I've never seen Nightstar fly so fast. She shoots towards Berk at top speed, her wing strokes hasty and her flight streamlined. I don't navigate her, letting her lead the way while I survey my surroundings.
For the first time, I notice that the land I've flown through so many times has changed. The sky has an overcast look to it, the bright blue and the fluffy clouds absent, and the water below us looks dark and unfriendly instead of powerful and exhilarating. Little things, even something simple as feelings I've gotten from my surroundings in the past, have altered.
Nightstar jerks to a stop, jolting me from my wandering thoughts. I look ahead, seeing that we've arrived at Berk, or at least, what's left of it.
The houses are all old and broken down, as well as being less numerous than before. No dragons fly around and no Vikings move through the village. The forge is empty, the glowing fires within extinguished, and the statues of Stoick the Vast that were added after the second Dragon War are smashed and nearly unrecognizable.
Nightstar glances back at me, waiting for my words. I nudge her forwards, spurring her to fly carefully towards the decimated village. We touch down near what used to be a fish storage shed, and I hop off Nightstar's back as I scan the surroundings for anyone familiar.
"Psst...hey."
Nightstar turns her head, her ear plates swivelling and lifting as she looks in the direction of the voice. I squint, staring into a shadowy alley between two houses and trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. A crouching shape looks out at us, one visible arm gesturing for us to come closer.
I glance at Nightstar and motion for her to follow, creeping towards the alleyway. The person scoots away, moving further into the shadows. I don't stop walking, Nightstar and I both inching between the houses.
"Hey, are you okay?" I call as the person stops moving. I start towards her, silently commanding Nightstar to stay in place. "I just want to ask—"
The Viking moves so fast that I don't have time to blink before she has me pinned to the ground. She, I can tell now, uses her knees to hold my arms down and her weight to keep my legs pinned. She presses a knife to my throat, her blue eyes boring into my own with a sort of malice that I've rarely seen on a Berkian.
Everything on her face, save for her eyes and the tip of her blonde braid, is covered by a head-cloth so that she looks more like a bandit and less like a Viking.
Nightstar growls and takes a step forwards. The woman looks towards the dragon with faint shock registering in her eyes, the only window to her emotion.
"Call off the Night Fury," she growls, pressing the blade against my neck just a little more.
I keep my face straight as my eyes flicker to Nightstar. "Down, girl."
The dragon snorts. "Whatever you say, Thora," she mutters.
My attention wavers back to my captor. She doesn't register any knowledge of hearing my dragon talk, only solidifying my offhand assumption that only I can understand Nightstar.
"Who are you?" she demands. "And don't do anything funny. I will not hesitate to end you right here."
"I'm just looking for Chief Hiccup," I say, keeping my voice as calm as I can manage.
Her eyes soften with pain for a moment. Her free hand moves up to her face and she tugs the lower half of her mask down, revealing her entire face to my viewing. I can't help but let out a short gasp, but that's partially because she's crushing my torso and making it rather hard to breathe.
"Astrid?"
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Soul of Furies (Book Three)
FanfictionThora has reached thirty-three years of age, and she's doing just fine with raising her children and her clan of Night Furies. However, her peace is coming to an end. Almost ten years ago, she was killed in a battle against her greatest foe, Alrek...
