Summary: While in search of a book containing the alchemical knowledge of The Last Dragonborn, Hiccup and friends stumble upon an extraordinary find in the form of an enchanted sword called Dawnbreaker; a sword that glows with the light of the dawn, and drives away the undead.

Meanwhile, a mysterious creature preys upon the citizens of Berk, killing a small boy, and laying Astrid low as the girl falls ill from a single wound on her shoulder from the creature's fang. Oswald the Agreeable believes that the creature is turning both the dead boy and Astrid into creatures known as Draugr, a flesh eating, blood drinking corpse risen from the dead.

His suspicions seem to be proven right when the boy's father finds that his son has disappeared from Gothi's medical hut, and of his own power. Now the race begins as Stoick sends Sneaky out on a mission to call for help while the hunt for young Henrik begins as Astrid grows ever weaker.

Warning: Chapter contains racial comments. No offense is intended by the author.

Falkreath

The Archmage

Sneaky's wings were tired and aching as he flew through the mist, following the scent of his target, faint though it was. But the little Terror was determined to follow through to the end of his flight. The only thing that mattered to him was finding the one called Hiccup, and bringing him back to Berk. The big man had told him that he could possibly save his mistress.

Primitive as his species had become, guilt was still an ever present emotion in all Dragons, large or small. Sneaky himself felt responsible for what was happening to her. A foul Magic was being cast over his mistress, he knew that all too well from the smell of her wound. When he had tried to clean it out, the noxious venom had burned his tongue so badly that no amount of water or ice could soothe it. It weakened him because it left him no way to eat.

But even though he suffered for her, his mistress was still suffering a much more horrible fate.

He could not let that happen.

As he flew, he finally passed through the mist and came out over a massive expanse of land covered in snow, and surrounded by mountains. Here the scent was strong, and easier to follow. And follow it he did.

His wings nearly gave out as he fluttered tiredly over an icy field of frozen sea water before he made landfall, just barely managing not to collapse once he found a safe perch upon a branch of a spruce tree.

In the distance he saw a large human dwelling he remembered was called a castle. It was there that the scent seemed the strongest, he also smelled food. Something he desperately needed. He dropped from the branch and glided toward the castle grounds, desperately searching.

His search was rewarded when he flew above the gates, and heard the clanging of metal against metal. A hammer against Steel. A forge!

Sneaky whizzed down toward the source of the noise and nearly blundered right into a rotten flag pole before he spotted his target, working diligently away on what looked like a ling blue stick. What humans called a spear.

He shrieked out a greeting toward him, causing the young blacksmith to look up. "What the -?"

"Sneaky!" Shouted a familiar Terrible Terror that Sneaky recognized. "Hiccup, this is the Terror that Astrid was training!" Sharpshoot said as Sneaky all but crashed into the ground in a heap in front of them. Hiccup dropped what he was doing and knelt next to him.

"He looks like he's in a bad way, too," the boy said as a warm glow encompassed his hands. Sneaky sighed as the glow warmed him and soothed his aching body of the strenuous flight. Next he heard the young man speak words he did not know and felt something change inside of him. He felt more alert. Alive. Whatever he had done to him, Sneaky liked it. "Can you tell me why you're here?"

Sneaky raised his head and...spoke. "I...I can...speak?" He said in disbelief. He shook his head and staggered to his feet, "What...what did you...how did you...?"

Hiccup smiled at the small Dragon, "I'm a Mage, or I will be. I'm almost half-way through my Apprentice level spell tomes."

Sneaky shook his head, "A Mage...I don't know what that means, but if you can make me talk, then maybe that's why the big man told me to come find you." He rasped, and reached around into his harness to pull out the scroll that Stoick had stuffed in it. "He told me to give you this, and bring you back."

Hiccup frowned at him as he took the scroll, rolled it open and paled as he read it.

{Hiccup,

I'm writing this to you in haste. Something terrible's happened and I don't know what to do to stop it. A beast unknown to us attacked and killed a child, and when we went out after it, it bit Astrid. Not a serious wound, but the creature had to have had poisonous bite Because she fell ill almost immediately. Gothi believes that she won't last long for the child didn't last the entire night before passing.

What's more is that Oswald the Agreeable believes that she and the boy that was killed will become Draugr. I cannot let that happen, Son, not when she's done so much for us with what you've taught her.

