The Lost King’s Legacy

The quiet night settled over Berk like a thick blanket, the village steeped in stillness broken only by the occasional rustle of a dragon's wings or the soft whisper of waves against the cliffs. Dragons stirred in their roosts, their deep breaths creating a symphony of quiet rumblings that blended with the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tide below. The faint glow of the moon bathed everything in a pale silver light, lending an ethereal quality to the wooden structures and the restless figures within.

Inside Astrid's home, Lyra tossed and turned, her breath quickening as a nightmare clawed at her mind. Her usually serene face was contorted in anguish, soft whimpers escaping her lips.

In her dreams, the kingdom of Aether burned. Its skies, once filled with dragons gliding gracefully among gleaming spires, were thick with smoke and ash. The vibrant towers, their Emberstone cores glowing faintly, crumbled under the weight of destruction. People screamed and ran, their cries merging into a cacophony of despair.

And at the heart of it all stood Nyx.

The molten-gold of his eyes glimmered, but not with the strength and reassurance she had always known. Instead, they swirled with sorrow, his face a mask of failure. His obsidian-black sword was embedded in his chest, the crystalline designs along its length fractured and dull. Around him, the remnants of Chaos's storms churned—a futile effort to protect what had already been lost.

"Lyra…" his voice echoed, reverberating through the dreamscape.

She tried to reach for him, to scream his name, but the vision disintegrated into an endless void.

Lyra jolted awake, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she clutched at the thin blanket draped over her. Beads of sweat dotted her brow, and her crystalline green eyes darted around the dimly lit room, trying to reorient herself. The faint embers of the hearth still glowed, their warmth insufficient against the cold knot in her chest.

Her hands trembled as they moved to her lap, gripping the fabric of her nightgown. It was just a dream, she told herself. But the weight of it lingered, an echo of a reality she could never escape.

Unable to stay in the confines of the room any longer, she slipped silently out of bed. Careful not to disturb Astrid, she pulled on a shawl and opened the door, stepping out into the cool embrace of the night.

The air was crisp and carried the faint scent of salt from the sea. Lyra's steps were slow as she made her way to a small wooden bench perched near the edge of the cliff. The moonlit waves stretched endlessly before her, their gentle shimmer both a comfort and a reminder of the passage of time—a force she could not control. She sank onto the bench, her posture slouched, her shoulders weighed down by invisible burdens.

Her fingers moved to the thin band of metal on her left hand—her wedding ring. Forged from an alloy unique to Aether, its crystalline sheen caught the light in delicate, fleeting patterns. She turned it over between her fingers, her mind spiraling into memories of a life now shattered.

Astrid shifted restlessly in her bed, the faint creak of a door opening pulling her from sleep. She blinked groggily, her sharp instincts keeping her alert even as her body protested. Rising, she padded to the window and peered out, her blue eyes scanning the landscape until they found the lone figure on the bench below.

The moonlight framed Lyra, illuminating her silver-blonde hair and the faint movements of her hands. Her posture, usually upright and poised, was hunched, her head bowed as though she carried a weight too great to bear.

Astrid frowned. She had come to respect Lyra in their brief time together. The woman carried herself with a quiet strength and grace that commanded admiration, yet there was a fragility beneath the surface.

Grabbing her cloak, Astrid made her way downstairs and out into the night. The wooden planks of the porch creaked softly beneath her boots as she stepped into the cool open air. The crisp wind ruffled her hair as she descended the steps, her eyes fixed on the lone figure sitting near the cliff's edge. The moonlight cast a soft glow on Lyra's silver-blonde hair, making it appear almost ethereal.

Astrid walked across the grass with deliberate ease, her boots barely making a sound. She was careful not to startle Lyra, whose stillness seemed fragile, like she might shatter under the weight of her own thoughts.

"You okay?" Astrid asked gently, her voice low but steady enough to carry in the quiet.

Lyra flinched slightly, the trance of her thoughts broken, but her crystalline green eyes softened as she looked up and recognized Astrid. "I… did not mean to disturb you," she said, her voice quiet and edged with fatigue. "I could not sleep."

