“Any last words, Hiccup?” Dagur snarled, his facial expression contorted into a feral grimace. He was so sure of his triumph, he could taste the vaporized Hiccup ash in the air already.

     Hiccup coolly looked back at him, staring down his nose. “I got nothing.” He stated without fear, without respect. He was mocking him. Dagur hated that brat! He took one step closer, his boot in the water. His feet were starting to get wet, but he didn’t care. Hiccup continued, “How ‘bout you, bud?”

     The Night Fury—the unholy offspring of lightning and death? Hah! He had the real offspring of lightning and death tethered in his hands!—just growled back, firing a bolt of shining blue-white plasma at his Skrill. The beautiful, spiky beast of the Berserkers folded its wings in briefly, dissipating the shot.

     For a second, Dagur was sure, utterly certain, that he’d won. The Skrill was too powerful for the dainty little Hiccup and his demon dragon.

 

     But something happened. A deafeningly loud crack of thunder, a flash of light, and his body erupted into utter, sheer PAIN. He screamed, bellowing, “AARRGGGHHH!!” As what felt like fire blasted through his muscles in his hands, to his body. He felt so much incredible, excruciating pain he wanted to die. He spasmed , then collapsed. He could barely feel his body toppling off of the small cliff, hitting the rock below. His nerve endings were busy telling him that he was on fire. He wobblingly tried to stand up, panting, but his shoulders and elbows siezed as another charge rocked his nervous system like a ship hit by a cannonball. He collapsed, and the world was no more.

     “I don’t think he’s going to be leading an invasion any time soon.” Hiccup mused. A lightning bolt struck near Hiccup and Toothless. “Wish I could say the same for this guy!” Another bolt struck nearby. It was a miracle it didn’t strike the metal instruments on Toothless and his rider.

     They bolted across the sky, the liberated Skrill following close behind. Dagur’s beautiful beast of destruction was flying away from him. And he didn’t know. He was very nearly dead. He had taken the full blast of a Skrill’s lightning, and his burnt, broken body lay at the bottom of the small ravine.

 

     Eventually, the Berserkers found him. His breathing was shallow, labored, but their leader had survived. They took him back onto the ships, and Savage passed the word around. Dagur had been defeated, the treaty with the Outcasts was finished, and they were ordered to retreat back to Berserker Island. A small party was sent out to search for the Skrill, and the Dragon Riders. Little did they know, by the time the Berserkers had sent out the ships, the Skrill had been reincarcerated in another iceberg thanks to Hiccup and the Twins.

     Savage appointed a watch, to attempt to resuscitate Dagur if he slipped away. A young-ish girl. He dragged her into the captain’s cabin by her arm. “Alright, girl, if our noble leader passes into Valhalla, I’m holding you responsible.”

     She jerked free of Savage’s arm. Thor, this man had been a Berserker for less than three hours, and already he was acting like he was in charge. “To be honest, some of us would be glad if he did kick the bucket. But yeah, I’ll watch him sir.” She ducked inside. Dagur was on the bed, his helmet and armor off. Without his helmet, he looked pretty plain. Ugly, even. He breathed in slow, shallow breaths. She lightly pressed her first two fingers under his jaw. His pulse was thready, but steady. Unfortunately, it seemed like he would survive the blast. Well, our people always did play for keeps.

     She sat in that chair for a few hours as the ship rocked back and forth. While we’re here, we’ll describe this particular Berserker girl.

 

     Her name is Mahelsonei (Mel-so-nay) Sonjen (Sahn-jin) and she was a born-and-raised, dragon-killing Berserker. She generally worked on the ships in the galleys, but all members of the Berserkers lived as soldiers under Dagur’s rule. She had long, hip-length hair that she kept plaited in a 4-strand braid behind her back. She was always very proud of her beautiful brown hair. Her gray eyes were often elsewhere, thinking of different places, times. Some imagined, some being relived. But in a battle, she had excellent, razor sharp skills with her glaive. She loved painting, writing, sewing, and studying the healing arts. Besides whacking dragon skulls apart with her strange cross between a sword and a spear.

     And it was because she was good at wrapping bandages and making poultices that she was drafted to be Dagur’s nurse. “Yay for being too smart,” she muttered to herself.

     Dagur stirred, awakened by the sound of her voice. The shift caused the blankets to rustle and move away, revealing his arms. They’d been seared with lightning-like shapes all over his hands and wrists, all the way up to his shoulders. Marks, left over from the Skrill’s lightning strike. She stared for a moment, willing him to stay asleep.

      Dagur rolled his head to the side, mumbling a single breathed-out word.

      “Hiccup...”

2: It's a Rocky World Out There

     Dagur stayed asleep all the way back to Berserker island. She had again been drafted to help transfer him to a litter, and carried up the cliff into the caves.

     Berserker Island was generally a pretty rocky place to live, literally and metaphorically. It was actually two islands, joined together by a sandbar. It was almost all cliffs and rocks, with a few intermittent flat areas that they used to cultivate their deparately needed food. Wooden bridges built into the cliffs made it easier to get from place to place. But, considering how steep the island walls were, you had to be very good at rock climbing. As for the actual population, Dagur had exaggerated. A lot. There weren’t really 50,000 Berserkers. There were only about 6,000. Much fewer, but still enough to technically count as an Armada.

     Dagur’s home was at the top of one of these cliffs. It took two men, plus Mahelsonei to carry him up without disturbing him.

     They finally got to the top of the cliff, the entrance to the Chief’s home. They had moved the litter to his bed, and they finally got to sit down. The man who had helped carry in front wiped the sweat on his brow, taking off his helmet to ruffle his dusty blond hair a little so it would dry faster. “Thanks for your help, Sunny. We really appreciate it.” Sunny was the name that her friends, like her Uncle Bjorn, called her. It was short for ‘Mahelsonei’, but she suspected it was because they thought she was too upbeat, even if she had a contrary nature.

     “No problem, Uncle Bjorn. Glad I could get some help.” She nodded her gratitude.

     “Yeah,” A tall-ish Vikingwith a long beard--answering to Spitwad Odinson-- agreed wholeheartedly. “We were glad to get away from Savage and his loud-mouth-yness.”

     They didn’t really like Dagur’s new lackey. But they couldn’t complain, or else Dagur would do something awful and drastic. Besides, the new guy was practically Nanna (Norse goddess of peace and joy) compared to Dagur. She looked back at the Chief, nearly irrecognisable without his distinctive helmet. But, the tattooed warpaint on his face still made him stand out. His room was covered in drawings of dragons, specifically the Berkian dragons that Hiccup and his stupid little team rode. One of the most prominent was a drawing of the Night Fury across the room. It was clear how much he obsessed over the Berkian dragon riders.

     She was still assigned to take care of him until he woke up. If she left her post, Mahelsonei was sure that Dagur would find out, and punish her severely. Once, a friend of hers fell asleep on watch. He punished him by removing his eyeballs from his eye sockets, and forcing him to eat them with his own sword.

     Dagur finally started coming around late in the evening, when the new guy, Savage, came to check up on him.

     “So, where’s the Chief, girl?”

     “He’s still resting, he’s not well enough to be up and around on his feet yet, but—“ Savage shoved past her. She was really steamed.

     “I will be the first person the Chief sees when he wakes up, and I know he’ll be very thankful for my loyalty.”

     She wanted so much to yell at him.

     “So much more loyal than you, the one who suggested we make no attempt to save his life.” Savage smirked.

     Okay, she snapped. And she snapped very loudly. “Loyal? The way you were loyal to Alvin?” She spat, and he whirled around. “You’re a coward, Savage. You hide behind the skirts of the biggest man, hoping to be protected if you cower enough and kiss up to his orders. And the instant a bigger man shows up, you start cowering before him!”

     His face turned white, then red, then a dark shade of maroon. “Shut up. Shut UP. SHUT UP!” He lifted his hand and was about to slap her across the face when they heard a clattering from Dagur’s chambers. He was up, and evidently moving about.

     Savage shot her a baleful glare and strode into the cave, leaving Mahelsonei alone. She heard them speaking, but barely heard a few snatches. She moved closer to the entrance until she could hear the conversation. She peeked inside.

     Savage put a fist over his chest and bowed. “The fleet has returned, Dagur. No sign of the Skrill, or the Dragon Riders.”

     Dagur said nothing. He picked up his knife and with tremendous, but silent, force he rammed it into the stone wall of the cave, right in the middle of the Night Fury sketch.

     She could feel the icy cold of his rage, hatred, and abject failure coming off the insane young man in waves like gusts of wind in a blizzard from Hel. Dagur was always babbling, cackling, or threatening something. If he was silent, it was a portent of terrible misfortune for the next person who tried to talk to him. And –what luck!- the person talking to him now happened to be a total coward.

     She decided to leave. Her work was done, and she didn’t like hearing the screams of Dagur’s tortured victims.She had seen plenty of pain in her short term of life, and it wasn’t something she enjoyed watching. She decided to take a zipline to her house.

     Berserkers had a tendency to run a little on the reckless side. They invented a quick way to get from the top of the island to the bottom without having to deal with all the hassle of climbing up and down the catwalks. There were a few ziplines from the Chief’s house, mainly because it was a popular place to go for help. Or, rather, it used to be back when Osvald was in charge. She picked the one that led west, towards the lower island.

     She loved going down the ziplines. She loved the feel of the wind in her ears and the speed; Oh, the speed was glorious! She loved it, although the height bothered her a little. She was totally confident that the wire would hold her.

