CAUTION: Spoils aspects of Innocent Hopes, Twisted Realities, as well as aspects of When Nothing Remains and events of Usurpation of the Darkness through chapter 52.

Seriously, major spoilers here.

Assuming you wish to continue, read on…

Background: This is a small thing, but an interesting one from a meta perspective. Originally, back when Beryl and Cara accidentally showed themselves to the first enemy ship, these following scenes were my answer to Lily not being present, recountings placed in the chapter itself, not from her perspective. Not only did these scenes become somewhat obsolete as I rewrote, this was the only time I ever used the technique, so it was very out of place. Still, there wasn't anything really wrong with them aside from that, so I figured they could go here, now that the latest developments they could possibly spoil have been published.

"There they are," Beryl growled, flying high above the clouds. "The dragons Lily sent must not have checked this far out."

They were only a little further than the scouts would have gone… but she couldn't argue the most definitely odd wooden structure sitting on top of the waves. "Do we go back?"

"No, we check them out." Beryl swerved around to look at her. "You check them out. Are you up for this?"

"I volunteered, so yes," she confirmed. "What do you need me to do?"

"Get in close. Count the No-scaled-not-prey, and look for large shiny grey structures that seem complicated. Those are traps or weapons. I want to know how many of each, if you can." Beryl warbled curiously. "Got it?"

She liked how he had put it. A simple request, and a useful one. "On it."

"Don't get caught."

"How could I?" she retorted, spinning to the side and firing into the air, diving through the flames and knowing she was no longer visible. He could not do the same. That was why she was here.

As she got closer, the wooden structure became easier to see… and all the stranger for it. She ignored all of the odd little details, focusing on what Beryl had requested. How many shiny grey things, and how many No-scaled-not-prey.

The metal things were easy, but the No-scaled-not-prey blended in with their odd contraptions, all colors dull and faded, browns and greys mixing to obscure them. It really didn't help that she was not good at picking their foreign shapes out from the background when they weren't moving. She got closer, close enough to have to be careful not to rock their odd platforms with the wind from her wings. She was not visible, so it was safe to do so.

Right until something shot out from the mass of unknown things and tangled her, cruelly wrapping her wings. She heard the whistle of the wind and oddly weak cheering as she fell to the water, the icy cold washing away the heat of her disguise even as she sunk. How had they seen her?! It wouldn't matter in a few moments, because-

The same tangle of vine that had impossibly picked her out of the air now pulled up, rescuing her from the death it had threatened a moment before. She could not move, but at least she could inhale without death following, now out of the water.

Out of the water, rolling, tumbling and becoming more and more tangled with every jolt. She flailed wildly as she moved. Her wings hit hard objects, sending jolts of shock through her, and the oddly smooth bark of the mutilated trees below her rubbed against her scales.

Then dense weights slammed into her, and she rolled once more, hitting a solid object. Her head spun.

When she regained her wits, it was too late. Grey shapes penned her in, and she knew all too well what they were. Beryl had described cages, and she knew she was in one. It could be nothing else.

Then there was a screech of rage, and a babble she did not understand. Beryl was attacking in an attempt to save her. He had no camouflage, but that had not ended up doing her any good in the end, and he knew far more than she. She had to hope he could get her, and annoyingly could not so much as watch, so tangled that her body was stuck where it had landed, her head wedged against a corner of the cage.

Exclamations, chattering, cheering. Loud thumps, screams, and all too soon more cheering, the sounds of a struggle. They had gotten him too.

Then, after all the sounds had died down, a surprisingly soft paw grabbed her ears and pulled them out between the grey bars, holding them though she tried to pull away-

Cold metal clamped down on her left ear, far stronger than the paw. Pulling away felt like she was at risk of pulling her ear straight off of her head, so she stopped trying. What was the point?

Then, in a moment of agony, she stopped caring about the why. The tips of her ears were on fire, agony to the point of shock. She pulled away harder, her body straining to-

Untangled, unrestrained, free. Shallow cuts pricked her as the vines were haphazardly sliced, and the bars in one place swung away. What was going on? She no longer cared, maddened by pain and for some reason by uncontrollable fear.

The No-scaled-not-prey moved out of her way as she stumbled out of the cage, staring unnervingly calmly, watching her. She saw Beryl lying on the deck, so swathed in brown vines that he could not move, probably unconscious…

And she fled, because these creatures were letting her leave. To fight would be futile. They were so confident they let her go.

And then later, after he was rescued, Beryl gave his own little recounting.

They were skilled, far more skilled than normal hunters, and that was ignoring how they had taken down Cara while she was camouflaged. They fought as a group, trusting each other to cover them, hitting him whenever his attention was on someone else, even tossing each other weapons whenever needed, passing around their means of attack and defense without a care for their own safety, though they were too good for him to take advantage of it.

Hunters were bad, but these No-scaled-not-prey were something else entirely. There was little fear, and no panicking whatsoever, though he was far from an easy target.

Maybe it would have been different had he waited, but for all he knew Cara was to be slaughtered the moment they got a chance, so he could not wait. So here he was, fighting a losing battle against an enemy he had underestimated.

He was good, but not good enough. Soon enough they had him pinned under ropes and weights, a haphazard assortment of objects pressing down on him, weighing him down. That was it. There was no further pain, no spiteful inflicting of petty injuries to celebrate.

