The Beginning and The End

by JustARegularGuy97

Not long after Drago's defeat, there is a new kind of trouble stirring. The Riders once again find themselves facing insurmountable odds, thrust into the war of another people, one that has lasted decades. Their world is shaken to its core as secrets of old are discovered anew. This time, the war might not end, and even if it does, they might not be the ones winning. [DISCONTINUED]

31. Chapter 31: Perception

The sorcerers dispatched to Rome returned to Nisi a few days later.

The mood in the military headquarters was grim. Each team that had been dispatched, each one on the trail of a different riddle from a different chest from the Berkians' little mystery, had come back beaten and bruised. At least five people in total that had been sent out were not present.

Leonidas, sitting inside, looked up through the open doors at the beat of dragon wings through the air, and looked them over as they landed outside the building that served as the center of their operations.

"Where's Lysander?" he asked at last when they came in.

Alphas, being supported by his brother, looked up at that. He glanced around, then returned his gaze to the Commander.

"Where's Ariston?" he retorted quietly, eyes steady and locked onto the Commander.

Leonidas returned his gaze to the ancient documents in front of him.

"Point taken."

He held his hand out, refusing to look up.

"Do you have your next riddle?"

Stratos came forward and placed the little slip of parchment that one of them had died for in the Commander's hand. At that he looked up, surprised. Silently, he regarded the minute symbols inked onto the material.

"Out of six teams," he told them, still without looking at them, "only three have been successful. You're the third to give me their next riddle."

His head finally snapped up. "Congratulations. It was a job well done."

It wasn't often that Leonidas gave compliments. These words were something to treasure.

"Well," he continued, looking back to the riddle they'd given him, "go rest up. You've earned it. If anyone needs medical attention take him to a healer. I'll have the product of your work analyzed by the incompetent fools who call themselves intellectuals."

"That's not a very heartening prospect, is it, Commander?" Alphas replied, after a careful silence.

"Talk to me about heartening prospects when you've sat down with them for three hours every day for the sole, grand purpose of making absolutely no progress," Leonidas told him. "Now, bugger off."

While everyone else turned to leave and take Myron to a healer, Alphas signalled to Omegas to stay put. After the others had gone, Leonidas looked at them again, frowning.

"What?" he asked irritably. "I have enough on my plate right now."

"There's a few things that have happened," Alphas told him. "I think you and the king should both hear them."

Leonidas sighed, and got up from his chair with a clatter, pushing the table away so it scraped against the floor, and walked over to them until he was nose to nose with Alphas, staring him in the eye he could with barely concealed lividity.

"You," he said, only just keeping himself from snarling, "do not deserve to get everything the moment you say it. Convince me that you've got something important to say, or I will throw you out of here and no matter what the king says, I won't be there for your glorious briefing."

"It's standard regulation to hear out a soldier who says he has vital information," Alphas countered calmly.

"You sure as hell aren't going through the proper channels for it," Leonidas responded.

"That's my royal advantage," Alphas told him. "I can bypass the waiting line for the commoners. Now are you going to listen or not? It's important."

Leonidas held his gaze for a few seconds before relenting, and huffed.

"This had better be good. But before anything, get your leg fixed. If Philander sees you coming in like this he'll have a fit."

0=

After Alphas went to a healer, who was extremely surprised to see the shape of what wound ailed him, the twins and Leonidas made their way to the castle, where the king sat waiting, having been informed beforehand that they would be coming to see him.

They entered the throne room, and the king looked impassively down on them from his regal perch.

"Alphas. Omegas," he rumbled. "How was Rome?"

"The fabled city is but a shell of its former self," Alphas replied sarcastically. "It burned to the ground long ago, and all that remain are charred ruins."

"Ha. Don't joke. I am genuinely curious," the king said. "I have never been, myself."

Omegas shrugged. "It's alright. Colourful. Good food."

His uncle frowned. "Is that all you have to say?"

Omegas shrugged again. "I mean, the wolves aren't much of a tourist attraction."

The king's thick brow furrowed even further over his eyes, so it looked like he had none at all. "Wolves?"

"And that," Alphas interjected, "brings us to why I've asked to have an audience with the two of you. Commander, recount your experience below Berk and whatever we know about the riddles, will you?"

Leonidas gave him a warning look, before beginning to speak.

"There's not much to say. There were a few tunnels rigged with traps, some magical, some not. The final room had seven pedestals, each with a chest containing a scroll with a riddle. Myre had taken one, so that leaves six. We've been after each of the six we have, and so far we've managed to get three more. Each of the original 6 pointed to non-magical locations. Rome, Egypt, Japan, Greece, China, and the Hyperborean ecumene."

Omegas frowned. "Sorry, the what?"

"Hyperborean ecumene," Leonidas repeated. "A very, very large continent to the far west."

"If it's in the west, why is it the Hyperborean ecumene, and not the Hyperdytikan?"

"Because you can either sail across the whole damn Atlantic Ocean to get there, or you can travel by dragon to the Hyperborean regions and cross the strait between the two lands, which is a much shorter journey by comparison."

Omegas pursed his lips. "I still think Hyperdytikan is a better name."

"It's not up to you," Leonidas told him. He turned to Alphas. "Now what have you dragged me here to say?"