     The thrill of the zipline lasted only a few seconds. When the ground was close enough, she let go of the zipline and somersaulted across the ground. She leapt up, holding an imaginary glaive in her hands and bringing it down with a crack on the skull of an invisible Nadder with a shout.

     “Ee-yah!” She could practically see the skull split open under her blade. It had been a bad day, and she needed to blow off some steam. She swung the invisible glaive around, dashing up to a non-existent Gronckle and stabbing it in the soft spot at the base of its throat. Glaives were generally used by people who liked to run. As it was a two-handed weapon, she didn’t have to carry a shield. However, she could duck, dodge, bob, weave, sting and retreat, wreaking massive damage and then drawing back.

     After she had killed some more fake dragons, she finally sat down, slightly out of breath. She stood up and continued back to her home.

     Because real-estate was hard to come by on Berserker Island, they made use of the natural caves and crevices that formed there in any way possible. This included building houses directly into the side of a cliff, using an unoccupied cave and expanding it with pickaxes and shovels, or (rarely) building on flat ground. If you lived in the Berserker tribe, you would usually survive if you were unafraid of heights or the dark.

 

     The dark. She remembered when her family first told her about the history of the Berserker tribe. She had been a very small child then. Her grandmother, her teacher and one of her few living relatives, attempted to comfort her during a dragon attack. Their cave-home had been very dark that night, in an attempt to trick stray dragons into thinking that it was abandoned. The iron-enforced, wooden door had many times proven effective in keeping them out. But that night, Mahelsonei hadn’t been so sure.

     “Grandma, I’m scared. What if the dragons get in?”

     “They won’t get in, little one.” She pulled her granddaughter in closer. Little one. Her grandma had never called her anything else, and it was always in her tender, cracked voice. “Your mommy and daddy are very brave, and promised they would protect you, and that’s what they’re doing. Like our first leader promised his people.”

     She remembered looking up at her inquisitively. Mahelsonei had always thought that the Berserkers had somehow magically sprung up out of the ocean, and had always been here. Grandma continued. “Our first leader was Dietfried (Deet-freed) the Berserk. He was a generally well-liked man who loved his people very much. He was rarely stirred to anger, but when he was it was said that he had the power of Thor and the fury of the storming ocean.

     He and his famliy found Berserker Island uninhabited by humans, but densely populated with dragons. Having no place to claim as their own, they set out to take the island from the dragons. They were making very little progress until they came across a rare and powerful dragon. The Skrill.

     It was a huge and terrifying monster, with long, sharp spikes from its head to its tail that could cut a man in half, and huge, purple and black wings that could blow down houses. It didn’t breathe fire like a dragon. Oh no, this dragon had been blessed by Thor and used the power of His lightning and thunder to decimate its enemies with fatal bolts of lightning. This Skrill had been captured in a fishing net, by its own foolhardiness and greed, looking for food to steal from Dietfried’s family.

     It is said that Thor appeared in the sky and told Dietfried to craft a metal harness for the Skrill, and use it to kill the dragons of the island, as a gift for his unwavering faith that the gods would empower them with the strength and skill to take the island as their own.

     So he did as Thor directed, and used the Skrill as a weapon against the dragons. Within five days, every dragon on our Island was dead or driven away. As thanks to the gods, Dietfried sacrificed the Skrill to them and built a shrine on top of our mountain.

 

     “That is why the Skrill is our symbol, and we are known as the Berserkers.” Grandma finished her story just as the raid was letting up. My parents returned, blood stained and smelling a little burnt, but alive. I was never more happy to see them. Which was a good thing. The next raid was done by fellow Vikings. Outcasts, looking to spread fear and panic, and to take the things we had worked so hard to build. My mother and father were killed protecting our family not from dragons, but from other humans.

 

     She reentered her cave-home. Now that her parents were gone, only four of them lived here: Mahelsonei, her grandma, Hildegard, the village healer. Hildegard’s son and Mahelsonei’s uncle, Bjorn Sonjen, and her little brother Erick. She found her little brother playing on the floor with his wooden Viking toy, a little iron nail in its hand to substitute a sword.

     “Raar! I’m the biggest, strongest Viking on Berserker Island! Die Nadder!” He shook the wooden doll like it was viciously hammering an invisible dragon. It struck Mahelsonei that she had been doing something similar less than half an hour ago. She snuck up behind him, wrapped her arms around his chest under his arms, and flipped him upside down, hanging in the air with his butt in her face. “If you’re the biggest, strongest Viking on the island, then how come I have you upside down, huh?” She shook him up and down a few times.

     “Mahelsonei, cut it out! Grandma! Mahelsonei’s being mean to me!” he whined.

     The response was swift. “Little one, drop your brother now, or you’ll have no dinner tonight.”

     Sunny flipped him right side up and set him back down, hoping vainly that he would just blow a raspberry at her and continue playing with his toy. Nope. He rounded on his sister and started pounding her with his fists. “Why! Are you! So! Mean!?” She caught Erick’s fists and giggled “Because you’re my little brother and I love you.” Mahelsonei pecked him on the nose and let him go, leaving him to recoil from her kiss. She went to the back of the cave to see grandma.

     Mahelsonei gave her a hug around her thin waist. “Hi Grandma. How were things while I was gone?”

     She ran her fingers through her granddaughter's hair. “Well, no one died. A couple of people were ill, and had to splint a broken arm without you.” She returned the hug. “How was the trip?” Grandma had really long hair, like Mahelsonei did, except it had been red, but was now interspersed with multiple strands of gray. She wore a plain, Viking apron-dress, with beads stringing across the two huge buttons that held the straps in place. Her helmet had valkyrie wings, an asterisk helmet. Huge wrinkles lined her face, and she carried a staff with a gnarled top, wrapped in dragon leather.

     “Well, we found the Skrill, trapped in ice just like in the old papers. But the Skrill was taken by the Hooligans the instant we found them. We tried to ally with the Outcasts. Don’t ask, because I thought it was pretty dumb...” She told her all about how the Skrill was found again, how they took the Skrill back from the Outcasts and were about to attack Berk when the Hooligans found them and lured Dagur into a one-on-one fight with Hiccup and the Night Fury. Dagur was electrocuted by the Skrill and now it was nowhere to be seen and Dagur was recuperating.

     “That foolhardy young man is going to turn our village into rubble.” Grandma shook her head. “I think that all of us miss Osvald.”

 

     Sunny nodded. It was a consensus of opinion in her famliy that Dagur was definitely NOT the good kind of Deranged. He often turned on his own people and made terrible judgement calls. He couldn’t settle a dispute without a threat of torture, and he had never once shown pity, mercy, or compassion for his people. He treated his people and his enemies with equal hatred—or simply with the same amount of loathing. But he definitely knew how to stir a crowd to action, and for some reason knew exactly how to make anyone do what he wanted.

     And, knowing she had insulted Savage and Dagur during the voyage, she realized in hindsight that she was probably going to be doomed.

3: Suicide Mission

     It had been nearly two months since the failed invasion, and Dagur had been dishing out more punishments and random bursts of anger than ever. Until one day, Trader Johann came bringing news of a crazy huge thunderstorm striking a small island near the iceberg where the first Skrill was found. And the lightning was striking the island in the same spot, one small cave on the east side.

     Dagur, being the power-crazy freak of nature he was, instantly made a non-existent connection. He thought that the island MUST have Skrills. Because NONE of the islands in the Archipelago EVER get crazy huge storms with lots of lightning. So, the Berserker Tribe was once again ordered to pack up and get the Armada going again. Man, this nutcase loved his armada. He managed to drag almost all of the fighting Berserkers with him, everywhere we went. Leaving their island nearly completely unpopulated.

 

     With all of the recent, unexpected trips, Mahelsonei’s tribe had to develop new ways to keep invaders out with minimal manpower. Mostly, it involved large thick locks and heavy doors that a dragon would have trouble breaking through. The zipline handlebars were taken down while the adults were gone so that the kids wouldn’t try to use them. The elderly, the ill, and the crippled stayed behind to keep the kids out of trouble. So far, they had survived two raids like this with everyone gone, without a single loss of life. Dagur didn’t care. In fact, Mahelsonei speculated he would have enjoyed it thoroughly if people had died.

 

     Now, she was back on her ship, ‘Freya’s Heel’, in the galley making a fish stew for the crew. Her glaive leaned against the wall, the blade gleaming in the firelight. As the ship rocked back and forth, the reflective metal cast dancing lights all around the cabin. She knew they would be at the island soon, and this fish stew had to be ready before then, otherwise the crew would get pretty irritated.

     She dipped her little finger in and took a taste. Meh, it could have been better if it had more onions. But, all she had left was salt and a few withered and moldy looking cloves of garlic.

 

     Osvald liked fish stew. And if he didn’t, who could tell? He was always willing to go through anything with a smile on his face. Where Dagur got his ruthlessness and his utter insanity, no one could ever know for sure. But Osvald was probably the most beloved leader the Berserkers ever had.

      He had a large belly and a white beard like a sheep that had been glued to his face. His words were always soft spoken and gentle, but carried the weight of wisdom and good logic. He could be angry and firm when needed, but she never saw him raise his voice to anyone but his son. He usually kept his son in line, but when he was away, Dagur never hesitated to be ruthless and unnecessarily cruel. Osvald earned the name ‘the Agreeable’ because they had never had a single war with any of the other Viking tribes in the entire fifty years he was chief. The Hairy Hooligans, the Shivering Shores, the Meatheads, all of them. Life was good, under Osvald’s rule. Now, it was a living nightmare.

