The Great Beyond

Chapter 33: To Heather or Not to Heather (Hiccup)

Eventful mornings were nothing new on the Edge. Most of the time, we started our days off with working or patrolling around the island, and on the rare occasion, fending off an attack from Dragon Hunters. This particular morning, Astrid, Reign, and I were preparing our plan for an incoming migration of Deadly Nadders we needed to help, but that paled in comparison to the twins and Snotlout. In a strange moment of unity, the three of them were going through some training exercise together, pretending to chase something. I didn't notice anything off about it, and was instead impressed by the effort.

"Nice to see those three training on their own," I remarked.

"Not really like them, though, is it?"

Astrid had a point.

Our trio glanced at each other, and once we'd all caught on, we ran after the group, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Our pursuit led us all the way to Fishlegs' hut, where we found Snotlout, Tuffnut, and Ruffnut all piled on the home's resident, eyes trained to a Terrible Terror that had landed on a trunk.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey!" Reign's shout got all of them to be quiet. "What is going on with you three? And why are you all on top of Fishlegs?"

"It's okay. Really," Fishlegs tried to assure us, even as the twins and Snotlout continued to pull on Fishlegs' limbs. After a bit more annoyance, Tuffnut held a small scroll of paper up in the air.

"Ha! The Fishmeister has been getting quite the bevy of Terror Mails, lately," Tuffnut informed us. Reign and I glanced at each other, both shrugging; neither of us knew this was going on. Then again, we generally didn't pay attention to Terror Mails that didn't concern us.

"And since we haven't been sending them..."

"That begs the question, who is our sly little friend, here, communicating with on the... sly?"

"Uh-huh."

"And because he won't give up a name..."

"We decided to take matters into our own hands."

How exactly did they have so much time to focus on this? They were supposed to be taking care of chores around here, and tracking the habits of a Terrible Terror took up a lot of time—I would know. What tasks had they neglected in order to do this?

Fishlegs pushed himself up onto his feet, dusting off his clothes before he threw his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, fine.," he groaned, reaching his breaking point with his interrogators. "If you must know—"

"Oh, we must," Tuffnut insisted. "We must!"

"Yes, yes. We must!" I shook my head, frustrated that this had occupied so much of our attention thus far. Those Nadders weren't going to get around the Hunters themselves, and we still didn't have a clear diversion path.

"Guys, Fishlegs doesn't have to tell you unless he wants to. It's his personal, private business."

"Well said, Hiccup."

Still, it could be beneficial for us to know who he was communicating with. Obviously, Fishlegs wouldn't communicate with anyone shady or evil, but whoever this was, clearly they were of some importance. Otherwise, Fishlegs wouldn't be trying so hard to hide their name from us.

He looked around, realizing he'd been boxed in by curious faces, and caved.

"I've been corresponding with a certain someone who has been returning my Terror Mails in kind. Happy?" I watched as Reign's eyes lit up and a giddy smile stretched onto her face.