Splitter- English Version

21. Fire

Hot vapour blew into his face and strong nostrils sniffed his arm, sucking in the air like a hurricane. Hiccup was startled, opened his eyes and saw himself in the dilated pupils of a dragon. He backed away. "A Deathsinger," he breathed as the beast bared its fangs, roared at him and began to sing. It spread its huge wings, which shimmered purple in the sunlight.
Hiccup couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the animal, I wonder if he was on Melody Island? Impossible. The last visit was just before he and Toothless were captured. They had looked after Garf, the tosinging dragon that had hatched from an orange and white egg on their island. They had proudly watched him make friends with the other Death Song.
Whenever that had been, he realised with regret. And while exploring the island, they would certainly have discovered Viggo's camp. Perhaps they would even have destroyed it and chased his arse off the island. He sighed heavily. He looked down at the dragon and discovered countless scars, scratches and burns.
"What have they done to you?" he whispered softly. And clenched his hands into fists so that his knuckles turned white. Why did humans exploit the intelligence, strength and agility of such marvellous creatures so vehemently to harm others? He didn't understand and it made him angry.
The dragon bent down and rubbed its horn against a piece of cold metal. Hiccup recognised the shackle that prevented the dragon from simply flying away and followed the piece of metal with his eyes, its chain links stretching a few metres further to an iron plate where they were joined together. Hiccup crossed his legs cross-legged and looked around for the first time and then he realised that he was surrounded by dragons, countless dragons.
Most of them lay exhausted on the ground, trapped in the amber-hard substance that Hiccup knew only too well from the dragon. Even though his heart was heavy, that was the way of things. There were dragons that ate other dragons. But if Viggo used the Death Song to attract new dragons, have them captured, imprisoned and then sold on the black market, or worse still, let them die in tournaments, he couldn't allow that.
Determined, he looked around. The Deathsinger was also emaciated and he was only spitting a little of his amber-coloured poison. This was probably an advantage for him for the time being. If he wanted to free the dragon, he should let himself be hit as little as possible by the hardening amber mass. After all, it was not a giant nightmare that could easily break out of its solid cocoon thanks to its self-igniting body. But if he was able to gain the dragon's trust, he would have a powerful ally on the island who might be able to help him escape from here.
And how could you gain the trust of a dragon? Right, by feeding it. So Hiccup looked around for dragons that had already died in the cocoon, their eyes already deep in their sockets. Viggo didn't seem to have had any dragons picked up for days. He simply couldn't bring himself to offer the Death Song any living dragons and hoped that the latter would also be interested in carrion. He found a small, green horror that hadn't shown any signs of life for hours and carefully dragged it towards the Death Song.
It spread its wings menacingly and roared at Hiccup. He turned once in a circle and tilted his tall stature. Vigilantly and without taking his eyes off him, the dragon allowed Hiccup to enter his circle. Slowly, Hiccup bent down and placed the dead body of the terrible terror with his head bowed. This type of dragon was known to kill if you looked into its eyes for too long. Many inexperienced Vikings had had this experience before humans learnt to cooperate with dragons. Just as deliberately as he had come, Hiccup left the circle without turning his back on the dragon or looking it in the eye, for that would mean he was too sure of himself. When he was sure he had stepped out of the circle of death, he took a few more steps backwards and watched the dragon as it eyed him suspiciously.
Following his instincts, the mistrust didn't last long and he happily made his way over the food, singing in a different tune. Hiccup exhaled a long breath. He hadn't realised that he had stopped breathing while he was in the circle. He dropped down into the soft moss and heard his own stomach growl loudly in accusation. He should look for a camp where he could survive the nights without being taken for easy prey by dragons or wolves. He sighed, stood up and marched up the hill to see the landscape for himself. There was a valley below the hill, with a small waterfall and some jagged rock faces that jutted out at him like teeth.
