Chapter 12: Nightshade

The rumble of storm clouds dragged the Alpha back to consciousness, his body twitching in discomfort as the memories of his last waking moments crashed over him. Toothless roused himself to his feet, frantically spinning to find Ash. By all the gods, she laid only a few feet beside him, sleeping peacefully. Breathing a sigh of relief, Toothless regarded himself strangely; not only was the leg that had been slashed no longer bleeding, but the wound was already in the process of healing. And even stranger was the realization that his throat and eyes seemed to be working perfectly normal, his lungs inhaling fresh cool air. Assured of his own survival, the Night Fury took to observing his surroundings.

Him and Ash appeared to be resting in a cave, not a deep cave but one with a sizable entrance, in which the outside world was clearly visible. They were evidently still in the Wastes—the crimson sky was unmistakable—and yet they appeared to be in a different, possibly further inland place. The ruins of battle were still strewn across the land, and yet the bodies were significantly less. Instead, innumerable streaks of ash were marked on the ground, as though a multitude of objects had been seared by heat. Furthermore, Toothless could see the occasional haphazard structure; there were ruined buildings, human ones it looked like, the remains of some ancient village from long ago. Approaching the mouth of the cave, the Alpha looked down at the ground. A thin line of amber light, like a thread of sunlight bending as though alive, was traced upon the ground. He touched the amber light with a paw, his claws passing through the trail undisturbed. It did nothing, the line still glowing brightly, and Toothless was intrigued.

The crunch of rock snapped the Night Fury into alert; positioning himself over his sleeping friend, he bared his teeth and prepared to meet the intruder. Around the bend walked the cloaked figure from before, a human standing just over six feet in height; he wore a black knee-length coat of some rough dragonscale material, with matching leggings, gloves and boots. The only visible skin was on his navel, the glitter of several cords and chains adorning his neck and tucked beneath a loose shirt. His head was concealed not by a hood, but by carefully wrapped strips of cloth around what looked to be a metal mask; the facemask had only a line of opening at eye length, and small holes for breathing. A soft golden glow emitted behind the frame, but offered no vision behind the mask. The figure dragged a long greatsword in his right hand, a weapon that stood in sharp contrast to the wanderer's ragged appearance; the large weapon was beautiful and well-crafted, the polished bone handled seared black and adorned with small amber and green stones. The blade was almost as long as the man himself, the gleaming metal adorned with strange runes, and the tip dragging lazily on the ground behind him occasionally showered the ground with sparks. Much to Toothless's shock, their savior's other hand was wrapped around a clawed foot; a fully grown, headless Morian was being dragged through the dirt.

The figure did not even appear to register that Toothless was awake, walking into the cave without so much as a look of acknowledgement. The Night Fury lowered his guard, puzzled by the human, who continued to drag the Morian along. He leaned his greatsword against the wall before proceeding inward. Turning with him, Toothless saw the inner part of the cave adorned with random bits of junk and weaponry; shields, swords, even some pieces of wood and rope. At the back sat a large oak table, a rack of tools positioned haphazardly against the cave wall. Additional shelves appeared to have dried organs, dead plants, and other random assortments of items. The ground around the table was stained with black blood, harshly chipped bowls of stone laying about and filled with various pieces of what Toothless could only assume was flesh. Hoisting the Morian onto the table, the man returned to the cave center and reached for a sconce on the wall; pulling a stone from his pocket, he struck the sconce in a shower of sparks, the cave now brightly illuminated with light. The human—still ignoring the two Night Furies at the entrance to his cave—sat down on an aged chair in the center of the cave, reaching for a small pile of dead wood and twigs. A small fire quickly emerged, and the man dragged over two stone bowls to begin brewing some strange concoction; whatever strange plants he was burning emitted no smoke.

A groan beneath him snapped Toothless out of his observation. Ash stirred, her eyes flickering open.

"Nuggh… Toothless?"

"I'm here." He lowered his head, nuzzling her gently. "We're safe for the moment."

Ash's eyes were fully open as she dragged herself to her feet. "Where are we?"

"You too, come here."

