CHAPTER 48: Disgusted
Ancient Island resembled Berk after a night of dragon raids. Many huts were scorched to the ground, crumbled to nothing, the forests were no longer green but were pure brown and empty. The fires lit to the forests last night turned half of it into a wasteland appearance like an apocalyptic desert. A lot of the birds had lost their nests, the chirping singing of the birds had decreased drastically as their woodland burnt to a crisp last night.
That was primarily where the name 'night of the burning huts' came from, because the main feature of the night was blazing huts on fire, burning with fierce orange flames. Not all of the island was scorched and damaged from last night's systematic wave of violence against the 'unvikings', but a good chunk of it was.
On top of that, many of the vikings who were unharmed from the violence overnight simply went about their daily lives, walking past the various huts burnt to the ground resembling crumbles of charcoal in their colour and appearance, and they were carrying on as if the damaged terrain was invisible to them. Whether they were terrified to call out the systematic, council-orchestrated violence or not, it was remarkable how much they were ignoring the environment around them.
All in all, the council had detained hundreds and hundreds of its own vikings - these vikings hadn't done anything wrong, and were innocent. But the council's definition of unviking meant that they could target whoever they wanted without any limits. In this case, vikings who had physical disabilities or any form of disability classed, in the council's view, someone as an unviking.
The hundreds of vikings arrested had been swiftly detained after facing the violence of last night, and many of them were swiftly taken to the numerous political camps hidden within the forests of Ancient Island where they were to face cruel punishments, some even execution.
There was widespread horror, secretly among a good number of vikings within the tribe. They knew their Chieftan had constantly banged on about unvikings, and the need to crush the Warlord bug for good, and they wholeheartedly backed him all the way with that. But last night, it went beyond that. It was a coordinated, merciless attack on its own vikings who did nothing wrong, who were simply going about their daily lives, they hadn't committed any crimes or wrongdoings themselves, but they were nonetheless attacked and some were even killed during the 'night of the burning huts'.
The horror was aimed at how efficiently coordinated the violence was. Although many Ancient vikings carried on with their daily lives and intended to continue supporting Yurlin as their Chieftan to whom they felt he was putting things in order on the archipelago, an equal amount felt like they'd seen enough, even among those who initially supported Yurlin when he became Chieftan five years ago.
They saw the gradual buildup of the cult of personality, the decree forced upon them forbidding them marriage with the 'unvikings', the gradual stoking of tensions on the archipelago, and last night was the final straw - a systematic, completely unprovoked attack on innocent vikings, all of them family members of other Ancients on the island.
They no longer felt safe living under Yurlin. They'd tolerated the cult of personality, the lifestyle, the archaic political system for the last five years since he came to power, but last night was clear to them on one thing - they needed to escape Ancient Island. A tribe in which the council effectively attacks its own vikings in an efficient manner was no tribe at all, but a cruel regime.
And all of it was done under the guise of the assassination of Krimm Hiss at the hands of the unvikings, when in reality, it'd been conducted by an Ancient soldier simply disillusioned with the Yurlin regime and wanted to send a message for the sake of his fellow vikings and his sons who were missing within the council's merciless political system. An Ancient soldier in Krugg Kalvicious who remembered life in this tribe well before Yurlin came to power.
One such family, inside their huts totally afraid to leave and go outside given the sight outside their home, had horrific fears because of the sights of damage and debris. A mother and her daughter, situated in a hut on Ancient Island right within the central village where the violence kicked off last night. Their husband was over on Old Berk, as the Ancients continued occupying the island as a militarized zone. The husband, against his will as he didn't want to be conscripted at all, had been positioned there ever since the day the Ancients boldly sent their troops onto the island, their first act of overseas aggression.
The mother was planning to take her daughter and defect from the island. They wanted to emigrate from the island and find refuge with another tribe, ANY tribe, because at this point, she feared for her daughter's own life. After last night, she was under no illusion that Alfa Yurlin's rule meant freedoms were a mere fantasy, and she feared that the most for her daughter's future. She didn't want her daughter to live under a lifestyle of suppression and sexism, and under a Chieftan who was more than happy to target his own innocent vikings for his crazy, mentally deranged ideology like he did last night.
"Grab your helmet, Hale," said the mother, as the sun gradually rose on Ancient Island, "I don't know how we're going to do it, but we're gonna swim away from here."
The mother and daughter Ancient vikings scrambled for their gear, their helmets, and the mother briefly went outside to the fenced off portion of land just at the back of their hut where the crops were being grown. She stepped out into the back and did her best to not look all rushy and panicked, so she wouldn't draw the attention of the roaming vikings nearby as they crazily ignored all of the damage and debris from last night.
There were even lifeless bodies scattered across some parts of the island, many of them older, middle aged vikings who'd been at the front of the target list from the night of the burning huts. And a good portion of normal vikings within the tribe ignored those too, and carried on with their lives. It was unthinkable how quickly the tribe seemed to become desensitized to things like that, with having a dictatorial archaic leadership ruling over them.
