Hello, welcome to this, the prequel to The Viking and the Night Fury. This story will tell of the beginnings of the Dragon/Viking War, the birth and rule of the Red Death and the young lives of Valka and her friends on Berk. Hopefully, this prequel will only last seven chapters and once finished, the next act will continue. The story will also introduce an aspect that will play further into the continuation of TVATNF, which is that Hiccup contains a dragon's spirit and can morph to become it. The dragon used is not of the series or franchise, it's something I imagined as an antithesis of the Night Fury, as having Hiccup's soul being one would be too convenient. This story will contain references to the films as well as from the television series. This story, like TVATNF, is a Fem!Hiccup tale. Rating to be posted as M for violence and mention of blood. Posting this fan fiction 8-6-2014. Thank you & please enjoy.

…

Within the dwellings of a dormant volcanic island, a mother awaits the hatching of her first-born. For many moons, she patiently waited, looking over her egg and whispering to it words of good fortune and grace. Finally, she'd now have her little angel by her side.

Here, she ruled as queen of Dragon Island, looking over the many dragons that lived on its surface. She ruled justly, never cruel to her kind or those of distant hives. Her reign as monarch of the island would one day come to an end and in due time, her heir would take her place and rule with the same integrity and benevolence she'd pass on.

As the first cracks began to form on the shells surface, she cooed lovingly to the arrival of her child. Many of dragons gathered to witness the birth of their future sovereign, watching as the giant teal egg vibrated in the red lava below.

After several shakes and shoves, the top of the shell split open, revealing the head of a new Green Death. His six crimson eyes slowly opened one at a time, gazing at the world around him. The stone walls held a red glow as the smell of fire and brimstone soaked the air. Once this vision cleared, he saw his mother for the first time.

She gazed down to her young one, love in her six blue eyes for her prince. "Hello there, my son, my little prince," she purred leaning down to rub his snout with hers.

Staring into his mother's eyes, he felt something deep inside. However, the feelings weren't those of love or affection. What lay inside was a wicked, wild impulse of pure hatred for the being before him. He's insides burned with the odor of her presence, a mixture of ash and salt.

This was the creature whom never stopped talking, always saying how wonderful and fair he'd be once brought to this world. Her words of kindness and love only seemed to harden his heart and soul into bitterness and wrath. An urge crept within him, he didn't know who this creature thought she was and to be honest he didn't care. She called him a prince, an angel, a blessing. If being those things would make him like her, soft and weak, he refused to be those words.

He wanted to be a god.

A low tremble rose from his throat as she pulled back to gaze at her child once more, and without warning, widened his jaws and lunged forward from his shell onto her bare belly and began clawing and tearing at her flesh. A surge of brutal agony swept her core as her child began to gnaw her flesh away. Desperately she tried to pull him away from her stomach, only to have his razor-like claws and fangs dig deeper and forcefully cut out at her skin. She let out a pleading cry as she was slowly being eaten alive by her own flesh and blood.

The gathering dragons watched in terror as their prince gorged at his mother's entrails before taking action. Nadders and Nightmares began to dive down to pry the newborn from its mother. Unfortunately, with him latched onto her, any attempt to separate them would result in more pain for their queen and burning him would only do damage to her exposed guts. With heavy hearts, they could only listen as their kind ruler screamed in anguish till her body could handle no more and collapsed of exhaustion, still alive as her child bathed in her blood.

He kept her alive for days, slowly eating her insides and relishing in the sound of his mother's pleading words and begging for mercy. This control he possessed, he enjoyed, nay lusted. When he finally hollowed out her stomach, he took to her still beating heart and ripped it out by force, feeling it pulsate before flattening between his jowls. A malevolent grin cloaked his fangs as more of her blood blanketed his body.

The queen died that day, with love for her young one still in her heart…

He let out a low echoing roar inside his mother's gouged body, the vibration rattling the volcanos walls as well as the surface of the island. All dragons within a hundred mile radius heard the bellow, a shudder of fear shivering down their spines. The dragons within the enclosed volcanic lowered their heads in remorse as did the frightened dragons in the forest and skies surrounding the island.

