The sound of Toothless galloping away fades as the Night Fury hurries to reach the other Dragon Riders. The sightlessness makes Hiccup feel more vulnerable than ever. Part of him realizes he knew nothing of the feeling when Astrid was temporarily blinded by that lightning strike all those months ago. What a liar he'd been to claim he understood her worries. Nothing compares to this. His hands spread out; Hiccup wanders cautiously in a circle to scan his surroundings. The distant roaring of dragons echoes in the air, and he can feel the vibrations in his prosthetic leg. The ground feels unstable, and it gets worse the longer he stands. Rough bark makes contact with the callused skin of his palms, and his world settles a little.
All he can do is wait for Toothless to return with the help he needs. He wonders if it was a bad call to stay behind. But he knows better. Flyers would be onto them in seconds the moment they'd spot his Night Fury's unmistakable form emerging from the woods. Not only would the enemy be drawn like moths to a flame; he and Toothless would be sitting ducks. Hiccup can't maneuver blindly, not in the heat of battle like this. Perhaps with practice, he could adapt and learn to change the gears of the tailfin with his eyes closed. He could learn to calculate everything sightless: the altitude—the obstacles. He could trust Toothless to make a hundred percent of the calls. But they've never worked that way. He makes the decisions, and Toothless acts accordingly. Right now, Toothless cannot take to the air; he is stranded whether Hiccup's on his back or not. But at least his dragon can make the sharp turns he needs and worry for himself rather than them both.
On the other hand, Hiccup knows that if some Flyer—or worse, Krogan—localizes him before his friends can get to him, he's pretty much done for it. His vision is a blur, like trying to see underwater, but a dozen times worse. All he can do is lean against the tree and stay put, hoping and praying they'll all make it off Armorwing Island—even if it means leaving the lens for Krogan's taking.
The nearby sound of shuffling leaves and thuds of footsteps has Hiccup's stomach churn. Swings of a blade as it tears through foliage leave no margin for the question of whether he's dealing with a friend or foe.
He holds his breath, remaining as still as the trunk.
An irritated groan from no other man than Krogan himself…
Why are they here?
He figured they'd be too busy dealing with the Armorwing—trying to get the Dragon Eye Lens first. He thought his dragon's compromising cries for the other Riders would attract them away from his location. He thought this could work… Now what? He's the only blind man in these asperous woods, surrounded by enemies who want him dead.
"How can you lose a blind and dragonless Rider?" Krogan snaps at his soldiers. The voice originates from his right on the other side of the tree. "Never mind. I'll go after that boy myself."
The only silver lining here is that they don't realize he's in their proximity.
Forever passes before the footsteps fade away. It sounds like they're walking right past him. He knows that if they looked over their shoulder—just glimpsed—he'd be a dead man. But there's no indication that they saw him.
He's confident that the gods love and hate him simultaneously to play such cruel games.
He needs to move—move opposite of them. He takes a cautious first step forward and moves left. His metal leg clicking with every step sends bolts of sparkling energy rushing through his veins as he moves from tree to tree, relying on the bark to keep him balanced. His guard never lowers as he puts distance between the enemy and himself, praying that Toothless has found the others and they're on their way.
The terrain is treacherous, and the island's loitering of metal scraps is no help when Hiccup trips over a piece he can't identify. He meets the soil with barely any resistance, cutting his knees on the harsh bits idling on the forest floor like booby-traps.
Groaning, he crouches. He exhales sharply, the overwhelming sense of helplessness threatening to consume him.
"Think, Hiccup… Think." He needs a better plan. He can't wait around, waiting for his friends to find him. He needs to contribute to his survival. He needs to help himself—be his own saviour.
Memories of the island's structure paint themselves in his mind as vividly as the projected images from the Dragon Eye. Armorwing Island has a canyon. It's a small one, but it's a canyon, nonetheless. Its echo would make perfect for a dragon call, and it would be tight enough that Flyers cannot maneuver with their Singetails, granting the Dragon Riders the advantage. It would be a good plan if weren't so… blind.
The sudden whistle of an arrow has Hiccup's hairs on end before the sharp tip ever embeds itself in the tree next to him. The abrupt death of the noise and the tremor of the shaft has his heart sink to the pit of his stomach like a stone in a lake.