"Before that," Alphas asked, "do you know what the next riddles are about? If there's a pattern that would be good to know."

Leonidas shook his head. "The first two riddles are being bombarded with incompetency by our myriad 'scholars', and only I've read the one your group brought me."

"Ah," the king said, "congratulations on your success."

"Yes yes, very well done," Leonidas said. "Now for the love of all the gods will you get on with it?"

Alphas held up a finger.

"One more question."

A vein pulsed in the Commander's forehead.

"It better be good," he growled.

"What kind of opposition did the other teams face?"

Leonidas gave him a confused look, all the irritation gone. "Opposition? There was no opposition, unless you count the natives trying to stop us from taking their oh-so-mystical artifact. Three people from three teams died from regular weapons because of that. The team that went to Egypt lost two people, but that was because the Egyptians had put the riddle in one of their crypt things and set up traps. The last one couldn't find anything. What the hell do you mean by opposition?"

The last sentence came out as a hiss, Leonidas asked it with such intensity.

Finally, Alphas narrated everything that had happened in Rome, and how Lysander had died.

"Wolves. Damn huge wolves as tall as buildings," Leonidas said at last. He put his hands to his face and groaned. "What next? Giant rats? Is Myre going to set sharks the size of cliffs on us?"

"We can only wait and see," the king sighed, his cheek on his fist and his elbow on the armrest of his throne, staring melancholically at the floor. "After a revelation like this, we cannot truly dismiss any possibilities pertaining to giant animals. An annoyingly ridiculous prospect."

Alphas cleared his throat meaningfully. Both leaders looked at him.

"First, the eggs that you sent me to get."

"You mean the mission the Berkians screwed over, kicked into the dirt and then set on fire," Leonidas said, dropping his hands to his sides again. "I remember."

"If you want to put it like that. They've hatched, and Myre used them once, to scout us."

"More Berkian messes," Leonidas said. "As if our own people aren't fool enough."

"So, Myre's used them once," Alphas continued, ignoring the Commander. "Where have they been since then? Why hasn't he used them? Those dragons could change the tide of the war, so why hasn't he set them on us?"

There was a brief silence.

"It better not be out of politeness," Leonidas snarled. "I'd rather be victim to some plot of his than find out it was out of pity."

"First, and it's only just hit me how important this is, even though it first started around the time I met the Vikings and then when we went to retake Berk-"

"'Met' is a light way to put it," Leonidas remarked.

Alphas waved his hand airily, dismissing him. "The past is in the past, Commander. We're all friends now."

"Anyway," he continued, "I should have noticed the moment it first happened with Caird on Berk, but I've only just realized it now."

"Get on with it," Leonidas said. "You're wasting valuable time with these dramaticisms."

"Sorry," Alphas said. "Anyway, first it was Caird, then Myre, and now Umbra. They all have weapons that are immune to Indus steel."

"What do you mean, immune?" Leonidas said, sitting down as a couple of palace servants brought them all chairs.

"When Indus steel hits their weapons, it doesn't cut through."

Everyone fell silent, again, at that. Even the palace servants hesitated as they went to set down the princes' chairs.

"That is…" the king struggled for words. "Problematic, to say the least."

"Problematic?" Leonidas exploded, standing up so fast his chair was thrown backwards. "Problematic? It's damn near disastrous, Philander! They can counter our weapons with who knows what kind of new metal!"

The servants scurried away at this outburst, hurriedly shutting the door behind them with a snap of wood.

In the quiet following Leonidas' outcry, Omegas raised his hand.

"I might have an idea what metal they're using."

"What would you know?" Leonidas almost howled. "Go on. Spit it out. I'm anxious to know what idiotic joke you're about to tell me. What is it, silver? Are they using silver on us? Are we werewolves now? Tell me!"

Omegas looked hurt. "There's no need for that. I genuinely have an idea. While we were shipwrecked on that island, the one with the Insidians, one of the Vikings told me about a metal they'd discovered how to make that was just like Indus steel, except it wasn't made using magic."

Alphas started at this. "Come to think of it, I crossed swords with the chief when they captured me. I didn't notice at the time, because I was angry that they'd hurt Wreckage, but I couldn't cut his fire sword either."

"I wish I had a fire sword. Anyway, they called it Gronckle iron," Omegas supplied helpfully. "Maybe that's it?"

0=

Later, Leonidas had a meeting with the scholars of Nisi, or as he liked to call them, stupid bastards.

"Don't even talk to me," was the first thing he said as he sauntered into the room where they had gathered. It was bare except for a long wooden table with a white tablecloth in the center, and a lot of chairs. A lamp burned in each corner of the room.

The Commander's one visible eye was devoid of the rage the scholars had come to expect every time they saw him. He just looked tired now, fed up beyond any point of recovery.

He held up a large glass, in which sloshed a clear liquid. "This is the strongest alcohol I could find. Until I finish it, none of you are allowed to speak. I've decided I cannot handle your bullshit without a drink."

And, to the horror of everyone in that room, he slowly drained the entire glass in a single shot.

He calmly set it down on the table. And then he collapsed.

They let him lie there for a few minutes until he started snoring. At that point, one of them nervously approached and shook him awake.