Maybe he was lucky and he could catch a fish and roast it afterwards. He went back to the clearing and gathered some firewood, which he hoped would be dry enough without sending too much smoke into the sky and giving away his position. He tucked dry twigs and straw under his arm and looked around for a stronger stick that he could sharpen and use for hunting. He found a hazelnut bush with long, straight branches and broke one off with difficulty, walked back into the valley and sat down on a warm stone in the sun. He took out his dagger and began to work the stick with the blade. After a while, a long point formed at the end of the stick. Hiccup ran his fingers over it and was satisfied. With an effort, he stood up. Now he just had to be a little patient.
He slowly scrambled down the steep slope and sank to his knees on the riverbank. He hastily dipped his hands into the cool water. He had forgotten how thirsty he was and brought his hands with the glistening contents to his lips, but then paused. He didn't know if he could handle the water. He should boil it first and then let it cool down. But in which container? he asked himself silently. An orange pebble stole into his field of vision and he was about to avert his gaze when the idea came to him to simply help himself to the amber substance of the Death Song. The material was easy to cut through with a hot blade. He looked around and spotted a block, took it and began to build a crackling fire.
When the fire produced a small flame and some glowing embers could already be seen, he held the dagger in it and waited until the blade turned a glowing red colour. He took out the steaming metal and began to work a kind of bowl out of the amber block. He had to heat the metal a few more times and with a certain amount of pressure, the blade cut through the substance like butter. When Hiccup was satisfied, he filled the jug with water and placed it next to the hearth, when it was hot enough he would let it cool and then drink it. Dusk had already set in and he hoped he could catch a fish before it was too dark to do so. He took off his shoes and rolled his trousers up to his knees.
He waded into the icy water hoping to catch a fish or something similar. He carried the stick in his right hand and stood still in the water. His toes dug uncomfortably into the silt and the cold water pricked his lower legs like fine needles. Nothing happened for a while and he only felt the biting cold gnawing at his thighs. When he then noticed the gentle swish of a tail fin in the corner of his eye, he slowly followed the movement with his eyes and a fish stole into his field of vision. Hiccup made an effort not to jump for joy, but moved his body carefully and deliberately in the direction of the fish. He pointed the sharpened stick at the surface of the water, which reflected the grey sky. With a jerk, he struck and was lucky.
He leapt joyfully out of the water and examined the wriggling body of a trout. He stunned the fish with a well-aimed blow to the head, pierced the animal's small heart and thanked the gods of the sea for the kind gift. He speared the body again and Hiccup began to warm his shivering body by the remaining fire. He held his meal close to the remaining embers and began to cook the meat. Every now and then he added a little wood, but not too much, so that it would not become too large and thus visible to those from whose fingers it had previously wriggled. When the fish was ready, Hiccup could hardly believe he was holding something edible in his hands again. He couldn't imagine what it would taste like. Somehow disgusted and hungry at the same time, he peeled the roasted fish skin from the muscle meat underneath and took the first piece between his fingers, slowly pushing the tender meat into his mouth and chewing.
It tasted of nothing but the harsh forces of nature that haunted the island and his stomach cramped uncomfortably as the first bite landed inside him. He tried another bite, knowing full well that too much food would surely kill him. The second bite was just as disgusting as the first and eventually he forced himself to eat a third of the fish. Night had already fallen and he could hear dragons roaring and in the distance he could hear the dragon riders bawling, presumably now sitting merrily around a warm fire enjoying a pleasant feast. Hiccup placed the fish on a banana leaf he had found next to the wood and grabbed his self-made bowl. He greedily craved the water, but restrained himself and took a small sip. He felt warm and cosy as the hot water ran down his throat.
He took another sip and savoured the warmth spreading through his battered body. When he had finished drinking, he thought long and hard about whether he should take the prosthesis off to sleep, but decided against it. It had made his escape possible in the first place and would save him again, who knows what was lurking around here at night. He wrapped the fish tightly in the banana leaf and placed it near the fire. Hopefully that would mask the smell. He wrapped himself in more banana leaves, placed the sharpened stick close at hand and closed his eyes. Tomorrow he would look for a permanent shelter and then he would think about how to free the Deathsinger and get his arse off this island.