     She didn’t know that pretty soon, she would be offered a chance to wake up.

 

     “Landho!” She heard above. And then the stampeding of oversized men and women crashing down the steps to the galley. Mahelsonei quickly tried to scramble to get the dishes together, and filled with soup before they came. “Landho!” also meant “Dinnertime!” in the Berserker Tribe.

     She ran out of time, and soon she was forced to make them wait in a line. Have you ever tried making Vikings wait in line? It’s like trying to keep a kids away from a cake. She was soon mobbed, reaching hands groping for her soup spoon.

     “Hey, we’re hungry here, where’s the food?” “Hey, give us something to eat, will ya kid?” “Gimme that soup!” “I’m hungry now!”

     She gave up and just started whacking hands with the spoon. “Get back in line! One at a time, you’ll all get even portions. Shoo!”

     The mob did not disperse, so she just kept ladling out soup, whacking hands, and generally trying to keep them in check. Eventually everyone was fed and all were up on deck. Mahelsonei  snatched up her glaive and her helmet before she left the kitchens. All the crew was assembled and at attention on deck. Her helmet slid down one side of her head.

     She never understood why Viking helmets had horns. They were heavy, awkward, and were just a handhold for an enemy to grab in battle. She took a look at herself in the reflection on her glaive. However, the horns did make her look super-duper awesome. I guess they could serve as an intimidation factor, she thought. But do Vikings really need to be even more intimidating than we are already?

     The captain paced in front of them, his horns standing out against the cloudy sky.“All right, you lot! We’ve got a Skrill to catch today, and if we come back empty-handed, we come back without our heads. We’ve got orders to spread out, search the beach for any caves that look like a dragon would live in ‘em!” He waved his hammer in the air, “Scatter and search! For the glory of the Berserker Tribe!”

     The crew lifted their weapons in a cheer! Mahelsonei cheered as well, but the Berserker girl thought it was a little odd. Her people hadn’t even done war cheers in ages. Their grandparents had to reteach them all the old warcries. She didn’t like it. It felt a little weird; it was too different. But it felt kind of good at the same time.

 

     So all of them slid down the gangplank and began searching the island—now being called Dagur Isle, from what she’d heard from everyone else—for anything that looked like a Skrill’s nest. Mahelsonei’s group had to search the southwest shore. They were there for two hours, when one of the men sounded his horn. Two blasts, followed by one long one, and a short one. He’d found something. Everyone crowded around the spot and saw the same thing. A scorch mark that crunched like glass when it was stepped on, surrounded by dragon prints that none of them recognized. The prints were leading away, and marks on either side following the footprints’ disappearance indicated it went up into the air. But, there was another scorch mark next to a cave higher up on the mountain.

     Dagur grinned. Then he started to giggle, then he cackled for a long time, his hands raised in a jubilant expression of crazy, deranged joy. “Oohohoho! Yehahahaha! Ahahahahaha-haaa!” He pointed up at the cavern, “Climb the walls, men! Search the cave!”

     All of them, Mahelsonei included, started scaling the walls, when Dagur called again. “No, wait. All of you, get back here!” The Vikings started going back, when he pointed into their midst with his sword. “You.” He growled,

     “Me?” Spitwad pointed at himself.

     “No not you, the little twerp standing next to you.”

     He was pointing at me. Oh no.

     “You. Go into that cave and see what’s in there. And when you find something... report back.” He giggled again, leering like a devil.

     She knew, instantly, that he meant to kill her, by sending her on a suicide mission. All because she knew that he was completely out of his mind.

4: The Twins Blow Something Up

     “Go on, girl. Climb up that cliff, and find the Skrill nest.”

     Mahelsonei was rooted to the spot. Her glaive trembled in her hand. Dagur planned on feeding her to the Skrill. If she ran away, he’d kill her without a second thought. If she went, she would get fried by a lightning demon. If she begged to send someone else, or gave a lame excuse, Dagur would kill her for being weak. He knew that sending her to find the Skrill was a suicide mission. But, she had a better chance of finding the Skrill and coming back alive than she did of surviving an axe swing to the neck. So, she stiffened her back and sheathed her glaive in her belt. “Fine!” She called back. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

     “Don’t bother, Mahelsonei! We’ll be listening for your screams!” He laughed.

     She did her best to ignore him. She just put her feet and hands on the cliff and did the one thing she did better than painting and getting herself into trouble; rock climbing. This cliff was definitely a challenge. She eventually made it to the top, at the mouth of the cave, about 30 feet up.

 

     She suddenly felt a wave of nausea as she felt the fear in her heart start to overtake her. But what would she rather do? Get her head taken off by a total lunatic and die for sure, or find one of the deadliest dragons in history and possibly get her head blown off by an evil lightning dragon?

      She had to pick the dragon. She could probably just take a glimpse at the thing, unnoticed, and quickly sneak back. However, she didn’t know that her choice would affect her life for the rest of her life, however short it would be.

     She slipped into the cave, sliding her glaive out of its holster on her belt, her feet making little noise in the cave. She was born and raised in stonework caverns, she knew exactly how to move around in them quietly. She listened, carefully, for even the slightest echo.

     She felt a breeze coming from her left. That would mean fresh air, and an exit possibly large enough for a dragon to get to the sky. She smelled something else... something weird, like the air in a storm. Mahelsonei didn’t know this, but what she was smelling was ozone. The result of an oxygen molecule being electrically bonded to two more, an atmospheric compound that forms during lightning strikes. She followed the storm smell through the caverns for a few miles until she stopped for a drink of water.

 

     As she sat down on the floor of the cavern, downing her water, she thought to herself, Osvald would never have put any of us through this kind of grief. He would have walked away and let old wounds heal. Not Dagur, though. He can’t stop thinking about the Berkians and their dragons, can he?

     She didn’t like the Hooligans either. Mahelsonei thought they were too arrogant and pompous for their own good. They were unfriendly, secretive, and manipulative. But, they tended to be a little bit more merciful than Dagur and his loyal cronies.

     She continued again, but now she could hear echoes. They sounded like dragons. She started sticking closer to the cavern walls, her glaive ready to impale anything that got too close. She stepped on a pebble and it made a loose, gentle clattering on the ground. She froze. What if a dragon had heard that?

 

     The black dragon sat bolt upright, its green eyes narrowed. The ear-like flaps on its head were sticking straight up. Something else was in this cave, and it didn’t sound like a Skrill to him. His rider noticed the change in demeanor, a one legged boy with a mop of brown hair on his head. “What is it, bud?”

     The black dragon growled something that only his rider would comprehend. The boy’s expression darkened. A blond girl riding a spiky blue dragon asked, “What is it Hiccup?”

     “Toothless heard something.”

     “So what?” Another blond girl with a horned helmet perched on her head. She was riding on the neck of a green, two-headed dragon. A blond boy who looked very similar to her sat on the other head. The boy on the opposite head said, “So, it means something big might be following us and it’ll try to eat us.” He smirked. “I vote we feed Ruffnut to it.” The girl punched the boy in the face in response.

     “I vote we split up and look through the caves all at the same time.” A thickly built boy, riding an equally big dragon.

     “Good idea, Fishlegs. Ruff, Tuff, you take the cave on the far left. Fishlegs, you and Meatlug take the middle left. Snotlout, you take middle right and Astrid takes far right. Toothless and I will search the middle. We’ll meet back up in five minutes, holler if you see anything unusual.”

     “Why do I have to take the middle right tunnel? That one looks dumb and boring.” A strapping kid with a horned helmet groaned. His dragon, a strange species with only two legs that walked on the joints of its wings and its feet, burst into flames briefly. “OW! Hookfang, cut it out!”

     Hiccup turned around on his black dragon. “Well, do you want one that looks like it’ll lead to the Skrill nest, Snotlout?”

     Snotlout turned back and grumbled, urging his dragon into the tunnel.

 

     “You know what’d be cool? If that Skrill showed up and completely destroyed everything.” Tuffnut sniggered.

     “You know what’d be cool? If that Skrill showed up and we beat the snot out of it.”

     “What, did that thing eat Snotlout? Why do have to beat Snotlout out of it?”

     Ruffnut gave an exasperated groan, “It didn’t eat Snotlout. I meant completely kick it’s butt!” Her dragon head murmured and scrowled.

     “Huh-huh, That would be cool.” Tuffnut laughed stupidly.

     Mahelsonei stayed in the shadows of the cavern wall, watching the Zippleback and its riders pass. She kept her glaive gripped tightly in her hand, sliding around to behind the Zippleback, just clear of its tail. As the two twins were arguing with one another over what would be more awesome—seeing a Skrill shoot its lightning at a ship or seeing it shoot at Snotlout—she leapt, taking all four (three? Does the Zippleback count as two or one?) by surprise. But the dragon reacted quickly, its heads parting left and right quick as a blink. Mahelsonei landed into a somersault roll, jabbing her glaive where the Zippleback’s heads should have been, but it disappeared. She looked around wildly, looking for the Zippleback and its riders. She heard a growl to her left, and another to her right, confused, she froze for a moment. That moment was all that Ruff and Tuff needed to encourage Barf and Belch to action.

     Mahelsonei realized too late it was right behind her. Ruff yelled, “Barf, grab her stick!” The head on the right came from behind, lunging forward, snatching Mahelsonei’s glaive in its teeth, tossing it to the side of the cavern with a clatter. It started spouting sickly greenish gas. Tuff called out, “Belch, light ‘em up!”

