center and once Strykie was settled in, Defenders swarmed over to apply first aid to him.
"You weren't kidding," Dagur chuckled, happily surprised. "You all really are used to helping injured dragons." His eyes traced over the supplies that they used. "You've got everything from Willow Bark to Fire Fern."
The sounds of footsteps brought the attention of the two to another person. A tall Viking with a reddish-brown ponytail rushed over to them and bowed to Mala. FD let out a quiet chuckle.
"Princess, where have you been?" the ponytailed Viking asked.
"I was looking for new dragons," Mala explained.
Standing back up, the older boy gave Dagur a skeptical look. Mala gestured to the Berserker.
"This is Dagur the Deranged. He and I defeated a group of dragon hunters that were attacking this poor Triple Stryke." She turned to Dagur. "And this is Throk, he is to be the head of the royal guards."
Throk nearly blushed. "Well, I am just in training as of now. I was told to find you, Princess Mala. The king and queen wish to speak with you."
Mala thanked him for the information and went to find her parents. When she left, Throk eyed Dagur.
"You are Dagur the Deranged ?" he questioned.
Though realizing that his nickname was not getting the reaction that he had initially hoped it would, Dagur confirmed what the guard-to-be asked.
"My job is to protect the royal family. If in a bout of insanity you harm one of them–"
The Berserker shut that down. "I get why you're concerned, but I didn't show up here to come after any of you. My ship just got messed up and Mala said I could take one of hers."
This satisfied the other Viking. He was silent for a couple of moments before starting back up.
"Is it true that you aided her in fighting off hunters?" he inquired.
"There had to have been several dozen that tried to kill us," Dagur stated.
Throk smiled. "I can respect anyone who wins to ensure the safety of a dragon."
As the two spoke, Mala found the king and queen out watching the guard trainees.
"I heard that you wanted to speak with me," the princess said. "What is the matter?"
Concern was on her face and the queen gave her a reassuring smile. "Nothing is wrong , but we became worried when we did not see you this morning."
The king agreed. "Mainly, we wanted to tell you to let us know you are searching for injured dragons before you leave. When you go off first, we are unsure whether or not something has happened to you."
Mala nodded. "I'm sorry. I will inform you prior to me leaving next time."
Her parents smiled and glanced back at the trainees who were attacking life-sized dummies.
"There is something that I want to inform you of now," the young Viking stated. The royals turned to her. "I brought someone back with me," Mala said, immediately seeing the widening eyes of her mother and father. "He was trying to help a dragon as well and was quite useful in transporting the Triple Stryke we now have in the infirmary."
The queen and king were quiet for a moment. "Who is this viking?" Mala's mother asked.
"A Berserker chief. His name is Dagur the Deranged," the girl told them.
The royal parents looked uncertain about the situation.
"Where is the chief now?" Mala's father inquired.
"He and Throk are speaking by the healing center."
Her parents went towards the location and saw their future guard and the Berserker talking. Brows raising, they noticed how uncharacteristically relaxed Throk seemed to be. Dagur noticed the family approaching first and signaled with his eyes to Throk that they were behind him. Turning, the Defender bowed deeply.
"My lieges," he greeted.
They smiled, though it did not last as they looked at the stranger.
" You are the Berserker chief?" the queen questioned doubtfully.
Dagur let out a soft sigh. "I was," he confirmed.
"Rather young, yes?" the king asked, more to himself than the other Viking.
"Kind of," Dagur admitted. He thought of his way off the island. "I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to let me use one of your ships to leave. Mine got destroyed in the hunters' attack."
The royals nodded. "We heard," said the queen. "You are welcome to take one of ours." She looked at the darkening sky. "But it is growing quite late and Berserker Island could not be too close. If you wish, you could stay here for the evening and leave tomorrow."
That idea sounded best to Dagur. Especially because Strykie was still injured. He agreed to the plan and thanked the couple before Mala went over to him.
"While you are here, I can give you a tour," she suggested, leading him with her arm wrapped around his.