The Night Furies looked towards the voice in unison. The shrouded human was stirring the contents of two stone bowls, bits of plants floating in a mixture of watery sludge. Pouring additional liquid into the bowls, from a worn jug beside his chair, he beckoned them closer.

"Drink this, it will help you purge the poison from your body."

Despite the fact that he felt fine, Toothless slowly stepped forward. Although he didn't know if he could trust the mysterious figure, he was the only reason they were still alive. He opened his jaws, and the man stood, pouring the contents of one bowl into his mouth. Toothless swallowed, then wretched; the potion tasted like the smell of rotting flesh, but suddenly he felt a rush of strength throughout his body. He motioned to Ash, who also took the potion without protest. She gagged as well, but then the enriching effects stirred in her as well, and she looked at him puzzled.

"So what now?" She grumbled. "What do we do about this guy?" She motioned to the figure, who—setting the bowls back under the table—proceeded to stand over the Morian, pulling dissection tools from the rack as he paid the dragons no mind.

Toothless started. "I don't know, but he did save our lives. And look!" He pointed to the cave entrance, where the amber line still shone. "This has to be magic! What if he knows where the stone is?"

A sharp laugh sounded from behind them; turning back, the Night Furies beheld the masked figure shaking his shoulders, absentmindedly cutting into the Morian's ribcage. "That's what you two came all this way for? You travelled into a land of certain death for a rock?"

The two dragons looked at each other, eyes wide with shock. "You can understand us?!" they accused in unison.

The man did not answer at first, still digging into the cadaver. Pulling out an oozing black heart and dropping it into a bowl, he pointed a slimy knife at the two. "You didn't answer my question. Can you two even comprehend how lucky you are?!" he yelled, sticking the knife in the table. Walking back to the fire, he pulled off his soaked gloves and threw them to the ground, revealing pale skin beneath. "You shouldn't be here."

"Well, no one should." Toothless countered, still in disbelief. "So who are you, and what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm no one." the man answered. "And you walked into the Wastes like little children seeking adventure, who go off to war thinking they'll return with glory and gratification. The very air here is enchanted, designed to lure people further into the center and drain them of their strength. The Morian that remain hide in the rubble, waiting for the unsuspecting to peel the flesh from their bones. And there isn't a drop of clear water for a hundred miles. So I'll ask again." he pointed at them. "What are you two doing out here?"

Sighing, Ash sat down beside the fire. "My friend didn't mean any offense, we're just surprised, that's all. I'm Ash, this is Toothless." She smiled, but her eyes were firm. "And we're grateful that you saved us, but you're just as mysterious as this place we're in. How can you understand what we're saying?"

The man didn't answer, unseeing eyes peering at them from behind the mask. Slowly a hand reached up, undoing a knot that kept the cloth tied behind his head. He carefully unwrapped the headpiece, revealing spiky raven hair that stuck up forward and at other odd angles. The mask came off, and the two Night Furies beheld a handsome Nordic male with a thin face and a sharp jaw. He rubbed his eyes, setting his face in his hands.

"I can do a great many things," he said. "That's kind of a requirement for surviving out here. The Wastes are hell on earth, not a place for adventure. But you knew that, didn't you?"

"Maybe we did," Ash countered, starting to get irritated. "And maybe we have a good reason! And we didn't know about the enchantments, we only planned to be here for a day at most."

The man snorted, his head still in his hands as he massaged his eyelids. "Well it hasn't even been a day, if that makes you feel better. But it doesn't matter. You should leave as soon as you can."

Before Ash could retort, Toothless interjected. "If you've lived here for a long time, perhaps you could help us. We're looking for something, and I think you might know about it."

"Oh?" The man raised his head, his hands falling to his lap. "Well tell me then, Toothless, what is it you think I know about?"

Toothless stared. The man's irises shone with gold, and where pupils should have been narrow vertical slits were in their place; though the man was young the eyes were hard and ageless. The Night Fury suddenly felt a not-so-unfamiliar sensation of dread, the desire to flee before a predator that assumed the guise of a weaker creature. He blinked, looking away; he stole a quick glance at Ash, who looked more afraid now than when she had encountered the Morian.