Astrid shrugged, settling onto the bench beside her, the wood creaking faintly beneath their combined weight. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as the night's chill brushed against her. "Happens to the best of us," she said lightly, tilting her head toward Lyra's hands. "Nightmares?"

Lyra nodded, her gaze dropping back to the horizon where the silvered waves rolled endlessly into the dark. "Yes. Of Aether. Of Nyx."

Astrid studied her closely, her sharp eyes catching the subtle tremor in Lyra's fingers as they toyed with a delicate ring on her hand. She had always known Lyra carried herself with a quiet strength, but there was an undeniable fragility here, a crack in the armor that made her seem more human.

"You and Nyx… you're close," Astrid ventured cautiously, her voice soft but curious. "Are you…?"

Lyra's lips curved into a faint smile, one tinged with both amusement and sadness. She raised her hand, the ring catching the moonlight and glinting with a faint crystalline sheen. "His wife," she said simply.

Astrid blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Wife? I didn't realize…" She paused, suddenly aware of how much she didn't know about the intricacies of Aetherian culture. "Do you… I mean, is it—"

"Do I love him?" Lyra finished for her, her voice carrying a melodic quality that softened the heaviness of the moment. She let out a quiet laugh, though it was tinged with weariness. "In Aether, love is not just between two people. Nyx is loved by all—our people, our dragons, even the very land we called home. He carries that love like a mantle, even when it crushes him."

Astrid leaned back slightly, her arms crossing over her chest as she considered this. "Sounds like a lot for one person to handle."

"It is," Lyra admitted, her voice soft and reflective. "But he does it without complaint, even when it breaks him. It's who he is."

Astrid arched a brow, her tone taking on a lighter edge. "So, he's noble, self-sacrificing, and ridiculously powerful. Sounds exhausting."

Lyra chuckled softly, the sound like a delicate ripple breaking the tension. "It can be," she admitted, her smile lingering. "But it's also inspiring. When Nyx is at his best, you feel as though the world itself is safer, more… alive."

Astrid smirked. "I'm guessing he's one of those people who makes everyone else feel like they're not doing enough with their lives, huh?"

Lyra tilted her head, her eyes sparkling faintly in the moonlight. "He has that effect sometimes. But he also carries the burden of making it look easy."

There was a pause before Astrid spoke again, her tone gentle but direct. "If he's so dedicated… then why isn't he here?"

Lyra's expression faltered, her fingers stilling on the ring as a shadow crossed her features. She let out a quiet sigh, the sound carried away by the wind. "Nyx believes he failed," she said finally. "To him, losing Aether means he lost everything. He isolates himself, thinking he can carry his pain alone."

Astrid frowned, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "That's not how healing works. You can't just shut everyone out and expect the pain to go away."

"No," Lyra agreed, her smile returning faintly. "But Nyx has always been… stubborn. He believes he must bear the weight of his people alone, even now."

Astrid snorted, shaking her head. "Sounds like someone else I know," she muttered, thinking of her own past struggles with independence and vulnerability.

Lyra's lips twitched upward, her eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. "Perhaps stubbornness is a universal trait among leaders," she said lightly.

Astrid chuckled, the tension between them easing slightly. "Maybe. But even the stubborn ones need someone to knock some sense into them every now and then."

Lyra's hand returned to the ring on her finger, her touch lingering on its smooth surface. "I will find him," she said softly, her tone filled with quiet determination. "Our rings ensure that we are never truly apart, no matter how far he runs."

Astrid arched a brow, intrigued. "That's handy," she said. "So, what, you can just… track him down like a dragon on a leash?"

Lyra's laugh was more genuine this time, a soft and melodic sound that seemed to lighten the air around them. "Not quite," she replied, tilting her head. "The rings are a bond, not a chain. They guide me when I need him most… and when he needs me."

Astrid leaned back, her arms resting on the bench's edge. "Sounds like a good system," she said casually. "Wish I had one of those for Hiccup. He has a habit of wandering off into trouble."

Lyra smiled, a warm, knowing expression. "Perhaps trouble is drawn to those who care too much," she said.

Astrid snorted. "You're telling me. Must be why Berk's still standing."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the wind carrying the faint sounds of dragons stirring in the distance.