They walked everywhere on the island. Halfway through, Mala mentioned, "You said that you were chief. What happened?"
The boy bit his lip. "I guess you could say that I was acting chief, but it was just temporary." He changed the subject. "I'm hoping that Strykie's feeling better soon so that he can fly. It'll be cool to learn how to ride on him."
The princess appeared horrified. "What? Dragons are not meant to be ridden," she said, becoming upset.
"If he really refuses to learn how, I won't push it too much, but it's worth a shot."
Mala still was unconvinced. "It would be to disrespect dragons, to ride on them."
Dagur made a face. "Gotta lighten up, Mala and be creative. Imagine the world over the ground."
He pointed a far distance away at the ocean. She followed his gaze.
"You could ride so much higher up. You'd be able to see things you couldn't even dream of. You can't tell me that you'd never want to try that out."
The Berserker could see that Mala was thinking about flight, despite not wishing to visibly show her consideration on the matter. Dagur smirked.
"You also can't tell me that you won't ever want to be lifted off of the grass and just float."
As he spoke, the Berserker scooped Mala up from the legs and held her in a bridal position. The two looked at one another, their faces close. A slight blush went over Dagur's cheeks as he put her back down.
"Sorry," he said. "Guess I got caught up in what I was saying."
Mala ran a hand over her hair to pull notice away from her own reddening cheeks. "Well, I suppose we should not make a habit of that," she said briskly. The princess glanced back at Dagur. "Is it necessary that you return to Berserker Island soon? I was thinking that maybe you could stay a little while longer...just to make sure that the Triple Stryke is fine. Perhaps, he will let you ride on his back."
Dagur grinned. "I don't have any place to be. I definitely can stay."
Containing her unexplainable excitement, Mala nodded her head. "Very well. I should show you to your hut so that you might make yourself comfortable."
They went into the village and Mala showed Dagur a nice-sized hut.
"This is nice," he commented. Another short lapse of silence followed and the Berserker awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, thanks again for letting me stay here. Seriously."
"Think nothing of it," the Defender said, slowly beginning to walk away.
Dagur tapped his foot. "You know," he began, catching Mala prior to her being out of earshot, "if you don't have many plans for tomorrow, I don't either. Not sure what we'd do, but maybe we could hang out again?"
A smile formed on Mala's face, then she calmed her expression as she turned back around to face him. "I would enjoy that. Have a good evening," she said regally.
The Berserker entered the hut, beaming so much that he did not even observe fD's large smile. The next day on Berserker Island, Oswald and Heather were enjoying breakfast when a knock sounded on the door. The father went to answer it and saw Captain Vorg.
"Chief, the Viking from before on the docks has returned to speak with you again. I tried to dissuade him, but he was very adamant that he needed to speak with you."
Oswald sighed and thanked the captain for the information. "Excuse me, Heather. It appears as though I will have to deal with someone this morning."
Irritably, the chief left his home and went to the docks. He brushed past the Viking who had asked to speak with him before, opening the door to another building.
"If you wish to speak, let's talk in there," he stated.
The large newcomer grunted and entered.
"So, why did you come back?" Oswald questioned impatiently.
The other man glared. "You broke our deal," he accused.
Oswald's brow rose. "I did nothing of the sort. Ask anyone, no one has left this island except to go fishing."
Furiously, the other man slammed down a piece of a torn sail onto the table. " This was found at the scene where dozens of my Vikings were killed. It's from a Berserker ship, so don't pretend you weren't there."
Oswald looked at the strip of sail and heaved a deep breath. "I was not there nor were any of my people, but I know who was."
He received a glare from his company.
"You better fix this or else I'll consider it as a revoked deal and I doubt you'd want that."
The chief's demeanor turned deadly. "This is my island, Ryker, and I don't take kindly to threats. I only made a deal with you since I have no reason to oppose you as it is and don't want your thugs trying to get in the way of the peace that we've had for so long. I'll deal with this issue but for a reason other than your order. If you have a problem with that, we can resolve it in the arena."
The hunter and chief stared each other down, though the chief outlasted the other man.
