Ghost's Reign Chapter 50: Won't You Fly High, a How to Train Your Dragon + Big Hero 6 Crossover fanfic

Chapter 50, everybody! Oh goodness two weeks in a row what is this madness.

What intrigues me about archery is that modern perceptions has it as something women favor due to the distance from danger it affords, yet historically it was something primarily men did due to the strength required to draw the bow. In other news, Vinnie is quoting Mrs. Doubtfire and a lot of his in-movie quotes.

In the meantime Helga is dickering with Trader Johann...reds and purples are the rarer colors for sea glass, usually you get blue, green and brown because generally, they were old beer bottles that got worked over by the ocean. As for Obake's thing with the obstacle course...someone put "Free Bird" over Maverick making that run in Top Gun: Maverick in two minutes and yes that inspired this bit here as well as the chapter title. And yes Hiro's quoting the kid from The Incredibles. And no, that's not Diego Cruz—we're having an Ice Age reference.

In other news, if anyone would be so kind as to give Obake something to do besides try to train a bunch of nudniks to fly dragons, he'd be grateful.

On the positive side, they had mostly progressed past lesson zero; unfortunately, this also meant that several of them thought this automatically made them experts, which meant he had to humor Calhoun on cooking up some sort of rigamarole to keep them occupied. And since he didn't want her flying drills, that meant several long arguments and discussions on what they could do instead.

It took about a week to get something agreed upon and set up, had Calhoun and Kasso fly the finished obstacle course to show these fools how it was done, leave her to supervise while he went and did other things. Like lament the failure of trading and hope Helga was having a better time of it. Drat it all, you'd think sea glass would be enough of a shift that it would get them some proper supplies, but they couldn't flood the market with it without shooting themselves in the foot—this required patience, which was not a trait Yokai were known for.

Case in point—Calhoun reporting after about a week that the riders felt that running the obstacle course in the intended time while hitting every target was impossible.

"Do they really, or are they just chafing at having to have self-discipline for once?" he asked blandly, focusing on the stitching on a new saddle; yay, another idiot in the air.

"Personally I feel it's the latter," Calhoun said. "My men are making solid improvements."

"Braggart," he teased. Let's see, one of those men were riding a Rumblehorn, which weren't known for speed, so that made sense...the rest, not so much. "I suppose the old maxim of practice makes perfect isn't working?"

"Nor is the old maxim of take a lap."

"And let me guess: your throat needs a break so you want me to go yell at them."

"I'll settle for aggravated hiss."

Glower at her jest, look over his to-do list scattered about him. "Let me finish this up first, I only want to explain this once."

Arch her eyebrow, evaluate him for a long beat...apparently decided that he had a point. "Don't leave me waiting."

Oi vey.

He was dealing with Audrey about an hour later, double-checking to make sure the saddle fit her Nadder properly.

"Do you want an explanation, or are you just going to hop on and hope for the best?" he asked her drily, recalling earlier in the month where she had been pretty self-assured on how to train a dragon right up until he had to tackle her away from the dragon she had startled.

"Yeah yeah I get your point," she said, waving him off. "I notice this sits farther back than 'Kase's."

"Momakase doesn't engage much in archery; you need the space to aim around the spines."

Audrey climbed into the saddle, tested this—scooted closer to where the saddle sat on Gogo, tested her bow again. "Okay fine I see your point. How soon do I need to be running that obstacle course?"

"Preferably after you learn how to stay in the saddle," Obake said; sighed when he spotted Vinnie coming up, his Nightmare Kazan behind him. "Not again."

"Had a little accident," Vinnie said, holding up the saddle with the singed straps.

"Of course you did—would it kill you to not set your saddle on fire!?"

"The saddles aren't fireproof?" Audrey asked. "Nightmare saddles aren't fireproof?"

"You hush I'm working on it," he grumbled, heading for the forge.

Vinnie followed, depositing the saddle on the counter. "I was thinking—while you're doing the repairs maybe some edits to the saddle—something sporty, you know, like a tuna?"

"If I had one I'd slap you with it," Obake grumbled, considering the whole mess in front of him. Maybe something utilizing the Nightmare's own scales, since the dragon (or rather, its spit) was fireproof. "As it sits, I'm running out of leather because of your indiscretions."