I know you may not believe you're worthy of return, but I need you, Son. Astrid needs you!}

"TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup roared, and ran for the castle, the two Terrors flying close behind him. Toothless met him half way and carried him the rest of the distance to the castle where he explained to both of his friends the reason of Sneaky's sudden arrival. Toothless didn't like it one bit.

"You're going back, right?" The Fury snorted, "You can't leave her like that!"

"Of course I am!" Hiccup groaned, "But I can't go! I mean Hiccup can't go! I mean - !"

"Hiccup!" Toothless snarled. "Dragons, any of our kind, value to lives of our mates. If it were me, I'd go, damn the consequences, and damn my fate! I'm still going with you either way because I like that girl almost as much as I value our friendship! She's a good mate for you, so don't you go losing your head now when you need it the most!"

Hiccup was startled, yet listened intently. His friend was right. He couldn't let Astrid die. "Okay...Okay!" He snapped, turning toward the castle, "Toothless go get the alchemy pack from my room. Take it down to the docks and put it on that long ship I repaired."

"Why don't I like the sound of that?" Toothless sighed, and bounded off while the human ran up into the library. Once inside he took out ever tome he could find about Draugr and Undead he could find. Including the book he'd found on Vampirism.

He then took hold of an old to throw over his shoulders, and grabbed a Quarter Staff he had crafted from Ebony to help him with his spell casting. "Alright, let's see if this works." He sighed, lifting the staff up and tapping it on the floor once. A flash of green Transmutation Magic washed over him. His form began to waver and change, growing taller and broader in the shoulders. His voice became deeper. His face grew stubble. His hair darkened to black and his eyes turned from their shades of forest green to a deep icy blue.

Swallowing hard, he strode to the window, looking at his altered face, "Greetings, Chieftain. I am Aragorn, the last Archmage of Skyrim."

Toothless huffed as he came through the doorway, "This is what you came up with?" He shook his head, "I think you should go back as yourself, not as some made up image created from this Magic."

Aragorn (Hiccup) sighed, "I'm going back to help her, but I can't risk them making me stay." He told the Dragon, "I've got too much more to learn from - "

"From books that can be brought with you," the Fury said, shaking his head, "But you'll do what you want to do. Now, let's go before you decide to turn me into a human."

Aragorn smiled, "That's the idea."

Toothless looked at his friend and began backing away, "You...you wouldn't!?"

The Mage held out his staff, "Hold still, I don't want to miss."

Toothless turned on his heels, and ran. "HELP!" He spread his wings, but not before he was hit with another blast of green. In an instant Toothless the Dragon was gone. His beautiful black scales turned to dark-toned skin. His wings and tail disappeared from sight.

Toothless stumbled on his two new human legs, and looked down at himself. "This is pushing the limits of our friendship, Hiccup!" The former Dragon growled, "This had better not be permanent!"

"Of course not," the altered Mage said, "It's just a simple Transmutation, nothing more than that. You'll be back to your old self when we come back."

Toothless shivered, "Shor's bones! I'm colder than when we were out in that snow storm!"

"Well, you're naked, so - "

Toothless frowned, "Right, human's wear clothes." He growled and trudged off, "Where did you put that armor? The stuff made from Dragon scales."

"You're really willing to wear that?" Aragorn asked, surprised, "I thought that you'd - "

"I'm used to wearing scales, remember?" Toothless said, "And I hope you've got an idea about how we're getting to Berk since I don't have my wings anymore!"

The Mage smiled, "I've got a few ideas about that." He said, "And Toothless, you'd better find a weapon."

"I miss my fangs already!"

H.T.T.Y.D

Astrid was fighting for her life. That was the only reason that Gothi could fathom that the girl remained alive for two days as she writhed on her cot. Heather and Ruffnut had been brought in to keep her company at times while her parents took short breaks, but they were never far.

In the mean time, Stoick, Hajvarr, and Dagur were searching for the missing body of Henrik to either bring him back for a proper burial, or put him to rest where he stood.

But the boy, or whoever had taken him, left no trail whatsoever to follow. "I don't understand it," Stoick said as they trekked through the forest surrounding the village, "Even an boy Henrik's size should leave footprints."

"Father once told me that Undead don't leave them," Dagur said, morbidly interested in what was happening. "But he was a little kid, right?"

