"Stop!"
The roar swept over the beach, carrying with it an invisible wave of energy. Dragons stilled as it it passed, stopping mid flight. Stormfly slowed her wingbeats, gliding between flaps.
On her back, Astrid sat up.
"What just happened?"
The Nadder trilled softly, uncertain. All around them, the flock had halted its assault, the dragons hovering in place.
The silence was almost more disturbing than the clash and clamour of battle.
Astrid gasped. "Stormfly, Look!"
She looked up. "Trinity's Fire...!"
Above them shone an aquamarine star in the shape of a Night Fury.
Realisation suddenly struck her; She couldn't feel the crushing pressure of the Queen's will against her power; in its place she felt a buoying energy, supporting her, strengthening her defences.
Stormfly felt a rush of emotion as understanding dawned on her.
The Flock woke up.
As one, they blinked and looked around, as if seeing where they were for the first time. A thousand grunts of confusion and growls of anguish broke the silence.
"Get ready!" A Viking shouted. "Stand together!"
From within the shadows of the nest, a thunderous roar rang out.
Invaders! They assault your nest! Threaten your Queen! Drive them back into the sea!
Stormfly wasn't sure how, but she felt Astrid cringe on her back; as if she could almost hear the Queen's words.
A handful of dragons dove towards the massed Vikings. Most stayed where they were, casting agitated looks at each other; they had heard, but for the first time in their lives they weren't compelled to obey.
Stormfly's kin screamed as the Berkians repelled the scattered, uncoordinated assault. Anger spread through the flock, replacing the confusion.
They need a leader, Stormfly realised. The flock was free, but without someone to follow, they would willingly go back to the only master most of them had ever known. She looked up. The light faded from Hiccup's body, and he dropped several body-lengths straight down before he caught himself.
She scanned the sky for the other Night Fury. She found her gliding over the edge of the battle.
Come on, Stormfly prayed. Claim your birthright. Lead us.
She remained mute as, with every heartbeat, more of the flock fell back to the Queen.
"Stormfly..." Astrid breathed, uneasy.
The Nadder tore her gaze from the black silhouette. She looked at the dragons around her, their eyes crying out for leadership.
She took a deep breath.
"Dragons of the north!" she bellowed. "Look to the sky!
"The Night Furies have returned!"
She flapped hard, rising above the flock.
"Slavery was not always the way of our kind! The Queen tried to hide it, but look inside yourselves, you remember! There was a time when Alphas ruled with respect, not fear! That time can live again, but only if you fight for it!
"Yilbegän's Judgement has come for the Queen! So Fight! Fight for a true Alpha! For freedom; for justice;
"For your future!"
Stormfly roared, exhaling a column of brilliant white snapped her wings to her sides and dove, smashing talons-first into the flank of a Nightmare that swept towards the Vikings below.
Above her, the flock exploded in a deafening roar.
A thousand roars of pain and fury echoed off the rocks beneath Hiccup. The Queen bellowed in response, more dragons swarming out of the breach. The newly freed fell on their former nest-mates. The flock disintegrated into a writhing mass of teeth and claws.
The air reverberated with the cries of injured and dying dragons.
Hiccup hung there, reeling from his shout and the horror unfolding below. The moment the word had left his jaws a tidal-wave of sensation - images, scents, sounds, pain - washed over mind shattered; the pieces scattered over the , a moment of blackness, and he was falling head-first towards the beach.
Is that how it is for the Queen? He wondered. How does she handle it?
A draconic screech tore through his thoughts. Two Nightmares collided in mid-air, snapping and clawing at each other. The Vikings scrambled out of the way as the pair hit the ground and continued to fight, flipping over and over; a deadly whirlwind of teeth and claws, flaming bodies and lashing tails.
He shook himself. The battle wasn't over yet; he had a promise to keep.
He folded his wings. The dragons heard his diving whistle and cleared a path. He focused on the wrestling Nightmares. Like one always recognised the face of their family, he knew instinctively which dragon was free. The Nightmares grew closer, rolling over and over in their struggle.
Now!
They flipped once more. His shot struck one of them square in the back. Hiccup snapped open his wings.
The remaining nightmare shoved off the body of his kin and stood. "Thank you, my Alpha!"
Hiccup flexed the muscles along his spine, whipping around in a quick circle. For a moment he thought he'd been transported back to the battle of Dökkhöfn. Serpentine shadows darkened the sky, flitting overhead faster than the eye could follow. Gouts of fire lit the clouds, and stray Gronckle shots fell to earth like burning lightning. In places, the fighting was so thick that draconic blood fell like rain.
Hiccup felt sick. What have I done?
"This isn't my fault." He growled. "This is all the Queen."
Stormfly rushed past, a radiant blue streak. "Up!" she shouted. "Drive them away from the Vikings!"
Hiccup tilted his head back and fired a shot into the underside of one of the Queen's dragons. He flapped hard, darting through the gap he'd created. He rose above the chaos, casting about for Muninn; Where was she?
Below him, the dragons tore each other apart, his village trapped beneath them. If this went on much longer, all their efforts, all this sacrifice, would be for naught. He grit his teeth.
An Alpha protects them all.
He drove his wings downwards, looping up and over into a dive.
He fell at a shallow angle, screeching over the breadth of the battle. He opened his jaws, air rushing down his throat to fuel his fire. Dragons on both sides heard his rising whistle and scattered.
But they weren't his target.