     The gas caught fire, and Mahelsonei watched with horror as the flames quickly drew closer and closer until they exploded. She remembered sailing into the cave wall and smacking her head into the cave wall and seeing black night carry her consciousness into oblivion on wings made out of sparkling stars.

5: The Armada Is Here

     They turned around heading back to the cave junction; for once, the twins had done something that was relatively useful. “Huh-huh, wait’ll they see this.” Ruffnut chuckled. “We got a random crazy chick with a sharp stick!”

     Tuffnut was quiet for a second. “Did you see her helmet? That’s a Berserker’s helmet.”

     Ruffnut looked at him for a second, then pulled back on Barf’s horns to make him stop. Belch responded to the ‘Brake signal’ as well, stopping the whole dragon. “Wait. You’re saying that Stick Chick is a Berserker.”

     “Well, duh!” Tuffnut deadpanned. “Which means...”

     They both knew what the other was thinking. The Berserkers were here. They needed to find their friends and that Skrill nest before the other Berserkers did.

 

     They charged back to the cave junction, unable to hold back even a little bit of speed, urging their dragon on with encouraging words. Sure, the twins were immature and were enthralled by carnage and destruction. But this was a life-or-death emergency. The twins held very little regard for their own lives, willing to risk life and limb for another charge of adrenaline. It was what made them stupid and formiddable. But when facts came down to the lives of their friends, the dragons, or their people, was the only time they were ever serious.

 

      Everyone else was already there, dismounted from their dragons. “When are the twins going to get back?” Astrid grumbled.

     The Zippleback and its riders charged into the cavern, coming to a screeching halt. “Guys, you will not believe what we just found.” Ruffnut panted.

     Tuff pointed at the object laying across Barf and Belch’s back. “We found a Crazy Stick Chick! And we totally beat the Snotlout out of her!”

     “What’d you call me?” Snotlout flashed a glare at the twins.

     “Calm down, Snotlout.” Hiccup gestured at Snotlout with a downturned palm. “What did you find?”

     “A crazy stick chick.” Tuffnut said again. He urged Belch to grab the Berserker by the collar and place her at Hiccup’s feet. She was unconscious, bound hand and foot. Her glaive clattering next to her. Hiccup took a deep breath in aprehension. What he had dreaded was already happening.

     “She’s a Berserker.” He deadpanned.

     “Which means there are Berserkers on this island right now!” Astrid frowned. She fingered her axe.

     “Eh, that’s really, really bad Hiccup.” Fishlegs started subconsciously stroking Meatlug. “If Berserkers are here, they know about the Skrill nest. And if they know about the Skrill nest, it means that Dagur’s here, and if Dagur’s here—“

     “It means he has the Armada here too.” Hiccup finished.

6: Hookfang, the 5,000-Pound Alarm Clock

     “Okay, we officially have no time to waste or spare.” Astrid swung herself back into Stormfly’s saddle. “Every second we wait is one second the Berserkers get closer.”

     “She’s right.” Meatlug bowed, letting Fishlegs climb onto her back. He strapped himself in, careful of his dragon’s diminutive wings. “Did anybody see anything that looked like it would lead to the Skrill’s nest.”

     Everyone was silent. Hiccup took a deep breath. “Snotlout? Did you notice anything?”

     “Umm... no. Well, maybe.” He scratched his neck. “So what? I got off Hookfang for a second because I needed to take a le-“

     Astrid cut him off.  “Don’t have to know that part. Did you see anything?”

     “Yeah, a bunch of huge scorch marks on the wall, and it smelled kind of weird in there too. It smelled like a storm, but without the rain.”

     “Yep, that sounds like our quarry.” Fishlegs nodded.

     “Question! I got a question!” Tuffnut put up a hand.

     Hiccup gave an exasperated sigh. “What is it Tuffnut?”

     “Does yak vomit really smell like low tide?”

     Hiccup inhaled sharply. “Yeah, I’m not gonna answer that.”

     “I got one!” Ruffnut put up her hand as well.

     “If it’s about Yak vomit, don’t ask us now.” Astrid groaned.

     “It isn’t!” Ruffnut said indignantly “What are we gonna do with Stick chick and her crazy stick?”

     “Actually, it’s called a glaive,” Fishlegs corrected. “It’s a weapon that’s used frequently in countries further south because it has a long reach and can be effectively used nearly anyone. Why it’s in the Archipelago, I don’t know.

     "I’ll take her.” Astrid volunteered. “If we leave her with the twins, odds are she’ll escape.” The twins protested indignantly.

     “I’ll take her glaive.” Fishlegs volunteered. “I’ve never seen one up close before, and it’d be a good idea to keep her weapon away from her.”

     “Good idea. I’ll go with Snotlout to the cavern, see if the Skrill really is there. We’ll call if we get in trouble.” Toothless murmured, nudging Hiccup in the back as if to say, ‘How can you get into trouble if I’m around?’

     “See you then.” Astrid nodded, Ruffnut and Tuffnut helping her remove the Berserker from Barf and Belch’s back.

     The boys and their dragons slid through the darkness quietly. Even Snotlout and Hookfang understood how important it was to be quiet. Toothless made literally no noise whatsoever,  but Hookfang’s oversized claws shook loose a few stray pebbles.

     Toothless growled at the Monstrous Nightmare, communicating his distaste for his lack of stealth. Hookfang hissed back an unapologetic apology, evidently unable to help the fact that his species was built for maximum intimidation and firepower, unlike the Night Fury. By some small mercy of Odin, they emerged into a large-ish cavern. True to what Snotlout said, it stank of ozone in here, and the walls were covered in scorch marks. Off to his left, Hiccup spied something. A small spark. He nudged Snotlout and pointed in the direction of the light. He nodded, urging Hookfang to scale the cave wall. Toothless’ claws weren’t long enough to climb the cave walls, but he was agile enough to leap from stalagmite to stalagmite with little trouble. What they beheld was unbelievable.

     It was a Skrill. A huge one, bigger than the one that Dagur had captured. She had a paler coloration overall, mostly a dark lavender color with a pale blue underbelly and carbon-colored markings on her wings. She appeared to be asleep, curled up in a circle around three tiny balls of sparking lightning. The spikes on her back lay flat in her slumber, like a pile of swords. But Hiccup knew from recent experience that those spikes could easily stick straight up like a forest of razor-sharp trees. For once, he was dumbfounded as to how he would train this dragon.

     “Great,” Snotlout hissed. “We’ve found it, now let’s get out of here.”

     “Wait.” Hiccup gestured with his palm facing Snotlout again.

     “For what? We know it’s here, now let’s get out of here before that thing wakes up.”

     “Snotlout, she has eggs. She can’t leave without endangering them. We’re going to have to protect her another way.” He urged Toothless back, the black dragon dissolving into the cavern’s shadows like they were made of shadow themselves. “Let’s get back to the others.”

     “Finally, you listen to me!” Snotlout groaned. Hookfang churred in agreement. They crawled across the cliff wall, Hookfang clinging to every crevice with his enormous claws as they made their way back. Toothless gracefully leapt from precipice to stalagmite to outcropping like a professional acrobat.

     Suddenly, the rock wall cracked with a thunderous splitting sound as it splintered under Hookfang’s 5,000 pounds of muscle and bone, sending both the dragon and its rider tumbling into the cavern. “HICCUP!” Snotlout yelled. The one-legged Viking and the Night Fury turned around just in time to see them crashing on top of the mother Skrill.

     Snotlout fell out of Hookfang’s saddle, landing on the ground with a thump. He shook his head, trying to clear his head of the stars that plugged up his senses. He realized only too late where he was sitting. In between his knees was a perfect sphere of crackling lightning. Inside, he could see a tiny shape, a curled up little dragon with diminutive wings.

     “Oh Thor.”

     The mother Skrill opened one red, bloodshot eye. The first thing she saw was Snotlout sitting on her egg. The thin, purple shell seemed to cave ever so slightly from the pressure of his knee, precious lightning arcing to the point of contact within the shell like a lightning globe at a science fair. Her fury was instantaneous and absolute. She reared her head and hissed, static crackling across her scales. She was giving a crystal clear, and universally understood warning, which was more than fair on her part considering the circumstances.

     “Oh, heh-heh, was this yours?” Snotlout pointed at the globe between his knees, chuckling nervously. He lifted his knee off the egg, standing up backing away slowly. “I am very sorry m’am. Didn’t mean to disturb you there. Completely my dragon’s fault.” He had his palms up in a non-threatening gesture. Hookfang snapped his jaws in umbrage, as if to say it was Snotlout’s fault as well, but the teenager ignored him.

     Hiccup could barely believe his eyes. The dragon was responding to Snotlout. The dragon’s eyes were already a little more relaxed, but it still growled at Snotlout and Hookfang. Clearly, she was still pretty angry about them waking her up, and entering her sanctuary uninvited.

     “Um, listen, I hate to be rude--Well, that’s a lie. I like being rude to Hiccup--” Snotlout kept one hand, palm up, in the air. “But there are some really, really bad Vikings coming to take you and your eggs. We’re here to protect you, but if you wanna keep your eggs safe, you should come with us.”

     The dragon hissed, sparks crackling across her wings and skin again. She didn’t care. Let them come, she had driven off threats before. The scorch marks on the wall were proof of that. Meanwhile, this human and his sounds irritated her, and he had already threatened her eggs. It was time for him to get the hint and leave. She let the lightning build in her throat. Suddenly, another dragon (riderless this time) leapt to the ground. It was a dragon like a winged panther; sleek, black, and utterly lethal. He gave a screeching roar, proclaiming that if she attacked the human, she would face him.

