Tuffnut peeks through the leaves from his place in the trees. His twin peaks out her head beside him. "This is too depressing for me to watch," mutters Tuffnut.
"I know! It's like we're living in a soap opera!" his sister replies.
"It's as though my own life is crumbling as I watch this perfectly rigid and confident Lokier crumble as well." They watch as the crying Draira is enveloped in the Titanwing Monstrous Nightmare's wings. "Oh! I can't bear this sadness!" Tuffnut puts his face in his hands.
"Poor Draira," murmurs Ruffnut, shaking her head sadly. Behind them, the heads of Barf and Belch croon in agreement. They sit in silence for a while, listening to the sobs of one very unhappy soul.
"We need to do something!" exclaims Tuffnut, sitting up straighter and almost falling off the tree as a result.
"Yeah, great idea bro-nut. Except, how do we do that without letting her know we followed her?" Ruff winces. "And listened to her heart felt grief."
"Bird calls," explains Tuff.
Ruffnut groans. "You know I'm horrible at bird calls."
"Then I'll do them." Tuffnut lets out a beautiful string of notes that perfectly mimic their turkey counterpart. The Nightmare's head snaps their way and the twins hide deeper in the leaves. As the Nightmare tries to sniff them out, Draira peeks her head out of his wings. Red tear stains run down her cheeks, but her green eyes are clearer than they've ever been. She looks around before slowly approaching Oswald's hut. The Titanwing makes a move to follow her, but Draira stills him with a hand. She enters the hut and heads inside.
"Mission accomplished!" Tuffnut grins.
"Alright!" Ruffnut pumps her fist in the air and then high-fives Tuff. They lay back in the trees and wait for Draira to come out.
* * *
I lay there a long time, away from the world, in the pocket of life Afternoon had created for me with his wings. The tears had long since dried from my face leaving a stiff and crummy exterior. Gross. I rub at my face, trying to clear away the remaining sadness as much as anything else. I thought you had gotten over sadness. The voice in my head again. I sigh and sit up straighter. I still am wary to go outside, but the shroud of unhappiness has left me.
A turkey call sounds outside. The sound pierces through the silent air and leaves both me and Afternoon tensing. Dad loved turkeys... Sadness fills me once again, but my heart is too dry to shed more tears. I peak a head out of Afternoon's wings and pear around. As far as I can tell, there is no turkey in sight.. and nothing that might've made the sound. Is this a sign from the gods? I look to the heavens and whisper a small prayer to Balder, hoping he would be kind to me in my moment of uncertainty.
Slowly, I exit Afternoon's wings. I hear him moving behind me, so I turn around and put up a hand to stop him, reassurance shining in my eyes. He hesitates, stops and sits down like a guard dog. I nod my head in thanks and continue towards Oswald's hut.
I stop before the door, hesitant to view the last resting place of my father. What seems to me a minute is probably only a few seconds, for then I finally enter the hut.
The door creaks with as much uncertainty as I feel inside of me. "Hello?" I whisper on instinct. Of course, no one answers. I go further inside. The ground is still dirt and rocks. On my right is a pile of weapons and journals and on my left is piles of crates and barrels filled with food enough to last someone a month or more.
A little beyond the supplies is where the wooden planks end to give way to the cliff face where black writings had been painted on. I step forward to observe them closer. On the left is a picture of a younger Heather and Dagur. Below their depictions is a drawing of the head of what I had only heard of: Grimnashers. Looking at just the head, I could've almost mistaken it as a Boneknapper except for the slightly different horns atop their heads. Moving my eyes to the right, I notice my father had drawn a full scale picture of said Grimnashers with more skill than I remembered he had. Beneath it is the drawing of an apple, and I smile in bemusement. Oswald was never one for predictability.
Besides these pictures, I also see many an ink handprint as well as a few tic tac toe boards and markings of days lost. On the right side is an alcove where something was previously stored and below it is drawing of some sort of landscape as well as our clan's symbol. The Berserker symbol... Except.. I frown, looking closer. Instead of the typical Skrill, there is a Deadly Nadder, signifying this as the sharp class symbol. Looking at all the signs of the Grimgnashers on the walls, I can easily guess why. But, the fact I had confused it for my own signal gives me pause, and I walk over to further investigate the wall.
As I come up to the drawings, I realize the detailed landscape has a dragon's outline on its ground. It looks as though someone had started drawing it but given up and tried to erase it. Upon additional study, I come to the conclusion that the dragon was supposed to be a Skrill based apon its two legs and triangular face. Tracing over it with a finger, I recognize the environment as a rocky hill on the old island where two wooden posts where embedded into the ground as places to tie one's boat. I docked there when I went back...
Eyes widening, I suddenly understand that this picture was for me, just like the small pictures of Heather and Dagur were for them. He still hoped you were alive. He drew this so that you would know he still loved you. The now meek voice in my head reminds me. I hold back fresh tears.
Then, a realization smacks me in the gut. If the symbol on the wall wasn't Berserker... I race back outside and look at the door. Sure enough, instead of a Skrill, there is a Sharp Class symbol. Looking closer, I can discern faint blue paint where the Berserker symbol used to be. This can't be a coincidence.. My eyes roam around the edges of the door until they land on the rocks providing a frame work for it. Grinning, I feel around their surfaces. Discerning a loose rock among them, I pull on it, and it neatly falls into my palm. Setting it down, I put my hand through the small gap to feel rolled up paper inside. As I pull it out, I notice my name written on its side.
I unroll it slowly with baited breath, trying to still my beating heart. It says:
"Draira,
If you are reading this now, then I presume that my time has come, and I hope the best luck has come to you. I congratulate you on figuring out the riddle I set up for you; you were always the smart one. I am so sorry I wasn't able to watch you grow up or help you through the troubles of life. It was my fault that the Hunters came to our island, my fault everyone was killed, and my fault that you never knew of your mother."
I take in an intake of air.
"Your mother and I were never meant to be. She had already one child, and I had two. Yet, beyond our wildest dreams, we ended up having you. She was named Valka, wife to Stoick the Vast of the Hooligan tribe and their son was Hiccup Haddock the Third."
Another intake of air. My eyes are practically bulging out of my sockets, and my brain hurts with this intake of new information.
"As we could never reveal what had happened to anyone but my wife and her husband, we decided to hide you once you were born with your mother telling her clan you died. I brought you to an island our Berserkers had recently discovered and colonized. My chief duties and my other children made it hard for me to pay attention to you which is why I put you under the care of Carn's father and why I made so many trips off the island."
I smile grimly, remembering asking my father why he always went away when I was younger.
"All I wanted was for you to live a simple and happy life, and I'm sorry I prevented that from happening. I have come to realize that you were right; dragons are amazing, kind creatures, and I hope you have kept that perk about you. Otherwise, I'm sure you are now a beautiful young lady, and I long to see you once again. Alas, it seems our fates will forever be separated. But, we are always connected by blood. Death will never break my love for you and your sweet, clear laughter.
With love,
'Daddy'"
A/N
Hello! How's it going! New chapter. In case you were wondering, the descriptions I provided are actually what is in Oswald's hut. (Well, maybe not the secret stone in the doorway...😁) Don't believe me? Go check it out!
Happy late Thursday/ early Friday!
-TheDragonGirl
YOU ARE READING
Through A Dragon's Eye (A Httyd Fanfiction)
Fan Fiktion-- Completed -- By the age of seven, Draira's home island had been destroyed and her family dead. She still isn't sure how she survived so long with no one but herself, but that may have something to do with the gaps in her memory. Ten years later...
