For the rest of the day, Oswald stayed in his room. He was too embarrassed to see his daughter's face. The man needed to compose himself. That evening, he was satisfied that he had and left his room to greet Heather. The young woman was preparing a meal and smiled at him.

"You worried me," she said, setting a plate down for him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to do that."

Oswald sat down and thanked the brunette for dinner.

"How are you feeling now?"

"I'm fine. It's passed." The man paused and began frowning. "Do you remember how old you were when we had your birthday celebration on the ship?"

Heather shook her head. "I don't. Maybe I was twelve."

"Twelve, that sounds about right." Oswald chuckled. "Right before your teenage years. I suppose that I wanted it to be our last hurrah for a while."

Heather chuckled with him. "I don't think I was that bad as a teenager."

Her father considered this. "No, you were your normal caring self." He hesitated as he began frowning again. "I don't remember any arguments we had during those years. I had heard from many other parents that teenagers could be handfuls, but I guess that you surprised me by not being one. I do not even remember you going on any dates. Did you?"

The rider shook her head. "I really didn't start seeing anyone until recently."

"Oh? Who?"

"Fishlegs."

Oswald smiled. "He was always a kind lad." His smile became sad. "I am sorry, Heather. I can't seem to remember anything about you as a teenager. I'm not sure why. Only a terrible father would forget so many years of his child's life."

Heather went over to him with a reassuring expression. "You're not a terrible father. My teenage years were just mostly uneventful. That doesn't mean that we didn't have a nice time, though." After a brief pause, she started up again. "This one time, you took me with you to go fishing."

Hearing the door open, Heather saw that Dagur had entered. It made her feel slightly guilty, but she continued.

"I told you that I thought we'd only be able to catch eels, but you insisted that we'd catch some pike. Well, four hours later, we had three buckets of eels. I was ready to tell you that I had told you so, but we almost got knocked over. A Scrauldron had seen us and was about to attack. I thought that we were going to die, but you threw two buckets of eels at it which scared it away. So, I suddenly wasn't so upset at having gotten so many."

Oswald laughed and put a hand over his mouth. "I think I am starting to recall that. It was a fun day even if the meal afterwards was not as delicious as it would have been with pike. We got some regular fish the next time at least."

"We did and we didn't even have to fight any Scauldrons, so it was altogether a better time."

Oswald had a happy smile on his face and let out a yawn. "I apologize for not being around as much today. I promise to make up for it in the morning."

"You're fine. As long as you're okay, I'm happy."

The older Berserker held her hand. "And there are many more days ahead of us now. Sleep well, sweetheart."

Oswald kissed Heather's forehead and she wished him good night as well. He started going to his room before stopping as he heard another voice.

"Good night, Dad."

"Good night, Dagur.

When the door to Oswald's bedroom was closed, Dagur sighed. Then, he turned to look at his sister curiously.

"Did you just come up with that?"

"No actually. It's something I did with my other dad."

The chief's face took on a look of regret. "Oh, sorry for asking."

"It's all right." Heather looked at the door for a moment. "It's getting easier to lie to him. Should I be worried?"

Dagur chuckled softly. "Well, I don't think you'll be turning into a supervillain before the week's up. If you do, I'm sure the other riders and I could stop you. I already know Windshear's weak spot," he said with a mischievous wink.

Heather smirked. "Where have you been all day? It seemed like you both were hiding from me."

"I was trying to keep an eye on things to make sure the Flyers didn't encroach on our territory. I set up some traps for them too, so if they come back, they'll regret it."

The dark-haired Berserker nodded, then had an unsure look on her face. "Dad mentioned that he found out about your prison time."

"Yeah, he was as happy as I expected."

"In his defense, it's understandable that he wasn't. He was probably just worried about you."

"He practically told me to just be an adult about it and turn myself in."

Heather stopped talking, expression becoming thoughtful. Dagur saw this and regarded her in confusion.

"What?"

"Why do you never talk about it?"

The question surprised the redhead and he was quiet as she continued to talk.

"It's like those years didn't exist. Even the other Berserkers who were there don't talk about it."

Dagur's face clouded over. "It's not a time we like to reflect back on. We agreed that what happened would never leave the prison."

"It doesn't have to be a secret."

