Ghost's Reign Chapter 28: Leading Letters, a How to Train Your Dragon + Big Hero 6 Crossover fanfic

Chapter 28, everybody! Now we're getting to one of the story arcs that was written ahead a good while back. In other news, happy first day of winter! Watch me be pining for spring come January 2nd.

Obake's referencing the story of Icarus there—something he also does in canon. As for the structure of thunderstorms, pretty sure I learned that in science class, and if I didn't there it was from one of the science books Mom got me when I was little. Thunderstorms do effectively have a central shaft of hot air that pulls air up, where it cools and then shoots back down—hail is formed by water being caught in this cycle, shooting up, icing over, coming back down, shooting back up, ad nauseum until it becomes too heavy to be blasted back up. This is why hail, should you slice it in half, has rings.

Moving on—Obake is also referencing something my one math teacher would say: "easier than falling off a log backwards in a swamp at midnight." Granted I was rubbish at math growing up so my sentiment was always I'd rather be on that log. Numachi means swamp or bog in Japanese, reflecting the nature of the island they're visiting. We don't know if there's ogres on that particular island. And Obake and Carl quote the first Skulduggery Pleasant book—you know, before Landy blew the whole thing to kingdom come. :\

So in other news, Tadashi decided that apparently Yokai were very much like little brothers: always demanding to go flying, pouting when they didn't and begging for more when they did. Or maybe it was just Obake.

At the very least, it explained why he and Hiro seemed to get along so well, Hiro cheering for him to go faster and Obake sounding like he was parroting that in Yokainese. Oi, hatchlings—especially when they pointed out a towering cloud formation and begged to go over there.

Tadashi angled around the thunderhead, cupping and angling his wings expertly to send him rocketing around the fantastic shapes faster. Only the most daring and talented of Night Furies flew straight through a thunderstorm—his parents had done so routinely, and Older-Night-Fury had flown with them too and still flew through a thunderstorm when she felt like she could risk it.

Tadashi had yet to work up to that, and despite the real temptation to do so now and potentially lose Obake still strapped to his back, he also had Hiro clinging to his head and cheering at the speed they were flying at. Now was not the time to be experimenting with his flying, nor trying to push his limits. No, he'd take it easy, fly as safely as possible to keep his little brother safe.

He suspected that was part of Hiro's alternative motive here.

But, he thought, tipping his head a little to watch Obake try to reach the cloud, fingertips grazing as they circled around and leaving a wispy trail—but he also had to credit Hiro for being clever and tenacious enough to stick with this. Obake seemed much tamer than when they started, probably because he had a valid reward for behaving now—all the Yokai did, he could see it, see them eyeing the sky like hatchlings did. They had touched the sky now, and the ground would never again be as sweet.

Straighten up, trailing the tip of his wing through the cloud edge as he continued up, aiming for a little hole in the cloud formation in front of him, where he could see more blue sky—corkscrew through it, Hiro's claws tightening as Obake scrambled, shot his wings back out and coasted on the leeward side of the storm. Somewhere deep inside those thunderheads was lightning and thunder and hail and contrary winds and quite possibly Skrill, the solitary hunters of storms who were not above targeting a Night Fury who decided to test their skills in such a storm. Definitely not something he was trying with Hiro accompanying him. Not even something he was going to risk alone, not with an entire flight depending on him.

"How high does it go?" Obake wondered, looking up at the towering cloud formation before them. "How high can we go before the sun melts your wings?"

"Little-Brother, your Yokai is being weird again," Tadashi observed.

"But we can go higher, right?" Hiro asked brightly, eyeing the clouds too.

Tadashi pumped his wings, considering. On the outside, no. Inside that storm though…maybe. Older-Light-Fury had told them about the contrary winds within such a storm, how it had something like a volcano of hot air that got sucked up and then grew heavy with cold and wet to come storming back down. The thing was, he didn't know how to fly a storm like that—he'd need to get Older-Light-Fury to teach him.

But did he want to learn that? Part of him did, the part that always wanted to fly higher and farther, the part that was still that young Fury convinced that if he just flapped hard enough, he could reach the sun and pluck it out of the sky.

Another part, the sensible older-brother part, said that learning with the intent to dive in with his little brother on his back was a bad idea. Hiro could get ripped off by the contrary winds, and since he was too small to be able to use his weight against the winds, he'd be whipped around and around until enough ice coated him and the storm had tired of him before being blasted down to the ocean. You know, if a Skrill didn't nab him first.

And then there was the fact that a Yokai was wanting to go into the storm with him. Forget all his reservations about having a Yokai strapped to his back, he didn't know what the extra weight would do to him, and Hiro would be cross if the storm ripped Obake off his back and dunked him in the ocean. Granted, it'd be a clean way to be rid of him…but still.