"Er, Commander? Are you alright?"

He groaned and sat up. Immediately, he clutched his head.

Leonidas got up and staggered to the chair at the head of the table, crashing into the wall several times as he made his way there.

"One of you tell them to get me a jug of water," he croaked as he seated himself. Then his head fell forward onto the table.

"This is the worst day of my life," he said, voice muffled.

Eventually, a jug of water and a glass was set down before him, and he looked up. Ignoring the glass completely, he drank half the jug in a single breath, then set it down.

"I hate all of you," he said, to the room at large. He slapped the newest riddle on the table, then folded his arms on the table and put his head down.

"Have fun. I'm going to sleep. Don't even think of running away. When I wake up, I want all of you to be right here and you'll tell me your best answers. Good night."

And he didn't say another word or even move for the next few hours, in which the assembled scholars laughed about his unfortunate experience with the drink, pored over the latest riddle, and requested food to be brought to the table. When Leonidas finally stirred that evening, they were having an argument about the functions of geometry in magic.

"I'm hungry," was the first thing he said, and the room quietened. Then he noticed the dirty plates, which had not yet been taken away.

"... Did you do this on purpose?"

Mutely, everyone shook their heads.

Leonidas shook his head, then winced. Obviously he had a hangover. "The one time I think you might show any signs of intelligence. But no, you're just thinking about your triangles. Now, tell me what you've figured out about the new one, if anything at all."

"It's in the Viking area," one of the scholars said. "Where exactly, we don't know, since we're not familiar with the history of the region. If you ask our new Viking friends, perhaps they can tell you."

Leonidas cocked his head, eye narrowed. "Was this one particularly easy? You never got anywhere with the other two."

The scholars all glanced at each other. No one dared tell him that they could think clearer when he wasn't using his lungs on them at full capacity.

"Trade secret, is it?" Leonidas said flatly. "Fine, fine. Keep it to yourselves. And get out, while you're at it."

They quietly excused themselves and hurried away. Soon, the room was empty except for Leonidas.

He got up and stored the riddle away in his pocket. He glanced at the half-empty jug and the unused glass, and his face soured.

"Can't believe I drank half a jug for this fool's charade," he muttered aloud. "At least it worked. Now I know I'm the problem."

Leonidas had never drunk alcohol since he joined the military. It was a rule made to prevent people cutting their own heads off, ever since one particularly famous alcoholic came back to the barracks after a night out, a few decades ago. A rule that, fortunately, the scholars were either unaware of, or thought didn't apply to the Commander.

Leonidas went to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in his bladder.

0=

Hiccup was in his house, slouched in his father's chair. Toothless had lit the fireplace for himself and was curled up in front of it like a massive cat.

"What am I meant to do about this, bud?" Hiccup said softly, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere below his peripheral vision, Toothless gave a low warble.

"Gothi's so worried about what she can't remember, she's not healing anyone," Hiccup said. "It's starting to become a real problem, I'll tell you."

Someone banged on the door.

"Aaaand that'll be Sven," Hiccup sighed, getting up to go see to the shepherd's complaints about Gothi not giving him painkillers. He'd broken his arm when Tuffnut had dropped on him from Barf and Belch while he was shearing the sheep. Tuffnut himself had almost lost an ear for that particular stunt.

"Maybe I should just tell her," Hiccup mused as he made his way to the door. "It'll fix things on Berk, at least, even if Alphas doesn't like it."

"Even if I don't like what?" Alphas asked, standing behind Sven. Hiccup gaped.

"Ho-how are you here? Why are you here?"

"I flew over because I need your help with something," Alphas responded easily. "Omegas went off to play again."

Hiccup frowned. "What, with the kids?"

"They seem to like him."

"Chief," Sven butted in, "I'll make this quick so's you can get back to yer talking. My arm hurts like a giant stepped on it. Couldn't you please ask Gothi to give me something' for it?"

The man was nearly in tears.

Alphas peered at his arm. "Did you break it?"

Sven nodded. "One of these days I'll wring that boy's neck. What's he thinking, jumping from his dragon on me?"

Alphas raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't comment.

"Right. Sven, you just sit inside with Toothless, maybe the warmth will make you feel better. I'll go talk to Gothi."

Sven nodded, and stumbled inside. Hiccup shut the door behind him, and looked at Alphas.

"You want to come with me?"

"Sure. Gothi's that old woman, right?"

"Yeah."

They started walking.

"So," Alphas said, "what wouldn't I like?"

Hiccup sighed. "Ever since you took Gothi's memories, she's been a little… concerned, to say the least, about what she forgot. She doesn't know what she's forgotten, but she's been trying so hard to remember that she's not giving anyone else the time of day."

"So… no healing."

"Sven is very upset, as you can see."

"Very upset," Alphas nodded. "I still don't see what I wouldn't like."

"I was thinking of telling her what she'd forgotten, so things can at least get back to normal around here. Only that she knew magic but you took it away," he added hastily. "I wasn't going to tell her about sigils or sorcerers or where you live or that we're allied to you."

"That's fine," Alphas agreed. "I'll stay down so she doesn't ask you any questions about who I am."

Hiccup nodded. "Probably for the best."

They kept walking.