Hajvarr nodded, "Aye, tiny thing he was." He said sadly, looking at the ground grimly, "What manner of creature takes a man's pride and joy only to stamp on it?"

"One that was not born of this world," Stoick muttered drawing a look from the two men, "If you'd seen the beast what killed him, Hajvarr, you'd think the same thing."

"And now it's trying to take Astrid," Dagur frowned, "Tell me, Stoick. Did Hiccup really fancy her?"

Stoick chuckled, "Aye, he did, fiercely at that. I think the only reason the two of them didn't say anything...Humph, you know I don't really know why they never said anything to each other."

Hajvarr let himself snort, "It's Hiccup, Stoick," he smiled sadly, "Lad overthought everything. We all know that."

Stoick nodded, his eyes on the ground. "Hmm, there's print here." He knelt down, carefully brushing away a few stray leaves, "Small. Definitely a child's."

Hajvarr stepped around the man and looked at the print, "That's...Aye, that's my Henrik. He's missing a toe. You see here?" He pointed to the missing digit, "Lost it due to a bit of frostbite he did."

Stoick sighed, shaking his head sadly, "Then there's no denying it." He stood, "The boy's not human anymore. He died in your arms, and rose not a day later. Question is, how do we deal with him?"

Hajvarr looked at his chief sadly, "You won't have to, Stoick." He said, "He's my son. I'll...I'll do what needs be done."

"I don't know if I'd even be strong enough to do what you're about to do," Stoick shook his head before reaching out to grasp the man's shoulder, "Gods be with you."

Hajvarr nodded, and stood up. Looking back at his chief, and the young heir of the Berserkers he turned on his heels and strode off into the forest.

Meanwhile, back in the village, Astrid was getting worse and worse.

"Please, Astrid, you have to eat something," Heather said softly to the young woman, "You'll only get weaker if you don't."

Astrid, her eyes black and sunken in, her skin a sickly grey felt her stomach churn at the very idea of food. "I'm sorry, Heather, but..." She clamped her mouth shut as bile began to rise. Ruffnut was quick to find and place a bucket within reach as the girl turned and vomited.

Heather sighed as she set the bowl of chicken broth down, "Just try to hold on." She pleaded, hating to see her friend in such a state, "Stoick's sent for help, so - "

Astrid moaned, "It would be kinder just to kill me." She muttered, "I don't want to turn into whatever Henrik did."

Ruffnut's hand itched to slap her, "Are you really okay with just giving up like that?" She demanded, "I ain't the smartest gal in the village, but I know enough to know that you would never just lay down and die."

Astrid pulled back the fur that was wrapped around her body, showing the two women her chest where the blackish veins had spread from her wound. "Why do you think I've lasted this long?" Astrid sighed, pulling the cover back up. "I don't want to die. I wanna live so I can punch my stupidly smart idiotic betrothed in the nose for leaving me behind."

Heather and Ruffnut giggled. "You really were sweet on him this entire time, weren't you?" Heather asked, "Father always had ideas about letting him marry me to form a stronger connection between our tribes, but I think I'd have a hard time competing with you of all people."

Ruffnut scoffed, "No competition at all," she said, grinning, "No offense Heather, but Hiccup's been moon-eyed over Astrid since we were little."

"More's the pity then, because I heard tell that he'd grown into quite a handsome young blacksmith." Heather giggled as she saw a bit of life returning to Astrid's features as they spoke about the boy.

Gothi returned then, frowning as she saw that the girl hadn't had a drop of the broth she had made for the girl, scratching as much on the floor. "Gothi says you should at least try to have some of the broth." Ruffnut said, "I know it'll probably come back up, but you need something."

Astrid nodded slowly whilst Heather took up the bowl. Ruffnut supported her head as Heather touched the bowl to her lips. "Ow." Astrid groaned as the lip of the bowl clicked against her teeth.

"Sorry." Heather frowned. She kept herself quiet as she and Ruffnut saw the girl open her mouth wider, drinking a small amount of the broth. Both of them taking note that the teeth the bowl had come up against were a small but growing pair of fangs protruding from her upper gums.

As soon as she'd taken a couple of swallows, however, she choked, "I'm sorry...ack...I...I can't - "

"It's okay, Astrid," Heather said, taking the bowl away from her and letting her rest. "You did your best."

Gothi scratched something on the floor, "She said her parents are here to take over." Ruffnut said whilst tucking the girl back in, "Guess we're being kicked out, huh?"