"It's like I told you before, I don't like talking about stuff like this. We were there, it sucked, and we're out now. Nothing more needs to be said about it than that."

Concern was evident in the rider's eyes. "Did our people get hurt? I know Alvin can be ruthless."

The chief frowned. "One got punched and lost a tooth. I didn't let it get worse than that."

"You took the punishment for them."

Dagur made no effort to agree or disagree, frown becoming deeper.

"Is that why you can't sleep at night?" Heather asked. "You have nightmares about it?"

The older Berserker's expression became unreadable as he stayed quiet. Finally, he responded, "About what I did afterwards too." Brightening, he gestured to the outside. "If any more of those Flyers come by, we'll be able to take them down. I'm going to check on the traps now to be sure about it."

Heather could say nothing else before the young man was gone. She had too many questions. Dagur could not answer hers and their father's in the span of one day. He doubted he would ever answer hers. There was no reason to. Dagur felt he owed Heather many things for what he had done to her village, but details of his past were excluded in that. The Berserker went to one of the traps to wait and meditate. He did it more efficiently than in the cave, but it was interrupted like the last time. Dagur heard a dragon and a signal from one of the watchtowers. A Flyer had been spotted. Taking out his spyglass, the chief saw the Viking on the Singetail.

"Do we engage?" a soldier asked, readying a catapult with a boulder.

"Not with that in case you hit the dragon. Use a net to launch."

Having heard the signal, Heather started to approach the group and saw the intruder. She had to move as Berserkers were rushing back and forth, some boarding a small vessel. They lined up the catapult and waited on the signal. Dagur eyed the position of the Flyer and the catapult with his spyglass, gesturing for the launcher to be moved to the shooter's left.

"Fire!" he commanded.

The net shot out of the catapult, forcing the dragon and Viking forward. When this happened, the Flyer's attention was shifted and he did not notice as another launcher fired from the mainland. A blade went into his shoulder, then he fell off the Singetail and into the water. The Berserkers on the ship hauled him onto the vessel as the dragon flew free. When the Flyer was brought to the land, Dagur scowled at him.

"Why have you been sneaking around here?"

The Flyer did not say anything.

"I might be more merciful if you give us some useful information."

When the chief was met with more silence, he gestured to some Berserkers. "He can go to our prison and decide if he wants to get some points for good behavior later."

The Flyer scowled at him as he was taken away by the other Vikings.

"What do we do if he never tells us?" Vorg asked.

"Then, we're in the same boat as we are right now. Things only change if he talks."

Nodding, the soldier went off with the rest to lock up the prisoner. Heather watched the Flyer being dragged off and looked at her brother.

"What's going to happen to him?" she asked quietly.

Dagur lifted an eyebrow at her. "He's going to stay in prison."

"You're not going to…"

The chief's eyes widened. "No. I mean, before, I definitely would've tortured him. The things I'd have come up with…" Dagur put a hand over his mouth, lost in thought.

"Dagur," Heather said, getting his attention.

"They wouldn't have been pretty, but I'm not going to do that or let anyone else do it. He'll really just be a prisoner. That's bad enough. The rest isn't necessary."

Feeling better, Heather returned to the hut. In the morning, she went down to see how everything was going in the village. Before long, she saw Oswald. He waved to her and approached.

"How's it going?" he asked. "Things seem busy today."

"They are. We caught a Flyer last night."

The former chief's eyes widened. "You did?"

Heather nodded, brows pinching together. "He won't talk, but he's here at least and his dragon is free now. I just wish we knew why they had come here. More will probably be on the way." She let out a soft sigh. "But there's nothing we can do about that for now. What do you want to do today?"

"Did you want to go sailing again? It would give us a moment away from all this."

"I was going to try to stay close in case Dagur or the others needed any help."

Oswald flicked his wrist. "They caught the Flyer. I'm sure they can handle him as a prisoner. A few hours without you will not do much harm. It'll be good for you to be able to clear your mind. You might even return with ideas for making him talk."

Convinced, Heather nodded. "All right. Did you want to go anywhere special?"

The man smiled. "There's an island not far from here that I loved visiting. It's been so long since I've gone that I'd like to go again if you're fine with that."

"Of course! It would be fun to see it with you."

Happily, the pair of Vikings headed down to the docks. They boarded the ship and Heather hoisted the main sail, watching as Oswald went to the helm. A calm expression was on his face.

