Chapter 11: The Wastes

The cold wind stung the still-tender cut that he had received, despite Talon's burning of his tail; regardless, Toothless was more than capable of regular flight as he streaked away from Seregon. The young dragonlord had discreetly taken him through the tunnels to another entrance at sea level, where thankfully there were no zealous guards of the type he had fought on the way in. But even as he directed himself towards Nightmare's Eyrie, the Alpha couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed. Sure, Talon seemed trustworthy, but the likelihood of his father completely rebuffing his message was equal. Proud Night Furies, indeed. Toothless hoped Ash had achieved better results than he did; although judging from the steadily growing ring of smoke that now clouded the base of the Eyrie, maybe her choice of colony had been equally difficult to contact.

As Seregon quickly faded behind him, the Alpha thought long and hard about the variety and conflict in Night Fury culture, if that was even the best word to describe it. The idea had not escaped him that if his own race was capable of living as a completely homogenous society—with their separate lifestyles and beliefs—was it not true for other dragons? How many other islands contained separate kingdoms of dragons, perhaps where they first originated from? He would have to make a point of asking some of his friends back on Berk; although the vast majority of them had known mixed nests all their lives, either from the Red Death or the Bewilderbeasts, perhaps someone had been born somewhere else or knew something. It would be an interesting idea to bring to Hiccup, if he could manage to get back in one piece to communicate it to him.

A faint explosion knocked Toothless out of his contemplation, but it hadn't come from the Eyrie. One of the small islands that littered the ocean in between the main islands—barely an island, more like a desolate rocky platform in the middle of the sea—was emitting small lights into the air, exploding in a ring of purple light. There! Ash had told him that she would wait to meet up halfway, and it looks like she had met with the Watchers before him after all. He sped up, eager to tell her what she had learned. As Toothless grew closer, diving for the rocks, he could see that it was her! But something seemed off; Ash's normally cheerful demeanor was not there, her eyes frantic and anxious. The moment he landed, she rushed to his side.

"There you are! I was getting worried," Ash frantically stated, nuzzling his neck. "Are you ok? Did you run into… your tail!"

"Don't worry, it's not deep." Toothless reassured her, returning her nuzzle. "And Talon sends his regards."

Despite her initial melancholy, Ash's expression noticeably brighted at his words. "Oh, thank the stars… So did you convince them?"

"Not exactly, but Talon promised to advocate to his father on our behalf. Even a few Night Furies are better than none." Toothless admitted. "What's the matter? You looked worried when I first landed. Did you not find the Watchers?"

Ash looked at him sorrowfully, as though hesitant to answer. "No, I found some alright. And I… how do I explain this…"

"Take your time."

"Well they at least agreed to help, but their secrecy runs deeper than we thought. You remember that there's three dragonstones left, right?"

Toothless's stomach sank. I don't think I'm gonna like where this goes… "Don't tell me they've got one too."

"Yup. The obsidian one. And I… may have used it."

"Wait, what?!" Toothless stuttered. His own experience looking into a dragonstone had haunted his dreams enough, but for Ash to undergo the same… "Are you ok?! Why would you do that?!" He realized too late the harshness of his tone, as Ash looked somewhat hurt. Composing himself, he apologized; "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, it's just… Well, what did it do?"

Ash answered slowly, as though not having fully processed the day's events herself. "I was told that Herentir can show visions, direct you towards your desires or something like that. I thought it would show me the dragon hunter fleet, and I'd finally have proof. And it didn't."

Toothless took a moment to respond, his concern mounting. "Are you ok?"

Ash didn't look at him. "I'm going to ask you something. And if you say no, it won't change how I think of you, but if you say yes know that I could be putting your life at even greater risk."

Toothless walked around until he was in front of Ash, their eyes locking. "Ask away," he said.