A brilliant bolt of light streaked from his maw and struck the side of the nest. The whole mountain reverberated with a thunderous blast.
Hiccup opened his wings with a jerk. Pain lanced down his shoulders as the wind tried to tug them from their sockets.
"Stop this!" He roared. "If you truly protect your flock, release them! Stop this pointless fighting!"
He'd barely cleared the nest's peak when a low rumble shook the island
You steal my flock, dare to challenge ME, and now you demand my surrender?!
An almighty crash rocked the mountain. Boulders the size of houses tumbled down the Nest's sides.
Under my guidance, we have seen the most prosperous seasons since your kind first stood on two legs!
The nest shook again. Cracks spiderwebbed out from the breach.
No! I will crush you and your people, just like the Night Furies!
For a moment, the only sound was the groaning of tortured rock.
Then, with a final heave, the wall of the nest exploded.
Muninn's wings froze.
She was free.
Bands of ice tightened around her chest. Her heart beat frantically and she gasped desperately for air, but none of it seemed to reach her lungs.
You belong to me now, little one...
No, no, no, no, she thought. This wasn't happening. Not now.
But She was free. She breathed in and exhaled a great jet of fire. Hot air fled the flames, pushing Muninn upwards. Below, dragons - both free and of the Flock - screamed as they were incinerated.
She pressed herself harder against the rock ledge, frantically searching for somewhere, anywhere to hide. Every surface she saw was lit by the same blood-red light. The monster drew closer, looming over her.
"No," she whimpered. "That's not real." She was a Night Fury, an Alpha. It was her born duty to protect the dragons of the North.
But she couldn't move.
Because She was free.
Muninn could only watch as She reared up, drawing in a great gulp of air. She braced herself for more screams.
Fire blossomed on the back of Her skull.
Four dragons broke from the fighting and flew towards Her, the vikings on their backs shouting taunts at the Red Death.
What are they doing? Muninn thought. Even with Hiccup's protection, getting that close to Her was dangerous.
She staggered forwards, shaking rocks loose from the nest with every thundering step. She swung her head around to snap at the offending dragons. She was too slow and as She turned, another of the four - a Nadder - dove at Her neck, raking Her hide with a claw of white fire.
She bellowed in pain. Dragons abandoned their fighting and scattered. Shouts rose up from the Vikings below as they retreated, faced with the monster at the heart of the nest.
Muninn's breath caught in her throat. They were distracting Her.
No, no, no. It wasn't right. She was the last Night Fury; she shouldn't be frozen with fear while four ordinary dragons gave their lives to save the rest. But -
I am your Queen, your Alpha. You belong to me.
Who am I?
She screamed internally, but her throat uttered the words regardless.
She couldn't move.
She could only watch as Her patience ran out.
Away! She commanded.
Three of the dragons staggered mid-air, then turned tail and fled, despite their riders' protests. Only one, the Nadder, remained. She flipped over and dove away a moment too late.
Her jaws yawned open, drawing in a great torrent of air. The Nadder flapped with all her might, but slowly her momentum ran out. Wing-length by wing-length she slipped backwards towards the waiting maw.
She couldn't-
With a shrill whistle, a black blur fell from the heavens.
Hiccup's shot struck Her jaw. The blast threw the Nadder clear, but also tore the human from her back.
"Astrid!" The Nadder screamed in voice of pure agony. "NO!"
Muninn had heard that same scream before. Dozens and dozens of times, as she tore a Fury's Partner from them; one falling to earth, a burnt wreck, the other wailing and roaring in grief and rage. Before, she could only listen to the cries and hope the other's end was swift.
Not this time.
She folded her wings.
For too long, her diving shriek had been only a portent of doom. Now though, it would be as those legendary Furies her sire had spoken of; a sound of hope. She focused on the tiny, plummeting speck below. The human tumbled head over heel, her flailing limbs catching the air just enough that Muninn gained on her.
The ground rushed up to meet them both.
She spread her wings. Her flight surfaces strained as she fought to raise her muzzle towards the horizon.
Then, she was out of the dive, the beach a blur beneath her.
The roar of the wind faded and she heard a second whistle. Hiccup pulled out of his stoop beside her.
"Did you get her?" He asked, breathless.
Muninn looked down between her forelegs. The Viking hung beneath her, dangling by her ankle from one of her forepaws. The human twisted her torso and looked back at her, grinning madly.
The girl was probably delirious with shock and the sudden blood-rush to the head, but Muninn couldn't help it; she smiled toothlessly back at her. "Hold on."
She swung the little Viking forwards then let go of her leg. Muninn caught her by the shoulders as she spun upright, then flared her wings, slowing down and dropping the human onto her feet.
Astrid managed a single syllable of encouragement before a frantic Nadder nuzzled her with enough force to wind her.
Muninn sped over the battlefield. They flew at the height of Her knees, the rest of Her bulk towering over them like a great, living cliff. She felt familiar claws of ice clutching at her.
She was free. She who had owned her, controlled her every move; She who had forced her to murder her own kind.
Her wing muscles stiffened.
"No," she whispered. "Don't think about it. You're protecting the others. You can do that."
She kept flapping. "Hiccup!" she called. "What do we do?"
He looked at Her, eyes scrutinising Her form as Hertitanic jaws crunched straight through a catapult like a bundle of twigs.
"She has wings!" he exclaimed. "Let's see if she can use them!" He angled his tail and shot upwards.
"Protecting the others," she repeated, following him towards the clouds.