"I was thinking more about that fishing trip. We should do something like that again," he commented.

"I would really like that, Dad."

"Ideally, we will neither catch nor need eels."

Heather chuckled and agreed, looking out at the water. "Does this island have special dragons?"

"They are not as varied as those on Vanaheim, but it's still fun. There are Fireworms and Gronckles mainly. I took Dagur when he was fifteen."

"Did he like it?"

Oswald nodded happily. "He loved it. That was a fun day. He suggested that we go sailing and I had found this place a little while earlier, so I was happy to take him with me that time. We talked and laughed the whole way. When we docked, we began to study the dragons."

Heather smiled, but she was not sure how much of her father's words were reliable. Still, she enjoyed believing him. Before too much time had passed, they docked. Heather started to walk onto the island, looking at the tall trees and rocky shore. Oswald disembarked with her and had an expression of remembrance on his face.

"I used to love it here so much," he admitted. "I hope that you will too."

The rider was about to assure him that she was certain she would when she heard the sound of a dragon roaring. It sounded like the animal was in distress. Tensing, Heather looked around where they were. Oswald also became tense and tried to take in their surroundings.

"There have never been Grim Gnashers here. I cannot think of other dragons that would attack the reptiles."

"I don't think dragons are doing it," Heather stated, eyes traveling to something in the distance which was moving. "There are Dragon Hunters here."

"Dragon Hunters?" Oswald asked, whispering. "Are they like the Flyers?"

"They work together. Instead of being in the sky, they use dragon root arrows and traps to capture dragons and sell them in auctions or use in fights."

The man glared into the thicket. "Then, we'll stop them."

The Berserker started walking and Heather quickly went in front of him to stop him. "Woah, Dad. We can stop them, but they don't travel in small groups. If we go right now with just the two of us, we'll lose." She sighed. "And we didn't tell anyone where we were going, so they wouldn't even know where to begin looking."

"Surely, we can't just leave the dragons."

"We can sabotage the ships," Heather offered. "That way, the Hunters won't be able to leave."

Oswald nodded. "Then, I'll handle that and draw their attention while you free the dragons." He saw a surprised look on Heather's face. "What?"

"Nothing. I just…Dagur did something like that for Hiccup and me. I guess, it's just fun seeing similarities between you two."

With a small smile, Oswald began heading off to the other side of the coast, searching for ships. As soon as he found them, he boarded and destroyed the helm. Taking out a blade, he sliced the sail, then started looking around for what else was there. He needed something loud and distracting. With a twinkle in his eyes, Oswald found barrels of blasting jelly. The man moved several close together, then went to the lower compartments to find supplies. To his relief, he found arrows. Oswald took one before going back to the deck and stabbing it into the barrel in the center. Going to the land again, he found some stones. The Berserker returned to the deck so that he could create a spark. He aimed the stones, making them put the spark on the end of the arrow. As the flame moved upwards on the arrow and towards the barrel, Oswald started running down the ramp. He got to the sand just as the barrels exploded.

While Oswald was destroying the ships, Heather was hunting for the Hunters. She saw several, but they were not with any dragons, so she kept going. Finally, she spotted some Gronckles in traps. They were surrounded by Hunters. When the Vikings heard the sound of their ship going up in flames, they ran off to see what had happened. Heather waited for them to leave, then hurried over to the dragons. The Gronckles growled at her before realizing that she was freeing them. Then, they let out grateful roars and flew off into the sky.

"Nice job, Dad," Heather said quietly, smiling at the dragons' escape.

The Berserker started heading back to where she and her father had left their ship when she paused. Her gaze had moved to a tree with words carved into its trunk.

"Just a phase," the message said.

Heather frowned in confusion, then continued on her way to the ship. Oswald was there waiting, wearing a thrilled grin.

"That was the most fun I've had in years! We should go Dragon Hunter hunting more often," he said.

"That really was great. Maybe we could even get you your own dragon."

"I would love that! I'll admit that I probably still would prefer being on the water than in the sky."

"That's fair. It definitely takes time to adjust."

"And the ocean is just so enchanting."

Heather nodded and boarded the ship. "We should head back so that we can tell the others that we saw the Hunters out this way. This is closer to our island than they normally are."