Heather nodded reaching out to pat Astrid's hair, "We'll come back in a little while."

Astrid didn't respond. Her pains were starting up again.

Ruffnut and heather lead each other out, passing Stenvar and Aranea Hofferson on the way out. They smiled silently at the two young women, unwilling to speak. The girls understood. "Is it me," Ruffnut whispered, "Or did Astrid suddenly grow a pair of snake fangs?"

"The red glow in her eyes is getting brighter, too." Heather sighed, "Whatever's happening to her, I don't think she's becoming a Draugr."

"Then what's going on?" The blonde frowned, "Like I said, I'm not the smartest in the village, but she looks - "

"Dead." Heather nodded in agreement, "But she's fighting it. I don't know how she's held on this long, honestly."

Ruffnut shook her head, "Stubbornness. Pure and simple." She said, glancing back at the hut, "But I envy her strength. I doubt anyone could put up with that for so long."

The warning horn sounded; three short blasts. A ship was coming into the harbor.

The two girls looked down toward the docks to see a massive long ship...setting itself down into the water. "What the name of -?" Heather breathed out as she spotted Stoick charging down toward the ship with her brother carrying their father on his back close behind him. Gobber was hobbling behind them as well while Spitelout sped passed him with his sword drawn. Behind him stumbled Snotlout.

"My eyes must be crazier than my head, cause I swear that ship was just floating a minute ago." Ruffnut rubbed her eyes.

"No, I think I saw it, too, unless your crazy's contagious." Heather said, frowning.

Ruffnut scoffed, "Can't be, I've been trying to convert the village since I was in swaddling...let's go check it out!"

Down at the dock, Stoick and Berserkers were awaiting the ship's occupants to disembark. Suddenly a little blue shape detached itself from the sails and whizzed down to the big man's shoulder. "Sneaky!" Stoick laughed, happy to see the little rascal. He looked up at the ship, "If you're here, then - "

Two shapes lept from the ship and landed heavily on the dock. Stoick turned to them with a huge grin...only to let it drop. Neither one of these strangers was his son.

One of them was a dark-skinned young man that he had never seen the likes of. He never knew that a man could be near black such as this fellow was. His hair was even darker, and bound in thick braids around his head. He wore an armor of grey-green Dragon scales. He carried a mace made of a black metal that seemed like a broken piece of midnight itself.

The other was strange, but only because he was so slight. He was tall, he supposed, but not to Viking standards. He wore no armor, just robes and a cloak around his shoulders. The only weapons he carried seemed to be a quarter staff that was made from the same metal that the other's mace was made from, and what looked like a sword wrapped at his waist.

"Hale, Strangers," Stoick said, overcoming his disappointment. "What brings you to Berk's shores?"

The cloaked man stepped forward. "I'm surprised that you did not ask about my ship, Chieftain." He said, his voice deep and foreign, "We did just float into you harbor."

Stoick shook his head, "Strange things are happening on my island, but I believe even stranger things happen beyond these waters," he said, "But you have yet to answer my question. And given that you're in the company of this little rascal, then I know for a fact that you know a young man named Hiccup."

"I do, and it was he that sent us here," the stranger said, "I am Aragon, the last Archmage of Skyrim." He said with a bow of his head. "You son came to my shores a month and two weeks past, and has been learning my craft."

Spitelout, having heard him, spat, "Mage? You mean a witch?"

"Wrong," Aragorn said, "Witches tend to practice darker arts than what I am having young Hiccup study such as Necromancy, and summoning otherworldly creatures. My Magic revolves around offensive spells, yes, but I also practice healing spells, which is why I am here." He reached into his cloak and produced a letter, "Hiccup himself wrote this letter of introduction to you, his father, so that you would believe my words. If you do not, then the one called Astrid will die."

Stoick took the letter, breaking the wax seal, and read.

Spitelout, his eyes never leaving the two strangers, gripped his sword tightly. There was something about the one called Aragorn that he did not like. Something familiar. And the fact that he openly admitted to using Witchcraft set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. Then there was the big one. The black one. No normal man could have such dark skin and not be touched by some sort of evil force. Bad enough that his brother was allowing the Hofferson girl to keep a Dragon, small as it was, but to even consider allowing these two -

Stoick folded the letter, "I welcome you to Berk, Aragorn. You, and your companion." He nodded to the dark man. "Or doesn't he speak?"

