How to Train Your Dragon - Traitor Among Them

Chapter 2 - The Dragon Rider

Lyra saw the terrible terror coming, and a sinking feeling settled in her gut. She had tried to outrun or hide from him before, but he always managed to find her. He certainly wasn't intimidated by Enya. She had nicknamed him "Bringer of Bad", which shorted to Bob. The terrible terror seemed to like the name despite its negative intentions, and he was incredibly affectionate towards Lyra, much to her annoyance. He had nearly reached her, and with a sigh Lyra moved from behind the tree. Her dragon merely opened her eyes at hearing the familiar, frantic beat of wings. Enya went back to resting, a pleasant patch of sunlight hitting her deep red and black scales. Bob landed on Lyra's outstretched hand and flapped his glee, squawking.

"What horrible news have you brought me today?" Lyra asked, removing the scroll from his leg.

Bob cocked his head and flew to the nearest tree branch, waiting patiently for her to finish reading and write a reply. Lyra hesitated a moment, setting her unfocused eyes in the distance and thinking, even though she knew thinking would not cause the scroll to evaporate. Finally, she opened the scroll. The writer's handwriting was sloppier than normal, which only added to the urgency. She opened her mouth to read it out loud.

"I know where you are. You can keep running, but I assure you there aren't enough archipelagos in this world to truly hide you. You and your friends and family had a sense of false security before; don't make that mistake again. You have disappointed your ancestors. You could have been capable of so much more. Your mother understands what is at stake. When will you? There is nothing left for you, and anybody you attempt to befriend will only suffer the consequences. What I ask of you is simple. You know what true pain feels like; therefore, I have confidence in you. We will meet again soon."

Tears welled in Lyra's eyes, and she lifted her head quickly to pull back a wave of emotion. It tugged at her heart, and quick sobs escaped her. That was as far as she would let it overtake her, and she pursed her lips. Her jaw went tight as she crumpled up the scroll and tossed it with all her might. Bob playfully dove from his perch to fetch it, and a yell broke past Lyra's lip. Enya's head shot up, and she watched Lyra carefully. Overwhelmed, Lyra pressed her palm to her forehead and crouched low, memories drifting through her mind.

She saw a woman in the woods, and the woman reached for her sword at the sound of someone approaching. It was impossible to discern the look of shock and worry on the intruder's face, but the woman recognized the approaching figure. Who wouldn't recognize their daughter, even in dim moonlight? The woman was older, with deep brown eyes and wavy, dark hair in a low bun. The only characteristics her daughter shared were similar facial features and a shorter height, as well as her stubbornness and a passionate heart. Her mother had always been cautious and logical. And yet, there was no denying the presence of a thin-bodied dragon with large, butterfly-like wings, lingering close to a basket of food, which the daughter assumed her mother brought. The deathsong – for that was what it was – eyed her mother's hand and backed up, a small piece of meat in its mouth.

"Mom," said a quiet voice, her voice. "What are you doing?"

"They need our help, and we need theirs. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement, some just don't have the eyes to see it."

"But you said we take care of our own, now. You said we can't trust anyone or anything. We can't go back to our roots!" Lyra cried, and her mother's eyes studied her in deep regret.

"I've taught you fear, and I'm sorry. Help me change things, Lyra," her mother coaxed, and Lyra's mind reeled in confusion.

The deathsong surveyed the basket for another sliver of meat, and Lyra stepped further. Her mother sighed quietly in relief and placed a hand on Lyra's shoulder when she was near enough. The deathsong crouched, turning its head to peer at Lyra. Lyra returned its gaze, then gasped when the dragon's wings outstretched as far as they could go, and a roar shattered the silence. Immediately Lyra drew her weapon and pulled away from her mother, tripping over her feet. She fell backwards with a grunt.