A new reign had begun as the four day old dragon emerged out of his mother's throat, covered in a thick layer of her dried blood. The dawn of the Red Death began…

…

The scent of sea breeze and cool western wind blanket the mainland as waves bounce off the cliffed coast, spraying the peaceful land of mist and evergreen by the sea. Here, creatures go about their daily lives in comfort, the skies grey and beautiful as the morning sun rises, glowing brightly from a break in the clouds. The soil here is fertile and full of nutrients with large oaks, pines and birches covering the forest landscape. Cool autumn winds brush the tips of the branches, rustling the reddening leaves off to the soft moss and short meadows.

Man and dragon share this world, although in separate realms. Man take to the cliff side shores where they make their villages and fish along the coastlines. Dragons keep to the evergreens, where they roam the further reaches of the mainland. This still, is a land of hardships and troubles for both creatures.

Man must deal with the occasional water dragons and sea serpents as they tug away at their nets and fish. Dragons are at constant risk of poachers and hunters who take their skins as well as many of their kind leaving many at the risk of extinction.

Occasionally, both meet and disagree on things, but for the most part they tolerate each other.

On a high cliff overlooking the horizon, a wingless wolf-like dragon with short downy cinereous-grey fur listens closely as the atmosphere slowly turned heavy. Narrowing his eyes, he heeded the faint sounds of aggressive beating in the air. He wasn't too sure what it was but it seemed like trouble to him.

"Up early as usual, huh, brother?" a Storm Cutter yawned laxly as he landed besides his flightless companion.

"You feel that?" the smaller dragon asked.

Sensing the environment, the Storm Cutter admitted to feeling nothing. "I'm a Storm Cutter, not a Mist Runner. I can't pick up on these things you know."

"There's a heavy pressure drop thirty degrees from here and the winds are picking up speed, unusual for this time of year. We'll be expecting heavy rain today but this isn't the same type of gravity associated with weather, this seems wild." The Mist Runner kept his emerald eyes to the horizon, hoping to be proven wrong, he didn't need trouble today.

"Right, I'll send word out to keep a sharp eye in the sky. How's your mate?" the Storm Cutter tilted his head in curiosity.

"About ready to conceive. To be honest, brother, I'm nervous. What if I can't be the father my pup needs? I think of how my father raised me and hope to be as great as half the Runner he was," he gave a heavy sigh. "It's just us now...we're the last Mist Runners around, maybe even on the planet. I just want a bright future for my young."

"Runner, you'll be a great dad to your pup. Look at me, I've got seven hatchlings on the way with my gal and you're worried about one. If having you as the Alpha has taught me anything, it's that you're capable of more than you imagine, for a flightless dragon that is." The Storm Cutter held one of his wings over the Mist Runner. "And you won't be alone in this, brother, you know us Storm Cutters and Mist Runners stick together, we're family."

"Hmm, thank you, Storm. That means a lot to me." The Runner said before the sound of shallow calls echoed in the air. "Oh great…" he scowled under his breath.

Turning his head around, the Cutter gave out a heavy breath before tucking his wing back. "Well look what the cat dragged in…" he growled as three dark figures flew down to the cliff where the Runner and Cutter stood.

"Save us your snide remarks, owl face," the lead panther-like dragon snapped. "Mist Runner," he spoke with certain disdain.

"Night Fury," the Runner matched in a loathing tone.

"Word in the sky is the humans are colonizing further into the Evergreen," the Night Fury smoothly said, extending his powerful black wings. "We don't take very kindly to trespassers."

"They'll be nowhere near your domain, you Night Furies live on the mountains," the Storm Cutter lifted himself high looking down to the smaller jet dragon.

"So we just wait till they get closer and take our land like they're taking yours?" one Fury in the back asked.

"Who'd want to live on your frozen wasteland anyways, kitty-cat?" the Cutter shot back, a sly smirk on his face knowing he pushed their buttons.

"You want to take this in the clouds, Cutter!?" the other Fury interjected, baring her fangs and retracting her claws, both sizing each other up for a fight.

"Enough," the Mist Runner spoke softly, but his voice was firm and authoritative. "I understand your concern, Fury, and I'll see what can be done to prevent your homes from being taken."

"That's it!? You of all dragons should despise them the most. They take your habitat and brethren Runners for pelts and yet you still defend them. Think of your mate and future pup, Runner…" the male Fury in the back began before being stopped by his leader.

"That's enough!" he turned over to the Mist Runner, his serpentine eyes staring into his of peridot. "We'll see how things turnabout. Friendly tip, hunter tracks have been spotted on the east side of the green. Be alert." And with that, the Night Furies soared off back to their homes.

"Pricks," the Storm Cutter cursed under his breath.