"Not today," Tadashi said finally, angling away from the storm and towards the Yokai-nest, feeling Hiro and Obake turning to stare back at the towering clouds. Felt like a pair of hatchlings on his back, the two of them basically on the same misbehaving wavelength.

Was that what bothered him about the two of them together? That either one enabled the other's actions? But that involved viewing Obake on an equal level as his brother as opposed to a cunning and dangerous predator. Forget the fact that dragons themselves were cunning and dangerous predators, Obake had still shot Hiro down and that was a problem.

Sigh, coast in for a landing, let Obake and Hiro get off before hitting the gold disk on the saddle and slipping out of it. The thing that had made him somewhat trust having Obake on his back, because if he tried anything then it would take absolutely no effort to hit that disk and send him flying off.

At the end of the day though, that was a thin trust indeed—eye Obake as he took note of the other Yokai coming for him, watch him sag…maybe he had a way to keep him in line with the flying, the bait that made him sit and behave…squash the part of him that wanted to see the positive, that wanted Hiro to be right, that wanted to see that yes, sharing their flight was imparting a joy and wonder to these ground-bound creatures that they otherwise would never obtain.

But he wasn't yet ready to forgive and forget. Yokai were still dragon-killers. Obake had shot Hiro down. That he had fixed the issue wasn't the concern.

The concern was, simply put, a reverting to nature. Speed Stingers could always be trusted to sting, that was their nature. Lash Adders could always be trusted to bite, that was their nature.

He wasn't going to be daft enough to think that Yokai could change theirs.

Obake couldn't help the deep sigh upon spotting Carl approaching him, Vinnie following at a respectable pace—stalked forward, past them, wave a hand when Carl tried to address him. "So sorry, very busy, much to do."

"Does it involve doing your job?" Carl asked.

"Don't start on that, I have better things to do."

"Such as?"

"Better. Things," Obake spat, heading for the forge. "As do you."

"Yes I do, starting with informing the chief of his duties for the day."

"Oh good grief go bother someone else," Obake groused, stalking into the forge with the intent of slamming the door and then the shutter for good measure.

"Got that one done bright and early," Vinnie said. "Also, we have a letter."

"We have a what?" Obake asked, squinting at Vinnie as Carl took the letter and opened it. "From who?"

"From a tribe willing to pay handsomely for us to target a neighboring tribe harassing them," Carl read. "They want to meet on neutral ground to negotiate with the chief of Yokai."

Obake scowled at that, snatched the letter away to read himself—

"Do you not have somewhere else to be!?" he spat at Vinnie, sending the demoman scurrying.

Carl watched him disappear before turning his attention back to Obake. "You're not seriously considering this, are you?"

"Of course not," Obake said. "This obviously stinks of a trap. Pity we don't have Callaghan handy—wouldn't mind sending him in to trip it."

Carl made a noise that might have been agreeing but was also equally likely to be dismissive, went back to his papers. "About the tribal logistics—"

"Can't you bother someone else with those?"

"I'm bothering the chief with them."

Oi this again. "Fine, then as chief I'm delegating to you. That works, does it not?"

"Some might call it a cheap cop-out."

"Good for them. Now back to you."

"We haven't been able to get supplies because we don't have anything to trade, and we have to go a good haul away to find someone to trade with," Carl said. "By the time the ships get there anything we could have traded has been used. At best we get pity supplies to get us back. While I'm all for changing the tribe's course, we need something to work with so we can actually function."

"What happened to trading dragon scales?" Obake asked.

"The problem with that is anyone can get dragon scales, they shed them regularly," Carl pointed out. "They don't go as far as we like, and the last time we tried to trade a lot of them it raised questions that we didn't have answers for."

"You found an island while sailing that had a lot of scales it's not that hard," he hissed. "And then what about that island full of sea glass I told you about? That fetches a pretty penny, last I checked."

"And then the more we trade the less they're worth," Carl added.

Ah, the joy of economics. Stalk away, pace the forge, considering—

Glance at the letter again. The wording indicated that it was one of the lesser mercenary tribes begging for help, one that did so poorly that it did have to rely on farming and fishing in order to stay afloat. It was willing to trade food and supplies for assistance, was willing to provide a tribute up front for them to consider, was not willing to name themselves in the letter for fear of the information being sold to the highest bidder and would be doing their initial negotiations via another tribe.

Consider. This stank of a trap, most certainly, but at the same time they were desperate themselves, desperate times and all that rubbish. If it were a trap, they could take out the fools setting it and rob them blind, giving them some breathing room. If it were not, they could take that payout, sell the information, and have one less mercenary tribe to deal with on top of getting some breathing room.

Carl pieced it together as well. "You're not seriously considering that."