Ash's voice was shaking, but determined. "If what the stone showed me is true, then there's a chance we could find the last dragonstone and use it to save all Night Furies. But it was lost in the Wastes, and there's a incredibly high chance we don't make it out of there alive if we go look. This isn't like going to Seregon; the Wastes are more dangerous than anything I can imagine. If I went to look, just for one day and that was it—"

"I'll come with you."

Ash stood silently for a moment, then—without a word between them—slowly leaned her head against his chest. "I don't want to lose you." she whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere." Toothless leaned his head down, tucking Ash's head under his chin. "We do this together. But just one day, and then we make due with what we've got."

"Agreed." Stepping back, Ash turned to look out to the open sea. "We should start heading south, but I'm a little tired. C'mon, I know an island where we can rest before we head out."

Toothless thought he knew the island she was referring to; it was probably comparable to Aylan or Seregon, but had only been a silhouette in the distance and had been out of his way when he first saw it. "I take it it's uninhabited?" he asked, as they took to the skies.

"Not always," Ash replied, lazily gliding upside down. "It's called Dvernoc, the southernmost island in Mystholm. It was lightly inhabited, but after the Cataclysm there weren't enough Night Furies left to keep it populated, so they all fled elsewhere. It's a nice island, not very unique compared to the others. But we won't be bothered there."

Toothless could already see it approaching on the horizon, as Nightmare's Eyrie faded fast behind them; it probably wouldn't even take them an hour to get there. They continued to fly in silence, the cloud-covered sky occasionally breaking to allow beams of sunlight to warm their scales. Ash looked lost in thought, and worry continued to gnaw at Toothless; he trusted and respected her judgement, but his aversion to the dragonstones had given way to abject paranoia. Why of all things would the stone show her the Wastes, the supposed ancient battlefield where Night Furies had been all but destroyed? And what the hell had the Watchers been doing with it all this time? And here they were, off to try and locate the third dragonstone which—if his suspicions were correct—was probably the most dangerous of the three. And Ash hadn't mentioned the reason that the stone was there in the first place — Nightshade had taken it with him. Everything he'd heard about the Wastes told him they were beyond danger; Toothless didn't want to confront Ash about it, but finding the stone or its owner had the potential to be just as bad. What does living a century and a half in a wasteland do to an ancient Night Fury if he survives, much less one who went there voluntarily? He shuddered at the thought.

The Alpha did not take much stock in fate or referring to the guidance of gods, definitely not the way that the Vikings did. But a dark thought had begun to grow in Toothless's mind, the strange sense that the Night Furies on Mystholm were being steered by unseen forces. He was starting to feel as though someone or something was playing a game with them, steering his race towards what end he couldn't be certain. But if there were godlike influences across this place, whether they were benevolent remained the question. What exactly were the dragonstones, and better yet, what were they hiding? If they were even alive at all. Eventually, Toothless vowed, he would confess his fears and reservations to Ash, but not at this moment. Whatever she had seen gave her troubles enough, and entering the Wastes would take more strength of will than his reservations needed a voice. At least for now. As they landed on Dvernoc—a lightly forested island, one that somewhat reminded him of an island he might've found with Hiccup for his map—Toothless did his best to keep Ash's mind off their task, regaling her with more tales of his adventures with the Vikings. To his delight, it did seem to cheer her up for a short while.

Several hours later…

"Ash, am I imagining things, or is the sky turning red?"

"Nope, I see it too."

Normally Toothless would not have to ask such a question in the evening; after a few hours of rest the pair of Night Furies had begun flying southeast, and the sun was slowly beginning to set. Mystholm had faded away, leaving nothing but the vast ocean behind them. But while the majority of the sky was naturally getting darker, the skies directly in front of them seemed to be remaining a dark shade of crimson. A faint ribbon of land was beginning to emerge, one that stretched the entire length of the horizon. Toothless was at a loss for words; no matter the horrors of this place there was more land emerging before his eyes than he had ever seen, more than he and Hiccup had ever discovered. How many giant land masses such as this one existed? The thought was equally wondrous and terrifying, for as they drew closer Toothless could make out a massive storm that stretched as far as the land; the clouds were a mixture of greys and crimson red, faintly alight as though kept aglow by a sun that clearly was no longer there. Thunder was faint, the occasional streak of red lightning linking earth to sky.