     The Skrill took this as a threat, and changed her target from the annoying human to the rival dragon. She fired a blast of pure lightning, the boom of the thunder temporarily deafening the dragons’ sensitive ears, but she missed as the black dragon dodged with unnatural speed. It had jumped halfway across the cavern, and fired a plasma bolt right behind her crown of metallic spikes. She shook her head, stunned momentarily. Toothless saw this weakness instantly and pounced, bringing her to the ground.

 

     Astrid heard the boom as she was tying the unconscious enemy to her dragon’s saddle. “What was that?”

     “My guess? Hiccup’s encounter with the Skrill isn’t going well.” Fishlegs commented nervously.

     “Wait, he’s fighting the Skrill?” Tuffnut perked up. “Why can’t we fight the Skrill? It sounds awesome.”

     “Yeah, I wanna see Tuffnut take a bolt to the chest!”

     “That. Would be. Awesome!” They butted heads, their helmets clanging as they guffawed.

     “Not now, guys! We gotta get to Hiccup before he’s Skrill bait.” Astrid tightened the last rope on their captive and leapt back into her saddle, her axe out of its sheath. “C’mon, Stormfly! Let’s go!” Her Nadder squawked and took off, flying in low and tight in the cavern passages. All three dragons emerged in the cavern, maws blazing, peppering the Skrill with fire. She shot lightning at Stormfly, who artfully dodged the shot.

     “No, stop! You’re only making her mad! We need her to calm down, not blow us all to pieces!”

     “Where’s the fun in that?” Ruffnut and Tuffnut whooped, Barf and Belch swerving to avoid another blast of lightning. The Skrill shot another bolt, which struck Astrid and Stormfly with a crackle and a boom. Stormfly siezed in midair, screeching an ear-splitting roar, drowning out Astrid’s own scream. As they fell to earth, Hookfang caught them with his huge talons. Snotlout cheered, “Snotlout, Snotlout, oi! Oi! Oi!”

     “Okay, that’s it.” Hiccup inhaled, and jumped off the cliff from where he’d been. Toothless leapt, catching him in the saddle. Hiccup’s artificial foot clicked as it locked in the pedal. Now, they were one. They banked sharply, Toothless firing a plasma bolt at the same spot behind the Skrill’s head. It halted, stunned again, as Toothless crashed into it with his legs outstretched, tumbling onto the floor. The Skrill was out of shots now, and without a thunderstorm to recharge  it had no choice but to face all five dragons and six Vikings at once.

 

     The Skrill was furious. She had been sound asleep, minding her own business, when a dragon dropped on top of her. She was only protecting her eggs, they were the aggressors! This was unacceptable to her. Anger, and more than a little fear flooded her body. If she fell, she was sure that they would take her young. She felt weak now. The fire from the attacking dragons had taken its toll on her strength, and the energy she’d expended was beyond recovery.

     Hiccup and Toothless took advantage of the opening, clipping up to the roof of the cavern and diving, firing two more plasma blasts at her weak spot behind her head.

     The female Skrill wobbled on her two legs, collapsed, unconscious now. They had defeated her.

 

     The black dragon landed, and his rider disembarked, keeping a careful hand on his dragon in case he needed to get back in the saddle. Toothless sniffed the Skrill, churring quietly to Hiccup. “Yeah, I know, bud.” He scratched his head, his fingers tousling his brown hair. “How are we going to explain this to her when she wakes up?” A small spark jumped off the Skrill’s skin and connected with Hiccup’s metal prosthetic with a zap. He cried out, the weak current jolting his bad leg.

     “Ud-uhfi!” A voice called from the corner of the cavern. Astrid stood wobblingly to her feet. Stormfly was already up, both girl and dragon looking a little punch-drunk.”

     “Ar-gafblor Rill?” She gestured at the Skrill with her axe.

     Hiccup was quiet for a second. Then burst out laughing. “Bwa-ha-ha! I-I’m sorry Astrid, could you say that again? I didn’t qu-quite get that! Oh, man!” Astrid huffed, and punched Hiccup in the arm.Then, everyone started laughing at her. Fishlegs had to hold on to Meatlug just to stay standing.

     “Bwar wabbem armr!” She shouted, furiously. She gasped. Her sharp blue eyes caught movement on the cliffs. “Narsh! Narsh, bir shuramid!” She pointed at the moving shadows at the top of the cavern. But they didn’t listen! They kept laughing at her scrambled speech.

     She punched Hiccup in the arm again, “Okay! Fine, we’ll quit laughing at you, Astrid.” He rubbed his arm. No, she didn’t want an apology, she wanted his attention! She grabbed his jaw, forcefully pointed it in the direction of the cliff, and jabbing her finger at the Berserkers taking aim with their crossbows.

     “Barsherfer!” She yelled. They finally understood what she meant, and all of them paled in fear as they realized they could not escape the eyes of the Berserker marksmen.

7: Mother's Love

     “Hello again, Hiccup!” Dagur waved at the Riders with false, malicious cheer. “Aww, did you take down that Skrill just for me? You shouldn’t have.” He cackled.

     Hiccup edged closer to Snotlout, and in a low voice he growled, “If we ever get out of this alive Snotlout, you and Hookfang are going to be doing stealth drills from now until Ragnarok.”

     Snotlout hissed back, “It’s not my fault. If someone hadn’t sic’d Toothless on grumpy mommy over there, I could have had it!”

     Nets dropped from overhead, ensnaring all of the Riders and their dragons. The winged lizards thrashed and screeched and howled, but didn’t burn out of the net. They had used up all of their fire taking down the Skrill, and even if they hadn’t they would have risked injuring their humans by escaping.

     Hiccup and Toothless were the only ones who weren’t struggling. Toothless and Hiccup both knew that they had two plasma blasts left, and would have a third one in about five minutes. Hiccup called over the din, “Stop struggling guys. They’ve got us.”

     They begrudgingly did as their de facto leader asked. Snotlout, however, completely ignored him. “Hookfang, flame up!”

     The Monstrous Nightmare’s eyes narrowed, and his skin burst into flames, making quick work of the net. It quickly extinguished, using up his last reservoirs of flammable saliva. But Hookfang’s sharp claws soon freed Fishlegs and the twins from their nets, and they quickly mounted up and charged.

 

     The ensuing fight was utter chaos. The Barf and Belch’s tails whipped around like lashes, grabbing Berserkers by the throats and tossing them into the throng. Hookfang’s talons and tail disarmed and drove back ten of them while Meatlug found a sizeable boulder. Her powerful jaws quickly reduced it to rubble, refuelling her shot limit. The Gronckle laid out three perfectly placed blasts of red-hot lava, driving the Berserkers further back. Arrows rattled off Meatlug’s thick skin like pellets of hail on a rooftop. However, one bolt managed to sever a single leather strap, and Mahelsonei’s captured glaive fell to the floor, nearly unnoticed.

     Fishlegs was busy using his knife to cut Hiccup and Toothless free. Toothless’ teeth ripped the rest of the net to shreds. Hiccup mounted up and Toothless released a shrieking bolt of plasma, which hit the cliff where Dagur stood.

     He yelled as he tumbled to the bottom of the cavern, stunned. Ignoring their fallen leader, the Berserkers attempted to swarm the Night Fury. Toothless swept his tail in an arc, tossing three of the men back like rag dolls. His jaws, teeth retracted, closed on one axe-wielding Viking and threw him back into the throng, knocking down two more like bowling pins. Hiccup’s shield deflected several bolts away from Toothless as they waded their way through the skirmish.

 

     It was now that Mahelsonei finally woke up. She would have been horrified to find herself weaponless and hog-tied. But, the main article of her focus was Dagur. He was making his way to the Skrill, shoving his way past his own men to reach the unconscious mother. Her mind was blown by how huge the Skrill actually was. She was even bigger than the male they had found two months ago. She also saw the three, canteloupe-sized lightning spheres that had rolled into a corner beside her. Her eggs, completely defenseless.

     The Skrill awoke as well. Her huge, red-rimmed eyes fluttered a second as Dagur’s shadow passed over them. He looked down at her and sneered as he advanced towards her flickering eggs.

     The female saw Mahelsonei laying on the floor, the only Viking not engaged in the fight. Their eyes met for one second, and the world stopped turning as they stared.

     Now we’ll never know for sure what happened exactly. Some people say that Odin was bored that day and decided to watch for a minute or two and drag out the moment. Others say that the hearts and souls of the human and the dragon connected. I personally think that something in that Skrill’s eyes reminded Sunny of her own mother. The worry, the love, the ferocity and the pity all wrapped in one single glance communicated one single need to the young woman.

     Help me.

 

     Now Mahelsonei had looked into plenty of dragon eyes, mostly as the dying lights of their lives were extinguished by her own hand. But this was different.

     She responded by struggling to her feet, her head reeling from what might have been a concussion. She slithered over to her fallen weapon and cut her bonds on the sharp blade. Once her hands and feet were free, she snatched up her glaive and charged Dagur as his sword was poised over one of the eggs.

     “Stop!!” She roared. “Dagur, don’t!”

     He turned around, gave one maniacal grin, and plunged his sword into one of the eggs. The thin purplish skin split, and the tiny charge of lightning arced up his sword, illuminating his face.

     Mahelsonei staggered. He just killed an unborn dragon. She understood defending herself. She understood killing to protect her grandmother and her baby brother. But what he had done was unforgiveable. He had killed a babe in the cradle, in front of its mother. Mahelsonei couldn’t place why, but she felt like he had stabbed the sword into her chest instead.