"I'm weighing the pros and cons," he admitted. "Suggestions on the cons."

"We get outmaneuvered, we get ambushed, we get killed," Carl said, ticking them off on his fingers. "We'd be sailing into a trap."

Yes, this was true, unfortunately—he knew the meeting island, it had a bay that was fairly easy to button a person up in, had multiple fjords that could hide ships, was more marsh than rock so not many hiding places…it was a neutral zone for mercenary tribes for the simple reason that it was so hard to actually take the island—with the island itself being about worthless—that no one had bothered.

Startled out of his musings by Hiro chuffing, turned to see the little dragon dragging Tadashi's saddle in, hopping onto it and barking, demanding another flight.

Obake felt his smile grow, first from a thin slit to something that showed teeth, as a way to get in and out of the island without being spotted coalesced before him.

"What if we weren't sailing?"

So when Obake had made the saddle for Wasabi it had been mostly for his own entertainment but also as a bribe for Carl. Imagine a chief able to get from one side of the island to the next with little to no issue!

Carl had, regrettably, turned that one back on him by pointing out that a Night Fury was faster, but had accepted the saddle just the same. Also regrettable was the fact that he and Wasabi hadn't practiced as much as Obake had insisted he and Tadashi do, but at the very least they were functioning enough that they were able to get airborne and follow Tadashi as he angled in the direction Obake indicated.

"I question this," Carl said, looking at the ground disappearing beneath them and the ocean streaming far beneath as they set off.

"The logic is sound enough," Obake argued, eyeing Wasabi's saddle critically—theoretically, calculating distance and speed, they should be able to make it to the island in…hrm, perhaps a day, maybe two, definitely wouldn't be a trip that'd take well over a week to make as it would be in a ship. At the very least, he had plenty of sunlight to examine how that particular saddle held up.

"It's just an observation," Carl pointed out. "You did express concerns at other people learning about this."

"Ah, but you see, we're going to arrive there at nightfall and the dragons are going to hide in the woods," Obake argued. "And it'll add to the mystique—a heavily-fortified island, and yet two Yokai were able to materialize in its midst without any clear means of doing so. I'm sure they'll hesitate at the thought of ghosts in their ranks."

"I thought you didn't care for that assessment."

"How I feel about it depends on the day," Obake said, returning his attention to the flight at hand. Already they were covering much more distance than they would have by boat and he wasn't feeling ill about it either, so he was counting this mode of travel as a win. Done much faster than if they had sailed there, and with fewer issues.

"What if we have to escape in a hurry?" Carl asked.

Ah right, there was one big issue at least.

"The plan is we do this at night," Obake told him. "Dark coats in a dark marsh—we might as well find logs to fall backwards off of while we're at it."

"This requires us being able to get out of the situation we find ourselves in."

"They'll probably favor some sort of back room—thinking they're being oh so original." Obake rolled his eyes at that. "There will probably be a window, and if there's not, we make a back door—the buildings on this island are wood, mostly, they won't provide much resistance. And I'm sure someone would be willing to stage a daring rescue. Hopefully," he added, cutting a glare at Tadashi's blunt head.

Tadashi made a dismissive noise at that, but the sounds from Hiro and Wasabi were more hopeful—pity he couldn't have brought along another dragon, he'd trust it more than any of the Yokai at this point, and Tadashi's loyalty was questionable at best.

"I've got Calhoun watching the tribe, by the way," Carl offered. "She should be able to keep everything in order while we're gone."

"She's the quartermaster—one would think," Obake observed drily.

"You're supposed to ask who's keeping an eye on the tribe earlier than this, by the way."

"Carl I don't care," Obake countered, turning in the saddle to better address the man. "The island could burn down and fall into the ocean for as much as I care. Find something else to nag me about."

The way Carl narrowed his eyes at him suggested that yes, there was plenty he could think of and it was just a matter of picking one.

"Nevermind," Obake groused, tapping Tadashi on the head. "Go faster, I can't stand this whole conversation anymore."

Tadashi's response was to pointedly slow down so he and Wasabi were just barely missing each other on their strokes, putting him and Carl closer together.

"I hate you both," Obake sighed.

Numachi Island, during the day, at best looked like a piece of algae dropped into the ocean—irregular and green and wet with the spindly structures of trees, buildings, ramps and piers growing along it.

At night, it was barely discernable from the rest of the ocean but for the lamps outlining the populated parts—and more than a few detailing where the ships were hiding in the fjords, Obake was pleased to note.

"So this certainly looks like a trap," he observed as they circled, quite chuffed with this birds-eye view, part of him lamenting that he hadn't been able to obtain this vantage point sooner before reminding himself that that would have had him still under Callaghan. Not that he was convinced that his current situation was any better, but still.