"Oh, my stars…" Ash whispered, as they crossed the shoreline.

The Wastes were endless; great plains of dirt, sand, and rock stretched as far as their eyes could see. And yet there was no sign of life, not a single object of rich color or body of water. The land was lifeless and barren, the occasional dead tree or bush providing only a memory of life upon the great canvas of desolation. Even as they flew, Toothless could not see any sign of any creature, living or dead. At least in this part of the Wastes, it was as though nothing had ever existed here at all. No matter how they flew, the more ground they covered in the air, the result was the same. Nothing but a blasted landscape, the only sign of change being the rumbling, unnaturally red sky above them.

"What kind of evil could corrupt such a place?" he whispered to Ash; Toothless couldn't explain it, but he hesitated to raise his voice as though something were listening, despite the complete lack of life for miles.

"Moonlight told me that this place was once called Nangren, 'the land of green'. It was filled with vast plains of grass and great herds of animals, and in some parts of it humans dwelled, living off the land." Ash replied, scanning the horizon for signs of life. "When Runar stole his dragonstone no one knew where he had gone, when in truth he had gone deep into the heart of this land. Even before he revealed himself, there were signs that something was wrong; great flocks of birds would come up from the south, the schools of fish began to change paths, and human ships would occasionally be spotted fleeing north. We thought nothing of it, until we sent scouts who saw the sky begin to change. But by then it was too late."

"All this from one dragonstone?" Toothless asked.

"Right. All the stones carry great power, but Nancarin was the one most willing to unmake the natural world. Runar used the stone to pervert and alter the living creatures here, no matter what they were, and turned them into the Morian. And the more the stone was used, the darker and greater its abilities became. See how the storm blots out the natural sun, while keeping it dimly lit so Night Furies can't blend in? Not simply a random aesthetic; it's a device of fear."

"Hopefully we don't run into any Morian, if they even still exist." the Alpha muttered.

Despite the calmness of their flight, Toothless could see Ash visibly shudder. "My mom used to tell me if I didn't behave, a Morian would snatch me up in the night. I wasn't really scared… until I asked an elder what they looked like. I don't think I slept for weeks after that."

Toothless grimaced; the elder must have held back no details to a hatchling. "Care to describe? Just so I know what to look for."

Ash continued talking, giving up on searching for life amongst the never-changing hellscape. "Not every Morian is alike, they said. Some have extra arms or wings based on what creature they were 'grown' from. But they all resemble tall, emaciated skeletons, the muscles still fused to bone or hanging from the body. Their skin is seared black, their nails filthy and rotten, and whatever teeth they have left are naturally pointed. They have no eyes; only tiny, unnatural white lights that shine like dark spirits in the sockets. The only sure way to kill one is to sever and burn the head, for the rest of the body cannot function without it. But a Morian can still fight without arms, legs; even a hole blasted through their chest will not suffice. They make no sound, require no rest, and their ruined flesh doesn't decay. They are death incarnate, the inanimate flesh of once-living beings fused together by the arcane."

By the gods… They truly were in a hellish land, twisted and engineered by a dark entity. The true scope of the Cataclysm was now clearly evident to Toothless. To fight such an enemy—even as Night Furies—would take tens of thousands, and as Moonlight's story had told, even that wasn't enough. Only another dragonstone had been enough to halt the slaughter, but the Wastes endured. One couldn't even call that a victory; his race barely survived.

"Toothless, do you smell that?" Ash looked at him, a look of confusion on her face.

Now that she mentioned it, he did smell something burning, and it was getting stronger. And the back of his throat was beginning to become very dry, almost like the air was becoming hot and stale. "The air's turning foul. If this keeps getting stronger, we'll need to find a body of… what's that ahead?"