"I do," the man rumbled, almost like a growl but it was not an aggressive tone. It almost sounded amused, "You may call me Vulon Nah." He smiled, showed stark white teeth that gleamed against his dark lips, "I'm actually a close friend of your son's."

Stoick seemed to brighten at this, "How is he?"

Vulon grinned widely, "He has become a rather adept Mage. I think you would be proud."

Aragorn gave the dark man a look. [Really, Toothless?]

Vulon returned the look. [Payback for turning me into a two-leg.]

Stoick rumbled out a laugh, "I think you an I should talk more over a few mugs of mead." He smiled, nodding to the dark man, then turned to the Archmage, "And you're right, Master Aragorn. We're wasting time. Come."

The chief and Archmage wasted no more time as the two strode into the village. The Jorgenson father and son duo growled at the ready admittance of the foreigners into their village had the elder Jorgenson on edge, and ready to take action, while the younger Snotlout...

"Where do you get off coming here and throwing your weight around like some big shot?" Snotlout demanded of the dark man, Vulon. He strode right up to the man, who was quite a bit taller than the young Viking, even though Vulon (Toothless) knew that they were the same age. "Did you kill a Dragon to get this armor? Or did you scare it to death with your unnatural black skin?"

Vulon turned his acid green eyes on the shorter boy and growled, "My mother had black skin, and so did my father, and his father before him," Vulon sneered, reaching for his mace, "Do you really want to trade blows with someone that came here to help you, boy?"

"We don't need your kind's help." Snotlout said haughtily, reaching for his own weapon.

Gobber, having arrived late thanks to his leg, stumped forward and shoved the boy out of his way, "You need to shut yer gob before I shut it for ya, Snotbrat!"

Snotlout took offense, "What'd you call me - geh!" Gobber rounded on him, his axe-hand coming up under his chin.

"Shut. Up. Now." Gobber growled, "Astrid is dying. Our finest warrior is dying. These two came here to help because Hiccup asked them to, and you want them to leave just because you don't like the color of one of their skins?"

Spitelout chose to intercede on his son's behalf. "Now, Gobber, Hiccup had no right to - "

"And who are you to decide?" Gobber spun and pointed axe at the man, "You may think you're the chief, but you're not. And your son will never be chief because of this right here!" He pointed to Volun. "Scared of a man just because his skin's a different color, FAH! I've seen men with skin as dark, if not darker than his. Others with skin the color of copper. He's a man just like any other out there, or right here."

Volun nodded his thanks to the crippled warrior, "Thanks for that." He said, frowning at the two Jorgensons. He crossed his arms, "If this is what my friend had to deal with, then it's no wonder that he left."

Gobber sighed and turned to the young man, "Aye, I can't help but agree." He smiled sadly, "If ya don't mind me askin', how did the two of ya meet?"

Volun shrugged, "I was injured in...battle, and Hiccup healed me." He said, then shook his head, "Well, that is the partial truth. I had lost my leg when he and I met, and we traveled together to Skyrim. There he learned to heal and...gave me back my leg." He held out his armor clad leg.

To Volun (Toothless), it wasn't exactly a lie. Without his tail fin, he couldn't fly and after Hiccup and used a Regeneration spell to grow it back, he was his old self again.

Gobber looked at the man strangely for a moment, "Can your friend really help our Astrid?"

Volun nodded, "He can, and he will."

Sharpshooter flew down from the ship, then, and landed on Volun's shoulder. Volun looked at him and shook his head. [No talking.]

Sharpshooter nodded in understanding.

Gobber chuckled when he saw the little Terror, "Well, if it isn't the little rascal the brought me my smithing books." He smiled, "Come on, I'll be willing to bet that you're both hungry."

Sharpshooter let out a chirp. Volun just nodded, "I could eat."

H.T.T.Y.D

To anyone that looked at him, Aragorn seemed cold and calm as anyone would think a Mage would be, but on the inside Hiccup Horrendous Haddock was sweat worse than when he, Astrid and Toothless ventured into the Nest. Even in his altered state, his father seemed like a giant among men. He always had been. What was worse was the feeling of fear he was getting from the village itself as they made their way to Gothi's hut.

"Why does a cloud of dread hang over the village?" Aragorn asked, keeping up his act as an Archmage. "Has this situation really brought the morale so low?"