The mother was quickly picking the carrots, potatoes and cabbages from her crops as she rushed back inside. She couldn't help but move quickly, because the thought of her daughter being subject to things like what happened last night across the island was a scary feeling.
"Is dad coming with us?" Hale asked her mum, the 9 year old viking worried.
"Remember what he said to us before they drafted him off? do whatever we had to do to stay safe. We'll meet up with him one day, darling. But for now, we just have to get out of here. This is not how modern vikings should be living. You heard of Hiccup Haddock and the Hooligans?"
Hale, the young Ancient viking daughter, nodded her head. Within the council's various programs designed to teach children and bring them into the doctrine of the Yurlin council for the future of the tribe, they all covered the issue of Hiccup and the Hooligans, and these programs spoke of Hiccup and his tribe in a positive way, because Yurlin had always sought an alliance with Hiccup to fight the resurgent Warlords and Drago.
"I have...he's the guy with the one leg, isn't he?" she innocently asked her mum.
"We need to somehow swim off here and get to their island. I'm so sorry hunny for putting you through this," she lowered herself to her daughter's height, "but...we're living under a cruel, criminal leader. Whatever they've taught you hunny, don't believe any of it - you're a strong viking, you're more than just being inside a hut, and no viking in this day and age has to suffer a Chieftan who's actively demonizing his own vikings for some sort of ideology. I'm so sorry."
Hale nodded. As a young viking girl within the Ancients, the Yurlin regime saw younger female vikings as the foundation of the tribe, in terms of staying in the huts all day, bringing up families when they were older, having as many kids as possible and also providing food for the warriors of the tribe. She'd have been fed a lot of the brainwashing doctrine from the Yurlin council's programs.
But she seemed herself to understand the con that they were. And so she was more than happy to tag along with her mother, to swim through the merciless cold seas - the quicker they swam, the further it took them from Ancient Island, which would make them feel a lot more secure and safer, even with being in the cold seas.
"Alright, let's go. Alfa Yurlin is a criminal, hunny, he's a bad man. That soldier who assassinated Krimm Hiss did the right thing, but we need to get ourselves to Hiccup's tribe so the final nail can be put in this tribe's lawless coffin. Drago Bludvist isn't even as horrifying as these people, hunny!"
Hale gasped at her mother's words.
"But mum...aren't they unvikings...Dago Bludthingie?" she asked, recalling hearing about the unvikings - the council also made it mandatory for the doctrine programs to mention Drago Bludvist as a prime example of an unviking.
"Hunny, again, they're lying to you. Drago Bludvist wouldn't even be as bad as Alfa Yurlin, it's either of those two who'll liberate this tribe from Yurlin's grasp. I want you to be safe and want you to get out of this hole we're in. There is no such thing as an unviking, okay hunny?"
She patted her daughter on the shoulder, carrying a big sack on her side as they both opened the door and stepped outside onto the grass and the gravel path that crossed through the central village.
Right away, from the corner of their eyes, tens of huts were black, scorched like dragon fire had been heaved at them, and the wood had a foul stench of burning which crossed the environment like a bonfire. Hundreds of male Ancients seemed to be surrounding the collapsed and burnt huts as they looked like they were collecting all of the broken pieces.
"Go this way," said the mother, gently nudging her daughter to go in the opposite direction.
What was even more scary for the mother was the fact that some of her own family members across the tribe actively took part in the actions last night. They were fully in support of Yurlin and would do ANYTHING to ensure their lives were proper viking lifestyles, and they too just wanted a Chieftan who'd cause fear into the heart of the overall archipelago. The mother didn't even consider those family members anymore because of them willingly being able to attack innocent fellow vikings, like they did last night.
They were a lost cause, full on Yurlin supporters and considered him to be a god who'd save the archipelago from any prospect of it falling into the same ordeals the Hooligans faced against Drago and Grimmel respectively when the dragons were still in the world.
As the two of them walked along the gravel path, a buffed up viking walked up to them and gently stopped them in their path.
"Hello, I'm here to bring you two a message from the council themselves. As you know, last night our vikings had a demonstration against the hidden unvikings on our island, and because the unvikings are solely to blame, as the council didn't want to interfere in our island's standing up against them, we're offering to rehome you guys to a new hut, these burnt huts around the village are solely to be blamed on the unvikings."
The mother gulped.
"We're just going for a walk. Our Yurlin!" she said, finding that the hardest thing to authentically say due to the disdain and disgust she had for Yurlin.
"You've got some gall to use our greeting, madam. What was that you were saying about Drago Bludvist being better than our leader?" he interrogated, crossing his arms as his beard dangled over his arms.
The mother gulped. Her heart felt like it'd just exploded from the sheer aching that was rife in her chest. She was flustered and couldn't utter a single word from the internal panic.
"You see, ever since the unvikings last night brought all of that mayhem upon themselves, the council has took it upon itself to rehome its vikings, and the unvikings in question are being detained and they're to be forced to rebuild all of the damage their presence and secrecy had caused. Nothing a bit of good hearing against your outside door could miss to hear your words just now."