"They don't mean harm, Cutter, they're just on edge. Once we Runners die out, it'll only be a matter of time before they'll be hunted down," walking forward, the Mist Runner made his way into the forest, being stopped by a Timberjack.

"Viking children spotted in the southern green, sir," she lowered her head to her Alpha.

"I'll lead them back to their village, tell as many as you can rain will be upon us soon and to take shelter. Thank you," he responded before swiftly racing through the forest like an arrow.

…

From the forest, a group of young children exited, all racing to the clearing near a house by the tree line with bright smiles on their faces, panting heavily with leaves and twigs stuck to their clothing.

"How many times have I told you kids to stay out of the woods before a thunderstorm?" a woman hanging laundry on the line calls out to them as they smiles cheerfully. "Get inside," she points to the front door of the house. Reluctantly, one of the children, her son, marches to the entrance of his house, turning back to wave farewell to his friends, as they all race home to their own mothers. Before closing the door, he looks to the forest and wave goodbye to their guide home.

"Shoo, dragon, shoo! Go on now!" the mother swipes away the Mist Runner with a straw broom. She pushes a small puff of dirt to his face, causing him to sneeze away the dust trapped in his nostrils before darting further into the forest.

"They mean no harm, dear, let them be," her husband and chief of the tribe puffed as he chopped at logs of wood.

"We shouldn't encourage their presence here, dear. What next, we'll be inviting them into our homes and giving them belly rubs?" she snorted as she placed the broom down and continued to hang the laundry. "I swear, dear, one of these days…"

"I know, 'They'll come for our heads'…," he reached out for her hands, placing his axe down. "For now, we're all at peace. Bad things only happen to dragon hunters and we don't hunt dragons here. It's worked for centuries and it will continue to work as long as we all stay the course."

She sighed with a weak smile on her face. "I know...I just can't shake this feeling that something bad is soon to come..."

He smiled back to his wife as a fisherman came by. "Chief, the ships are in with the catch."

"Excellent, I'll be there shortly," he turned over to him then back to his wife. "There's nothing to be afraid of my dear, everything is fine." He pecked her cheek lovingly before making his way to the pier.

As he walked through his village, the laughter of children filled the air as they chased after geese and the smell of freshly baked bread trailed and mixed with the briny odor of sea grass drying on poles. The sound of cattle bells chimed around as a herd of sheep and oxen were moved about to the right side of the community.

His people were safe, as they were when his father was chief and his father was chief. It was a good feeling.

Making it to the ships, he greets everyone by name, a big smile on his dark-bearded face. "How was the catch?" he asked as the fishermen aboard the vessels began unloading their filled baskets to the docks.

"Smooth as usual, a little windy today but when Odin wants wind, he gives us wind," a fishermen with blonde hair chuckled, the woven basket on his head shaking slightly.

"And the dragons?" he asked as he hoisted four baskets over his broad shoulders.

"A few Sea Shocker and a Scaludron or two, but other than that, no trouble. It's getting a bit tedious when the fellas want a game of tug of war with the nets," the helmsman said, carrying the tangled mess of webs to the seamstresses for more mending.

"Ha-ha! I'm sure it's nothing you men can't handle," the chief smirked as he placed the loads of fish onto the carts for all to share.

The skies soon began to blacken, and normally this was to come when thunderstorms were to pass, however…these weren't those clouds that darkening the heavens. A humming sound engulfed the air, making it feel dense.

Something wasn't right.

Almost as if a bad omen was sent to them by Thor himself, ominous shadows cloaked the waters and land over the mainland coast. Looking up, the merry people of the mainland, from the far northern mountains to the far southern reaches of the grasslands, gazed at the unholy mass of dragons, their wings spread wide blocking the grey clouds above, shrouding the land in darkness.

"What in the world…" was all the helmsman could get out before the horde of dragons swooped from the skies, heading straight for the village. Their roars pierced through the air as they let out trails of fire from their jaws, setting the wooden dome-shaped houses ablaze.

After that, everything happened in a flash, a piercing high-pitched noise rattling the air as inferno clouded the world and the once fragrant smell of bread and sea grass was replaced with the odor of burnt flesh and smoke.

The last thing anyone that day remembered was their village being burned to the ground, the wails of wives and mothers over their husbands and children's bodies as blood covered earth from both man and beast.

