(DISCONTINUED) Legacy of the Thunder and Fury--Book 1--Shock of Betrayal

Fifteen: Secret

I'm likely to not update after this. This is the somewhat final chapter; I found it half finished in Docs and decided to publish it. It's from December, so... Old and badly written as always lol.

                                             Heather

She didn't like Berserker island, and Dagur was just too strange and sinister. Heather ducked underneath an overhanging pine branch and edged past a boulder propped next to the tree.

It was hard for her to register what was happening. Her whole life had been ripped out from under her and flipped upside down in just a few days.

Trees swayed ahead, and the sky seen through gaps in the canopy was gray and overcast. Birds chirped mutedly, though Heather could see none.

She stepped past the boulder, careful to avoid stepping on sticks or other crackly things. She was only exploring, but she didn't want to be caught. Dagur might be annoyed to find her gone, so she had to be as quick as possible. Heather was trying to map out the island without being too conspicuous; her supposed brother had already shown her the viking inhabited part of it, but she needed to know about the wilder places too.

Somewhere to her left, a distant dragon roared. She couldn't tell what species, but it made her skin feel cold and prickly. Leaves rustled overhead, and something growled. What was that?

Heather speed walked to a nearby stream, glancing behind herself nervously.

Something was definitely watching her. Perched on the branch that was above her a second ago was some kind of shape, much blockier than that of a leaf clump. It cocked its head at her and vanished without a trace back into the greenery. Unnerved, she hopped over the stream and kept walking.

Pine needles and dried ferns crunched under her boots. Living ferns brushed against her legs as she stepped through clumps of the plants. The forest was much, much greener and prettier than the one on her or the Outcast's island.

Speaking of the Outcasts--Heather reached up gingerly and brushed her hand lightly over her injured shoulder. A sliver of pain answered her and she winced. The bandage shielded it from the air and everything else, but it still hurt, of course. After waking up the second time, Dagur brought her to the village healer to get stitches. She did, and it was painful, but it was fifty times better than her neck not healing properly. The wounded muscle was only nicked and skin barely split, and the healer advised her to not move her head around much.

Thankfully, the wound hadn't shown any sign of infection--yet. She wasn't sure how clean Savage's axe was... Probably not very clean.

Fern fronds waved cheerily in the breeze, and not a dragon was in sight.

Dragons.

Heather flinched unconsciously, recalling the events of the week. If Snotlout hadn't caught her, she would've drowned. The thought sent shivers down her spine. She remembered Stormfly's squawk as the blue Nadder swooped from the sky to her rescue. She was relieved about it, but it also made her wonder why the dragon helped her; she was the enemy. Maybe some dragons are smarter than others, or she just doesn't understand.

Maybe it would've been better if she'd left me.

Toothless's bright green eyes burnt into hers with curiosity and faint hostility. She remembered meeting the dragons and their riders the first time. If only she hadn't washed up on Berk. If only the Outcasts didn't attack her island. If only Dagur didn't get free. I must be cursed with terrible luck, she muttered to herself as she strode through more long ferns and brushed a vine out of her way. A cricket chittered next to her, making her jump.