When he was already half asleep and he looked into Toothless's green lake eyes again, there was a loud thunderclap and he was torn from the cosy blackness.
He rubbed his eyes and cursed the weather on this island. Rain announced itself with heavy, cool drops and penetrated Hick's thick, matted hair. He pulled himself together. He crushed the fireplace, took the banana leaves and went back into the forest, which he immediately regretted, because countless dragons and other mammals, which Hiccup did not recognise in the twilight, stormed out of the forest. Hiccup wanted to go deeper, but he soon recognised the cause of the animals' flight.
Fire.
Hiccup picked his way through the dragon-sheep-cow-small animal crowd and realised that the fire was moving towards the dragons, who were still trapped in their amber cocoons. And the Death Song, who was still chained up, would also die if he didn't do something about it. He ran back to the water, tearing off part of his black linen shirt on the way, dipping it into the water and pulling it over his mouth and nose. The smoke was relentlessly thick and built up like a huge wall in front of Hiccup. He coughed hard as he walked through it and was glad in the same breath that he at least had a piece of cloth between him and the wall of smoke. When he arrived at the clearing, the first flames were already flickering in the trees and it wouldn't be too long before theg dragons suffocated in them.
As a rule, they were able to withstand heat quite easily and for a long time, as they were dependent on warmth. Hiccup ran first to the Death Song, who lunged straight at him and wrestled him to the ground with a loud roar. Hiccup picked himself up and rushed to the floor plate where the chain was attached and again the Death Song attacked him and pulled him to the ground. Hiccup was panting heavily and his eyes were watering. He coughed and thick mucus formed in his airways. Thick beads of sweat ran down his forehead and cheeks and he lay powerless on the ground. How was he supposed to free a dragon that was vehemently resisting his release? They would all suffocate in agony here if this continued. And only now did he realise that the Death Song was sniffing at him with interest. He inhaled the dark smoke hotly and expelled it again. Hiccup sat up and the Death Song jumped back, but was too curious to be distracted by Hiccup's movement.
He slowly stretched out his hands and the dragon sniffed them with interest. His nostrils gently touched Hiccup's fingertips and his pupils widened in a friendly manner. He slowly dared to stand up and the dragon hissed indignantly, but Hiccup was not deterred. Now it was his turn to cross borders. He slowly approached the shackles while the dragon reared up menacingly and spread its wings. Hiccup took no notice, diving under the wings and kneeling in front of the slab. He drew his dagger and levered out the bolts with the curved handle, twisting them out of their threads until the dragon freed itself under its own power. Its pupils narrowed and it took to the air. Hiccup heard the cawing of the trapped dragons and realised with horror that the fire had almost reached them. He rushed to them and cut through the amber, which was softened by the scorching heat, with enormous effort.
First he freed a deadly female Nadder, then two Bladewhips and finally 5 Gronkel. He could have sworn that there had been more dragons in the morning, but he couldn't explain where they had disappeared to. However, there were casualties - he was unable to free either the deadly Nadder or the three swift spikes. They were simply swallowed up by the fire and smoke and their wailing pained Hiccup to the core. He, however, had reached the end of his tether - the last days and weeks of privation had been too exhausting. The smoke cut off his air and tears obscured his vision. He collapsed to the ground and crawled, coughing and gasping for breath, in a direction he hoped would lead him out of the forest and away from the fire. He felt his way through the undergrowth and sharp-edged branches and thorns shredded his hands and forearms, but the acrid smoke burned his eyes and lungs too much.
He heard it crack loudly and prayed that he had only been mistaken when a thick burning branch hit the ground in front of him, sending sparks and ash flying and scorching his skin and hair. Hiccup screamed, still clutching the cloth over his mouth and nose, and breathed in the scalding hot air. His lungs ached and slowly he lost all strength and will to get out of here alive. The gods were only playing with him and wrestling with death every day would not be enough for his soul. It longed only for a soft, warm bed, pleasantly cool air and Toothless. Toothless, Hiccup thought before he lost consciousness.

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