"You know," Astrid said finally, her voice thoughtful, "if you ever need help knocking some sense into Nyx, I'm pretty good at yelling people back into place."

Lyra's laugh was soft but genuine, her posture relaxing slightly. "I'll keep that in mind," she said.

For the first time that night, the weight on her shoulders seemed a little lighter.

Far across the sea, Nyx sat on a jagged outcrop of rock, his silhouette sharp against the moonlit waves. The island was barren, its cliffs steep and unwelcoming, its sparse vegetation offering no solace.

Chaos lay curled nearby, its molten patterns pulsing faintly in the dark. The dragon's golden eyes were fixed on Nyx, reflecting the same turmoil that churned within its rider.

Nyx rested his arms on his knees, his obsidian-black sword planted in the ground beside him. The stars above seemed distant, indifferent, as if mocking him with their quiet beauty. He clenched his jaw, the weight of failure settling heavily on him.

For a long moment, there was silence, the only sound the crash of waves against the jagged rocks. Nyx's breath hitched, and he pressed his hand over his eyes, his chest tightening. His voice cracked as he spoke again, softer, rawer. "Sorry, Mom... Dad… I wasn't able to protect anyone. I tried... but I failed."

A choked sob escaped him, and he slumped forward, burying his face in his knees. The weight of the world seemed to press down on him, each failure, each death, crashing through his thoughts. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, the guilt gnawing at him, relentless and unforgiving.

Chaos stirred behind him, its molten patterns glowing faintly as it pushed forward, curling a bit closer to Nyx. The dragon's eyes never left him, watching quietly as Nyx fell apart.

Nyx wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, his voice rough. "I thought I could do it, Chaos. I thought I could be the one to save them, to keep everyone safe, but I couldn't." His shoulders shook, the grief spilling over, too much to contain. "I couldn't protect them. I couldn't protect you."

The dragon gave a low, soft rumble, the sound an attempt to comfort, and also a recognition of the weight Nyx carried.

"I don't deserve your company," Nyx muttered, though the bitterness wasn't aimed at Chaos. "I failed everyone who depended on me."

Chaos let out another soft growl, nudging Nyx's leg with its snout, a subtle motion that urged him to move, to pull away from his sorrow for just a moment.

Chaos growled softly, low and unwavering. The sound was less a response than a reflection of the tension in the air—a reminder that Nyx wasn't entirely alone, even if he felt like he was.

Nyx pushed the dragon's snout away gently, his bitterness rising. "You think this is going to fix anything? Just distracting me from the truth?" His voice cracked. "Nothing will fix it."

Chaos let out another growl, firmer this time, and nudged Nyx's leg with more insistence. It wasn't playful this time, just a clear message: I'm still here.

Nyx wiped his eyes, his movements slow and weary. "I should have been there. I should have been stronger for them," he muttered, his voice hollow. "But I wasn't. I wasn't."

Chaos stretched, restless energy moving through its limbs. It pawed at the ground with sharp claws, kicking up dust in the silence. Then, as if irritated by the lingering quiet, it turned its molten gaze back to Nyx, its eyes filled with a quiet determination that spoke louder than any words.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Nyx asked, almost to himself, his eyes meeting Chaos's. The dragon didn't answer, its gaze steady and unrelenting. It didn't need to.

With a heavy sigh, Nyx turned his gaze back to the sea, the sound of the crashing waves mixing with the beat of his heart. He stretched his hand toward the stars above. They still seemed so far away, unreachable. "I don't know what to do, Chaos. I don't know how to make this right."

The exhaustion of his thoughts finally caught up with him. Nyx, unable to stay upright any longer, leaned back and rested against the dragon's warm form. Chaos shifted slightly to accommodate him, curling around the man as he fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

The dragon, after a few moments of stillness, let its golden eyes flicker open, scanning the sleeping face of its rider. Chaos remained perfectly still, its molten patterns glowing faintly in the dark as it watched Nyx, its gaze softening ever so slightly.

And then, with a slow, quiet breath, Chaos closed its eyes once more, the night stretching on, undisturbed by the turmoil that lingered just below the surface.