Edge of Memory

Chapter 15: Lines in the Sky

The wind on Dragon's Edge had always felt sharper at night. Salt-heavy, clean, honest in a way that cut through lies faster than a blade. But tonight, it didn't bring clarity.

Only silence.

You stood near the edge of the cliff, your boots anchored in the dirt though your mind drifted far beyond the waves. Voices called from behind—Astrid, Ruffnut, even Fishlegs—but they were like echoes from underwater. You heard them, and you didn't.

You were safe.

But you didn't feel it.

⸻

They welcomed you back like a storm survivor. Cheers. Smiles. A tight hug from Tuffnut that nearly knocked the wind from your lungs.

But your eyes stayed distant.

Because you had left Vox behind.

And Alek.

And somewhere between smoke and escape, you remembered your name.

You said it to yourself quietly that first night. Just to test how it felt in your mouth. It sounded distant. Worn down. Like it belonged to someone else.

Someone whole.

You weren't sure you were her anymore.

⸻

Toothless found you again the next morning. Sitting on the far slope beneath the trees, tracing a line into the dirt with a stick, over and over.

You didn't acknowledge him, but he didn't leave.

He just settled in beside you, big eyes watching.

You weren't sure what he saw. But part of you feared it.

Toothless huffed softly and nudged your arm. You flinched.

He pulled back immediately, then lowered his head beside your knee—offering something gentler than pity. Something... knowing.

That scared you more than being alone.

⸻

You didn't speak much the first two days.

Snotlout tried. Just once.

He came late in the afternoon, awkward and armor-clad like he was ready for a fight. But all he held was a plate of overcooked fish.

"I wasn't sure what you'd want," he said, standing a little too straight. "So I made the thing you used to complain about the least. Thought maybe that was a win."

You didn't answer.

He shifted, fidgeted. "You probably still don't want to see me. I mean, maybe you do. Or maybe you think I should've come sooner. Or later. I don't know."

He crouched to set the plate beside you. "It's probably cold already."

Then he stood, turning to leave. One step. Two.

"...Wait."

His boots stopped mid-crunch on the dirt.

You didn't lift your head. "Just... stay."

He turned slowly, voice softer now. "Yeah. Okay."

Snotlout sat beside you—carefully. He didn't press close. He didn't joke. He just... sat.

The wind curled around the two of you, gentle and cool.

After a while, you spoke. Quietly. "I don't feel like myself."

He didn't ask who that was supposed to be. He just nodded. "Yeah. I get that."

Minutes passed. The fish between you cooled, untouched.