"I should tell you," Alphas said, "I brought a couple of other people with me."

Hiccup shuddered. "Tell me the Commander isn't here."

"Okay. He isn't here."

Hiccup looked at him. "Please. Be serious. If Mildew finds him someone is going to die."

Alphas held up his hands in a placating gesture. "He's really not here. No need to worry."

He dropped his hands and continued. "On a separate note, I'm never going to understand Viking names. Mildew is possibly the worst name for your child anyone could think of. If my parents had named me Fungus I think I would've jumped into the sea by the time I was six."

"Mildew's pet sheep is called Fungus," Hiccup offered.

Alphas went quiet. They were almost at the wooden staircase which led to Gothi's hut by the time he decided to speak again.

"Yeah, you're all nuts. Good luck talking to the old lady."

Hiccup grinned and began climbing the stairs.

0=

He found Gothi distraught. Her little hut seemed to have been torn apart, sheets of parchment strewn across the wooden platform, bottles and jars and pots of strange and colourful substances piled up in a corner, some leaking or oozing their contents, as Gothi had swept them all off the shelves. Her Terrors now perched there instead, chattering with a kind of nervous energy.

Gothi herself kneeled in a corner, staff beside her, sheets of parchment on the floor in front of her. The moment she heard Hiccup coming, she turned around and shook her staff threateningly at him.

He gently pushed it aside and squatted down in front of her.

"Gothi," he said softly, getting straight to the point. "I know what you're missing."

She started, shocked, her mouth slightly open, then shuffled around on her knees. She leaned in, squinting at him.

When she had satisfied herself that he wasn't lying, she stood, and dragged out a stool. She sat while Hiccup stood, and indicated for him to continue.

She'd forgotten that she'd broken her vow of silence, too. Alphas hadn't discriminated with what he'd taken from her. Everything went.

"When you were younger," Hiccup began, "you went to another island to train as a proper healer and soothsayer. A priestess led your training and the training of everyone else there. You were her star pupil. At some point, she asked you to be her successor in exchange for staying on that island and doing her job, in exchange for everything she knew, but you refused. The other option was to come back to Berk with two of her secrets."

Gothi was listening raptly.

"The first secret was a book written in a language you couldn't recognize. The second secret was something the priestess told you herself, that magic exists, and you could understand it from that book."

Gothi frowned in disappointment, and scratched out a few glyphs on the floor. Hiccup looked down and read them.

"Oh, sure, you can already do magic with hypnosis, and soothsaying, and brewing those healing potions, but this is a different magic," he said. "It's the kind of magic that can take a ship the size of a mountain and turn it to dust. It's the kind of magic that can put you to sleep just by touching you. It's the kind of magic that can look at your mind and tell you everything about the world in a second."

He looked closely at her, making sure to hold eye contact for a good amount of time, so that the importance of his next statement would be fully imprinted on the Village Elder.

"Or it can take what you know, away."

Hiccup stopped then, held silent so that Gothi could focus on the statement and realize what it meant.

And she did.

Gothi stood abruptly, mouth open and quivering as she stared at Hiccup. She snapped to after a moment of shocked paralysis, regaining control of herself and shutting her mouth, and began to draw again on the floor, but her eyes remained wide.

Hiccup read what she'd written, and nodded.

"Yeah, a magical man came one day and took all that knowledge from you. He threw your old staff, which had magic in it, in the fire. He burned the book the priestess gave you. He got rid of everything to do with magic because he said it was dangerous."

The most dangerous thing at that time had been Alphas himself, but Hiccup refrained from mentioning that. He had a perfect explanation for Gothi. Heck, it might even have been a possibility if Alphas hadn't done what he did.

Gothi shook her fist, but Hiccup raised a hand. She looked at him in confusion.

"Turns out," he sighed, "he was right. The people who attacked our island and took us all prisoner were working for someone who's been at war with the magic people for years. If he'd found any use of magic on Berk… well, it wouldn't have gone well. Berk might never have been free."

Gothi seemed to droop as he said this. Hiccup felt a little bad seeing her in such a state, but he willed himself not to say anything more. Instead, he walked over to the pile of containers, and picked one up. He looked at Gothi.

"So, where is this meant to go?"

She flapped her hand at him dismissively, and pointed at her Terrors, who chirped and fluttered into the air, waiting to be told what to do.

She pointed at the pile of containers. They set to work.

Hiccup smiled as he watched them before remembering who had set him to this in the first place, and why. He walked over to Gothi, who was picking some of the parchment off the floor. A Terror snatched the bottle he was holding out of his hand as he went.

"So, Gothi," he said, "Sven's broken his arm, and wants a painkiller. You remember, right? Could you give me something I can take to him?"

Gothi nodded. Turning to the Terrors, she snapped her fingers, and one of them separated itself from the flock to hover before her. She made a gesture in the air, and the Terror trilled before zooming off to scrabble through the pile. A few seconds later, it returned, struggling to hold up the weight of a large jar. Gothi took its burden, and it returned to organizing the containers with the rest of them.

The wizened old woman lifted a fat dollop of thick green paste from the jar on a wooden spoon, and handed it to Hiccup. Hands free, she began to write again.