"Does this change the plan?" Carl asked.

"No, this does not change the plan, it just verifies it—no one expects someone going in and purposefully tripping a trap to see how it works."

A pause where Carl might have nodded. "That'll teach them to underestimate stupid people," he muttered.

Unfortunately, Obake couldn't fully disagree with that assessment, but by then the dragons had picked a good place to land where they wouldn't be immediately made by anyone doing any less than tripping over them.

"If we need you, we'll whistle," Obake told Tadashi, leaping for the walkway above his head and hauling himself up. "Hiro, stay."

"Screaming also works," Carl said, having an easier time of getting up thanks to Wasabi being nice enough to lift his head up close. Oi vey. "Are we sure about this plan? Are we sure we're sure?"

"Carl, if you're going to question this the whole way then don't come," Obake snapped, finally succeeding in getting Hiro to sit down next to Tadashi (and sulk). "I can handle this myself."

"No you can't," Carl said, frustratingly reasonable. "You need someone watching your back."

UGH. "Carl, the main reason I brought you was intimidation factor," Obake spat, tugging out the simplified Yokai mask he had brought for this—no point in wearing one styled after the Furies, that would just open up questions he didn't feel like answering. "You're starting to make me wish I had brought someone else."

"Like who?"

Oi don't ask him questions he didn't have answers for. "Just—do me a favor, don't talk, look intimidating." Slip on his mask, peek around the corner of a near building, spot where a couple of burly men were guarding a door and watching the pier. Make it obvious, why don't you. Motion for Carl to follow him, count off the buildings until they were behind the one the men were guarding. No door, no window. Now, do we bother with going up front, or do we be proactive and make the back door ahead of time.

Being proactive won out, Carl helping him lever and rip the boards off with little prompting—such a pity the mask hid his grin and flaring face when he peered in at the startled men. "Hello—I understand you were asking for the Yokai."

A man being pointed at cleared his throat. "Er—yes—your chief?"

"Didn't want to deal with an obvious trap," Obake said, leaning against the wall and sheathing his knife—subtle message that these goons weren't the threat they thought they were. "We came in his stead."

"Right," the guy who had done the pointing said, feeling around for the door. "I'm just going to be…somewhere else."

"Nerves of steel, that one," Obake said in an aside to Carl. "But back to you—the Moss-Huts, correct?"

"Yes, here on behalf of the tribe that contacted you," the guy who acted in charge said. "Who are you?"

"You don't need to know names."

"I do if we're to do dealings."

"We're not," Obake told him. "We're taking the tribute you're providing back to our chief, and if it's satisfactory then we'll discuss doing dealings."

"No," the man said, more steel in him than his underlings currently possessed. "As far as we know you're playing at being Yokai, thinking to pull one over us and rob us, leaving us holding the bag when the real Yokai appear."

In retrospect, that would have been a good scheme, would have been a nice way to ferret out more information. "No one in the entire Archipelago would dare imitate the Yokai."

"They would if they heard the Yokai were defanged," the man pressed. "I heard of what happened at the mercenary meeting—if you are with the Yokai, then prove it."

Obake tipped his head. "What would you have me do? Murder your men? Hang you by your own intestines? You don't ask the Yokai to prove themselves."

"I want proof," the man insisted. "Anyone could don a black coat and porcelain mask, and after that meeting yes they would dare."

This might be the schism in the Yokai catching up with them, but Obake had proof enough—tug his mask off, glare at the man as he let his face flare. "Is Callaghan's pet ghost enough for you?"

Several of the men balked, pressing themselves against the far wall—the man nodded. "Yes, it is." Strike the wall—

Obake looked sharply at the sound of Carl being tackled—

Went flying as the wall exploded.

Scrambled to get his feet under him, ears ringing—yelped when the floor fell out from beneath him, sending him squelching deep into the boggy ground beneath him—struggle upright, squawk when a meaty hand grabbed him—oh please be Carl—

Fist to the head told him he wasn't that lucky.

Hiro had very much not listened to anyone, Hiro had snuck after Obake as soon as Tadashi and Wasabi were even vaguely distracted, carefully worming his way through the bog under the wooden walkways before deciding that the walkways were a better idea, snuck up, ear flaps up to listen for Obake—

Ran forward when he heard Obake in distress, screeching for his brother when he spotted Carl fighting off at least three guys—stagger when those in the town started the distress-calls that fouled up dragon senses—

Leap into a ruined nest, teeth flashing as he angled for the guy hauling Obake away, biting down hard on the guy's arm before leaping for Obake—guy pulled out a claw, snarling—

Panic, bolt shot sent the guy flying—

A sack and then a blow to the head told him he shouldn't have spent it on a single target.