"We cannae help any more! Let's go!"
Stoick stood, surrounded by the bodies of a dozen dragons, gazing up at the monster that had emerged from the nest. He recalled his father's speech about what a Viking could do; 'crush mountains, level forests, tame seas!'
How foolish that sounded now.
They called the Night Fury the 'offspring of Lightning and Death itself' but the Queen truly was a beast out of the Eddas - some bastard spawn of Níðhögg or Jörmungand, he was sure.
"Stoick! Come on!" Gobber grabbed at his tunic, trying to pull him away.
Stoick batted his old friend's hand away. "Gobber, look."
The Queen's first blast of fire had stretched from the walls of the nest all the way to the shoreline; Stoick knew she could annihilate all that remained of Berk in a single breath. Yet she was prevented from doing so by five young Vikings on the backs of their mortal enemies.
In all his years, Stoick had never seen anything so brave. The four adult dragons were like flies on a Yak, buzzing around the Queen's head and darting in to flame at her when she turned to snap at the others.
The Queen roared, the sound striking Stoick with tangible force. The dragons fled. Astrid's Nadder hesitated a moment behind the others. The Queen turned towards her; monstrous jaws opening, her titanic lungs drawing in such a torrent of air that the Nadder was physically sucked towards her.
Deafened by her roar, Stoick saw only a brief blur before blue light flashed on the Queen's jaw, and Nadder and Rider were torn apart. Stoick's breath caught. The Nadder and the Fury both dove to catch Astrid, but they were too far away; they wouldn't reach her in time.
Out of nowhere, a second black shape fell from the heavens, snatching Astrid out of the air moments before they smashed into the ground.
Gobber tugged at his tunic more insistently.
You can't help them. He mouthed.
Stoick exhaled explosively. He was right. Reluctantly, he allowed the smith to lead him away, towards the rest of the warriors. The fate of Berk now lay in the hands of the dragons.
He looked back over his shoulder in time to see two dark specks speeding upwards.
Gods be with you, my son.
Hiccup strove for altitude, Auric light blazing within. Muninn climbed alongside him, her own light shining from her spines. The dark, smoke-laden clouds formed an almost solid ceiling that rapidly rushed towards them. A hundred yards. Fifty.
Ten.
Here goes nothing.
"Now!" They flipped over.
Below, the beach was clear. The Vikings retreated to the west and the dragons scattered into the fog bank. He fixed his gaze on the Queen, narrowing his eyes against the wind as they began to fall.
His folded wings buzzed, giving voice to his diving shriek. He heard that familiar note both from within - vibrating through his bones and reverberating in his skull - and from without as Muninn fell beside him.
He opened his jaws. He felt a moment of cold as icy northern air rushed in, then heat as his fire sparked. Fueled by air rushing down his throat, the flames burned ever hotter. The shriek was almost deafening now, drowning out even the roaring wind.
The Queen turned to look at them, but it was too late. Night Furies never missed.
The moment before he fired, Hiccup flared his Auric light and focused it inwards, into his fire-source.
When his shot left his maw it shone a dazzling blue-white.
Their bolts detonated simultaneously. The Queen staggered, then ponderously collapsed onto her side. Flaming mushroom-clouds blossomed above her.
Hiccup and Muninn forced open their wings, covering the length of the beach in the blink of an eye.
"Do you think that did it?" he asked as they came about.
A shadow fell over them as a great wing-sail stretched towards the sky. The trailing edge was tattered from centuries of disuse. Dead scales and pieces of dirt were shaken loose as the Queen lumbered to her feet, stretching her wings to their full extent.
The pressure spiked painfully in Hiccup's ears as she drove her wings downwards. He stared, dumbstruck as she slowly rose into the air. They whipped past her nose and shot upwards
"Well, she can fly."
"Now what!?" Muninn's voice trembled with fear.
Hiccup shook himself. Think! Stormfly, and his own experience, had taught him that their strongest asset was their flight; he knew they needed to get the Queen into the air, but what next? He scanned their surroundings.
The passage of so many wings had diffused the fog bank; the shadows of the first row of sea stacks loomed in the mist. "I have an idea! Follow me!" He flapped hard, accelerating towards the stone pillars.
Close to the nest, the stacks were widely spaced. It took only a slight twitch of his tail to dodge the grey monolith, while the Queen's massive wingspan forced her to swing wide.
"I swear," he growled, weaving around the next pillar. "If I never see another sea stack-"
CRASH! A blast of air rocked Hiccup's flight. He glanced behind. The Queen's maw was mere feet from his tail-fins. She was fast for her size!
Heart suddenly pounding in his ears, he reached for his light and shot forwards, overtaking Muninn. Ahead, a vein of softer rock had been exposed to the elements and had weathered away, leaving behind a narrow archway. He folded his wings, angling towards the gap.
He heard a low woosh as he passed through the gap, then a short whistle as Muninn followed.
He spread his wings as soon as he was clear. He risked another look back. The Queen showed no sign of slowing. Surely she wouldn't-
The Queen ploughed head-first into the archway. The rock shattered under the impact, barely impeding her flight. Her jaws opened. Sickly green gas pooled at the back of her throat.
"Here it comes!" Hiccup warned. "Look out!"
They split up. Muninn broke left. He dove right.
A moment later, a jet of flame blazed through the space between them. Hiccup felt the blistering heat even through his scales. The flames washed up against the sides of another pillar, leaving the stone glowing red-hot.