"The glass isn't working either?" Audrey asked, clinging on for dear life as her Nadder trotted around the street.

"The glass is working, it's just the matter of the amount of stuff we need." Oi going back to marauding was getting more tempting by the day. "We need something else to cycle to so we don't flood the market."

"Maybe I have something," Vinnie volunteered, rooting through his pack. "Pay for my saddle. Let's see...dynamite, gunpowder, fuses...road flare," he offered, pulling it out to show Obake. "Couple of cherry bombs...paper clips. Big ones. Oh—these guys," he added, pulling out what looked like little glass balls capped with wax. "Finally got some Zippleback gas, cap has some Nightmare spit, give it a good chuck and boom—no more Chinese laundry."

Obake took one of the balls and examined it, could see the gas swirling inside. "How volatile?"

"I wouldn't sneeze while holding one."

Consider it for a long beat before handing it back to Vinnie. "Don't sell those, I get the feeling we'll be needing them."

"I thought we weren't marauding anymore," Audrey said as her Nadder paused next to them, chittering.

"Let's just say I don't see the wisdom in handing out weapons that can be used against us." Not to mention that someone smart enough to figure out the components would then question how they obtained them, and they already had the problem of their activities leaking out.

Hopefully Helga would get some decent information.

There was really truly only one place to get information quickly and effectively, and Helga was well-versed in the how and where. Hence why, after getting what she needed, she headed for one of the trade islands. This particular one dealt with the currents and trade routes between here and the Meridian of Misery, it would be a good starting point.

And thus, after ensuring Kogeki was hid and changing her clothes, she headed into the town, blending into the crowd and heading to the trading hub, scanning for and identifying the head of the guild as quickly as she could, confirming it before heading over to the pertinent table.

"Ah, pretty lady—" the man greeted.

"Cut the chit-chat," she said, depositing a small bag on his table. The man shrugged, opened the bag to examine the contents—

"I already know what they're worth," she said as he pulled out several pieces of sea glass, the rarer reds and purples. "I'm willing to trade for information; whether you get the bag or not depends on whether I like the answers or not."

"I see," the man said, folding his hands before freeing one up to smooth down his tunic. "Well, what information do you need? I've sailed through all these seas, fought—"

"I said I wasn't interested in idle chit-chat," she reminded him. "I have two questions; one about a rumor, the other affects me personally."

"Of course, of course...eh, which ship did you say you were with?"

"I didn't, and it doesn't matter—I'll be hopping another one soon."

"Pirate?"

"Sailor. Which brings me to the personal question." Take her hand out of her pocket, deposit several of Kogeki's shed scales on the table.

"Sometimes, when we stop at an island for food and supplies, we find dragon scales," she said. "I'll save them for when we get to a village, and I trade them for goods. Only now I find that they don't go as far. Why?"

"Well, you know, supply and demand," he waffled—grabbed the bag of sea glass when she moved to take it back. "Look, you don't ask a trader to give away his secrets."

"I do. Now give me the glass back."

The man closed his eyes and worked his jaw like she was asking for his heart on a spit (she didn't recommend it, too messy). "There's...tribes, up north, that are flooding the market."

"Really," she said drily. "Of every dragon's scales? I recently sailed with a man who said he had genuine Night Fury scales that he couldn't give away at this island."

"How do you know they were authentic?" the man challenged.

"Even if they weren't, there was nothing stopping you from taking advantage of the man and turning around and selling at a profit."

"My dear, that's what trading is—do you think I'd be doing this if I wasn't making a profit? All the pain, all the freezing nights, all the—"

"You're not going to be making a profit if you don't stay on topic."

"Right," the man sighed. "I could confirm the authenticity of Night Fury scales, but I can't tell you how I came by this information. It's not you!" he said quickly when she tried to take the bag again. "It's one of my contacts up north—I have to defend my sources, otherwise my profit margin takes a big hit."

"Or you do."

"Yes well...was that your questions answered?" he asked, starting to tug the glass away.

"Not yet," she said, plucking the bag back and plunking it back on the table. "The rumor I heard, I want to know if there's any authenticity to it. Seeing how you're a trader and there's a profit to be had, I figured you might have the information on it."

"My dear, I assure you that if there's any rumor of profit, I, Trader Johann, have heard of it."