"Well? I'm still waiting," the man said, relaxing his expression. He held his hands over the fire, his golden eyes flickering across the flames as though a multitude of thoughts were racing through his head. "You mentioned a stone — that's an odd thing to venture into the Wastes for, don't you think?"

Toothless had a multitude of questions in his mind, but chose instead to answer. "It's not an ordinary stone, it's magical. Which I don't mean to accuse, but it looks like you might have some experience with that sort of thing."

"Very observant of you." The man said sarcastically. "But such an object surely isn't meant to be held by mortals, right? Especially if you put so much faith in it?"

"You're one to talk." a voice said beside him.

Toothless turned, surprised. Ash had never been one to speak out of anger, and yet the female Night Fury's eyes were filled with rage.

"Ash, what—"

"Shhhh," the man interjected, holding a thin finger to his lips. "Let her speak."

"I didn't think to believe it, at first." Ash said, growling hard towards the human. "How could a human know what the Wastes were called, or the Morian? Dark stories my elders used to make the little Night Furies behave, and yet here you are living amongst them. And then I thought 'how could a human understand dragons, much less have the eyes of one?' It all couldn't be possible, shouldn't be, not without relying on one sickening truth."

The man regarded the angry dragoness with interest. "And what truth is that, Ash?"

"That the greatest Night Fury in centuries, the great warrior, my childhood hero, ran away and hid from everything. That all my worries, all the conflict between Night Furies that I grew up with, is because when we needed him most he ran away! Tell me I'm wrong, Nightshade!" Her spine and nostrils began to glow blue. "Tell me I'm wrong!"

The human looked back at Toothless, who expected protest. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders.

"She isn't, mostly." Nightshade admitted, his face breaking into a smirk that—for reasons unknown—caused Toothless's blood to run cold. A giggle escaped him as the ancient king of the Night Furies, apparently human, ran his fingers through his hair.

Ash looked even more incensed, as though confronting a pile of something repulsive. "What's so funny?"

Golden eyes regarded the dragons with apathy. "Oh, just your assumption that my lack of presence, even if important, excuses the hatred of other dragons. Even funnier…" he pointed at both of them. "... is the idea that I owe any of you anything."

Ash reared up, towering over the human in fury. Toothless rushed over, attempting to hold her back. "Please don't, we can't—"

"I swear, if he says one more thing I'll—"

"Do nothing." Nightshade's voice, first ambivalent, now resonated with unnatural strength. "I have killed more creatures in more places, gained more power, than any other living being. What exactly is it that you think I owe you, when I fought to save our race from extinction before your parents were even a thought? Should I feel threatened, feel guilty? Maybe the latter, but trust me, you should listen to Toothless."

The blue glow left her body, but Ash's anger remained. "You could've stayed, kept us united. It was your duty!"

"Duty…" Nightshade let his hand hover over the fire, his fingers being gently licked by the flame. "Yes, it was my duty to rule. And how long would you demand that I fulfill that duty; until death?" He snorted at his own question, but his expression betrayed no humor. "It was my duty to serve my father, to hunt down our enemies and protect my people. Then it was my duty to study the dragonstones, to hone their magic into a force that was good and upright. And when that went south it was my duty to become king, at least after my best friend killed my father. Then I fulfilled my duty and fought once more, to save all life on this earth. And what do I get for my efforts? Life, and more duty according to you. When does it end?"

Despite her rage, Ash couldn't find an answer fast enough, so Nightshade continued. "You are angry because you grew up in a fractured world, split by Night Furies who fought their own battles and formed their own bigotry. Perhaps you're right, and it wouldn't have happened under my rule; so tell me, Ash, how long am I expected to linger? Until the entire world has changed and all the Night Furies I've known have been replaced three times over? How long should I have ruled, watching everything I know and love decay into dust, right after most of them have been slaughtered already? Maybe you could have endured, with your purity of heart, but forgive me for being selfish. Or don't, I suppose it makes no difference. You two are mortal, and all mortal things fade."

Toothless interjected. "We aren't interested in your reasoning; you made your choice and that's your business. We just came for the stone."

"Ah yes, the true prize." Nightshade raised his hands in mock worship. "All hail the dragonstones, the great perversions of nature! Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't think he'll be going with you. Not least because you don't deserve such power—no one does—but because he's decided to stick with me. Ridiculous, really…"

"He?" Ash couldn't help herself; no one had ever referred to a dragonstone as male or female.