     He raised his sword again and chopped the second one in half. “Oooh, it tingles.” He giggled. The Mother Skrill moaned, unable to stop him. She looked at him pitiably. He turned around. “Well, I only need one Skrill. Besides, I like watching you plead.” He leered. His sword raised for the last time. The lightning-filled egg crackled feebly, as if the hatchling inside knew it was going to die before it had ever even been born. The sword came down, but was met with a solid clang! as steel met steel.

     Dagur stumbled back, shocked by what he saw. One of his own dragon-killing Berserkers crouched between his sword and the egg, the shaft of her weapon pushing against the blade of his sword.

     “How DARE YOU!” He screamed. He swung the sword in an arc, meaning to behead Sunny. She parried with her glaive again, twisting around and catching Dagur under the arm with the spear-like end of her glaive, opposite the blade. She gave one enormous lift, and tossed him onto his back. He rolled out of the way as her blade came down on the cave floor.

     “How dare you, Dagur! You send your own soldiers into a death trap, and now you’re killing a mother’s children in front of her. You monster!” She stood her ground, one hand on the pointed end of her glaive, the other in the middle of he shaft, her two-foot long blade gleaming wickedly in the light of the fires.

     “Well, I am Deranged, aren’t I?” He shrugged, then charged her. He feinted left, catching her with the pommel on her chin, knocking her over on the ground. She thought fast, sweeping his feet with a quick swipe of the blade, but he jumped before the shaft could connect with his ankles. She stood up quickly and blocked as he came at her again with a two-handed stroke. They traded blows back and forth as the weakening Skrill murmured and groaned, trying to support her champion.

 

     Hiccup watched quietly as Mahelsonei took daring risk after risk to keep Dagur from the surviving Skrill egg. The skrimish was nearly over, many of the Berserkers retreating with their wounded compatriots. Dagur and Mahelsonei were the only ones left in the cave. But Dagur wasn’t willing to give in yet. He threw down his sword and swept an abandoned crossbow off the ground. “I’ll kill you, you-you traitor!” He let loose the loaded bolt, the shaft whizzing through the air. Mahelsonei didn’t have time to dodge.

     Every rider in the cave gasped when the bolt found its mark.

     Mahelsonei stood up, confused. The Skrill collapsed in front of her, her chest heaving as blood pooled on the floor. The mother Skrill had leapt between Mahelsonei and Dagur just as the madman pulled the trigger.

     Dagur squeaked. He dropped the crossbow and turned tail, fleeing the nest with his tail between his legs. No one noticed him leave.

     Mahelsonei knelt down next to the Skrill, her knees splashing in the blood. “You saved me. Why?” The girl’s hand covered her mouth. She’d seen this kind of injury before on other dragons. This Skrill was only going to live another minute. The beast groaned as she craned her head around to give one last look at her egg. Her last surviving child. She turned again and locked eyes with the young woman.

     Her snout pushed up underneath her hand, the scales rasping on the ground. An electric tingle jumped up her arm as her palm made contact with the snout. She felt the Skrill’s last hot breath leave her nostrils as it gave up the ghost.

8: Adopting to the Situation

     Mahelsonei sat in the Skrill’s blood for a minute. A dragon had just died in front of her and for the first time ever, she felt tremendous mourning. She protected her, sacrificed herself to save the human who failed to defend her. As much as she wanted to cry, the tears just wouldn’t come. Her fist clenched around the wood of her glaive, the iron core adding a comfortable weight.

     “Umm, this might sound like a bad time, but who the heck are you?” Fishlegs shuffled closer.

     Mahelsonei stood up, glad they couldn’t see her face under her helm. Dark red blood dripped from the hem of her skirt. She clenched her glaive in her hand and just glared at them. She felt a cold iron sphere forming in her gut as she tried to bury her depression and wrath. She turned around and walked to the last Skrill egg. Lightning still arced from the center of the sphere to the thin purple skin of the egg. The hatchling still lived. She picked it up and held it close to her chest. Hiccup held up a hand as if he was going to protest her touching it. But then he remembered how that Skrill had looked when it had died. The Skrill had chosen Mahelsonei to protect her nest, for reasons that no one completely understood.

    "I understand that I’m still your prisoner.” Her voice was low and lethal. “But if you want this egg, you’ll have to take it from my icy, dead hands.” She drew in close to Hiccup’s face. “Is that clear?”

     “Um, sure.” He blinked. “By the way, I don’t think we caught your name.”

     “I don’t think I dropped it.”

     “Well, everybody’s got a name. We can’t keep calling you ‘Crazy Stick Chick’.”  He folded his arms.

     She hesitated. “Mahelsonei. I am Mahelsonei Jephon Sonjen of the Berserker Tribe.”

     “That’s a weird name.” Ruffnut elbowed her brother. “What kind of a name is Mill Sunny?”

     “Yeah. Why can’t she have a normal name like any other respectable Viking?” Tuffnut muttered.

     Snotlout pushed his way forward, sweeping low into a bow before Mahelsonei. “Ignore those losers, please. I am Snotlout Jorgenson of the Hooligan Tribe. That pig-headed dragon over there is Hookfang.”

     Tuffnut shoved Snotlout out of the way. “Hi, I’m Tuffnut, the guy you tried to kill a few hours ago? The ugly one over there is my sister Ruffnut. And the Zippleback, you know, the one whose heads you tried to cut off? That’s Barf and Belch.” His sister folded her arms and leered at Mahelsonei. Evidently, they didn’t appreciate the fact that she had tried to kill their dragon.

     The big kid with the Gronckle walked forward and held out a hand for her to shake. When she didn’t accept it—her hands were full—he put his hands behind his back. “I’m Fishlegs, and this is my dragon Meatlug.” The Gronckle licked his face with a huge, wet pink tongue. Mahelsonei let herself smile when she saw this, knowing no one would see under her helm.

     The girl with the axe pushed her bangs out of her eyes. “I’m Astrid, this is Stormfly.” The brilliant blue Nadder was busy preening its tail, but it lifted its head and squawked as if to say ‘hello’.

     Hiccup was about to introduce himself when Mahelsonei cut him off. “Don’t worry, I know who you are. The Dragon Tamer, right? I thought you’d be skinnier.”

     Hiccup was willing to overlook her obvious jab, but Toothless wasn’t. He hissed as a warning to the strange girl. “And this must be the legendary Toothless. He’s every inch the dragon they say he is. Even the missing tail.” She took a deep breath. “Now, my turn for a question. What do you do to your prisoners, kid?”

     “Umm, wow, straight to the point.” Hiccup scratched his head. He suddenly felt very awkward. “I’ve never taken a prisoner before.”

     “Well I know what you do to a prisoner!” Snotlout piped up. He shoved Hiccup out of the way. “You tie them to a chair and interrogate them! You search ‘em for anything valuable they’ve got. If it’s in their pockets or--” He said this last part in a quiet voice, getting right up in Sunny’s face. “in their heads.”

     Mahelsonei gagged when she smelled his breath, and kicked him in the chest, managing not to pop the egg. He fell back on his butt to the floor with an oof! “Stay outta my face, Snotwad.”

     “Ooh, she just kicked Snotlout.” Ruff sang in a sing-songy voice.

     “She is sooo gonna get it.” Tuff snickered.

     Hiccup and Fishlegs had to hold him back as he tried to rush the Berserker. “You got a death wish? Huh? Did you really just kick the owner of a Monstrous Nightmare? Hookfang! Annihilate!”

     The mighty monster rose its head, looked Sunny up and down, and settled back down. Completely ignoring the struggling rider. “Hookfang, I said ‘annihilate’! Stupid dragon!”

     “Calm down, Snotlout.” Fishlegs tightened his grip on Snotlout’s left arm. “We’re not going to interrogate her.”

     “We’re not?” The twins were dumbstruck.

     “No. If you want something, you ask politely. Something you’d know nothing about.” He let go of his arm, and he stayed where he was, dark clouds fuming over his head. Fishlegs cleared his throat. “Pardon my colleague, miss. May I see that egg for a minute, just to examine it?”

     Mahelsonei glared at him. Highly effective, since all he could see were her eyes. “I thought I made it clear. You try to take this egg, I’ll whip you so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

     “Fishlegs, come here for a second.” Hiccup motioned his friend over.

     “She’s protecting that egg.” Hiccup muttered.

     “Yeah, so?”

     “The Berserkers came here to capture the Skrill, but Dagur smashed two of the eggs.”

     “Yeah, I know. What does that have to do with—” Fishlegs gasped. “You don’t think she’s protecting that egg for Dagur, do you?”

     “On the one hand, she might be. On the other hand, you did see her stand up to Dagur to protect those eggs. And the Mother Skrill did try to save her life.”

     “It could have been a ploy. Win the Skrill’s loyalty and it would have come along quietly.” Fishlegs pointed out. “Dagur might have been pretending to shoot her, but the Skrill jumped and caught the bolt anyway. No one would have predicted that.”

     “So you’re saying she might have been playing along. And Dagur smashed those eggs so we wouldn’t be able to hatch and train our own Skrill.” Hiccup guessed.

     “It’s a distinct possibility. I think we should take her back to Berk and see what she knows, maybe find out what they’re plotting.”

     “You just said ‘We’re not going to interrogate her’.”

     Fishlegs bit his lip. Hiccup continued. “If she really did betray Dagur, she won’t be welcome back on Berserker Island. And she’s obviously not gonna let that egg out of her sight. If we try to take it, we could kill the Skrill inside.”