She tipped her head a little, something she had subconsciously picked up from Obake. "What of the one rumor, that someone in the Archipelago is willing to pay good money for a live obake?"

Trader Johann flinched at that one—glanced around before tugging out a little jar. "Ah—before I answer that, can I interest you in some spice?"

Roll her eyes, dip a finger in before licking it—five-powder spice.

"Do you want me to mark my face or throw it over my shoulder as well, or was that enough proof for you?" she asked drily. Johann at least had the decency to look sheepish, but that didn't stop him from tossing a pinch over his shoulder before sprinkling some on the table.

"I don't know who's asking for that," he admitted finally. "There's some blond fellow who's been spreading the offer on behalf of his mistress, he says, but I don't know where he hails from or who he serves. As it sits, I don't think there's any other way to get further information unless you find the man and the ship he's on—no one in this area is taking the offer seriously. The Moss-Huts, I heard, tried to cash in on that offer, but..." Move a hand as though their fates were self-evident.

"I heard they had been wiped out," she said. "Dragons, wasn't it?"

"Possibly," Johann said, rubbing his hands as he leaned on his elbows. "The offer is a wild goose-chase anyway—obake operate on being undetected until it's too late; he's probably flooded with people collected off of rudderless boats." Take another pinch of spice and throw it over his shoulder. "To my knowledge, there's only one confirmed obake in these waters, and you had better hope he stays snug and secure in the middle of the Ghost Archipelago."

Obake of the Yokai. "Do you have any idea where this man was heading?" she asked. "That'll affect the ship I pick when I shove off."

"You're not seriously thinking of taking up his offer."

"I'm curious," she said. "It's not that often you see that level of insanity without it being tied to a mast and left for the Submarippers to eat."

"Last I knew he was heading to Berserker Island; you don't want to go there," Johann said. "I can say he was flying a distinct standard—looked a mite like a twisted ladder, although I can't fathom what that's supposed to mean."

"I suppose that's the best you can do?" she asked, shaking the bag slightly, watching him watch the movement.

"I can't give what I don't have."

Consider him, scanning his expression...finally put the bag down. "A jar of five-powder spice and we'll call it even."

"Now that is a deal I can make."

To be fair, Obake had also wanted some time to practice the run with Tadashi, just to make certain that he wasn't about to make a fool of himself. It was generally something they practiced really early or really late to avoid having eyes on them, so he was fairly confident at his upcoming stunt.

Now hopefully he could put his money where his mouth was—doing this in low-light situations was vastly different than doing this close to noon, when Calhoun wanted.

It took the remainder of the good coffee to get himself enervated enough to get over there, making sure he kept a resting done face as he got a response to the demand of what, exactly, they thought they were doing.

"I would buy this from the ones riding the Boulder-class dragons," he said finally. "The rest of you have no excuse."

This actually got some argument from the people riding the Boulder-class dragons in question, surprisingly defending their dragons' lower speeds and arguing that made it easier to aim—which was the main source of beef from the others. To meet the time limit meant going at a speed where they kept missing, to their irritation.

"I flew it yesterday," Audrey told him. "Main issue is getting used to doing this while flying, it's no different than shooting arrows when the sea's choppy."

"I see. Any countermands to that?" Obake asked the larger group mildly. "I'm not certain if you've noticed, but everything is at a premium. I don't care if it takes you more practice, I want accuracy."

"The speed thing is still an issue," Dave offered.

"I can't deny that," Audrey told Obake.

Obake's response to that was to pointedly roll his eyes hard enough that he ended up rolling his neck as well—dismissed all of them to focus on Calhoun. "Remind me what the current goal time is."

"Five minutes," Calhoun said.

"Set the timer for two," he ordered, stalking over to where Tadashi was waiting, already saddled up. Let Obake get on, trot over to where the starting point on the edge of the cliff was as Obake tugged his mask on—

In the next heartbeat Obake was glad that he had managed to pull it on first—in their practicing, Tadashi had never flipped backwards off the cliff before, was pretty sure the idiot dragon had shot the rest of them a gummy grin and wink as they went.