Oswald nodded but seemed slightly disappointed as he went up the ramp. They continued sailing as he asked more questions about the Dragon Hunters to better understand the threat they posed. When they docked back home, Oswald did not get off the vessel with Heather.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine. Go and let everyone know what we found. I just want to stay here a little while longer."

Unsurely, Heather left her father and went to find Dagur. He was grumbling and on his way out of the prison. When he saw his sister, his scowl faded.

"Hey, you and Dad went sailing again?"

"Yeah, and we found some Dragon Hunters. We were able to free the dragons and mess up their ships, but there might be more who'll see a distress signal from them." Heather's expression became concerned. "They weren't very far from us."

"Which island did you go to?"

"It was one with Fireworms and Gronckles."

Dagur's eyebrows lifted. "They really weren't far."

"You have been there then?"

"Once."

"Dad said he took you. Was he remembering correctly?"

Dagur hesitated. "It depends what all he said, but he's right that he took me."

"Well, he said you were fifteen and had fun studying the dragons after you came up with the idea to go."

The redhead sighed. "I'm not really surprised that's what he remembered."

"So, it's not what happened?"

"No, but hardly anything he thinks right now is."

"What was that day actually like?"

Dagur frowned. "It was nothing worth remembering. I get why he forgot."

"Did you forget too?"

"No, but I get why he would now at least."

Heather paused for a moment. "I saw a carving on a tree. Did you put it there? It said 'Just a phase.'"

A faraway look appeared in the other Berserker's eyes. "Yeah, I did."

"Why?"

Dagur let out a half-hearted laugh. "You and Dad have a lot of questions these past couple of days."

"We just want to understand more of what went on here."

The chief took a breath. "It was a bad day. Dad was exhausted; I was exhausting. It wasn't a great combination. I'd been getting into trouble all week for one reason or another. When he finally had enough, he said he was taking me to an island. I don't know why exactly, but I kept laughing on the way there. It was annoying him, so I tried to shut up, but it didn't work very well. When we docked, he told me that some Vikings used heat to calm their minds. That's why he wanted me to go there. With all the Fireworms, I'd be able to have a clear head if I kept them on my arms and stomach."

In shock, Heather looked towards the docks, then back at her brother. "He wanted you to keep Fireworms on you?"

"Yeah."

"Did you?"

"He said it would help, so I tried." The Berserkers shuddered. "I don't like the tiny dragons. They're all crawly. Little suckers earned their name well. After a few dozen heat blisters, I shook them off and smashed them with my boot." Dagur's eyes lowered. "Dad yelled at me for not trying harder to be better for the tribe. I had a chance to improve and that was my response–more violence. So, we argued for a bit, each said some colorful things, and it ended with him making me carve those words you found into the tree." He laughed. "I like the version he told you better too. Sounds like it would've been fun. He never let me join him on his voyages, so for the first time to have really just been to hang out, it would've been great."

Heather had a troubled look on her face. She was about to ask a question when Dagur started walking back into the prison.

"You're going back in there already?"

"Yeah, with that information, maybe I can push something out of him. I want to know why those Hunters were so close to us. Thanks for letting me know."

Dagur reentered the prison and walked up to the cell with the captive. The Flyer snarled at him.

"I heard how you got information by choking out that one Hunter. I'm not telling you anything."

"Your tune might change when you realize that no one's coming for you." Dagur crossed his arms. "I was on your side for a little while. I might not know a whole lot about Flyers, but I know how the Hunters operate. It's all for none. The second there's a problem, they turn on each other. Krogan doesn't strike me as the sentimental type, so I doubt he's much nicer. Are you really going to keep this secret for people who are going to leave you at our mercy?"

"If I say anything, I'm as good as dead."

"Your jailer is Dagur the Deranged. Death is an improvement."

This made the other man turn pale, but after a few moments, his face regained its color and he spat at the Berserker's feet. Dagur scrunched up his face in disgust.

"You're not the same Viking anymore. If the Berserker who worked with the Hunters or who was going after the Berkians had caught me, I'd have told you everything you wanted to know. You're weak now that you became a dragon lover."

Dagur took a deep breath. "Just because I don't kill as much doesn't mean I don't at all. My interrogation methods aren't anything to take lightly."