The large chief kneeled to the ground as droplets of rain fell from the heavens, his body covered in soot and dragons blood as he leaned down to cradle the body of his beloved wife, her grey eyes wide with blood escaping her parted lips.

More rain cried from the sky as thunder roared above in a frenzy as everyone able gathered to their chief's side.

He's breathing was shallow and heavy as anger flooded his heart.

"Ready the ships..."

The men and women gathered their belongings and children, heading for the vessels that weren't destroyed. They sailed out into sea, along the way seeing other ships from various coastlines doing the same. It took them many moons, but they made it to an island with a large mountain and dense forests.

Here they'd start over, learn about the enemy and take them down one by one.

"What should we name it, father?" the son of the chief asked looking out to the landmass.

"Berk, my son. This is our new home," his father said holding him by the shoulder. "This is now Viking land."

…

As droplets of rain fall to the grassy earth of the forest floor, the Runner collects a large study leaf, allowing it to fill with water. Once the vessel filled with liquid, he carefully lifted the edges of the leaf with his blunt crystalized teeth and carried it off to a hallowed oak tree, where his expecting mate rested.

Her body was covered in the same soft cinereous-grey downy fur as her mate, small speckles of ecru on her back, neck and face. Her breathing relaxed as she opened her peridot eyes to those of her partner's as he leaned down to present her water.

"Trouble?" she asked taking a sip from the sheet.

"Just some human children on our domain, led them back to their village. I sensed something out by the cliff, but didn't stay for too long to figure out what it was," he hummed seating next to her. "Soon?" he asked staring at her rising and falling belly with a smile.

"Very. I worry, I fear we're the last of our breed," his mate howled softly.

The male looked out to the pouring rain, narrowing his eyes. "Hunters are blinded with their greed to realize the repercussions of their actions. I wish nothing but hope and safety for our pup."

A jolt ran across the female's spine as the first contractions set in.

"It's time."

Her mate stood and nuzzled her cheek with encouragement as she calmly inhaled and exhaled.

"Just a bit more, my dear. One more push..." he softly cooed as she did so, panting slowly as the faint sounds of mewling echoed within the oak.

Looking back, both witnessed as their pup slowly wobbles up, falling once before seating on her hind legs. The pup lets out a tiny yawn, revealing small quartz canines and teeth as her eyes sluggishly open, bright peridot like her parents.

A daughter.

"Our sweet pup," her mother beamed, leaning over to kiss her child's already sleepy face.

Her father pressed his snout to hers nuzzling lovingly. "Hello there, sweet. Let's see you mist up."

The pup slowly lifted herself once more, shaking herself slightly and from her shivers, small puffs of haze surrounded the baby Mist Runner.

Both parents gaze down at their little one with smiling faces, the last Mist Runner to be born in the world. A cackle from outside stiffens the new mother and father, he giving out protective growls.

"Well look what we got here, must be our lucky day!" a hunter from the outside said as he and others began to approach the oak. "Thought you fellas were all gone, won't the boss be happy to know he'll be gettin' Mist Runner coats and a pup."

The male's growls turned to aggressive barks as he lunged from the opening, baring his crystal teeth and bristling his fur slightly. As his hairs rise, the droplets of rain surrounding him began to steam, creating a thick veil of mist around him and the hunters.

"Whoa, boys, back up," one of the more experienced hunters warned. "The fog won't harm ya, but it makes it easier for them to get to ya."

"It's flightless, what's the worst it can do to us?" a young hunter snidely remarked as a high-pitched sound came from the jaws of the Mist Runner.

"GET DOWN!"

Just out of harm's way, the men lowered themselves while keeping out of the mist as a bright thin white beam bounced off of the Runner's teeth before collecting an inch from his mouth as a concentrated laser and shot out. The blast expended for a great distance, perfectly slicing trees and boulders as he turned his head across the area where the hunter laid. After five seconds, the beam finally ended.

The hunters lifted themselves from the ground, looking behind them at the now sliced area of forest lasting about one thousand meters. Where the laser cut through the trees and rocks, the area was perfectly smooth with no indication of scorch marks. Many of the new coming hunters began to shiver in fright as to what it could have done to their flesh and bone.

"He's only got two more shots to go, we better muzzle him before he thinks to get to them, they only last longer and get stronger," a more experienced one said readying his whip.

"On my count, I need you to take our daughter and run to the Storm Cutter nest," the male softly managed between a snarl.