"Fine," Ryker consented. "Don't care how or why you get rid of this issue as long as it gets done."
He left the hut and made his way back to his ship. Frowning after him, Oswald found Heather.
"Sweetie," he called, "I need to make a quick voyage, but I'll be back."
Before Heather could ask any questions, her father was getting onto a ship and setting sail. While the chief sailed, Dagur and Mala were tending to Strykie. The princess patted the dragon's head.
"Are you looking forward to being queen?" the Berserker asked.
Mala pursed her lips. "I am not sure. Part of me is excited to lead and yet another part is worried that I will not do well. Were you anxious before becoming chief?"
Dagur let out a quick laugh. "Totally. I don't even think anxious is the right word to describe it. I was having a meltdown."
"As leader, all responsibilities fall to you. How did you become more comfortable with them?" Mala inquired.
Dagur sat down by Strykie. "Just time really. The more I did, the more natural it felt." He smirked. "But you should've seen me when I first started. I wanted respect so badly that I settled for my Vikings fearing me too."
The princess tilted her head. "Deranged, to be feared, you simply do not seem so bad to me," she divulged. "I have seen our own subjects treat dragons with less compassion that you have between this day and the last. Perhaps, your Berserkers were too hasty in your judgment. If dragons judge you well, I must concur."
Laughing, the Berserker gave the dragon a grateful smile. "Well, thanks for the good judgment, Strykie."
Mala joined in on the chuckling. The day was a peaceful one. Mala and Dagur went around the island and spoke about leadership and the challenges that arose with the position. Everything was seeming fine, but Strykie was healing faster than expected. Though both of the youths were happy about the Triple Stryke's health, they knew that it meant that Dagur would be leaving soon. That evening, the Berserker was pensive.
"What's on your mind?" fD asked.
"Don't you already know the answer?" pD retorted.
"Yeah, but I figured you could use a more normal sounding conversation," fD replied back.
PD sighed. "If nothing changes, Strykie will be all set to go by tomorrow and for some reason, I'm not ready yet." He frowned. "There's something about Mala that I really like. I don't know why, but I want to stay here longer and get to know her more. It's been surprisingly great." Noticing fD's smile, pF asked, "Are we together in the future? Nevermind, I know you won't say anything."
FD laughed. "Just ask to stay longer. From what I've seen, Mala's no more excited for your departure date than you are."
PD thought about it. "Maybe. I don't want to overstay my welcome and I doubt that the king and queen would appreciate me leaving with Mala."
The future Dagur chuckled. "I'd agree with you there. If the situation today flows into you staying, bring it up."
PD gave a small nod and went to his room. When morning came, the Dagurs went down to the healing center to check on their dragon. He was completely healed and nuzzled his head against Dagur's hand.
"Hey, pal," the Berserker greeted. "Feeling better, huh?"
In reply, Strykie did a spin in the air. When the reptile landed, he raised his tail over Dagur's head and looked at him expectantly. The boy's face lit up and he grabbed hold of the tail, being lifted onto Strykie's back with a gleeful laugh.
"Okay! Now, how do I do this?" he asked his older self.
"Keep holding onto his horns, but just tightly enough to not fall off. You're going to have to work with Strykie. If he's going right, trust him and don't try to pull another direction. That's a start," fD instructed.
Strykie carefully flew upwards, cautious of the rider on him. The duo did a few rounds around the island and returned to the center. When they got back, they saw that Mala was exiting. She stopped, hearing them. Her eyes widened when she turned, then she smiled.
"I suppose that Strykie has agreed to your plans?"
She received an elated nod in response. "It's so much fun! Want to come along?" Dagur offered.
So much of Mala was trying to convince her to stay, but she walked up and accepted the outstretched hand. Dagur pulled her up behind him.
"You might want to hold on," he suggested.
Timidly, Mala wrapped her arms around him and the trio went airborne. The princess held on tighter and buried her face in the Berserker's back.
"It's all right. The takeoff is the worst part," Dagur assured her, gently holding her hand. Once they had been in the sky for a bit, he said, "Look up."