"It's alright if you don't have something for me to take this in, Gothi," Hiccup assured her after reading. "I'll just give him the spoon. I'm sure it won't fall or anything. And I'll tell him when to come see you."

Gothi smiled kindly at him and patted his shoulder, or what part of it she could reach, and hurried him off downstairs, as Terrors flitted through the little wooden hut, slowly returning it to order.

0=

Hiccup had made it down to his hut without dropping Sven's medicine, and had given it to the shepherd. Alphas had been sitting with him, asking enough questions about sheep that Sven forgot, for little moments in time, about the pain.

Now, Sven was gone, and the chief's hut, dark but lit by the burn of the warm fireplace, was full. Sorcerers and Berkians stood facing each other, their dragons outside, while Alphas introduced the newer members of his party, thoughtfully using Norse so those who hadn't been with the riders on Nisi, and hadn't learned in the span of a second how to speak Greek, could understand the conversation.

"Stratos and Olympiodoros," he said, pointing out each owner of the name as he said it.

Stratos was a large, muscular man draped in furs and leather, unlike the fabric of the military uniforms the others wore. He had very dark brown hair that was streaked gray at the corners of his forehead, and a beard to match, graying just under his lip. He sported a scar that curved from his neck to disappear under his tunic, and an expression so frivolously calm it approached languid. Hiccup got the impression he was only scary when he had to be.

Olympiodoros, on the other hand, was intimidating for a reason Hiccup had never expected to see. His personality appeared cheerful enough and his body was composed of lean power rather than heavily built. The shiny blond hair that fell over his face and ears like a curtain just made him look childish. His outfit was the same military dress that Alphas and Omegas wore, dark brown pants and open coat with a coloured shirt underneath, straps and buckles around the waist and torso. Where Alphas and Omegas' shirts were purple and blue respectively, Olympiodoros wore bright orange. A sword hung in its sheath at his right side, but that wasn't even the intimidating part.

The intimidation, almost as dark and carelessly focused as a spear pointed at the heart, came from the ragged, blood-soaked cape around his shoulders. It had already been red originally, but blood had seeped up the trailing end at some point so that now half of it was richer red, darker in colour.

The combined effect between the violence the cape had seen as opposed to how sunny the rest of Olympiodoros looked was a contrast that hinted at greater dangers than seen on the surface.

And it was primal human instinct to fear a hidden predator.

Omegas noticed when Hiccup glanced warily at the cape, and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"We don't know why he's been wearing that, but he wears it all the time," he informed him quietly. "It's a recent thing. You don't need to worry about him. He's cool."

When Omegas stepped back, everyone else watched him and Hiccup for a second, wondering what had passed between them, before Hiccup dispelled the mood by stepping forwards and introducing all of his friends.

"This is Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Snotlout," he said, indicating them all with a wide sweep of his left hand, as that was where they stood at his side. He then introduced the people on his right.

"And this is Astrid, my mother Valka, Gobber, and Eret."

The statement was accompanied with a sweeping wave of the other hand.

"So," he asked, "what did you want our help for?"

Omegas removed a slip of parchment from what Hiccup had now learned was a pocket. He'd been trying to sew one into his own clothes, but the stitching was a little difficult to accomplish the way he had tried to do it. Hiccup needed another method to manage.

"This," Omegas said, waving the parchment at the Vikings. "We think you're better suited to figuring out the exact location in this riddle."

"A riddle?" Fishlegs exclaimed. "I've always wanted to solve a mysterious riddle!"

Hiccup looked at him with a little confusion. "But you already did, Fishlegs. Remember? The treasure of Hamish the Second?"

"That was mostly you, Hiccup," Fishlegs told him. "I want to try to solve this one myself."

"One tiny problem," Omegas interjected. "It's written in magic. You can't read it."

"Why don't you just translate it for us?" Astrid said. "It should be easy enough."

Alphas shook his head. "We could translate it, but there's the danger that some things could get lost in translation. It might not be clear, or you could get the wrong idea of what the words are saying."

Stratos looked at him. "Then why are we even here? What's the point o' this trip if the meanin' ain't clear? Oh, that rhymed."

"You'll make a poet yet, Stratos," Alphas remarked. "The answer is very simple. We give them the knowledge of reading magic."

"Isn't that not allowed?" Olympiodoros said nervously. "I'm pretty sure that was forbidden under threat of death. I remember reading that somewhere."

Alphas looked uncomfortable. "It's absolutely taboo, yeah. I don't like doing it any more than either of you, but it's not like we can properly translate it to Norse. Still, we can trust these guys, and besides, the alternative is Myre getting to the end of this quest before we do. If he wants it so badly, I get the feeling we shouldn't let these kind of rules get in the way of stopping him.

"Hey, magic guys?" Tuffnut said with a bored expression.

Everyone looked at him.

"What?" Alphas asked.

Ruffnut pointed at the riddle, her face matching her twin's. "Your words are moving."

Everyone's eyes were drawn to the riddle, and the symbols were certainly moving, shifting, changing shape and form, breaking apart and joining again in new configurations until-

"Norse," Alphas said, a bewildered expression on his face. He turned it upside down, shook it, flapped it a couple of times, but the riddle remained defiantly in Norse.