The land ahead of them was slowly beginning to become more rocky, but as they flew closer Toothless realized that it wasn't rocks at all. Ash gasped in shock, and his eyes widened in horror. The Wastes continued on for uncountable miles; but while the land up to this point had been bleak and empty, the endless wasteland ahead was littered with corpses. Skeletons of countless races—dragons, humans, and some that were impossible to identify—stretched in an infinite battlefield, melted weapons and torn standards littering the ground along with the dead. As they drifted over the graveyard beneath them, it became clear what the smell was; of the incalculable carion on the ground the vast majority of them had been seared by a great heat, their bodies flattened to the earth by some vast eruption of flame. The scent was slowly becoming overwhelming. Toothless glanced around, and an unimaginable sense of dread overtook him.

"Ash, stop."

"What?" Ash drifted to a halt.

"Look back the way we came, and tell me what you see."

Ash turned, and beheld the cause of his fear. They hadn't been flying over bodies for very long, so the empty plains should still be clearly visible. And yet when they looked behind, the Wastes were identical from every direction, the crimson sky covering the field of the dead like a blanket.

"What, I… I don't understand! Where did the plains go?!" Ash immediately turned around and raced the way they had come. Toothless followed in hot pursuit, but the plains did not reveal themselves. The air was continuing to become more thick and fiery, not a sound but the rush of their wings and the rolling thunder from above.

"This has to be some kind of trick!" Ash stopped and hovered, beginning to panic.

"This entire place is cursed." Toothless did his best to remain calm. "C'mon, I'm sure if we keep going this way we'll snap out of the illusion. We only took one path forward, we couldn't have gone off course."

Ash didn't look consoled, her eyes darting around in fear. "We never should've come here! What have I done—"

"Hey, hey, HEY! Look at me!" Toothless exclaimed, rushing forward. "We're making it out of here, you hear me? Let's keep going back the way we came and I'm sure we'll at least find empty land." Cardinal directions can't change, right?

"Ok…"

They raced forward fast, trusting in their sense of direction. Toothless wasn't sure how long they had been flying for, but the Wastes only appeared to be getting more corpse-laden. The air was now outright foul, his throat and nostrils burning. His wings were beginning to grow tired, and his eyes hurt. Everything about this place was wrong…

"Toothless, look! Water, down there!" Ash exclaimed, her voice hoarse and scratchy. The air was clearly affecting her too.

He looked, but could see nothing. Sure, there looked to be some shining metal—somewhat clean shields and swords, most likely—but no water.

"Ash, I don't see anything." he responded, his voice filled with concern.

"Don't you see?! It's right there. I'm really thirsty…" Before he could react, Ash had begun to dive towards the ground.

"ASH, WAIT!" Toothless dove, racing after her. This couldn't be natural; how could her senses be so dulled? Although he didn't need to look far for an answer, as his own ability to breathe was steadily becoming more difficult. Nonetheless, he put on a burst of speed in an effort to reach her, but Ash's head start was just enough for her to reach the ground first.

Ash pulled up just above the fallen warriors, the pounding of her wings dispersing the ash and dust below her as she scanned the ground in a daze. But there was no water: only some steel, from human craftsmen long dead.

"What? I could've sworn—"

A mangled, blistered hand shot out of the mound of bodies, latching onto Ash's tail. At once whatever trance had befallen her was broken and she screamed, immediately shooting for the sky. But the hand's grip did not loosen; as she flew upward the entire body of a blackened corpse came with her, its opposite hand locked around a melted spear. Shreds of decaying fabric adorned the body, the remnants of a human peasant whose name had long since been erased. The creature opened its mouth, but no sound came out. Ash looked down in abject horror into a single pair of white lights, like haunting stars in a void, as the Morian pulled its spear arm back.