He unlocked the cell door and entered. The Flyer moved back, but he still had a glare on his face.

"Your Vikings are as weak as you are. In no time, we'll get what we want and kill every last one of you, starting with that sister of your–"

The Flyer gasped as he was grabbed by the throat. He clawed at the man's hand, but it did nothing. Dagur growled at him, feeling rage coursing through his body. He could feel the Viking's body tremble from having his airway constricted. He could feel the windpipe and how much more pressure he needed to apply so that it would be crushed. He could feel how wonderful this familiar sensation was.

"Dagur!" Oswald exclaimed in horror.

Surprised, Dagur let go of the Flyer, realizing that he had lifted him into the air when he heard a thud caused by him landing on the cell floor. Painfully, the prisoner lifted his hands to his bruised throat. Eyes shifting from him to the newcomer, Dagur hurriedly locked the cell again and left.

"Dagur," Oswald called.

"I can't talk right now," the redhead said quickly.

Before his father spoke with him, he wanted to make sure he was in control again. He had gotten too into the interrogation and lost his temper like usual. Things like that could not happen anymore.

"Dagur, stop," Oswald said.

The tone made it clear that this was less of a request than it was an order. Like an instinctive response, the Berserker did what he said. The father went over to him with a concerned look.

"What did I just witness?"

"I was interrogating him."

"It's difficult to reveal information with a crushed windpipe. You were about to kill that man," Oswald scolded.

"I didn't plan to. I probably would have stopped before that happened."

"Probably," the elder man said with a scornful laugh. "Because 'probably' not killing people is what all great people should strive to do. If I had not intervened, what would have happened?"

Dagur looked away from him. "I don't know," he said in a low voice.

Oswald closed his eyes and sighed. "This crazy, destructive phase of yours…how has it not ended yet?"

Dagur turned to his father with an unhappy expression. "Can we stop calling it a phase?"

Oswald's eyes opened. "What else would we call it? A stage?"

"No, it's just…more permanent than that."

The dark-haired man blinked at him for several moments. "You're not crazy, Dagur."

"It's not like I enjoy being called that, but there is something different about me than most Vikings."

"You're eccentric. Your mother was the same."

"Did Mom feel angry almost all the time?" Dagur asked, exasperated. "Did she come up with ideas she thought were fun that horrified everyone around her? Even when I'm not upset, it feels like I'm a split second away from snapping someone's neck and I still can't stop thinking up plans that everybody else thinks are weird."

"That's simply because I was too busy to redirect your energy in a positive direction when you were a child."

"That's not why."

"Yes, it is. What's the alternative?"

Dagur miserably looked the man in the eye. "That I'm not sane."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not and I think accepting that has helped me learn how to respond to people and situations better."

"It's all in your head."

"Exactly! That's what I'm saying–"

"I don't mean it that way," Oswald stated, irritated. "You're tricking yourself. I don't understand why, but you are. It's as I've always said. It's just a phase. I won't hear more of you calling yourself insane."

"But, Dad–"

Oswald put his hands on his shoulders. "I want you to say that you're sane."

"I…really shouldn't."

"Say it," the man said, voice becoming more commanding.

Dagur sadly looked into his eyes. "It wouldn't be true."

The elder Berserker let go with a sigh and frown. He started to walk away, but the redhead put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"If it makes you upset, I won't say that I'm insane, but if I were–"

"Dagur."

"If I were," the redhead repeated passionately, "we'd still be family, right?"

Oswald removed his hand. "I'm not entertaining this."

The chief caught his arm before he could leave. "Dad, I need to know," he insisted. "Please."

"You're not crazy, so there's nothing to know."

"But if I were," Dagur said, voice rising slightly before it lowered to nearly a whisper, "would you still love me?"

Oswald stared at the younger Berserker. His eyes scanned the chief's face, taking in the terror he felt. He could not comprehend its reason. This was a foolish joke he was playing and an even more foolish matter to take so seriously. Oswald freed his arm from Dagur's grip.

"It was a phase–a long phase–but it was just a phase nonetheless," he said. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to me again. I did not have crazy children and will not pretend otherwise. Since you have a prisoner to hopefully not kill, I will leave you to that. If you see Heather before I do, let her know that I went back to the ship."

The father walked to the docks, anger bubbling up inside of him and pleading to be let out.