Soul of Furies (Book Three)

Chapter 4: Shooting Star

"Idiot, I'm a complete and utter idiot," I mutter, storming off to wherever my feet carry me. "You steaming heap of dragon dung," I scold myself. "He's your husband. They're your children, your flesh and blood. You couldn't just mention something like that?"

I spin around and kick the nearest thing to my foot, sending a stick flying into the air and into the darkness. I slump my shoulders, walking slower now as I stare at my necklace, fiddling with every little gem laced on it. I added the gems that Hiccup gave me for gifts in the past, six different colours for my six different Night Furies, but now those colours only remind me of the people and dragons that I'm leaving behind.

I feel something nudge my shoulder, a short gasp leaving me as I spin around. Nightstar looks up at me with a gentle spark in her big blue eyes, the stick I kicked away clamped in her jaw. She wags her long tail and rests the wood in my hand, a small gurgle of worry leaving her throat.

"Oh Nightstar..." I breathe, feeling like I'm going to cry again. "I've screwed up so badly. I don't think I can make it right." I sniff, shaking my head.

Nightstar curls herself around my body, supporting my weight with her own. I slouch against her warm black scales, casting my brown eyes to the night sky. I let out a long breath, wishing I could just become weightless and float away.

"If we'd kept flying that day instead of stopping to talk to him, things would've been fine," I say, noticing my dragon's ear-plates flatten. "Alrek wouldn't have bothered to attack Berk if I wasn't around."

Nightstar snorts. "You can't be sure of that," she seems to scold, using her wing to jostle my shoulder.

"No, I'm pretty sure," I retort. "Hell, if I never existed in the first place, it'd be better off. You'd still be free and living easy, Berk would go on without me and Hiccup would actually have someone who could be a decent wife."

My voice breaks and I cough, trying to swallow the lump that's appeared in my throat again. The sky seems to light up as a streak of white flashes across the sheet of black, making my eyes widen. A shooting star...I haven't seen one of those in a while.

"I wish that I was never born," I joke humourlessly. Nightstar lets out a short roar at me, as if protesting my silly "wish". I reach out and pat her head, the wind rustling my auburn hair. "It's not real, girl. Besides, in two weeks or so...I won't exist anymore anyways."

"Thora?"

I swivel my head, rushing to compose my features. Eret stands a little ways away from me, Ilia next to him. Both Vikings look rather concerned, their eyebrows knit together in a sort of confusion just to add to their overall expression. I manage a wave.

"Oh...hey," I say, cursing how thick my voice sounds. "Uh...how're you two tonight?"

"We were just taking a walk to the docks. Apparently one of the smaller fishing boats needs patching," Ilia answers, running one hand through her dark hair as she flashes a smile. "What're you doing out here? Isn't it about time to be putting your kids to bed?"

Just mentioning Destin and Runa makes me want to run and hide, but I force a smile and try to look more pleasant than I feel. "Oh...uh, Hiccup is taking care of them. I needed to get some fresh air."

"I can understand that completely," Ilia agrees, letting out a dramatic sigh followed by a short laugh. "Loki is so terrible at bedtimes. He's always wanting to play more or visit Skullcrusher or—"

"Ilia, dear, can you check on that boat?" Eret interrupts, patting her shoulder. When she gives him a confused look, he just smiles. "I don't like leaving Loki with Snotlout for too long, you know?"

Her face softens. "Right, of course," she says. She starts walking, moving past me with her green eyes as glittery and happy as ever. "Enjoy your walk, Thora!"

She lands a solid thump on my back that nearly knocks me off my feet, a short wheezing breath escaping my frame. Once again, I'm reminded of just how much weaker in the body Hermaōan Vikings are compared to others. I am and always have been weaker than most of the people here...not that I've ever minded.

"So Thora, what's bothering you?" Eret asks, averting his dark eyes from his wife's retreating form and fastening them on me. He smiles a little. "I mean...from what I know about you, this is your 'hide away in your house and read' time."

I sigh, scuffing the tip of my boot against the ground. "I...had a fight with Hiccup, if I'm being honest."

Honest. The word makes bile rise in my throat and causes me to shudder. Eret gives me a sympathetic look, stepping closer as he strokes his chin thoughtfully.

"Hm...well, as far as I know, fights are just a normal part of being married. I'm sure you two can work it out, right?" he asks.

He smiles, looking more like a puppy than a tough ex-dragon wrangler. The hope in his eyes makes me want to either cry or tell him everything. Even if I did try, my words would get stuck and I'd end up lying again.

"I...I don't know if we can this time," I utter, feeling my throat tighten up further. "I really messed up, Eret."

He sighs, glancing past me at Nightstar for a moment. The dragon snorts and lowers her head, swishing her tail back and forth lazily. Eret reaches over and clasps his large hand on my shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey, there's always tomorrow," he comforts. "I'll see you later, okay?"

I don't answer, only give my head the tiniest nod before he wanders past and heads for the docks. Nightstar wanders closer to me, nuzzling her head against my arm as I watch my friend's retreating back.

"Yeah...but what happens when my tomorrows run out?" I whisper to no one in particular.