Hiccup and Muninn regrouped on the other side of the stack, just as the Queen smashed through it.
"Well, that didn't work!" he shouted over the crashing rocks. "Any ideas?"
Muninn's eyes were wide with fear; she was barely holding together.
Hiccup's mind whirled. Outflying the Queen alone wasn't going to be enough. He ran through everything he knew about their species; Night Fury. Speed unknown. Size unknown. The unholy offspring of Lightning and Death itself. Never steals food. Never shows itself.
"That's it!"
He looked to the panic-stricken Night Fury flying alongside him.
"Muninn!" He called. "We can get through this, but I need you to stay with me, okay?"
"O-okay!"
Another sea stack rushed towards them. They split on either side of it, the Queen ramming straight through behind them.
"Now, time to disappear!" He raised his tail and sped upwards. With a single wingbeat he was clear of the sea-stack maze. He looked to his side. A second Night Fury climbed with him. "That's it Muninn! Come on!"
Below, the Queen roared and gave chase. Hiccup forced his wings to beat faster, focusing on the soot-stained sheet above. Until they reached the cover of the clouds, they were exposed and vulnerable.
He heard a rush of air from below.
They split apart, spiraling around each other as flames roared upwards. The Queen gained speed, closing the gap between them. Her maw yawned open.
Then they were surrounded by dense grey cloud. The Queen vanished from view. Hiccup heard her jaws snap closed on empty air. He stilled his wings, gliding silently as they swung around in a wide arc.
Hiccup squinted; he could hear the heavy thump-thump of the Queen's wings all around him, but he couldn't see anything through the thick soup of smoke and fog. Remembering his time under the Queen's control, he closed his eyes. He contorted the muscles in his throat and let out that strange, soundless roar.
Colourless light swam behind his eyes.
The strange vision was dominated by a bright shape off his right wing, behind it he could make out the dim, indistinct outlines of the beach and sea stacks. The shape was distorted - the wings blurred into formless blobs of light - but it was unmistakably the Queen.
His eyes opened. He dove towards the shape, Muninn right behind him. Their folded fins buzzed. Thick grey mist rushed over his muzzle.
The air cleared. Hiccup fired. Two flashes of blue light lit the clouds, overlapping peals of thunder echoing off the mountain below. The Queen roared as Hiccup whistled over her head.
He looked back just before they left the pocket of air cleared by her wings. A wave of fear and dread crashed over him, like he'd just plunged into the icy waters below.
The Queen's hide was scorched black where their shots impacted, but her scales were unbroken.
Muninn fought to keep her wings from trembling. She shouldn't be here. She couldn't be here, because that meant She was-
No. Focus on Hiccup, he needs you.
She fixed her gaze on the male in front of her, waiting for him to flip over and lead them into another dive.
He kept gliding straight ahead, further away from Her.
"Hiccup!" she whispered urgently.
He looked back at her, eyes wide with fear. "Our shots aren't breaking through her hide! What do we do?!"
"No..." Muninn breathed.
She was free.
She was unstoppable.
Dark memories burst forth from the recesses of her mind.
The last Night Fury circled far above the mountain, so high that even to the dragons swirling around the peak she would appear no larger than a bird. It was so bitterly cold that she couldn't feel the tips of her outstretched wings. The numbness suited her. Up here, where her lungs strained to keep her conscious in the thin air, the screams were quieter.
It was easier to forget what she had lost.
Her eyes forced her to watch the dragons below. She knew she was not to participate in what was to come; her role was only to watch for any survivors of her kind.
Below, a flock of Gronckles and other stone-eaters slowly buzzed forwards. They came into a hover and opened their jaws, unleashing a thunderous barrage of half-molten rocks onto the mountainside.
Stone withered under the assault. Impact after impact carved great chunks out of the mountain. Huge boulders crashed down the slope. Below the tree-line, the foothills were consumed in a vast blaze.
The mountain exploded. Rocks flew outwards, arcing higher than the Flock before falling to the snow-covered ground. In their wake followed the King of the nest, a magnificent Red Death, older and bigger than the Queen, his spines blazing a brilliant crimson in the bright winter sun.
The King roared. What is the meaning of this?! His voice rang clear in her mind even at her altitude. You enslave my flock, assault my nest, Yilbegän's children will kill you for this!
The Queen's reply came as one voice from the throats of her flock. "The Night Furies are dead. Your flock is mine now, brother."
No... The King stopped, hovering in place before the flock. NO!
He roared, exhaling a brilliant jet of fire. He beat his wings and surged forwards, the smoke from his breath curling around him. The flock scattered before the King's rage.
The last Night Fury couldn't help but feel a surge of hope. This was a Red Death, inheritor of Koyash's fire, in his prime. The King was a force of nature; a hurricane of righteous fury.
Then the Queen returned fire.
Flames leapt simultaneously from the jaws of a thousand dragons, streaking towards the King. The last Night Fury lost sight of him almost immediately, the great Red Death consumed in a cloud of smoke, lit from within by flash after flash.
Still, she could hear the King, his bellows of pain and rage audible over the ceaseless rumble of explosions.
The last Night Fury held onto her hope; Alphas did not die easily.
A full minute passed, the flock never letting up their assault. A jet of fire burst forth from the growing cloud of smoke, but the flock was so scattered that it only caught a pawful of dragons. Another minute passed. More spurts of fire followed the first, but the flock kept up the barrage, even as the dragons beside them fell from the sky in blazing meteors.
