Moon Fire

Chapter 8

Hiccup yelped in terror and catapulted himself away from Softclaws. Somehow he lost his balance and landed hard on his backside and scuttled backwards to find some form of cover before the dragon let loose her flame. It was no use. He couldn't run, not with his ankle in the shape it was. Still the maniac dragon approached him, her mouth hanging open. She exhaled and he automatically raised a hand to protect his face, even though he knew it wouldn't help.

But surprisingly, it was not fire that came out of Softclaws' mouth like he expected, but a mysterious purple gas. And the moment that gas touched his hand that was riddled with rope burns, the dull pain ceased, the angry red skin was soothed back to its original color, and the wounds closed up right before his eyes. He stared at his hand in wonder, then looked up at the dragon. She still did not try to speak to him, but instead gave him a look that said, Are you done acting weird now that you know what I'm trying to do?

A little sheepishly, Hiccup sat still for her while she breathed on his other hand, then his ankle. Feeling his bones shift and knit themselves back together without causing any pain whatsoever was probably the strangest sensation Hiccup had ever experienced in his entire life. It was so odd that he couldn't help laughing a little, but he stopped quickly, thinking that he sounded like he was going crazy. But Softclaws paused briefly in her work to glance at him and swish her tail gently, seeming pleased by the sound.

Now finally able to stand up on his own, Hiccup got to his feet and gave Softclaws a clear view of the harpoon wound. She made no sound. She breathed on his shoulder, and a breeze blew some of the gas into Hiccup's face and made him sneeze. Softclaws grunted, which might have been her saying, Bless you.

When she was done, Hiccup felt around the area where the wound had been, and though his hand came away dirty with dried blood, there was no pain. Not even a hint of it.

"Thank you," he said, and Softclaws nodded. She gestured with her muzzle over to where the abandoned village lay hidden in the dark forest, and then began to walk toward it. Hiccup followed her, curious about what the people that lived here might have left behind.

Soon, they reached the clearing. Long, dark shadows made it hard to see everything, but the moon, pale and full, shone its light on the ruins. Hiccup walked around, exploring. Just as Twig had said, there was a well in what seemed to be the village plaza. Surrounding it were several houses, all in various states of disrepair, the thatch on the roofs rotten and the walls riddled with gaping, jagged holes. On closer inspection, much of the wood looked darker than the rest, as if it had been burned.

"What happened here?" he asked Softclaws, but she only shrugged and made a weird gurgling sound. Perhaps she'd been born after the village was abandoned.

After walking around for a little bit longer, Hiccup saw something that made his breath catch and a wave of irrepressible nostalgia to sweep over him. A lump formed in the back of his throat, and he fought to hold it at bay. It was a smithy, broken down and battered and probably more trouble to fix than it was worth, but it reminded him so much of Gobber's smithy, of warmth and safety and home, that when he put his hands on the pit where bellows would heat the forge and bring the flames to life, he couldn't keep the tears back. He cried silently for the fact that he'd never see Gobber or Astrid, the two people he'd been closest to, ever again. That he'd never get to hear hushed stories of his father's heroics while sharpening weapons to keep Magnus from getting suspicious.

He would never see Berk again.

Softclaws nudged his arm, cooing worriedly. Given a few minutes, Hiccup glanced at her with red eyes and wet cheeks, wiped his sleeve across his face, and explained. "This is the kind of place I used to work in on Berk. Gobber would always keep the fires going, and it would always be toasty warm in the smithy even if it was twenty below outside. That was the closest thing I had to a home. . . . " Hiccup trailed off, lost in his memories and the bittersweet moment in the run-down forge.