I am sorry for this insanely long wait. I did not have a break between essays, presentations, and tests. Now that I have a bit of time, I hope that you all enjoy the conclusion of this story.

Glowering in all of her ferocious glory was Cachée. As quickly as she had appeared, she vanished. The reptile serpentined back and forth between the crevices and open space. After doing a backflip while kicking a hunter, Mala ran over to Eerika. She frowned at the chains and glanced about for Neilson, trying to find the keys. The young viking was nowhere to be seen. "Stay still." Mala instructed, drawing her sword. Swiftly, she cut the chains from their center. Helping her daughter stand, Mala brought Eerika outside of the cave. The last remnants of the hunters were taken out by Dagur and Cachée. The chief slashed the throat of a large viking that had charged at him and threw a dagger into an attempted dragon harpooner's chest. Despite the larger numbers of hunters, the pair's rage acted as the best arsenal they could have asked for. Five hunters surrounded Cachée and Dagur, respectively. Seeing this, the Stealthgazer blasted several and tried to shoot the rest. She stopped, realizing that her strike limit had been reached. Quickly, she began to force the other hunters back into a wall. Once she had them there, her eyes began to alternate between shades of violet and lavender. The hunter's stern glowers turned blank and their knees went out from underneath them. While they fell to the ground, Dagur watched as the dragon acted as though nothing strange had occurred. Shaking off the new skill, the two rushed out to see Eerika.

Though the king wanted to embrace Eerika, he did not trust himself enough to be able to not cause the princess harm. Before Dagur could be happy, he noticed that Neilson's corpse was not nearby. "He has escaped." the queen told him, knowing what had provoked the chief's distressed expression. "We'll find him, but let's get Eerika home first." Dagur said, moving towards their vessel. Mala and Eerika got onto Cachée's back while Dagur began to navigate the ship back to their island. Gently, the Stealthgazer took to the sky and started soaring. A mild breeze blew in the air. It was soothing to Eerika and she closed her eyes, listening to the sounds that the wind carried. Doing this, the heiress heard a peculiar noise. The sounds of angry grunts filled her ears and Eerika turned to look behind them. Practically hidden by the brush, Neilson had a dragon root tipped arrow, readied for firing. Just as his fingers traced alongside the bow, Eerika grasped her knife from behind her back and threw the weapon. Speeding through the sky, sharp metal made contact with Neilson's jugular. Some gurgling ensued before the viking slumped down to the ground. Eerika realized that she had been holding her breath and released a sigh of relief.

Decades passed and several small vikings scurried around a hut. The little ones laughed as they play fought, regularly bringing talk of dragons into the mix. "Lava attack!" the smallest of the kids shouted, excitedly. The other two shook their heads, reprimandingly. "No, you said that you were a Razor Whip. They don't have lava." From this disagreement, a physical fight broke out. Two older vikings peeked their heads into the room. "Okay, okay, settle down. If you want to throw punches, you need to have good forms while doing so." The woman demonstrated how to do so with the male viking. Stopping, the kids nodded, "Okay, Mom." With a slightly improved technique, the trio continued their battle. The dark haired man chuckled, "At least they have someone to teach them how to beat each other down...the right way." They watched as their children tossled and rolled into another room. This room had an older couple, one practicing fencing moves and another sharpening a blade. When the kids rolled into the older man's leg, they stopped, "Sorry, Grandpa." they said, in unison. Their grandfather was unfazed and smiled, broadly, "You've all got the aggression, but you're using it against the wrong people."

"Do you have another story about battling?" a bright eyed, red haired child inquired. "Do I?" A deranged twinkle shone in the eyes of the young girl's grandfather. Her grandmother smirked, "Do not encourage him. You might have grandchildren of your own by the time he is finished with that topic." The greying,

but still fit viking pulled up some chairs and gestured towards them, "What era are you looking for this time? Heroic tales of your great uncle Hiccup and the Berkians? The changing of alliances for the Outcasts? Vicious dragon hunters and a traitorous trader? Maybe the fantastic deeds of your mother?" Excitement was audible in his voice as he thought of sharing these details of history with the youth. Hearing him, their parents entered. "Dad, why don't you tell them stories about you and Mom? You always talk about everyone else, but I remember being fascinated with tales of what you two had done." Her husband nodded, wrapping an arm around the young queen, "They ask about your adventures a lot." The grandmother agreed with that, "Eerika and Mathias have a point, they should hear about their grandparents and who better to tell them, than you and I?" Dagur stroked his beard, thoughtfully, and gave a short laugh, "Fair enough. We should start at the beginning with how we met." He dramatically cleared his throat and started to set the scene. "So, there was the Dragon Eye and its lenses, but also a need to have a hiding spot. Your grandmother and I were at the top of the list for people to be in charge of it, but we were a bit less than friends in the beginning. Because of this, the twins..."