A third minute slipped agonisingly by, the last Night Fury unable to look away. The King's cries became more and more pained and desperate. His wings - when she glimpsed them through the smoke - grew increasingly tattered.
Eventually they could support him no more.
The King fell. Smoke trailed from bloody rents in his hide. His once proud red markings were smothered beneath a layer of char.
"Muninn!" he roared.
The King struck the mountainside. His remaining fire-gas exploded with a thunderous blast that echoed off the surrounding peaks. A column of thick black smoke, heavy with the stench of burnt flesh rose up, engulfing her.
"Muninn!" Hiccup shouted.
She blinked. The scent of burning vanished from her nostrils. She was no longer surrounded by heavy, black smoke, but dark grey storm clouds. She heard air rushing behind her.
She folded her wings. Flames roared less than a wing-length overhead. She gritted her teeth, feeling her scales crack and skin blister beneath the ferocious heat.
"Muninn!" Hiccup called again. "That was too close! Are you okay?"
"The wings!" she gasped.
"What?!"
"We need to aim for her wings! It's the only way to stop her!"
Hiccup nodded. "Okay. On three. One... two...
"Three!"
They turned sharply, arching up and over Her.
You can do this.
They fell, piercing through the clouds. She desperately swung Her head from side to side, but they were too small and too fast for Her eyes. They fired. Bolts of blue light streaked through the clouds, striking Her wings just beyond the shoulders.
She roared and spun to face the direction they'd come from. At the same moment they opened their wings. They shot over Her tail, then split apart. Hiccup pulled away to the left, while Muninn banked hard in the opposite direction, hugging the edge of the clouds
Halfway through the turn, Muninn heard Hiccup's diving screech. She pulled in her wings, tightening her turn and plummeting back towards Her. As soon as the clouds parted she unleashed her fire. Their shots struck the centre of her wings.
She cried out in pain. Muninn heard a whisper of wind as Hiccup sped past her in the other direction.
She was ready for them on the third strike. As Muninn looped over and dove again, She roared in blind fury, exhaling a jet of flame. She whipped Her head from side to side, rolling over and over. Fire blasted outwards in every direction.
The clouds around her lit orange. "Muninn!" Hiccup screamed. "Look out!"
Muninn snapped her wings open, flapping hard. The glow behind her grew brighter. Panic and Auric light surged within her. She sped forwards. She felt the fierce heat against her scales. At the last moment, she folded one wing and rolled.
Too late.
She screamed. A bolt of agony arced down her spine.
Red light. A monster towering over her.
"No!" she gasped, her lungs pumping air through her jaws faster than her thundering heartbeat.
Focus on the pain. That was real.
She twisted as she fell. Her tail streamed out above her. Green light shimmered over the scorched remains of her left fin, trying to repair the burnt flesh. Given time, it would heal.
But time was the one thing they didn't have.
Already she could feel her reserves of Auric power dwindling, her wound sucking it away. Freeing the flock must have drained Hiccup too; they both had to be left with mere sparks.
And when the power ran out, they would be Hers again.
Or She would simply kill them.
Muninn flipped over and pulled out of her tumble, labouring back up towards Her. She fought for every body-length climbed, struggling against the pain in her tail and the uneven airflow over her fins.
She heard another whistle above her, and a flash of blue lit the clouds, momentarily illuminating Her silhouette
It wasn't enough. Their light would run out before they made Her fall. The familiar fear clutched at her chest. It was over. Unless they found some way to tear open the holes in Her wings now...
Muninn knew what she had to do.
Part of her recoiled from the idea; she felt the fear trying to lock her wings straight.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the screams that haunted her sleep; the last cries of hundreds of dragons that had died by her fires - by Her will. She had been weak, incapable of resisting, unable to save them. But she hadn't forgotten them.
She opened her eyes.
Her wing swept down in front of her. Muninn dove. She cracked open her jaws. Her fire flared within her. She released a bolt of blue light that streaked ahead of her, blasting a hole in the titan's membrane.
Muninn kept her wings pressed tightly to her sides, falling through the rent in Her wing. She spread her wings, stalling just in front of Her nose. "Is that the best you can do?!" she taunted.
"Muninn!" Hiccup cried. "What are you- NO!"
Her jaws began to part. Muninn flipped over, pointing her nose towards the ground. The Red Death's maw snapped shut a heartbeat later. "Come on!" she roared. "Chase me!"
Muninn glanced back as She slowly tipped over, following her into the stoop. The wind rushed over her fins ever faster. Her damaged tail fin was in agony, her abused flight muscles burned. Still, she fought to hold the dive.
Just a bit longer, she thought. Have to make this work.
A deafening roar rang in her ears.
You think you can defy me! I am your Alpha! Your Queen! You belong to me!
Her jaws slammed shut less than a wing-length behind her.
Hold on Muninn. You can do this.
The clouds parted, the beach rushed up to meet them. Behind her, air rushed into a sudden void.
"NO!" She roared. "You are not my Queen!"
She flipped over, throwing out her wings. Her maw blotted out the sky. Fire-gas pooled at the back of Her throat.
The last Night Fury breathed in sharply.
Air rushed between her jaws, down her throat, to her fire-source. Flames blossomed at her core.
For so long, she had clung to the memory of her family flying over the vast ice sheets of their home, brilliant Aurlós shining above them. Now, that light burned within her. She drew on every last spark of power she had left, focusing it into her fire. This is for my parents, she thought.