Reaching out, she grabbed her little one between the back and belly, cradling her gently in her soft mouth. The pup whimpered slightly, scared from the situation as her mother positioned herself.

More mist spread and soon it appeared as if the entire forest was covered in a thick blanket of haze. Now the hunters legs were submerged in the fog, some feeling a tingling sensation as they looked down to see crystals forming around their legs, spreading to the ground locking them in place.

"3."

"It's a distraction! Break it off!" one hunter shouted.

"2."

The female inhaled slowly as the haze rapidly rose, clouding the air. Her eyes glowed emerald and looked to the forest with clear vision.

"1."

"STOP THEM!" another yelled out desperately trying to chip away at the solidified mass of minerals over his knees.

On the last count the Mist Runner let out a deep echoing howl throughout the evergreen, the sound was that of a wolf with the cracking clicks of a jackal. As soon as it was sounded, the female bolted out the tree and to the covered woodland ahead as the raindrops began to get denser, only aiding her escape as the fog ate it away.

With his mate and pup gone, the male climbed up the hollow tree behind him, camouflaging perfectly between the bark and the mist.

One of the hunters managed to release himself from the crystal and looked around the blurred world for any sigh of the Runner. Soon they were all freed.

"Don't just stand there, GET ME THAT PUP!" the lead hunter bellowed out before the male pounced down to him, tacking him to the ground as he readied a bite down at the horrible man.

It was against his code to kill a human, but he'd do anything to protect his mate and child. One by one he got several good scratches to the men, biting down on their necks enough to induce sleep by incapacitation. This however, did not prevent one from tying him down with ropes and straps, muzzling him after releasing one of the men. The straps were short lived as the Mist Runner rolled off from the trapper, and relaxed his body, loosening the binds enough for him to get out while the muzzle was still to his jaws.

He spread the fog outwards, now forming condensed balls of white light around them, confusing the hunter inside as he focused on the orbs. From outside of the battle, a hunter pulled on his bow string shooting out a poison-tipped arrow and with precise aim, pierced the male Mist Runner's heart.

His body jolted and twitched as the poison entered his bloodstream, he could feel every fiber of his begin being rapidly eaten away at as the toxin killed off his cells. After a few moments his body stopped moving, his eyes wide open. As he drew his final breath, the mist cleared away, as did the orbs.

The forest became abnormally silent, not even the wind produced a sound.

From behind, a man on a horse appeared, the female held in his palm by the tail, dead.

He turned to the men on the ground, and then to the one still up as more hunters arrived on horseback. "You idiots let the pup get away!" his voice as cold, deep with a tinge of an accent. "Now I have two dead Runners with one worthless to me," he said looking to the male on the ground. He wanted them all, alive. He was not very happy.

From above, Storm Cutters, Timberjacks, and Night Furies cried out, the image of the dead Alpha and his mate engulfed their minds with rage and hatred. Their Alpha sought for peace between the two, wanting no bad blood. Now that, his, the last of the Runners blood was shed, this ended the truce.

The first to attack were the Storm Cutters, charging in from above at fast speeds, roaring loudly as they sent spiraling explosions of fire down to the hunters. Mist Runners were their eternal friends, they looked out for each other. One to the sky and one to the earth. The one time the Storm Cutter let his brother down, it cost him and his mate their lives as well as the life of their unborn pup. For as long as the last Storm Cutter lived, they'd forever loath and despise humans.

This meant war…

…

As the mist spread, the female ran as fast as she could, her padded pawed feet silently trekking over wet moss and tree roots. She couldn't look back, knowing if she did she'd just turn around and back to her mate. Her body was still weak but she managed to continue onward till the sound of heavy stomps caught her attention.

Horses.

Mist Runners were far faster than horses, but in her condition she wasn't performing at top speed. She looked around and spotting a decaying log, ran to it and gently placed her daughter inside.

The pup whimpered as she gazed into her mother's eyes. Her few moments alive were frightening and she didn't know what was going on.

The mother softly hushed her pup, nuzzling her soft fluffy damp coat. "Listen to me, my sweet, I need you to be brave, stay quiet and hidden. Do not come out until you hear no more noise and I come back for you." She gave her daughter sweet kisses to soothe her fears. "Your father and I love you with all our hearts; I'll be going away for a short while, remember, stay silent."

Her daughter nodded, pressing further into the log before giving a caring lick to her mother's snout. With a heavy heart, the female Mist Runner ran off in the opposite direction of the Storm Cutter nest, hoping to lure the hunters away.