     "So you’re saying we should take her either way?”

     “Exactly, Fishlegs.”

     They turned around. Hiccup spoke. “Alright, Mahelsonei, was it? Looks like you’re coming with us to Berk.”

     “Okay.”

     “Now, don’t get any funny ideas about esca—What?”

     “I said, ‘Okay’. Is that a problem?”

     Hiccup was taken aback. “No, just thought you’d protest more. She’ll be riding with me.”

     “Shouldn’t we tie her up?” Astrid asked.

     “Once we get into the air, escaping shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

     Sunny felt a little apprehensive as she approached the Night Fury. He didn't look happy with his new cargo. “What about my glaive?” She asked.

     “I’ll take it.” Astrid said, picking it up off the floor.

     “Great. Let’s get a move on.” He walked to Toothless and slid his leg over the saddle. Sunny had just barely noticed that his footsteps sounded odd, musical even. Tap clank-squeak, tap clank-squeak, tap clank-squeak. His foot gave a solid ka-censored! as it connected to the mechanism that guided Toothless’ fake tail. She wondered how long it took to make all that stuff; the tail, the foot, the mechanism.

     Toothless glared at Mahelsonei. Apparently, all he could see was her helmet too. Not the look of fear on her face. “Come on.” Hiccup stretched out his hand. “It’s perfectly safe. Do you trust me?”

     “Excuse me?”

     “Do you trust me?”

     Sunny inhaled deeply. “Not really, no.” Hiccup smirked, his cheeks playing up at the corners of his mouth. He grabbed her forearm and hoisted her into the saddle. She was very careful not to crush the delicate egg in her arm. Toothless gave a mighty flap of his wings and zoomed through the cavern, completely taking Mahelsonei by surprise, yanking a brief yelp out of her lungs. She felt her stomach lurch and clench as the dragon swooped. Her heart was completely in her throat! She’d always thought riding a dragon would be like the zipline, but she was sorely mistaken. This was more like being strapped onto the bow of a ship in a hurricane! She almost dropped the egg in favor of siezing the shoulders of the boy in front of her. But something blocked her action. Something calmed her down. She took a deep breath, which was hard to do because of the wind. In this entire instant, they shot out of the cavern and into the sky. It was dawn when her ship had landed, and now it was bright midday.

 

     “Well, how do you like flying?”

     “I’ll like it better when we’re on the ground. How far is Berk?”

     “A few leagues. Make yourself comfortable, because it’ll be a while.”

     “Great.”

     “So tell me about yourself. Do you have family?”

     “Why are you asking me this?”

     “Oh, curiosity.”

     She hesitated. But only for a second. “I have a little brother, Erik. My Uncle Bjorn, he helps protects the village. My grandma is a healer.”

     “What about your parents?”

     “They were murdered by Outcasts five years ago on a raid on our home.”

     “Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

     “Osvald was sorry too. He said the prayer to send them to Valhalla at their funeral.”

     “Oh. My mom was killed in a dragon raid. I was just a baby.”

     “I’m sorry to hear that, Hiccup.” She paused. “Did you build all this by yourself?”

     “I built Toothless’ tail and saddle, but Gobber made my leg after the Red Death was killed.”

     “Who’s Gobber?”

     “The blacksmith on Berk. I’d been his apprentic since I was little. Well, little-er.”

     Sunny let herself laugh a little. They continued this back and forth. She found herself thinking of Hiccup and the rest of the Berkians less as enemies and more as real people. Gradually, even Toothless seemed a little less fearsome. Hiccup was starting to feel the same way; maybe not all Berserkers were bloodthirsty barbarians. It turned out that Hiccup and Sunny both liked art, and she had a sketchbook full of paintings she’d done of the landscape of Berserker Island, and the inside of her home.

     “I’d show it to you, but I’m holding a baby right now. Sorry.” She apologized.

     Hiccup was quiet again. “What’ll you do when that thing hatches?”

     This question shook her for a second. She hadn’t thought of that. “I... don’t know.”

 

     Mahelsonei did actually know what she would do with the Skrill. She just didn’t want to say it out loud. She wanted to protect it, care for it. After what its mother had done for her, she couldn’t dare do less. She couldn’t explain it. She didn’t know how to put it into words. She just... knew exactly what to do and how to do it. It was like she already knew everything about the Skrill egg she was holding.

     She would adopt it.

 

     “We know almost nothing about the Skrill, if it hatches on Berk we may not know how to take care of it.”

     “I’ll think of something. I’m not letting him go.”

     “Him?”

     “What, got a problem with that?”

     “Oh look, we’re here.” Hiccup dodged the question.

     Mahelsonei peered around Hiccup. “That’s Berk?”

     “Yep. This is Berk. It’s frostbite and fresh snow nine months of the year and colder than the gods should allow the other three. There’s fishing, games in the Great Hall, and the forest full of wild dragons on the back side of the island. The dragons are definitely the best part of living here on Berk. Life here is tough, unpredictable, and mean as a Nightmare with a toothache. The people here are even more so. You might like it here.”

     “Who said anything about me liking it? I’m a prisoner, remember?”

     “Oh, yeah. Right.” Hiccup blushed. “Doesn’t ‘long-term, restricted houseguest’ sound less... negative?” They landed in front of the Great Hall. Stoick was already there. He came right up to Hiccup and asked, “Where is the Skrill, son? Was Johann’s information wrong?”

     “Oh no, we found the Skrill all right. In fact we found a nest.”

     “Well, where is it?”

     Hiccup rubbed his neck. “Yeah, about that...”

     Sunny slid off Toothless, who growled at her. She boldly walked right up to Stoick, the glowing purple egg still safe in her hands. She felt a little trepidatious, but resolved to sound confident. “Hi. I’m your new long-term, restricted houseguest.”

9: Long-Term Restricted Houseguest

     “Hiccup, who is this?” Stoick regarded her cautiously. Well, everyone in the village was looking at her by now.

     “Umm, Dad, this is Mahelsonei, our prisoner. Mahelsonei, this is Stoick the Vast.”

They looked at each other coldly for a minute. They said nothing. “You’re a Berserker.”

     “Yes. Yes I am.”

     “What is that you’re holding?” Stoick reached out to grab it from her, but she shied away.

Hiccup stepped between them. “There was an accident, Dad. Dagur killed the Skrill, and two of her eggs. This is the only egg that survived.” Mahelsonei cleared her throat, reminding him that he forgot something. “And, evidently, she’s not going to let go of it.”

     “I see.” Stoick folded his arms. “And why isn’t she tied up, son?” Stoick was clearly on edge.

     Mahlesonei answered, “Have you ever tried to run or fight while you’re holding a baby? It doesn’t happen. Besides, if I even fidget, squeeze too hard, or if someone tries to take it, this egg will burst like a raindrop.” What she said was true. She delivered her facts bluntly, and her warning was crystal clear.

     Stoick glowered. “Fine. Gobber! Mulch! Bucket!” Three passing Viking men, all tough-looking, bearded, hook-handed Hooligans, stopped and as they walked by.

     “What is it Stoick? I’ve got a deliv’ry to make within the hour.” The one on the left spoke with a thick accent Mahelsonei couldn’t place, had a long blond mustache that came practically to his knees, and had two missing limbs: his left arm and right leg, both replaced with wicked-looking prosthetics.

     “Show our new ‘long-term houseguest’ to her room. Make sure she’s properly shackled, too.”

     “All right, Stoick. We’ll make sure this little lady makes no trouble.” The one with the bushy brown beard and a hook for a right hand grabbed her shoulder with his left. “Come along, now.”

     Hiccup watched as Mahelsonei was led away by the three men. Bucket reahed for the egg with his hook-hand, but the prisoner jerked it away before the brain-damaged sap could injure the delicate egg. Toothless chuffed and nudged Hiccup’s elbow. “I know, bud. Crazy Berserker with a Skrill egg in our jail. That’s not going to turn out well, is it?” Toothless made a low, warbling sound that sounded almost like ‘no’. “Didn’t think so.” He deadpanned.

 

     “Well, here y’are. Your new home for the foreseeable future.” Gobber shoved her inside. Not maliciously, but forcefully enough that she went inside. “You get yer meals twice a day. If you misb’have, it’s one meal a day. Those shackles are to be on your ankles until you’ve proven you won’ run off. The bucket in the corner is your relief. Guard checks on you periodically. If you disrespect visitors, ye’re in solitary for however long we feel like. Sound fair?”

     “Fine.”

     “Too bad, because this isn’ a— what?” Gobber did a double take.

     “It’s very kind of you, thank you. The prisoners we take aren’t treated nearly as well.”

     Gobber, Mulch, and Bucket just blinked, so she added, “I’m not saying I’m enjoying it. I’m just saying it’s better than I would have expected.”

     “Well... All righty then!” Mulch closed the heavy iron grate, and pulled a lever. An iron-bound log as thick and round as her uncle and brother standing next to each other rose from the floor, sealing her inside.

     “See you tomorrow!” Bucket called. "Wait, if she's a guest, why are we locking her up?" He asked Mulch as they walked away.

     When they were gone, she set to work. She moved carefully took off her fur-lined, studded leather jacket and arranged it neatly in the corner next to the cot into a vague donut shape, fur facing in. She carefully rested the egg in it, her gloved hands handling the egg gently. After she’d made sure it wouldn’t roll away, she removed her helmet and set it on the floor by the door. She took deep breaths in, stretching her arms. It felt good to have that thing off. She wiped her face off on the long sleeves of her shirt, and sat down on her cot. She undid her messy braid and finger combed it until the tangles were out. Her gloves made this hard, but she kept them on. As she redid it, she looked at her—no, the Skrill’s—egg. How did she know the dragon inside was a male? There was no logical way of knowing what it was while it was still unborn. Was there? What in the name of Odin did that Skrill do to her when it looked at her? When it touched her?