She exhaled.
Her teeth retracted instinctively as radiant, emerald fire leapt between them. Her shot flew straight and true, streaking upwards, igniting the gases at the back of Her throat.
Her eyes widened. Flames spewed uncontrollably from her maw. Panicked, She spread Her wings.
A terrible ripping sound filled the air, as the weight of the wind forced the holes in Her wings wider.
Muninn tore her gaze away. Precious seconds passed as she fought to right herself; to face towards the ground. She was too low. Too fast. Without the Aür, she could barely move her injured tailfin.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she forced her nose up until, finally, her wings caught the air. The wind hit her like a solid object, spinning her around. She cried out, feeling something in her chest tear under the strain.
Her head struck the ground and detonated, the blastwave throwing Muninn upwards while Her upper body still fell ponderously towards her. Every flap felt like driving claws into the Night Fury's chest, but she forced her wings to move. Her vision swam as she darted between Her spines, fleeing the ravenous flames. For a moment she was back in the sea-stacks chasing Hiccup. Or was it Stormfly?
The last spine rushed past and was devoured by the explosion. For a single, glorious heartbeat, she was free.
Then a shadow fell over her.
She looked up. The former Queen's club-tail loomed ahead. Her flight muscles cramped solid, wingtips trembling. Utterly spent, she could do nothing to avoid it.
It's what they deserve, she thought, let the old world die completely.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the impact.
It's over. They'll finally be free.
Ash fell thick as the worst of winter's blizzards. Acrid smoke stung Stoick's eyes. Behind him, voices called out, telling him it wasn't safe. Stoick ignored them, pushing further into the miasma.
"Hiccup!" He shouted, noxious fumes burning the back of his throat.
He passed flickering patches of light in the murk - chunks of the Queen still ablaze after the explosion.
"Hiccup!" He called again. "Son!"
A lonely breeze washed over the desolate battlefield. The smoke shifted, revealing a shallow crater;
And a motionless black shape at its center.
Stoick staggered forwards. "Hiccup!"
The Night Fury didn't react. He recognised its markings now, it was the larger one - his son. Oh gods, he couldn't see him breathing.
His legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees on the rim of the crater.
"Hiccup..." Tears welled up in his eyes, and he couldn't find the will to stop them. His son, the last connection he had to Valka - the last source of light in his life - was gone. Why?
Because he'd been a gods-damned arrogant fool.
From the moment they'd set foot on the island they were doomed. The flock would have broken and crushed them, or failing that, their master would have sent them all to Helheim in a single breath. It was only thanks to the actions of dragons that Berk survived.
They'd still lost people - losses that they could scarcely afford with the village population decimated by dragon attacks.
Regardless, his people owed their chance to repair and rebuild to their ancestral enemy.
And his son.
"Oh, son..." he sobbed. He'd imprisoned him, disowned him, and forced him to lead them to the nest. Hiccup had no part in this, yet, when the time came, he gave his life like a true Viking; protecting his village;
Correcting his father's mistake.
"I..." Stoick choked out. "I did this..."
He wasn't sure how long he'd knelt there when he heard heavy footsteps approaching.
Astrid emerged from the smoke, her Nadder close beside her - practically rubbing shoulders with her. She came to a sudden stop when she saw the body in the crater. Her hand flew to her lips.
"No..."
A shadow passed overhead. The Night Fury silently settled to the ground beside them.
Stoick forced himself to turn and meet their gazes. "Hic-" He choked. "My son..."
Astrid looked puzzled for a moment, her gaze flicking between his son and the other black dragon.
"Stoick," she began gently, "That's not Hiccup."
He stared at her, not comprehending.
"That's..." she trailed off as the Night Fury began to scrabble in the ash with its claws.
Stoick rose to his feet, wondering what the dragon was doing that was so important. He watched, speechless, as it carved runes into the dirt.
'MUNINN' it wrote.
Stoick blinked. "One of Odin's...?"
"No," Astrid cut him off. "It's her name." She looked at the Night Fury, it nodded. "The dragons don't remember the names their parents gave them - its a side-effect of being controlled by the Queen - so Hiccup..."
Stoick didn't hear anything else she said after that single, magical, word.
He stared at the dragon - the male Night Fury - beside her, through eyes blurry with fresh tears. "Son..."
The Night Fury cleared the ground in front of him with a sweep of his tail and wrote one word.
'DAD'
For seven generations, Vikings and dragons had been mortal enemies. Stoick threw all of that aside without a thought. He lunged forwards, wrapping his arms around the Night Fury's neck.
The black dragon - his son! - grunted in surprise, but didn't pull away.
"Oh, Hiccup..." Stoick breathed. "You came back alive!"
Hiccup hummed softly, his hot breath brushing over Stoick's ear.
Stoick pulled back, looking his son in the eye. Now that he was aware of it, he could see his son's distinctive spark of intelligence in the great reptilian eye. But there was also pain in there.
There's been pain there most of the time you've known him, he thought bitterly.
But this wasn't the old, familiar heartache; this was fresh.
Pain he'd caused.
Everything he'd done to the Night Furies, everything he'd done in the name of revenge, he'd been doing to his own son.
What kind of father did that make him?
"Gods, son, I'm so sorry..."
Stormfly chirped, nudging Astrid's arm. She turned to face the Nadder, thankful for an excuse to look away from the intimate family reunion happening before them.