A bolt of plasma flew past Ash's wing and struck the corpse in the shoulder, blowing its spear arm clean off. Toothless watched as the Morian lost its grip, falling to the earth in a pile of bone and metal; as Ash flew back up to his altitude, the Alpha looked back down upon the ground, which was beginning to stir with movement. The amputated Morian slowly picked up a melted axe from the ground—a black, blood-like sludge oozing from the wound—as additional corpses began to stand, shaking off the rubble and bone of the battlefield. Almost a dozen pairs of white lights now gazed upward, and to Toothless's horror, a few of the Morian began to uncurl small pairs of emaciated wings from their backs.

"Go!" He shouted at Ash, spurring her into flight as the two Night Furies fled.

Toothless gasped as pain shot through his chest, his breathing labored as the endless land around him began to wobble and blur. The air was strangling them somehow, and there were still no empty plains in sight; how could we have been so stupid?! For all they knew some dark spell was keeping them disoriented and confused, and Toothless had no idea how to snap them out of it. Turning his head to see 3 Morian silently flying in pursuit, he aimed another blast of fire for the closest one; this time he squarely struck its head, the bones shattering as it fell to the ground, but upon attempting another shot the two additional Morian effortlessly dodged it. Thankfully they were not particularly fast fliers, but Toothless didn't know how much longer him and Ash could keep this up.

"Toothless — *wretch* — we need to land… I can barely feel my wings!" Ash cried, her wings flapping at increased speed just to stay up.

There was no way the ground was a better option, but they didn't have a choice; he could feel his throat closing. Quickly scanning the earth, he saw a rocky outcropping that stood some ways above the ground.

"C'mon, follow me!" he choked.

They landed on the outcropping, the force of two dragon's wings blowing bits of bone and debris from the top. As they landed Toothless felt his legs shake beneath him, but he stayed standing. He stood back to back with Ash, his vision swirling, but amidst the blur he could see increasing pairs of haunting stars emerging out of the red haze. The Night Furies began firing shots at the slowly approaching Morian, who lumbered forward without a care for lost limbs or burning flame; occasionally one would completely lose its head, the emaciated bones collapsing to the ground, but more corpses replaced the fallen. Ever slowly they marched, dark sentries with neither emotion nor instinct guiding their steps, only the task of bloodshed.

Ash attempted to fire another shot, but her flames sputtered and died in her throat. She wretched, vomit spewing from her throat as she wavered on all fours. Toothless caught her as she fell, Ash leaning against his side. He tried to call out, but the words caught in his swollen throat. The Alpha's head was swimming as he bared his teeth, now standing over his friend as dozens of Morian silently approached. Forgive me, Hiccup…

Waves of amber light—or were they flames?—crossed over the Wastes, engulfing a portion of the Morian in bright color. When they dissipated, clouds of ash fell to the ground where armed skeletons had been. Despite his darkening vision, Toothless could make out a silhouette moving amongst the corpses, a large blade flashing amongst the pairs of lights. What looked to be a tall human, their face and body concealed in black covering, was in the process of severing the head of a corpse with a large greatsword. The Morian wielded weapons at an unnatural speed, but the cloaked figure was faster, severing their heads without so much as a scratch. A shadow to his left caused the Alpha to turn his head, seeing a Morian with a sword protruding through its ribcage scaling the rock. Without hesitation, Toothless swung his head down and seized the creature's head in his jaws, pulling hard as his paw kept the chest flat against the rock. The head detached from the neck with a sickening pop, and Toothless threw it as far as he could.

Turning back, his stomach sank as he beheld the headless body still holding another sword. The blade cut deep into his leg, Toothless emitting a wine as he swatted the Morian away with his tail. Despite only being one cut the wound burned hotter than fire, and the world around him began to fold. Toothless took one more glance at the ruined battlefield, the cloaked figure still weaving throughout the walking dead, before his head hit the ground.

Authors Note: School is in full swing, and so is my procrastination. Apologies for the impending time it will take for me to get chapters out. Our two Night Furies have definitely bitten off more than they can chew… but who is their 'savior' and how has a human survived in the Wastes? More on this wasteland in future chapters.