Horses soon arrived where the tracks turned, the men atop them looking around.

"Where'd they go? They couldn't have gone far?" one turned his horse around, scoping the perimeter.

The pup slowly tilted her head out the log, a hoof right near the exit. She looked up to see a tall built creature, with long braided black hair decorated in metal beads a top a dark horse. Around his neck was a chain of Mist Runner teeth, sparkling as the rain hit there surface. On his torso was a leather belt, the center housing an eight pointed golden sun that hollowed black in the center. The image of the crest locked itself in her mind, forever remembering the horrible symbol as one of evil and grim.

The man looked to the ground, seeing the tracks of the Mist Runner turning west. Fortunately, the baby Runner tucked herself back into the log, not making a sound as her mother instructed. "There," he extended his spear outward in the direction of the tracks, the others following suit as he led the front.

Soon, they managed to block her path by forcing her to a stone incline. Runners were excellent tree climbers, but not so much stone. She turned to her attackers as she prickled her coat, creating fog around her paws. The man with braided hair jumped off his stallion, marching towards the Runner. She bared her fangs, barking threats to her attacker.

"The thing about a Mist Runners coat is its heating system ability," the man said placing his spear to the ground. "Their internal body heat condenses the air around them, creating mist even in the driest of days. It does nothing to them for warmth as they need to migrate south in the winter to avoid the snow and cold where they'd be easy targets. However, to humans it's warmer than yak and sheep wool, wicks off moisture and is oh so velvety soft."

He continued towards her, her having to back herself onto the stone wall.

"The trick is to kill them without damaging the material. Traditional methods like poison darts and arrows tarnishes the coat, making it invaluable, so wolfs bane and nightshades are highly not recommended in the collection. And due to their plant-based diet, they're immune to most toxins like oleander and mandragora," he was so close she has shivering, her body completely pressed to the cold wet wall. "The best way to get them is to have them submit defeat to you and to skin them alive from tail to head. They're one of the few dragon species that can cry and their tears have incredible healing properties. Once you've gathered enough, a quick slice to the throat should finish them off. But once we get that pup, we'll have all the tears we want."

And with a quick gab, he stuck his spear into the heart of the female Mist Runner.

…

Inside the log, the pup silently waited just as her mother asked her to do. The haze outside began to clear and there was no sign of noise to be heard. Slowly, she exited the log, looking around to see if everything was clear.

She was alone.

Reaching up to the truck of the log, she sat patiently. She had only been born ten minutes ago and her world went from calm to terrifying in the blink of an eye. The images of her father and mother crossed her mind as did the haunting sun. Her body shivered at the thought of it.

What did they want? She asked herself.

Curling her tail, she listened as the only comfort to her was the sound of raindrops on leaves and the log. She wanted to cry, like the sky. Closing her eyes, a single teardrop grew bigger on her low hanging head. When the drop became heavy, it wicked off her fur and towards her left paw. As the droplet fell, it began to solidify into a plasma-like paste. On contact with her fur, the paste slowly hardened and spread over her small body as quartz, crystallizing her physical form in solid mineral.

She breathed calmly as her tears fell. She wanted to live in a place where she and her parents didn't have to run from people on horses. A place where she'd be loved like her parents showed her. A home...

As the last formation of quartz enclosed her body, she drew her last breath and dreamed of that world.

The rains continued to pour as a passing traveling merchant on a horse passed by. He was dressed in exotic clothing of blue and silver, his long brown beard weaved and held by a band of leather. He was heading towards an old Viking village when the glimmer of a clear gem caught his attention.

There, on a rotting log, was a solid piece of quartz in the shape of a Mist Runner pup. Over the years he had seen many of the Runners declining in numbers but never had he seen a statue of their pups made of gem.

"Whoa there, boy," the merchant pulled on the rails and hopped off his steed. Cautiously walking towards it he placed his hand over the smooth texture of crystal, the detail so fine the gods themselves must have formed it.

He lifted the pup figurine and looked over it closely. The head was facing downward and its expression was sorrowful, almost as if lost. He could have sworn the crystal almost had a heartbeat. A part of him told him to leave it but he felt compiled to take it with him. Turning back, he marched to his horse and placed the figure snuggly in a soft cloth between tapestries.

"Come on, little one. Let's find you a home," he said with a smile as he hopped back on his horse on his way across the world.