"Well, not exactly. I'd like to imagine that his personality is on the masculine side, but I guess he's even less of a man than I am." Chuckling to himself, Nightshade pulled out something from his pocket and held it out.

"This is Antaris."

The Night Furies leaned in, beholding the egg-shaped amber jewel nestled in Nightshade's hand. A dim light shone deep within the stone, but where Toothless expected to feel an existential horror—like the emerald stone on Aylan—he was surprised to be overwhelmed with a sense of… thrill? The light of Antaris was warm and inviting, the waves of magic flowing and mixing within.

"It's… beautiful." Ash whispered, forgetting her anger for a moment. "And I can look at it without feeling threatened. Why?"

Nightshade ran his thumb over the dragonstone, his eyes wandering. "As they grew, each of the stones took an aspect of existence for itself to embody. I guess it helped them define themselves, find a purpose. I started calling him Antaris because of his love for change, to use magic to alter the world around us. It's because of him that I can turn into a human; reality is his canvas, to fashion things of great beauty that the natural world couldn't. At least, that's the ideal…"

Ash looked at Nightshade scornfully. "So what, you just keep it around while you spend a century and a half in exile? What is the point of either of you then?"

"The 'point' is that we can't die, yet we hold unimaginable power. Would you have us lord over the earth for thousands of years, being tempted and taunted while my mortal friends fade away? Where Night Furies follow my rule but curse under their breath for bringing calamity upon them? I didn't want to find out, so here I am. And despite how angry that makes you, it could always be worse." Nightshade put Antaris back in his pocket. "We don't belong in the world, me or the stones."

As the non-human reached for the jug, putting it to his lips, Ash responded. "You sound just like Holly."

Who? Toothless thought, but his question left him as Nightshade choked on his drink. He tossed the jug to the side, eyes wild.

"What did you say?" he demanded, disregarding the jug shattering on the ground.

"What, you mean your betrothed?" Ash accused, and Toothless had never imagined that she could sound so spiteful. "The Night Fury that you left, after all the war and bloodshed? I met her, and she's just as self-deprecating as you."

Nightshade's golden eyes glowed, his face blank and unrevealing. "You lie… she can't have lived this long… that's impossible!"

"Well she's alive, not that that possibility seemed to cross your mind for the last hundred and fifty years!" Ash screamed. "I used to think that you were all great heroes, but now I think you're all just as selfish as we are now! You think your suffering justifies leaving your race to fight amongst themselves when that suffering is your fault!"

"Hold your tongue, child." Nightshade's face contorted into a dark sneer. "You cannot understand the danger you are still in."

"ENOUGH!" Toothless shouted, attracting both their attention. Ash looked both annoyed and embarrassed, while the non-human regarded the Alpha with interest. "This is pointless. If you don't want to help us then fine, sit here and rot. We'll just be on our way."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea!" Nightshade exclaimed, raising his hands. "I just have one question; if all your problems are my fault, then what are Night Furies fighting about these days that's so serious? Indulge an old creature with some information, since I saved your life."

Ash looked like she wanted to spit out another insult, but her response was controlled. "We split into factions after your 'exile'. Seregon thinks that Aylan dragons are weak-willed and foolish, while we call them barbarians. To say nothing of Holly, who founded her own small colony which separated itself from everyone else."

Golden eyes glittered. "That can't be all. What about the other two stones; surely they didn't just throw them away?"

"The emerald one is on Aylan, and Seregon has none." Ash retorted. "The obsidian one's still with Holly."

"Oh really?" Nightshade leaned back in his chair with the air of a man who knew more than he let on. "And what do they say about Runar? Just curious."

Ash cocked her head. "How can you ask me that? He's an abomination, the embodiment of evil. He took a dragonstone and waged war on everyone!"

"That's not what everyone thinks, not all of it." Toothless interrupted. Ash did not attempt to hide her shock, while Nightshade cocked an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?!" she said.

"Night Furies on Seregon also condemn Runar, but they tell a different explanation. They blame Nancarin, the dragonstone."