     She shoved the thought out of her mind. She had done nothing her. The only reason she was doing this was because Dagur had gotten carried away, and she’d gotten carried away trying to stop him. Now she’d been literally carried away. And she’d probably stay where she was for a long, long time.

     She finished her braid and tied it again with her hair string. She shed her outer-skirt of studded leather and peeled off her boots. She was left in her wool socks, leather gloves, her wool skirt, and her top. Shaking out the blanket, she found a mouse and a couple spiders. Obviously, this cell hadn’t been used in a long time. The startled little rodent was clearly quite unhappy that she’d upset its nest, but didn’t stick around to fight her for it. It hadn’t been the first nest she’d upset today.

     Flying had taken a long time. Now, it was about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. But Mahelsonei’s body told her that it was much later than that and she needed to sleep. So, she slipped into the covers and fell asleep. She had bad dreams. Dreams of a demon with mismatched horns and a scar across its left eye, slashing through fields of children with its sharp claws. As it laughed and sang and the children wailed. In the sky, a spiky dragon dove in and out of storm clouds

10: Visiting Hours

     Hiccup readjusted his grip on the basket as Toothless flew to the jail.  The jail was on the east side of the village, far from the Academy and the houses, but close enough that if it was to be attacked in a rescue attempt, the response would be abrupt and brutal. The walls were solid stone, and the doors were heavy iron grates that could only be opened by releasing the giant logs that blocked the doors. They used a similar mechanism to keep dragons in their cages, back when the Academy was the Killing Arena. It had been two days since Mahelsonei had been captured, and nothing had happened. She hadn’t complained, which was nice. But no one had come to rescue her, which was disconcerting.

     They landed in front of the jail, and as Hiccup disconnected his leg and swung off, he was greeted by Bucket. He waved his hook-hand. “Hi, Hiccup!”

     “Hi, Bucket.” Hiccup stopped for a second. “Are those doors open?” The the cell doors swung wide open, the locking log sunk into the floor.

     “Yep. The girl said she had to use the outhouse, and I told her she could if she didn’t take too long.”

     “Oh man, this is bad!”

     “She said it was an emergency, and if she didn’t leave soon something bad would happen. Did I do something wrong?”

     “You let her escape!” Hiccup dropped the basket. “Come on, Toothless, we gotta find her.” The dragon burbled as if to say, ‘I told you we shouldn’t have trusted her’.

Bucket’s face fell. “No good, no good, no good!” He whacked his bucket with his hook.

     “Hey, Bucket. We’re back!”

     The man, boy, and dragon, whipped around and saw the Berserker strolling towards them, with the egg in one arm and the other with loosely gripping the helmet by a horn. Hiccup was slightly shocked that Mahelsonei was actually kind of pretty. He half-expected her to look something like a crazed monster.

     “Oh. Hi, Hiccup.” She nodded at the one-legged teenager. “I wasn’t expecting you to visit.”

     “What are you doing out of your cell!” It was more a statement than a question.

     “Oh come on, you expect me to take care of business in a bucket? With a person watching?”

     "What’s wrong with buckets? I like buckets.” Bucket gripped his hook bashfully.

     “Nothing’s wrong with them. Unless I’m expected to use them as a toilet. Haven’t you ever had a prisoner who was a lady?” She scolded.

     “Yeah, once.” Hiccup answered.

     “Did she have to go in a bucket?”

     “No, but—”

     "Then neither should I. It’s not the bucket that bothers me as much as the lack of privacy. A curtain would be nice. Just so I can have a scrap of dignity.”

     “Fine, I’ll talk to my dad about it.” Hiccup conceded reluctantly.

     “Please do.”

     “Speaking of dignity, those clothes of yours are probably really gross by now. We brought you an extra set.” He kicked the basket over to her. Inside was a wool skirt, with a fur outer-skirt. There was also a pink, short-sleeved shirt made out of woven strands of wool with a matching fur half-vest. There was a pair of leggings as well.

     She thanked him, and picked them up carefully. They smelled strange. They smelled like pine trees, seawater, and the dry, sour-sweet smell of dragons. They smelled distinctively Berk-ish. Not at all like the dusty, rainwater smell of Berserker Island. She went back into her cell and the doors shut behind her, the log rising out of the floor to seal her in.  “Well, now we’ll give you some privacy so you can change.” Hiccup gestured for Bucket to follow him, and all three—no, the two of them left. The dragon didn’t count as a person. Did it?

 

     When she saw Toothless’ mismatched tail slide away, she walked up to the grate, and peered down the hall left and right. When she was sure that no one was watching, she undressed and put on the unfamiliar garments. They fit her well enough, but they didn’t fit per se. They felt so foreign and strange to her. But, she accepted it any way. She tightened the glove on her left hand. She couldn’t believe they hadn’t noticed her gloves yet. She hoped to Odin that they would never notice. That they would never ask her about why she never took off her gloves. She put the thought out of her mind. They would never know. They would just assume it was a personality quirk, like a phobia of dirt.

     She hated doing it. But she had to do it to keep them clean. She slid off the glove on her right hand, and before she took off her left, she double-checked to make sure no one was coming. She sat down, facing the corner where the Skrill egg lay nestled in her wadded-up jacket, and slid off her left glove revealing what was underneath.

     Wooden fingers. The wooden attachments to her pinky, ring finger, and middle finger fastened to her hand by thin leather straps looped through holes in a flat board on the ball of her palm and another on the back of her hand. She undid the straps on the sides of the boards and slid off the prosthetic. Her hand was still as ugly as ever. The tip of her pinky was gone, and her middle and ring fingers ended at the second knuckle. Ugly pink scars bloomed from the tips down the stumps, to the back of her hand like a web. She flexed them experimentally. Her first finger was still a little stiff, but the other fingers bent just fine. What was left of them, anyway.

     She grabbed the drinking water pitcher and rinsed off her stumps. She picked her dirty shirt off the ground, rubbing them clean. She did the same for the sockets of her wooden fingers. She didn’t have any oil to protect the wood from splitting. That was gone with the contents of her bag, locked up in Stoick’s home. So she just replaced them onto her hand, redoing the leather thongs with her right fingers and teeth. She slipped the glove back on, making a fist. Her middle two fingers still poked out ever-so-slightly at an awkward and unnatural looking pose. It was why she only ever punched with her right hand.

     She quickly slid the other glove back on her right hand when she heard Hiccup’s step-clank, step-clank, step-clank. “Hey, if you’re done we’ll take those old clothes and get them washed for you.” She stood up and hurriedly passed them to the boy, tightening her gloves after he took the skirt and shirt from between the bars. “Thank you.” He said.

     “No problem, Hiccup. It was very kind of you to get me new clothes. I ought to thank you.”

     Hiccup turned around as if to leave, but he stopped. “Mahelsonei, I want to ask you something.”

     “What?”

     “Why did you save that egg? You had every reason to let Dagur destroy it and take the mother Skrill.”

She bit her lip. She considered lying to him, but something in his eyes pulled the truth out of her. “I don’t like seeing children hurt. I don’t care if it’s a lamb, or a human, or even a dragon. I will never hurt a child. And...” She choked up. “There was something in the way she looked at me. I can’t explain it, but I just knew what she was thinking. She wanted me to help her, to save her nest, and when she died I knew she wanted me to take her egg.” She turned around, willing the tears away, banishing them back to her heart. She was a prisoner here. Why did he care?

     Hiccup just stood there, holding the basket of dirty clothes, looking at her like she'd grown a tail. She had cared about that dragon. But, weren't Berserkers supposed to be bloodthirsty nutcases? No Berserker he'd ever met cared about dragons enough to look one in the eye without hatred or apathy.

He wished he could reply to what she said. Instead, he just muttered an apology and stepped out of the building like he was walking on broken glass. Toothless bounded over to him in his odd, bounding gait that looked graceful, scary, but comical at the same time. He crooned as he nudged Hiccup affectionately, just as he stepped into a pile of snow. The one-legged viking lost his balance for a second, and fell over with a somewhat girly yelp as the basket flew into the air! Crunch! The basket broke, and Mahelsonei's clothes tumbled out. Her shirt had landed on his head, a sleeve covering one half of his face. Irritated, he pulled it off his head, and a piece of paper slipped out. It drifted like a little leaf to the ground. He picked it up, and turned it around. It was a painting.

     A small one, granted, but it was done beautifully. The artist had used only blues and greens, but it looked real. It was a picture of four people, standing against a white background. An old woman with long white hair, braided to her knees, leaning on a staff with a crook and various bangles and strings. A man with a short-cropped beard and shoulder-length hair carrying a small boy on his shoulders, both wearing horned helmets. The boy and the man looked like they were having fun, the boy's arms in the air and a joyous expression on his face. Standing between them, her gloved hands proudly on her hips and her chin high, was a young lady with hair almost as long as the old woman, brought across her shoulder displaying the intricate, four-strand braid. She looked happy. She wore no Berserker helm that hid her whole face, or studded leather armor. She wore a simple long-sleeved shirt and wool skirt. She looked... human. Not like the faceless warriors that had swarmed and threatened Berk time and again.

     He pocketed the picture absentmindedly and mounted Toothless. The dragon picked up the mangled basket with his paws and they flew away.