Stoick grunted, "It has, friend." He said, "I'm sure my son told you of his tricks he used against the Dragons, and the shame he felt in doing so," the Mage nodded, feeling a pit forming in his stomach, "Astrid used those very same tricks to drive the beasts away, and they've left us alone ever since. She even trained that little rascal, Sneaky, to find people." He stopped and turned to the Archmage, "And she's made it a point to let everyone know that it was my own son that taught her how to use these tricks to drive them off." He sighed, "They accepted this, aye, but to them, it was Astrid that saved us all, not my son...but I could not be more proud of that boy than I was the day he was born."

Inside, Hiccup swallowed down a huge lump in his throat. "He thinks of you often, if that eases your mind." Aragorn said.

"Aye, that it does," the man said, "And, if you should return to his studies, you should tell him that I've betrothed him to Astrid."

[What?!] Hiccup shouted internally.

"Truly?" Aragorn tried to sound amused. "I'm sure he'll be very...pleased about that."

Stoick chuckled, "She's sweet on the lad. I can tell that much by how much she talks about him at times. And how she's been training Sneaky here." He said as the little Dragon chirped. "I also hope he's been a fine student of yours?"

"He's a fine apprentice," Aragorn said, hoping not to have sounded arrogant or proud of himself. "He focuses mainly on healing Magic, or Restoration and Altercation. He can easily turn normal stone into Iron, and that into Silver."

Stoick raised his brow in surprise, "Yes, well, I think we should - "

"Of course," Aragorn nodded quickly, "M'lady awaits."

It wasn't until Stoick chuckled that he realized that he'd let slip a near damning clue. "Y'know, my son used to call Astrid 'M'lady' all the time." He laughed as they continued up the hill, "She won't admit it, but she always loved when he did that."

"I'll try to curb my tongue." Aragorn said, "Wouldn't want to upset the girl." He frowned, tongue in cheek, "Er, what can you tell me of the creature that caused this illness in her?"

They began their ascent up to Gothi's hut, "At first, Oswald, a fellow chieftain of the Berserker tribe, thought that the killing of young Henrik was done by some sort of corpse creature our people call a Draugr. But they are known for both eating flesh, and drinking the blood of those they kill before the victim turns into one of them. But when Henrik was brought in, he was just barely alive with only a bite on his neck. He had been nearly drained of blood from what Gothi told us after his passing, and we set out after the beast that did the killing. Sneaky here led the charge by sniffing the beast out under Astrid's command, but when we found the fiend, it was hiding in the trees."

"When it was flushed out, we found out that the creature was not a Draugr, but some sort of giant bat." Aragorn looked at him sharply, "Aye, I know it sounds fantastic, but the beast was just as I said. Stood upright it did, and even looked at us as food for a time until we took it down. It was Astrid that ended the beast, too. Took its head clean off with a swing of her axe. But not before it took a bite out of her."

"Hence the reason for her sickness," Aragorn frowned, thinking. "Chieftain, I believe I know what afflicts her. In Skyrim there are many creatures that would seem fantastic to most, even though Dragons dot the skies. One of them, one I thought long extinct, is the Werebat. A creature created by beings known as Vampires."

"Werebat?" Stoick asked as they came up to the hut, "Is that anything like a wolf-headed man?"

"Indeed, but this creature is a guardian of its creator, and remembers nothing of its human life," he went on, "What's more, being in such close proximity to their wards, they tend to be carriers of the same disease that creates Vampires. Blood drinkers to you an me."

Stoick paused outside the door, "And...how long...how long does the infected have?"

"Three days, four if they're strong and fight it off," he said, "This would be the dawning of the third day given she was bitten mere hours before your little Sneaky found us."

Sneaky squeaked, keeping himself silent.

"What about young Henrik? He was bitten and turned within the span of a day?" Stoick asked.

Aragorn had no answer, "Skyrim is long bereft of people due to a great war. With no one to feed on, the Vampires either died out, or moved on to greener pastures." He said, "I'm afraid I can only guess that since they are an Undead creature, Henrik's death triggered the change earlier than it would have if the disease was left to run its course."

"Then there's no more time to delay," Stoick thundered as he threw the door open, "Stenvar, Aranea, Gothi! I've brought help!"