"What is it, girl?"
Since they'd landed, her Nadder hadn't strayed more than a single pace away. Astrid couldn't blame her - she shuddered just thinking of that terrible moment when in one instant they were safe, flying together, and in the next she was alone, plummeting towards the ground.
Stormfly turned away from her with a short trill. Astrid followed her gaze; the smoke had all but cleared now, and a wide circle of stunned survivors had formed around them. Behind the Vikings a second ring was forming, as dragons that had fled the Queen's rampage returned to the beach, blinking at their surroundings and conversing in confused growls.
Both sides eyed each other warily, but, for the moment, neither seemed willing to restart the conflict.
"Come on," she said. "Let's give them some privacy."
The crowd parted before her as she approached, eyes locking onto Stormfly and hands drifting towards weapons.
The Vikings' nervous whispers carried to her on the breeze.
"It's not attacking, none of them are, what do we do?"
"They can't be trusted, ready your weapons."
"No, that Nadder saved Stoick's life, Úlfr saw it."
"Are you sure? Sven said he saw a Nightmare carry off Stoick."
"No, you dolt! Look! Stoick's right there!"
"Is that a Night Fury?"
Eventually, Astrid stood in the gap between the Berkians and the dragons. She turned to face her people. "The dragons are not our enemies," she announced. "The big one the Night Furies - yes, they are Night Furies - killed was their Queen; she was the one who made them raid us. Now that she's gone, they just want to live in peace, like us." She emphasised her point by placing her hand on Stormfly's neck.
A hundred stares focused on her; some merely blank, others outright hostile.
"The only peaceful dragon is a dead one!" Someone shouted, earning a murmur of approval.
Astrid clenched her fists, inhaling sharply. Before she could snap at the man, Stormfly swung her head into view with a soothing trill.
Her Nadder's golden stare met her own.
Astrid sighed softly. "You're right, girl." Now was not the time for this; the battle was too fresh in everyone's minds. She scanned the people in front of her; they were warriors, what they needed was orders.
She couldn't see Stoick through the mass of Vikings, but she didn't think he'd be in a state to give them any time soon.
Astrid thought quickly. Her uncle had drilled the basics of wilderness survival into her almost as soon as she could speak. The same principles applied whether it was a single warrior or an entire raiding party. She rested a hand on Stormfly's flank and took a deep breath.
"Listen up! With the fleet gone, we're going to be stuck here a while. We need to organize before we lose the light!
"Our first priority is the wounded. Get a healing station set up and start ferrying people to it. Second, we need to salvage what we can from the fleet. Comb the beach, if it's usable, drag it here, above the high-tide mark, if it's not, break it down for firewood."
"Well, you heard the lassie!" A familiar voice shouted. "Get movin'!"
Used to recovering after the chaos inflicted by the raids, the villagers didn't need any more instruction. A series of shouts went up as they split into teams, and in the space of a minute the crowd began to dissolve.
Astrid felt a flush of embarrassment as Gobber hobbled up to her. "Gobber, Sir, I'm sorry, I-" She'd totally ignored the chain of command.
"Don't be," he cut in. "You were doing a good job." He looked from her to Stormfly. "Nice to see ya again, you overgrown chicken."
Her Nadder chirped back at him, nonplussed.
"Her name is Stormfly," Astrid told him. "Stormfly, this is Gobber."
"We've met." The smith commented drily. His next words were cut off as three dragons swooped towards them, their wings throwing up choking clouds of ash. The smith tensed beside her. Astrid held out a hand to stop him, but there was no need.
As soon as the lead Nightmare touched down, a figure leapt from his neck and rushed towards them.
"Sis!" Orvar exclaimed, throwing his arms around her. "You're alive! I saw you fall! I thought you were..."
Astrid returned the embrace. "I'm okay, Orvy." She looked up, over her little brother's shoulder. Fishlegs and the Twins stood beside their dragons a few paces away.
She let out a sigh of relief. "You're all okay."
As the rush of battle receded, realisation of what they'd accomplished crept in to replace it. They'd stood up against the Queen, and not only had they survived; they'd beaten her!
"We did it," she breathed. "It's over. We won."
"Hold your horses there, lassie," Gobber cut in. "We're not out of the woods quite yet."
Astrid turned to him. "What is it?"
"Food," the smith replied. "If we're lucky, we'll find a few sacks that aren't too burnt or waterlogged, but that won't feed this lot for very long." He gestured to the beach around them, which was now bustling with activity.
Astrid swore under her breath. It wasn't fair. They survived the flock, and beat the Queen, only to starve to death on this barren beach.
"Uh, about that," Fishlegs spoke up. "I was just thinking," he looked around. The ring of dragons had split up, some flying back up to the nest, others sitting on the beach in small groups, content to stay out of the way of the Vikings.
"If we take a low estimate of the population of the nest," Fishlegs continued. "And a guess at how much an adult dragon eats, then, based on the average amount of food they steal on a raid, multiplied by the number of villages within range..."
"Get to the point, lad."
He gulped, suddenly realising they were all looking at him. "The dragons couldn't get enough food just from raiding! And that's not accounting for how much the Queen must have eaten. They must have another food source!"
Astrid suddenly remembered her first, terrifying, trip to the nest. "You're right!" she exclaimed. "Everything they stole was fed to the Queen, the dragons didn't eat any of it themselves!"