There's no time to react when a shout resonates. "Here's over here!"
Running is pointless. He might as voluntarily jump off a cliff. He shuts his eyes tight, clenching his jaw at the ridiculous hope he'd had to escape. A blind, dragonless Rider, with no backup, against Krogan and his soldiers.
He braces himself for the sharp piercing of the next arrow, but the Flyer is closer than he estimated. He feels the arms wrap around his throat, trapping him in a chokehold. He pulls him off the ground, dragging him to his feet. Instinctively, Hiccup's fight-response kicks in, and his fingernails dig into his assailant's exposed skin on his forearms. But it's not enough to loosen his hold. He can feel his body's need for oxygen as the seconds go by, and Hiccup knows that it's only a matter of time before he blacks out. His racing heart won't allow him to give in and surrender to the enemy. He abandons the clawing and reaches for the Flyer's belt until his hand lands on the item. His hand tightly closes around the hilt, and Hiccup yanks the hunting knife from the sheath. With one swift movement, Hiccup blindly sinks the sharp blade into his attacker's side where no armour covers to allow flexibility. The pained shout nearly has him deaf before he releases the Rider, stumbling backwards to examine his injury.
"The little brat stabbed me!" he shouts heatedly through his mask as he stares down at the knife still embedded into his side.
He pulls the blade out with one swift motion while Hiccup holds his throat, coughing. He can't see him well, but the angry grunt and stomps coming his way are enough of an indicator to get him ready for the next assault.
Hiccup calculates the steps before reaching for the scrap pieces of metal from where he kneels. He grabs the first solid, heavy piece his hand falls upon and swings it at the Flyer when he feels him within reach. He makes contact with a forceful blow. The silence following the thud as the body hits the forest floor is terrifying and satisfying at the same time.
He holds his breath, focusing on the distance to estimate the others' location. Hiccup knows better than to think they didn't hear the Dragon Flyer's call or pained shout. Either they're on their way, or… they're already staring at him, calculating their next move.
The snapping of a branch confirms his suspicions. He tightens his grip on the piece of metal—something that feels like a farrier's rasp—readying himself. He kneels, stabilizing himself.
But this time, he's not locked in a chokehold. He's not fired at, either. His weight is swept from underneath him as someone pulls on his metal leg, effortlessly dragging him across the ground. The feeling is horrifying as he tries to kick with his good leg. His only weapon left is his prosthetic, but the fact that his assailant is neutralizing his left leg makes it useless to try and kick with it. He tries regardless, but to no avail.
His metal leg drops heavily as the Flyer releases him, and Hiccup pants as he claws the ground and collects himself. The pained groans are silenced before they can turn to shouts. Silence hovers uncomfortably for a few seconds, leaving Hiccup undecided whether help has finally arrived or he just happened to be lucky enough to have a wild animal prey on the Flyer.
"Hiccup, it's me," Astrid says hurriedly, her voice hushed. Relief washes over him like the waves crash against a beach.
"Astrid," he exhales, releasing a breath he didn't realize he's been holding. He lowers his guard steadily as her hands reach his face. Her thumb strokes below his eye and Hiccup can hear the tremble in her inhale.
"Hiccup, that blast…" Hiccup can feel the realization dawn on her—why he didn't go with Toothless. Why he was so defenceless against Flyers he would've normally easily handled. "Oh my gods…"
"This way!" The distant shouting suggests they need to get going.
Astrid tenses, and Hiccup follows her lead.
"Come on," she says, guiding him to his feet like he'd done for her months ago. "Those Flyers will be onto us the minute we take to the air. We need to lose them before we do. Stormfly."
The Deadly Nadder treads heavily.
Hiccup needs no assistance as he reaches for Stormfly and mounts on her back after Astrid.
"Where to?" Hiccup asks.
"You have any ideas?" Astrid throws over her shoulder.
"There's a canyon on the island's northern side," Hiccup suggests, staring blankly ahead. "If we can make it there, Krogan and his Titan won't have enough room to maneuver efficiently. He'll circle around, giving us enough time to make it out on the other side."
"Let's just hope we make it there at all."