Arrow straight down the cliff, barely shooting out before hitting the water, sending up a rooster tail before shooting back up—twisting whenever they neared one of the targets so Obake could get a clear shot, each one belting out a sharp ding as the metal tip of the bolt hit the metal sheets with targets painted on them—Tadashi shot out a bolt or two himself, accidentally negating the farthest sea stack with targets on it—

Did a spin when they shot back up to the cliff, bleeding off all their speed and looking impressive while doing so, touching down lightly and allowing Obake enough time to compose himself, making it look like this had taken no effort at all.

"Time?" he asked Calhoun mildly.

Calhoun checked the timing device. "Minute forty-seven seconds," she reported.

"Oh look at that, it can be done," he jeered. "In a third of the time you're being asked to match, and now with a simpler run to do it on. Any further complaints, or are you all done being made fools of?"

Silence suggested the latter. Tap Tadashi on the side facing the cliff, grinned at Calhoun as he tipped. "Have fun."

Tadashi hooted with his own enjoyment, weaved through the sea stacks again for good measure as they streaked off.

That definitely felt better than he had expected.

So that went better than Tadashi had hoped.

For starters he had pulled off the backflip and stuck the landing, those were the two big things he had been worried about. The course itself, not so much, he had been flying it in his spare time with dragons who were wanting to practice while their riders were busy with other things, doing his best to assuage their worries about whether or not they could pass Calhoun's test what if that means we can't go flying together? Many times, he was baffled by the notion that any dragon would want a bloodthirsty Yokai on their back, in a position where they had to trust that the Yokai would behave themselves and use the shooting-bite to hit targets and not dragons.

Other times, he recalled the fact that Obake insisted on flying that same course in the dark and relied primarily on moonlight and Tadashi's own flying to A) hit the targets and B) not get scraped off at high speed. The same Yokai who now also insisted on practicing 'wing walking' every day, having found a new trick he wanted to master and focusing on that as much as possible. Honestly, in some ways he reminded Tadashi of a Night Fury, could understand why Hiro was inclined to think positively of him. Whether or not he, Tadashi, was fully inclined to be the same way...ehh that was an entirely different current that still made him nervous when he flirted with it.

Currently, however, they were both hiding from alpha duties on a sea stack on the other side of the island, Hiro bouncing around them as Obake leaned against Tadashi's side and scribbled on dry-leaf stacks, both of them bobbing their heads as Hiro excitedly recounted a blow-by-blow account of their run of the obstacle course. Glance at the dry-leaves as Hiro once again described the destruction of the one sea stack, huffed a question in Obake's direction.

"Contemplating figuring out moving obstacles to add to the course," Obake muttered, gnawing on the end of his scribble-stick as he glared at the dry-leaves. "Would the extra effort be worth it, is the question."

Tadashi quietly resigned himself to moving obstacles in the course. Looked when Hiro finally flopped down across his front paws. "Are you done?" he asked.

"That was TOTALLY WICKED," Hiro exclaimed, sticking all four paws into the air. "I am SO going to beat your time I bet I can."

"Like Obake said, the course is shorter now." Flick an ear at that, at the taps that had been the signal to do that—on the one paw, he wasn't too keen on acting the trained dragon. On the other...okay fine explosions were cool and the course had likely been too long for every different kind of dragon to fly in the desired time.

"I still wonder about all this," Tadashi said, glancing back at Obake, still absorbed in his scribbles.

Hiro rolled so he had his paws tucked under him and his jaw resting on Tadashi's forelimb. "Maybe it's to see who's serious about all this. Like...right now it's a novelty, but taking care of them does take work." Seemed aware of Tadashi raising an eye ridge at him. "I know, I know, I make it look effortless—HEY!" he barked when Tadashi snorted. Bapped him a couple of times on the nose before padding indignantly over to Obake.

"Come to sulk?" Obake asked drily.

"I want to see what you're doing," Hiro said. "Ooh wait I know this one! Not that one," he added, poking a claw at a different spot on the dry-leaves before moving his claw around. Tadashi watched, an ear flap raised, saw Obake arch an eye ridge before scrubbing at the ground, drawing a scribble and telling Hiro what it meant.

Tadashi's attention drifted across the nest as Hiro and Obake sunk into their scribbles; Yokai on dragonback still felt like it could end badly, like it was the start of something that had the potential to be dangerous.