Fishlegs' eyes lit up. "I knew it! It never made sense why they bothered raiding us, when they had all the food they could possibly need on their doorstep." He gestured towards the ocean beyond the fog banks.
"This is fascinating," Gobber interrupted. "But in case you've forgotten: we don't have any boats, and even if we did, we didn't exactly pack for a fishing expedition."
Before Astrid could respond, a gust of wind sent her stumbling forwards into a cloud of dust as their dragons took wing.
"Stormfly!" she cried after her dragon's retreating form. "Come back!"
The Nadder turned to face her, hovering in place. Their eyes met over the distance. Stormfly chirped; trust me.
"Okay girl," Astrid whispered, with a slight nod of her head.
Stormfly turned away from her, circling over one of the groups of the former flock. She called to them for a few moments, and they took flight, climbing up to join the Nadder as she headed into the mists, out to sea.
"Was it something I said?" asked Gobber, bemused.
"I think," Fishlegs replied, glancing at Astrid. "That Stormfly just decided to solve our food problem."
The sun had slipped below the horizon, but light remained, cast by a dozen bonfires scattered along the beach. Occasionally a loud snap was heard above the murmur of the Vikings crowded around the flames, as flurry of sparks soared into the night sky.
Astrid stood at the edge of the ring of light cast by one of the fires, Stormfly by her side. It had taken some convincing to get the Vikings to eat food that had been in a dragon's stomach, but eventually their hungry bellies had won out, and the mound of fish coughed up by the dragons had been more than enough to feed everyone on the beach.
She stretched out her arm, gently caressing Stormfly's neck. She followed her hand with her eyes, admiring how the firelight played over her Nadder's scales. Not for the first time that evening, she wondered what she'd done to earn the loyalty of such an incredible creature. Just when she thought she'd done enough to pay back the debt she owed the dragon, she outdid herself, saving the village for a second time in one day.
A golden eye flashed in the firelight as Stormfly turned to look at her, a curious hum vibrating through Astrid's palm.
"Thank you," Astrid whispered. "For everything."
Stormfly hummed louder, arching her neck into their contact.
A raucous cheer rose up from the Vikings. Astrid looked up as Gobber stepped into the ring of firelight, a barrel under one arm and a brace of tankards in his hand. A space was quickly cleared for him, and he sat down. Amber liquid sparkled as he began to pour.
"Is that mead?!" Astrid thought aloud. "Where the Hel did he find that?"
Soon, everyone around the fire had a drink in their hand. While the others lifted their mugs to their lips, Gobber raised his into the air and sang, tunelessly:
"After the long hard days,
Of hunting and of war,
Our throats are tired and thirsty,
And our bodies drenched in gore.
"But we won't waste our evenings
Feeling tired and feeling spent..."
The rest of the crowd joined in. "We perk right up when we breathe in that wholesome honey scent!
"That Abbasidic Brandy;
Too fruity for these tongues!
You can keep your fancy Roman wine;
It tastes like Gronckle dung!"
They went on for several verses, criticising every alcoholic beverage in the known world and growing increasingly boisterous.
"You can keep your filthy poppy;
It makes our bellies bleed!
'Cause when we raise our flagon
To another dead-"
Silence. All eyes turned to Stormfly.
Unperturbed, Gobber continued in a hoarse yell. "There's just one drink we need!"
"Norse mead!"
Astrid couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer absurdity of it all; of Vikings singing drinking songs that had been sung on winter nights in Berk's mead hall for seven generations, while dragons lounged mere feet away.
She had been worried that this peace wouldn't last; that Berk had suffered too much pain at the claws of the flock to just move on. But her village was a hardy and resourceful people; as long as they had booze they could weather anything.
She turned away from the fire as the crowd began a chant of "Chug a mug of mead!" Stormfly trilled softly and followed as she stepped into the darkness. Astrid wove between the bonfires, making her way along the beach, towards where the Queen had landed.
As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, the sky began to glow a faint green - the northern lights shining down through the fog.
Muninn's body hadn't been moved from where she fell.
Astrid stood at the rim of the crater, looking down on where she lay. Hiccup had explained to her and Stoick that the Queen had massacred the Night Furies, and that Muninn was the last of her kind.
To most of Berk, the Night Fury was just another dead dragon on a beach littered with them. To Astrid and Stormfly, she was the last remnant of a golden age; perhaps the last being who truly remembered what the dragons were like before the Queen.
"Who were you?" Astrid murmured. "You went through so much... how did you keep going?"
The only reply was the lonely whistling of wind through the sea stacks.
"I'm sorry..." Astrid looked down at her feet. "That we never got to know you; that all you knew of humanity was imprisonment... I'm not a Skald, but I - we - will remember you... what you sacrificed for us."
Beside her, Stormfly hummed in agreement.
A flicker of green light caught Astrid's eye. Her gaze snapped up to Muninn's body - had a scale caught the light of the Aurora somehow? She looked up. The clouds still hung thick over the island.
Breathless, she turned to her Nadder. "Did you see that?"
Stormfly didn't reply, staring intently at Muninn.
Astrid cautiously slid down into the crater. The light flickered again.
This time she saw it.
A wisp of emerald light, curling in on itself like smoke as it rose from Muninn's body.
A flash of green. Another stream of light drifted up from the Night Fury.
Astrid froze, transfixed by the sight.
The light grew brighter as more wisps joined the first. Soon the strange energy rose from Muninn's scales like glowing steam.
The last Night Fury's eyes snapped open. She drew in a shuddering gasp.