Aragorn entered the hut. He followed the chief back into the sick bay, and all of his acting fell away. Astrid was surrounded by her parents and Gothi as he strode into the room. He saw their mouths moving, but he did not hear them. All he heard was the whimpering of the girl bundled up in furs, and the clack of his staff as it hit the floor.

He didn't know it, but his hands and staff had already begun to glow with his Restoration Magic. The sight of the hardened proof of his Magic was enough to stun even the chief as the man marched past him. Stenvar and Aranea moved away from the bed as Gothi inclined her head toward the Mage. She knew good when she saw it.

Astrid, her face strained and laced with pain, could barely open her eyes and golden glow blinded her, rendering her unable to see who was standing above her. The Mage reached down with his right hand, moving the furs away from her shoulders to bear the wound on her neck.

That same hand glowed fiercely with light as he pressed his palm against the wound. Astrid screamed then, the spell burning away the sickness that was overtaking her.

He heard Stenvar and Aranea shouting in the background, but trusted his father and Gothi to keep them back long enough for his spell to work its wonders. It wouldn't cure her of the disease, but it would buy her more than enough time for him to brew a potion that would. The blackened veins began to recede toward his palm, and her pale complexion began to bright. Her eyes lost their unnatural glow.

Finally, the wound on her shoulder knit itself closed and disappeared, not even a scar remaining.

Aragorn took his hand away, the glow fading to nothing as he leaned on his staff. [Pathetic! I can float a ship across an ocean, and turn a Dragon into a human, but I can't even use one Restoration spell without collapsing!]

"Aragorn!" Stoick took him by the shoulders and led him to an empty cot, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," the man nodded, "That...just took more out of me that I thought it would. The infection was stronger than I realized."

Stenvar stood over his daughter in worry, "Did it work, then? Is she cured?"

"No." All eyes turned to Aragorn, "I've bought her time. By the time the infection returns, I should have prepared a potion that will destroy the disease completely." He said, looking at the girl, "You should let her sleep for now. I doubt that it's been easy on her."

Aranea stepped forward and laid a kiss against his brow, "Even if it's just a small amount of time, thank you on my daughter's behalf."

Aragorn shook his head, "Do not thank me," he said, blushing internally, "We still have the unpleasant task of finding the boy that turned."

"His father is out looking for him as we speak," Stoick said, frowning when the man looked at him with disapproval, "Do you not think he can handle it?"

"Could you kill your own son?" Aragorn countered. "A Vampire is ten times more powerful in strength alone than a mortal man. Even as a child, Henrik could rip his father to pieces if he didn't drain him dry. Young, newly turned Vampires are the worst at controlling their thirst for blood, and Henrik is a child. He'll be acting mostly on instincts."

Stoick paled, "I've left him to his death."

"Or undeath," Aragorn quipped sourly. "I know a few spells that would destroy a Vampire, but I'm not overly good at them, extinct as I thought they were." He reached for the wrapped blade at his side, "But I do have something else that may prove useful." He held it out to the chief, "Give this to your finest warrior."

Stoick snorted, and jerked his thumb at the girl asleep only a few feet away. "She's right there, and I believe she prefers axes."

"Let me take it then," a voice said from behind them.

Aragorn turned to find a familiar old friend standing at the door with his sister. Dagur looked excited in a way that showed his berserker blood beneath the surface, but also determined. "I may not be as good as Astrid, but I know how to use a sword if that's what that is."

The Archmage nodded, and pushed himself up off of the cot using his staff. Dagur, seeing his weak condition, came forward quickly to help him. He needn't have as Stenvar and Stoick steadied the man. Aragorn looked at the young Berserker, "Think carefully, friend, because this is no simple blade." He began unwrapping the sword, and the bright glow of the jeweled hilt flooded the room once more with light. The blade was thin, and glowed like fire, the strange ruins down the center of the blade glowing brighter than sunlight. "This is the blade known as Dawnbreaker. I know very little of its purpose, but I know that having this sword means that you are the enemy of all things dark and unnatural in the world. Undead will fear you, perhaps even come for you in fear of this blade."

"Then let them." Dagur said, "I'm not afraid. I'm never afraid."

Aragorn (Hiccup) could only smile as he remembered Dagur saying something similar when they were children. "Then it is yours."

Dagur smiled and took hold of the blade, the jewel above the cross guard glowing ever brighter.

H.T.T.Y.D

Hiccup will encounter his first Daedric Prince in the next chapter.

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