And yet he could see dragons being excited about this when they circled back to the nest, spotted Longtooth, now gift-named Diego, balancing along the ridge of a Yokai-nest with a brand-new saddle on his back, a Yokai clinging to his back nervously—recognized the Yokai as Vitani when Diego leaped to a nearer Yokai-nest, pausing to check to make sure she was still there. Maybe Hiro was right, and they viewed this as an exotic pet, a new challenge to overcome. Definitely felt the Nightmares thought that way, could spot a few posturing and arguing about how their Yokai was obviously the best. Was even surprised to see a cloud of Terrors had all decided to co-op on a Yokai, one of the big burly ones was coated in them and feeding them individually with tiny fish...okay that was likely because he was feeding them Terrors were notorious for following you around if you shared your scraps.

Retreated to the spine of Obake's fire-nest in the middle of the village when he went in to do stuff involving fire and metal, laid there as he tried to straighten all this out. Everyone seemed willing to move on, despite all the spilled blood between them.

They had a bad alpha too. And yet he was supposed to believe that they were truly benign unless being egged on by a bad alpha? Yes, the argument could be made against dragons as well, but...sigh. There were bad dragons too, ones inclined to view them as lesser even after seeing that they weren't. He had seen that for himself, had his own prejudices thrown in his face, couldn't exactly claim ignorance anymore. He still had reservations, and yet...

And yet a good alpha listened to his flight, he reflected, spotting Sharptongue with her Yokai. He'd still keep an eye out for anything untoward, but...they wanted this to work.

And maybe, part of him wanted it to work as well.

So in other news, this had been a good day.

It had been at the end of a long week, but Obake had no complaints, the dragons had no complaints, the Yokai had no complaints...matter of fact, Calhoun was happily reporting that several flight pairs had broken the five-minute mark and were now working to try and beat four minutes. Everyone who had a saddle was now treating flying like serious scales, competing to see who was the best and cheering at their accomplishments. Things were finally looking up and Hiro agreed with Tadashi on Obake giving them another week before figuring out moving obstacles on the course.

Hiro wallowed in Obake's bed, squeaked in alarm at being scooped up, squirmed and squeaked when Obake hugged him and rolled a bit in the bed, matching his play-growls—this was the first time in a long time that Obake had been in a truly good mood, and if that meant he wanted to play then Hiro was willing to go for it, even if Obake did tire out before Hiro did. Purr while Obake rested his head on Hiro's, hugging the little Fury's warm body close to his bony, cold one…why was he always so cold? Obviously he needed to spend more time with the rest of the flight, or at least stay tucked under a wing at nights like hatchlings that couldn't control their inner fire yet.

"Are you still here?" Hiro asked, when he realized that Obake had been staring at nothing for a long while. He didn't feel distant like he had those times before, not in a dangerous, falling-down-a-pit way, but it made him worry that it would develop as such. "Hey," he noised, nudging him a little. "A fish for your thoughts."

"Is it even possible," Obake mused. "Can you truly change someone's nature? Momakase and Carl both seem to think so, under proper guidance." Snort—Hiro figured he found the idea that his guidance was proper amusing somehow. "But can you really break twenty years of habit, make it as if it never were? Is it even possible to take the Yokai and change them into something else?"

Hiro hummed pensively, to let Obake know that he was paying attention and considering the question. "Maybe…maybe if they really want to change," he offered. "Maybe some…maybe for some things run bone-deep, and can't change no matter what you do. I don't think you'd ever want to be anything but clever." Turn his head so Obake could see the green eyes considering him, ear flaps up but twitching in thoughtfulness. "I think the things—the core things—the things that make us us…I don't think you can change those. But bad behavior, bad habits…I think you can. I think those can be broken." Press his head against Obake's chest. "I think that yes, you can tear out what causes those old wounds, tend to them and let them heal…there's still going to be a scar, but scars are a part of us, a part of life—we're more than our scars." Bump his nose against Obake's jaw. "I wish you could understand me."

And yet maybe he understood more than Hiro thought—hugged him close, not the tight desperateness he had felt before, but calm, happy…content. Despite everything else that went on with their lives, this, at least, was good.

And later, when both of them were curled up under Tadashi's wing, the sounds of other dragons sleeping…Hiro felt that same contentment. It would take a while, but anything worth having was worth having to fight for.

And this—this felt like something worth fighting for.