"How the hell did it know what to do?" Alphas asked the world at large, a shell shocked expression on his face. His mouth hung slightly open as he regarded the riddle with an unparalleled befuddlement, leaving him looking slightly like a fish.

"Maybe it read your mind?" Hiccup suggested uncertainly. "It could be alive, like you told me about a wizard's wand or staff."

Stratos frowned at him. "What would you know, boy? We're the magids here. Leave these sorta de-vel-op-ments to us."

Omegas gave Stratos a look, while Hiccup looked put down. Alphas continued to scrutinize the parchment, barely aware of what anyone was saying.

"There's got to be a trigger," he muttered. "What is it?"

At the mention of a trigger, Hiccup's mind jumped back to the Alphas' statement about the legality of imparting the ability to read magic on distinctly non magical people. One word in particular was at the center of his thoughts.

It was just a hunch, but Hiccup knew somehow, deep down, that he was right.

"Greek," he said aloud in Greek.

Instantly, the words began to shift again, contorting and splitting up, realigning themselves until the page read perfect Greek.

Alphas looked at Hiccup so fast that Hiccup almost felt the winds blow with the movement.

"How did you know to do that?" he demanded. All the shock was gone, replaced by a very pressing expression, his urge to know so strong that Hiccup could feel it slithering through the air at him, grabbing him and wrapping around his neck like a python, constricting his throat, forcing him to vomit the words.

"I just had a feeling," Hiccup said slowly, the words escaping in a trickle. For once, Alphas looked as he had back when they'd taken him prisoner - like a hunted lion, the predator enraged at being cornered so.

Looking back, Hiccup couldn't believe they'd managed to do that. Capturing Alphas now seemed as impossible as chaining down a thunderstorm.

But it was curious why Alphas would ever look like that. They were friends now, weren't they? Hiccup could see nothing that would make Alphas look like that.

Caught unawares, certainly. That was reasonable. But, even if Hiccup didn't quite believe it, he knew it was there.

The feeling of being threatened.

It was what Alphas had felt, just now. It had shown, just for a moment, on his face, before the prince wiped it away.

Why?

"A feelin', you say," Stratos said, considering the words. "Alright. I get that kind o' hunch."

He shrugged. "Wouldn' be the first surprisin' thing to happen."

"Alright," Alphas said, composed now. "So the riddles respond to hearing the names of languages spoken. That's something useful."

He nodded at Hiccup, a smile breaking out across his face. "All thanks to you."

Hiccup smiled back, but he was unable to shake the feeling that something was going on with Alphas. He seemed to be struggling a little.

"Well!" Omegas said cheerfully, clapping his hands and making everyone jump at the noise. "The problem's solved now, isn't it? Give the riddle to Fishlegs, and we can start hunting down the next piece of the puzzle."

"Ah. Yes."

Alphas looked at the parchment he held, at the Greek words, and he frowned.

"Wait," he held up a finger. "We should read the Greek version first. Maybe we can combine the clues from both languages."

"Good idea," Hiccup agreed. "That gives us more to work with."

Olympiodoros tilted his head at this, as if puzzled, but Hiccup paid him no attention, listening as Alphas began to read.

"The son of magic is thunder, the lightning now strikes in the depths,

In caverns down under, where monsters have slept,

Now awake, now alive, feeding on opposite forces,

Deep thought, deep dive, come to power their sources,

Become flesh, become friend, deceptions most dire,

Awaken old, power contend, blade of scale and fire,

Below ground, beyond mind, friend of friend of magic,

Soul reborn, vessel find, road to endings tragic."

Fishlegs was translating quietly for the other Hooligans as Alphas read on. When he finished and looked up, the hut was quiet as they processed the words.

"The son of magic is thunder probably refers to Thor," Fishlegs speculated aloud after a while. "Which means it definitely has something to do with us Vikings."

"I don't know about the rest of it, but 'friend of magic' must be referring to us," Hiccup said. He looked at Alphas.

"Unless there's any other tribes you've got hidden away in the curtains of politics that you'd like to reveal now?" he added sarcastically. Alphas shook his head, amused.

"Not at all," he responded lightly. "It's definitely about you. Now, what friends of yours can you think of?"

That gave them pause.

"It must be about another tribe," Valka spoke up. "The Meatheads, perhaps, or the Bog-Burglars."

"Bashem-Oiks?" Fishlegs added. "The Lava-Louts are another possibility. Although, I have to say, not very likely."

"As long as it's not the Meatheads, I'm fine with that," Snotlout said, leaning back in his chair, arms folded behind his head.

Alphas tilted his head curiously. "Is there something about the Meatheads?"

Hiccup grinned. "The chief's son, Thuggory. Snotlout's the most… well, 'Viking' Viking ever, until you put him in front of Thuggory."

Olympiodoros smiled, a delighted thing that displayed perfect white teeth. "I can't imagine anyone who looks more like they got the lion's share of brawn, and only a tiny helping of brain."

While everyone else snickered at the jibe, Snotlout and Stratos both looked confused, and Omegas was straight-faced.

"I don't get it," Snotlout confessed, while light eventually dawned on Stratos. This statement made everyone's smiles slightly more difficult to put down, while Stratos just grinned to himself.

Omegas, for some reason, looked thoughtful, staring at the floor with his fingers curled under his lip, holding his chin.