The big buffed up Ancient viking whose width matched that of Stoick the Vast, walked up to the mother and daughter and promptly grabbed the mother by her shoulders.
"Come with me, I think I may have found another hidden one, in plain sight this time."
The mother instantly started struggling from his grip, as she panicked at what was coming. She herself was being detained only for saying that Drago was better than Yurlin, and that was heard from this big viking by leaning against her door on the outside just now. A few more vikings arrived at the hut and grabbed her to escort her away as she waved her arms about in the air in the struggle.
"The child needs re-educating," said the big buffed up viking, speaking louder over the yells and screams of the mother.
"Please don't HURT MY DAUGHTER! LET ME GO!" she yelled, her voice sounding like a blood curling scream as she got dragged away by a small group of council-associated vikings.
"How could this have happened in today's era?" Hiccup pondered, waking up to the news of events that took place last night over on Ancient Island.
Hiccup and hundreds of Hooligans had gathered near a big waterfall which was beautifully streaming down a mossy mountain surrounded by heaps of majestic looking tall trees. They'd come here to try and use the beautiful environment to crush the horrified cruel thoughts they couldn't comprehend after hearing what happened last night, the so-called night of the burning huts on Ancient Island.
News of Hiss' assassination had also gotten to the Hooligans and Hiccup himself.
Valka and Astrid were both stood next to him as he looked at the waterfall as its clear water shot down from the cliff edge looking terrain into the steady stream of water. Eret and the rest were among the crowd to which Hiccup's back was faced. Zephyr and Nuffink were both directly besides Hiccup.
"There's no other way for me to say it, I just...I completely and utterly condemn it to my core. I never thought we'd see anything or hear anything like this, not in this era. So what, did they just order those attacks last night?" Hiccup asked a scouting Hooligan next to him.
"From what we could gather from the rumours, yeah. It seems like they've tried to make it look like a wave of violence that broke out by itself. But it was entirely systematic...in other words, their council had directly encouraged it and sponsored it."
"Which goes to the heart of how vile and cruel this was," Astrid said, joining the group in front of the waterfall, "we're now ten years from when the dragons left us for The Hidden World. Five years ago, Drago was discovered to have still been alive, and then around that same point that was when Yurlin came to power and become Chieftan of the Ancients...another five years, we're here now, after the full ten years since the dragons left, and something as cruel and barbaric as that...I can't wrap my head around it."
"I myself would scarcely believe that...in this era of vikings, such things could still happen," Valka said, "that's the sort of stuff that would've happened thousands and thousands of years ago, it's like they're going back in time to an era of barbarism not seen, not even seen during our war with the dragons."
Eret was stood within the crowd, crossing his arms. He'd heard about the night of the burning huts on Ancient Island, and he felt bit by bit he was starting to be proved right when he said Yurlin was a monster who had bigger ambitions beyond just destroying Drago Bludvist. From Eret's point of view, the attack Yurlin's council systematically sponsored against its own vikings was so calculated and efficiently done that it'd actually made the Warlords and Drago look like saints.
"They've taken over Dragon Island now too, but that was where Krimm Hiss...his name I think it was? was assassinated."
"SERVES HIM BLOODY RIGHT!" yelled one of the Hooligans from the crowd in the dense forest behind Hiccup.
"THE WHOLE LOT OF EM NEEDS ASSASSINATING FOR WHAT THEY DID TO BERK, THEY'RE STILL ON THERE TOO!" another Hooligan yelled.
Hiccup looked down to Zephyr and Nuffink. Knowing what all those poor kids on Ancient Island had to endure last night, just the thought, made his heart break. And the thought of Zephyr and Nuffink being on the island on that night, hypothetically if they were, seeing that coordinated wave of violence be conducted in the face of what the Ancient council called an 'unviking conspiracy' following the assassination of Krimm Hiss, it made him struggle to prevent his emotions breaking out.
He loved his kids dearly, he absolutely adored them. And Astrid was right - ten years had passed since the dragons left. Five years ago, it was discovered Drago Bludvist was alive, and around that point, Yurlin had come to power in the Ancient Tribe, mainly because the Ancients feared Drago and chose Yurlin because he was the proclaimed antithesis that could protect them from the Warlords. And fast forward to now, another five years later, his tribe had conducted an unthinkable act of violence that no other tribe on the archipelago thought could've happened anymore in today's age of the post-dragon world.
Was it starting to become clear now to Hiccup that Yurlin wasn't just interested in crushing the Warlords? he did promise that after Dragon Island he had no more territorial demands to make, but was he truthful about that? the barbarism Yurlin's council showed to the whole archipelago last night made Hiccup sow doubts.
And as much as he condemned the gross violence last night, war or anything like that was still something he had no intention of raging, again because of Zephyr and Nuffink. And he didn't want to have to fight a conflict in the post-dragon era either, it was far too dangerous.