Nightshade doubled over in his chair, shaking with laughter like a drunk man being told a joke at the tavern. The outburst shocked both Night Furies, who looked at each other in confusion; it was now clearly apparent to both of them—if it hadn't been already—that something was extremely wrong with the former king, who struggled for breath in between giggles.

"Oh, that's rich…" Nightshade gasped, attempting to regain his composure. "This is exactly what I'm talking about! Even with having survivors of the war leading you, they can't even agree how it started! You've had the justification for your anger all along… you could agree on basic details of your own history, and your divisions could be mended."

"What do you mean?" Ash questioned.

"I'm saying you Aylan Night Furies are wrong, and so is Seregon. No? Fine, let me explain. Seregon is correct; Runar did not become evil on his own accord. Nancarin consumed him, tortured his dreams until there was no Runar left. But they are just as ignorant as you, because they fear the one dragonstone that can't hurt anyone!" He continued to laugh, slapping his knee.

"Wait, hold on… what do you mean 'can't hurt anyone'?" Toothless asked, confused. "I thought the dragonstones all had similar powers!"

"They do, if you think of them as tools." Nightshade countered, his eyes maniacal. "But they are so much more… Kemenar chose the embodiment of life, and life is intrinsic to his being. To take a life is a rejection of his very existence, so his magic can't do it! Not unless he wants to lose himself, not that that makes any sense either…" Nightshade stood, erratically coming to stand behind his chair. "You could have solved all your conflicts by agreeing on facts, but your precious elders—the survivors of the war—preferred to make their own answers!"

"I can't believe that!" Ash exclaimed. "My elders wouldn't lie about something like that!" But even as she said it, she looked to doubt her own words.

Surprisingly, Nightshade gave Ash a thin smile free of malice. "I didn't say it was intentional. But even dragons will ignore that which isn't convenient, no matter how true. And after the war I'm sure the Night Furies needed someone to blame, but if you decide to blame different things, then maybe it doesn't matter how true the thing is after all. Not if enough people believe in it for enough time." He grabbed the greatsword from the wall—which alarmed Toothless—but then returned to the fire, poking the coals with the large blade. "And I never said I disagreed with anything you said."

Ash looked puzzled. "Huh?"

"I agree with you. All of this—this hellscape, your colonies, these stones—is because of me." Nightshade kept picking at the fire, golden eyes reflecting the light. "I shouldn't be here, in a human body. I should be dead, lying out there with all the others; it's what I deserved. And the stones—these cursed things—their magic kept me alive, and it's irreversible."

"I thought it would be better that way, if I fell fighting to end what I started. And when I realized not only did I not die, but I would live for untold ages, I was afraid. Call me a coward, if you will, but I couldn't do it." Nightshade gritted his teeth. "I couldn't watch Holly age and die, waiting on a Night Fury who would live forever. She deserved a full life, with someone who would live and die with her. And now here you are, telling me she suffered from the same fate while I wandered the Wastes like a ghost!"

Before either dragon could react, Nightshade swung the greatsword out of the fire in a rage; the creaky chair fell into a pile of rods as the blade cleanly separated the wood. He staggered off balance, hesitating with the weapon in hand, before throwing it against the wall with a clang. Ash—who but minutes ago had been ready to draw blood—now looked most sorrowful as she beheld the erratic human, who sank to the ground leaning against the cave wall, his head in his hands.

"You don't need me, Ash. You don't need the stone." Nightshade spoke to her, but his eyes were locked on the ground, as though part of his consciousness was elsewhere. "You have everything you need to face the oncoming storm."

"What's that?" Ash stammered, her voice shaky.

"Him." Nightshade pointed at Toothless. "And yourself. I can see in your eyes, your mind, the success you've achieved, though you may find it trivial. And you seem to have something I have long lost. Faith… faith in the goodwill of others."

"I don't…" Ash's sentence died out, and she looked lost for words. Toothless remained silent, struggling to see an end to the situation they found themselves in. Here they stood in a cave, surrounded by death and blight, with a creature older and more powerful than any they had met. And it saddened him greatly to see the human—or dragon, or whatever—in such a state, regardless of the how and why. The Alpha had heard tales of a king, and yet here sat a shell of a dragon in a human body.