"Never mind the joke," Alphas said, the ghost of a smile still remaining on his face.

"Anyway, uh, Olympiodoros," Hiccup said, after a moment's hesitation to remember how to pronounce the name, "Thuggory has more brawn, but just enough brain to balance it out. As Vikings go, he's pretty level-headed. Not all that violent."

Olympiodoros nodded, as though turning the information over in his head, although his eyes remained focused on Hiccup, and didn't turn upwards to examine the thought. "I see."

The action made Hiccup feel uncomfortable, for some reason.

"Alright," Alphas said in Norse, holding the riddle out to Hiccup. "Your turn. Norse."

As he said the word, the letters shifted to become the language familiar to the Berkians, and when Hiccup looked at the sheet, he read it in a flash, and the meaning became clear to him.

Poor Snotlout.

He handed the parchment to Fishlegs. "You wanted to solve it."

Fishlegs accepted it with a look of gratitude, and began to read.

"Two parts of one whole, other pieces scattered,

A people's land, territory shattered,

Cut to pieces by the slice of death,

Fall from forever with a final breath,

Heads of flesh and minds of fight,

Prejudice burn, friends of flight,

Enter through the harbour dark,

Follow the monster of crystal spark."

After Fishlegs finished, once again, the room was silent as they absorbed the new information.

"Sorry Snotlout," Fishlegs said at last, a little apologetically. "It's the Meatheads."

Snotlout groaned. "Great. Can I just not meet Thuggory? I'll stay on Hookfang and meet you all at wherever we're meant to be, after you're all done shaking hands."

"That's pretty uncourteous, Snotlout," Hiccup said, smiling as he threw an arm across the back of his chair. "It wouldn't be good manners to skip out on a diplomatic meeting."

He leant closer, whispering so quietly into Snotlout's ear that even he had difficulty hearing.

"Besides, I don't think Ruffnut likes a rude man."

He leaned back and watched Snotlout wrestle with himself for a long moment.

"Fine!" he burst out. Snotlout crossed his arms mutinously. "But if he calls me that stupid name one more time, I'm challenging him to a brawl."

"Excuse me," Alphas interrupted. "Not that this isn't fascinating, but how do you know it's the Meatheads?"

Fishlegs cleared his throat. Immediately, all eyes were on him.

"Firstly," Fishlegs said importantly, for once not succumbing to social anxiety, "a tribe that's friend to Berk, with land that's 'shattered', or in separate pieces. That could be the Meatheads or the Bog-Burglars. Those are the only two that fit the description. Second, the Slice of Death. That's the name for the waters which separate the North and South Meathead Islands. But that's a little ambiguous because of the phrasing, so it comes down to the third clue, 'heads of flesh and minds of fight, prejudice burn, friends of flight'. The latter part refers to a tribe that accepted the dragons as friends. That leaves it ambiguous between the Meatheads and the Bog-Burglars. But 'heads of flesh' definitely means Meatheads, in conjunction with the 'Slice of Death' clue, so it has to be the Meatheads."

"I see," Alphas said, after a few seconds of absorbing Fishlegs' long-winded explanation. "Alright, so we know which island to visit. That's nice. It narrows it down."

He leaned forward.

"But where are we going to find the riddle? Can anyone tell me that?"

Fishlegs raised his hand, smiling with delight. "Actually, we know that too!"

Alphas blinked, leaning back to his normal stance. "We do?"

"Yes!" Fishlegs said excitedly. "The part about the Slice of Death also tells us that the riddle is on one of the two main islands. We know which one from the phrase, 'fall from forever'. That refers to the Cliff of Forever, which is on the North Island. So the next riddle is on the North Island! Where specifically is in the second to last line, 'the harbour dark'. That clearly refers to the Dark Harbour of the North Island."

Suddenly, he looked a little crestfallen.

"I don't know what it means about the monster of crystal spark, though," he mumbled. "That seems like something you guys would be able to figure out better."

After the clear and concise explanation of their destination from none other than Fishlegs, who usually tended not to perform well under pressure, every Berkian was silent. Every sorcerer was silent too, although Hiccup, in the back of his mind, suspected a different reason. This thought was subconscious, but it took root there, anchoring itself there, and it would spread its shoots until it poked the fragile barrier between conscious and subconscious.

The moment it broke through would define a huge part of Hiccup's existence from then on. That dreamlike notion, that invisible breeze of suspicion, of seeing something not-quite-right, would take over him the moment it invaded his mind as a barely substantial thought.

But for now, it was a seed, a tiny, innocent thing, not unknown, but unacknowledged.

And it germinated.

Omegas smiled brightly, breaking the oppressive web that bound them into deathly quiet, with only the flicker and crackle of flames in the hearth to mark the passing moments.

"Well then," he said, still smiling, a laughing twinkle in the eyes. "We'll go to the Meathead Islands tomorrow. Some of you will, of course, need to come along, because we'd be so hopelessly lost without you. Any volunteers?"

Hiccup raised his hand immediately. Astrid's followed near-instantly.

Gobber raised his hook, finally seeing an opportunity to participate in this gathering. Deductions were not his strong suit. He knew better than to give his input when the two lads were here, one skinny and one, as he preferred to refer to himself, 'husky'. They were better adapted to this than he.