"Harl, get the proof," one said absently, cleaning a shallow gash on his arm. "We still want that."

"Got it," another No-scaled-not-prey grunted, moving over to Cara's cage. He pulled a strange metal device over, two slabs connected by a rod and lever, and put it by where her head was.

Beryl might have cried out to Cara, telling her to move, for she could not see the contraption, but his mouth was pinned shut by a taunt assortment of ropes.

The No-scaled-not-prey spent a few moments wrestling her ears out from between the bars, and managed more by luck than skill to get one under the device. The metal was swiftly moved by lever to firmly pin her ear.

Then Harl grunted again, pulling out a knife. "What's our mark this time around?"

"Just cut the tops off," another answered. "But make sure the rest of us are ready first. We need the cage door open and the launchers primed. Give us a second."

There was a flurry of movement, the No-scaled-not-prey moving into position, leaving Beryl pinned with only a few guards. He bided his time, subtly testing at his makeshift restraints. They were resourceful, to hold him like this, but if he could find a weak point, it would be their undoing.

Then there was a shriek of pain, and Harl fell back, clutching two palm-sized chunks of white scale and flesh. Beryl felt vaguely sick at the single glimpse he had caught of that-

But his heart soared along with Cara as she… was allowed to leave. These No-scaled-not-prey had no idea how big of a mistake that was.

And, given it was their first mistake in all of this, he was glad to know they were capable of screwing up just like anyone else. All that aside, he didn't want to wait for rescue. He kept testing his bonds.

"We leavin' it like that? If it gets loose, we might not take it down in time," a No-scaled-not-prey with a high voice remarked.

Wait, was that a woman? He wasn't surprised a woman could hold her own here, but the hunters he had fought in the past were exclusively men, for whatever reason. Another oddity, one that worried him. These No-scaled-not-prey were smarter than average, it seemed, from ignoring the limiting customs of only employing men, to fighting as a team, and to all the contraptions littering the deck of this ship.

"We can put it out, but I don't wanna be the one to try and figure out the stuff he gave us," another remarked. "Thor knows he'd never believe us if his stuff killed it. Best we do this the old-fashioned way."

The old-fashioned way seemed to involve a lot of… nothing. The No-scaled-not-prey took turns watching him, sometimes adding to the web of ropes and weights holding him motionless, but otherwise leaving him alone. They seemed content to ignore him… mostly.

"So, how many points ye think it'll net us?" One of them asked, idly spinning his sword.

"Points? We'll just straight-up win the exercise with this thing. You know how he is." Harl looked up from a needle, thread, and two sickening chunks of white scale and flesh. "These," and at that he held up the tips of Cara's ears strung together on a thread, dangling macabrely, "are good, but a Night Fury is great. No one will top that."

"Aye, and a live one," the woman sneered. "He'll go nuts."

That was worrying. Given he still hadn't found a weak point in his frustratingly thorough restraints, Beryl hoped Cara came soon.

O-O-O-O-O

Time had passed. It should not have taken this long… but they were here. A lot of them, by the sound.

Sound, because they were coming in brazenly, from all directions, screeching angrily.

Now the No-scaled-not-prey were panicking, which made Beryl savagely satisfied. He had taught these dragons, so he could partially claim the reaction his own appearance had failed to elicit.

"Must be a nest," one of them yelled worriedly. "We should'a kept the Light Fury!"

"You know the rules!" another replied angrily, gripping his sword. "We couldn't! We had to let it loose, though I'm regretting it now!"

"Aye, yer definitely regretting it!" the woman yelled angrily, firing an arrow into the sky, totally missing the nearest dragon. The light wings were circling now, slowly closing in. "We're not making it out o' this alive!"

"Then we'll take as many of the monsters with us as we can!" Another yelled. "For the archipelago!"

"For the archipelago!" the rest of the crew shouted in agreement. They readied their weapons, staring grimly into the face of doom.

Doom brought by dragons Beryl had happened to prep for something vaguely similar to this. They knew not to fly into the waiting weapons of these No-scaled-not-prey. Instead…

He heard the rising shriek of the doom that would deny these No-scaled-not-prey the glory of a final stand, and closed his eyes, hoping nobody hit him directly… or sank the ship. That would really be bad luck.

The explosion did not surprise him, given he was expecting it, but it still hurt a little, a series of shocks that forced him against the strongest parts of his entrapment, cutting into the skin between his scales. Small injuries, but annoying.

Then there were thumps on the deck, drafts of wind. He opened his eyes and began struggling, hoping to draw attention to himself. Someone saw him, pointed him out, and he was soon free.

Cara caught his eye. She was snarling and blasting a corpse, her eyes slits.

"It's over," he called out. "We need to leave. This ship might not stay above water for long, depending on how much damage you all did."

"I am ready to go," Aven called out, sounding peculiarly rushed.

"Fine," Cara spat. "They are all dead anyway." They rose into the air, Beryl following as quickly as his wings would allow, cramping from being help out, motionless, for hours on end. The night was more than half over, all in all.

"Aven, what is that?" Holly growled. "We are not supposed to eat them."

"I do 'ot wan' to," Aven replied, her voice muffled. "Bu' I thin' thi' one's s'ill alive!"

A prisoner… but why would Aven take one? It didn't matter, he could find out what she wanted with it later. "She can keep it! Just be sure it's not awake to stab you as you fly! Someone watch it for her!" It was a good thing they weren't that far from the valley.