Mala hesitantly did and saw her island in a way that she never had before. All her subjects and the dragons were visible. It was beautiful.
"I've never imagined how different it could appear," she admitted.
They flew for a while longer before finally going back. Dagur hopped off of Strykie and helped Mala down, lifting her by the waist. Her joyful expression turned morose.
"Does this mean that you will leave?" she asked.
The Berserker glanced around them. "If I'm being honest, I don't really want to."
Mala beamed. "Then you are welcome to stay." Her face dropped once more. "Though, surely your Berserkers will need you. Even if you are no longer chief, I believe your tribe would suffer without you."
Dagur was about to tell her that the issue of him returning was a non-factor when a Terrible Terror flew over to them.
"Peculiar," Mala noted, observing the piece of paper attached to its horn.
"Not so much. My friend started this dragon messaging system," Dagur mentioned.
He took the letter and unfolded the scroll. His face paled as he read and he jumped back onto Strykie's back.
"What happened?" Mala asked quickly.
"Berserker Island got attacked yesterday. I need to make sure my family's–" he stopped, looking at Mala. "I'll be back after we rebuild with hopefully good news."
"Good luck," she wished him sincerely.
The Viking and dragon took to the sky.
"Something's off," fD said. "I don't remember there being any attack. "He looked at the note. "This is in Dad's hand, but how did he get to a Terrible Terror?"
PD shrugged. "Probably just caught one that was on the island."
FD shook his head. "Dragons can't land on every part of the island."
He got side-eyed by his younger self. "Why not?"
"There's this dragon that lives in the center of the island. It messes with the minds of the other dragons to protect itself. Unless Oswald was standing on the top of the island, something he wouldn't have known to do, there's no way that he could have gotten this on a Terrible Terror."
The boy frowned in concern. "But what if there really was an attack? I can't risk it. Heather could be hurt or worse. I need to make sure she's okay."
They flew closer to Berserker Island and were about to approach the docks when they heard roars. Several Whispering Deaths were behind them.
"Turn right," fD instructed.
PD had Strykie turn before going closer to Berserker Island. The Triple Stryke blasted at the other dragons and flew past them. Going further, they saw ships. A net was catapulted at the dragon and he cut it with his claws, going through. Arrows were blasted at the two, the Whispering Death numbers increased, and boulders and nets were catapulted. Strykie began to tire out and there was nowhere to go. Even the Vikings themselves were well-guarded against any and all thrown blades, wearing full-body armor. Eventually, a net shot them out of the sky and they fell into the ocean. Dagur cut the ropes around them and they tried to go back to the surface. As they began to emerge, a boulder knocked into them. Strykie was knocked unconscious and Dagur started dragging him up to prevent him from drowning. Painfully, he brought him out of the water and managed to get the dragon to land. Hiding him between rocks and bushes, the exhausted Berserker turned to his older counterpart.
"I can't fight off a whole fleet," he admitted, looking at his new reptilian friend. "The most I can do is draw their fire away from Strykie so at least one of us can get out."
FD looked around them. "You'll need more ammo than what you've got. Over there," he pointed. "Collect some of the rocks."
PD gathered the items and left Strykie's side. A ship came close to the island and Dagur threw a rock onto the deck from the backside.
"They're over there!" a Viking called, going to the wrong spot.
Dagur sensed someone behind him and moved in time to avoid an arrow. An onslaught of them were fired and he took cover behind a boulder. The ground beneath him crumbled as Whispering Deaths burrowed and the boy dug a knife into the dirt, clinging onto it to prevent falling into the dragons' open mouths. A mild sting in his back let him know that he had been shot by an arrow. Grogginess came over him, but he still clung to the small amount of remaining ground around him. He felt someone peering down over top of him and a rough hand grabbed him by the throat. The Berserker was lifted back onto solid ground and thrown over to a group of Vikings who forced him down to his knees. He tried to rise and fight them, combatting the tranquilizer as well. When he did, the man that had tossed him clubbed him in the side.