Finally, Ash cleared her throat. "I don't think a single thing you've done, for any reason, was the right thing to do. But I won't curse your name; there are young dragons all over Aylan who revere you, even after all this time, and I won't take that pride away from them. If you think staying here is what's best, I can't stop you. And you're right about the dragonstones, maybe they do bring more harm than good and we'll have to reconcile that when we return. But by all the stars in the sky…" she glared hard at Nightshade, her pupils thin. "You should be ashamed of yourself, leaving Holly. I hope that you go find her and beg for forgiveness, not for your sake but for hers. And I hope she spurns you."

Nightshade didn't respond, sitting there flexing his fingers. He looked to be in a completely different world, a sight that drew both anger and pity from the two Night Furies.

"We should get out of here." Toothless muttered. Ash nodded, and the two dragons turned for the cave entrance.

"Wait. That tail… it's metal, is it not?"

Surprised, the pair looked back. Nightshade was standing up, eyeing Toothless with curiosity.

"That is a human invention. How did you get it?"

Toothless didn't understand why he cared, but it didn't matter; they were on their way out anyway. "I was shot down by a human who intended to kill me. But he had a change of heart, and decided to learn about me instead. Now he's the closest thing I have to a brother, and his village opened their hearts to dragons. You could learn a thing or two from them."

Nightshade stroked his chin, paying no heed to the Alpha's jab. "Fascinating… Unlikely… humans and dragons…" He appeared lost in thought, before blinking. "Oh, right! You two don't know exactly how far in the Wastes you are; I can't let you fly off, you'll never make it. Here."

The man reached into his pocket, the amber glow of Antaris emerging. "Where would you like to go?"

Ash appeared hesitant, but after taking a glance outside into the crimson sky, she stood tall. "Aylan. The top of the crescent peak."

"Stand close to each other."

Toothless and Ash did as they were told, taking one last look at the enigmatic human standing by the fire. Nightshade cocked his head, a corner of his lip turned upward as he beheld the two young Night Furies. The amber dragonstone glowed, and the two dragons vanished with the ethereal wail, as though they had never stood there.

And Nightshade, the ancient king of the Night Furies, returned to sit by the fire, watching the coals die with golden eyes. But the dragonstone in his hand continued to glow, growing warm.

"Oh, now you feel like talking?" The human spoke to the empty cave, holding the gemstone up to eye level. No response could be seen, and yet thoughts transpired between them.

"Well of course if you freaks hadn't turned me immortal, I wouldn't have been afraid of life itself!" Nightshade yelled. "You have to admit, they both have heart. And they have interesting memories…"

The stone burned hot, and Nightshade dropped it reflexively. "Ow! Don't give me that, you read their thoughts too. You know, you three could just as easily fix shit yourself, but I know, I know… rules."

The glow of Antaris lessened but did not abate, and Nightshade picked it up again. "What do you mean I could go back? After everything that's transpired, you want me and you—two walking time-bombs of power—to return to dragon society. And why now, why not a hundred years ago?"

The dragonstone flickered with light.

"Fine, be cryptic then." Nightshade spat. "And don't think I'm letting any of you off the hook, either. I'm not an idiot; you knew Holly was affected by that blast and kept it to yourselves." He said nothing for a moment, scattering the embers with his foot.

"Opened their hearts… very interesting." the old king muttered to himself, and a strange look began to take root in his eyes; a hunger for something beyond physical need.

At once Nightshade stood, racing to retrieve the greatsword. "C'mon, I could use a hand!"

Antaris flickered once more.

"Oh, now you're calling me cryptic, you hypocrite! C'mon, we can debate my future after I get what I need. A little introspective trip, if you will."

He stood in the center of the cave, the dragonstone enveloping him in waves of amber light. And then the cave stood empty, not a sound except for the permanent rumble of thunder from an enchanted sky.

Author's Note: This might be the last chapter I post for a week or two, apologies if it feels rushed. Finally, I have reached the introduction of a character whose existence is the whole reason I started writing this story in the first place. Unfortunately the Honor's Thesis calls my name, but this is just the beginning for Nightshade.