Stratos eyed the hook with something like appraisal in his eyes, although this momentary fixation went unnoticed by everyone except Gobber.

Gobber wasn't quite sure how to react to that look. It was a look of someone impressed, but with just the subtlest connotations (not that Gobber was aware of those two words. He'd have called it an 'itsy bit of hammers in the eyes') to not be raw respect.

There was something else mixed in there. Gobber wasn't sure what to call it yet.

He decided to act as though he hadn't noticed.

Fishlegs raised his hand after a bit. A little timidly, perhaps, but there was a kind of gleam in his eye that was only there when he found something to fixate on.

Snotlout, who would not have volunteered to go to the Meathead Islands if his life was at stake, immediately raised his hand when it was his love instead of his life. He could not let Fishlegs outdo him here. Ruffnut deserved only the most awesome, brave (which other people called suicidal stupidity for some reason, Snotlout couldn't figure out why), muscle-bound Viking there was.

Assuming Eret, with the much more visible muscles, was in a boat being dragged off the waterfall at the end of the world, and not here in this room, with him, in front of his darling Ruffnut.

Omegas, seeing the show of hands, looked genuinely pleased. Hiccup felt safer with that expression. Omegas was legitimately glad for their presence.

Of course, Alphas was too. Hiccup was sure of it.

"Alright, then, boys and girls," Omegas winked. "Pack your bags, ready your dragons, and air out your riding gear. Tomorrow, we go to Meathead Island."

0=

The next morning, while Hiccup was preparing his saddlebags, Alphas found him alone.

"Chief Hiccup Horrendous Haddock."

"Gah!"

Hiccup spun around at Alphas' sudden approach, heart hammering, while the man stood there, hands behind his back and smiling slightly.

"Omegas tells me two other people have had the same name."

"You're too quiet, you know," Hiccup told him, trying to get his breathing under control. "We need to put a bell on you."

Alphas laughed, a genuine laugh that made Hiccup smile as well, so far removed from his behaviour yesterday, that cloudy afternoon in the chief's hut.

"That," Alphas said, laughter dying down, "was genuinely funny."

Hiccup frowned theatrically. "Is anything else I say not funny?"

"In all honesty? I prefer that sudden kind of humour, slightly strange statements out of nowhere. Well-thought out jokes don't land that often, unless the delivery has something remarkably hilarious to it."

"I would have expected Omegas to be more into nonsensical humour," Hiccup mused.

Alphas shrugged. "He is. Unlike me, however, he is too far gone. Only the most absurd statement is enough for him. I'm perfectly content with just these bells you plan to adorn me with."

Hiccup almost laughed out loud at that one. "You said that so strangely."

Alphas smiled. "I did, didn't I?"

For a moment, they were both silent, until Alphas cleared his throat.

"So, I went to Rome recently."

"Oh, that's nice," Hiccup said politely, not knowing how to tell Alphas that he'd dive-bombed several Roman ships in the past. "I've never been to the city, although I've had some… interactions with the Romans. How is it?"

Alphas shrugged. "Large. Colourful. Giant wolves."

That last one took Hiccup aback. "I'm sorry?"

Alphas waved it away, although Hiccup saw the glimmer of a smug smile.

"Not important," he said airily. "Anyway, while I was there, I saw an armoury and decided to get you a little souvenir."

Finally, he revealed his hands from behind his back, and Hiccup saw a large rectangular shield, decorated with the Roman Eagle that he'd seen from time to time painted on the sails, on the decks, and certainly on the shields of some of the soldiers of the Roman ships he'd blasted out of Barbaric waters.

"Alphas," Hiccup said slowly, "did you steal a shield from Rome?"

"Now that you mention it, yes," Alphas said straight-facedly. "Any more questions?"

Hiccup inhaled, and let out a long exhale. "I don't say this often, but… dude. Couldn't you just have bought it?"

Alphas looked down at the shield. "I tried, but they didn't seem willing to accept my offer. I think this was a very important one for them."

"It didn't have to be that specific one!" Hiccup protested. "I would've been over the moon with any shield from Rome!"

"Isn't this nicer, though?" Alphas grinned. "It's the Ceremonial Shield of the Legion. It is very important to the Romans."

Hiccup paced in circles for a few seconds, while Alphas watched him. Eventually, he stopped and faced the man innocently holding the Very-Important-Roman-Shield.

"Dare I even ask why you thought of me when you saw an armoury?"

"Truth be told," Alphas sighed, "Omegas is infatuated with your fire sword. And every time he talks about it, which is a lot, by the way, he complains about how our armouries don't have fire swords for every soldier."

Hiccup snorted. He could imagine that of Omegas.

"So now, every time I see an armoury, I think of your fire sword, and by proxy, you. So I said what the hell and got you a souvenir."

He held up the shield. "Do you want it? I can always give it back if you don't."

Hiccup wasted no time thinking about it. "Give me that."

Alphas grinned as he handed it over. The moment Hiccup's fingers touched the smooth metal handle, it seemed to hum momentarily under his grasp. Hiccup wondered if he'd imagined it.

He looked up at Alphas and smiled with delight. "Thanks!"