24 Epilogue

EPILOGUE I said, at the beginning of this episode of my memoirs, that the making of a Hero is like the making of a sword. How the sword and the Hero must be tested time and time again, and the more fearsome and dreadful the test, the stronger the sword and the Hero, in the end. That Boy-That-Once-Was-Me who is lying back there on the beach at Hero's End, he seems to have lost everything, doesn't he? He risked everything to get the Lost Things, and then at the last minute, they slipped through his fingers. He does not know this yet, poor boy, as he lies there. He is still dreaming that he is driving the ship with the Lost Things on it, safely through the Wind. 'Don't worry, Toothless,' he is muttering to himself, slightly delirious. 'It will be all right… everything will be all right…' Little knowing that poor Toothless has fallen into dark hands, and is not all right at all. It is pathetic, is it not, to see the boy's delusion, lying on that beach like a crumpled piece of driftwood thrown up by the careless gods, as if he were nothing.

But now I am seventy-six years old, looking back, I have to say that things are not quite as bleak as they seem. At last, for the first time in the boy's life, he is finally ready. It may not look like it, as he lies there, broken on the beach, having lost the Things, having lost Toothless, having lost everything. But this was the moment the Hero was made. He is ready to take on his destiny now. I meet him on Hero's End, hovering over him as he lies there, and I whisper: You are ready now. Know this, when you wake. You are finally ready to take on Tomorrow. You may look like a corpse, but you are in fact a King. He will need this knowledge when he wakes into painful reality. For it will be painful. He will grieve for the loss of the Things, and know that it is his fault. He will grieve for Snotlout. He will feel that this is his fault too, even though Snotlout chose to take that risk out of his own free will. But Snotlout has taught him something. Hiccup believed in Snotlout. He went on trying

to believe in Snotlout. And in the end Snotlout believed in Hiccup, and that was one of the crucial, final things that gave Hiccup belief in himself. This was what mattered. He has carried Snotlout with him ever after. Snotlout and his Black Star are part of his Kingship. Remember the Wodensfang's wheezy voice, whispering in the darkness of the underground hideout high in the Murderous Mountains, about how a boy can change from being Speedfast to being Grimbeard the Ghastly… '…and also the other way around.' Back on those ships crossing Hero's Gap on Doomsday Eve, Snotlout's father, Baggybum the Beerbelly, does not yet know that Snotlout has chosen the right side. Gobber and the Dragonmarkers are still cursing Snotlout's name, still believing him to be the most treacherous Traitor of Traitors, still shaking their heads and their fists, and calling down dreadful imprecations on his head. But they will find out the truth, in the end. Time will shake out the truth, as it always does. Gobber and Baggybum will find out the truth, just as Snotlout knew they would when he hung his Black Star round my neck.

They will know that Snotlout was a Hero after all… Gobber and Baggybum will be proud of him at last. And long after Kings are forgotten, and their names have fallen into dust, the good deeds and the actions of the Heroes live on in glory. Once I dreamed of castles and a crown upon my head… Now the night sky is my only roof and the sea my rocking bed… But let my heart be wrecked by hurricanes and my ship by stormy weather I know I am a Hero… and a Hero is FOREVER! As I write, sixty-two years later, I am wearing Snotlout's Black Star on a chain around my neck, the Black Star that in the Hooligan Tribe is the highest honour that can be given for bravery in battle. It looks a little incongruous on the chest of such a very old man as myself, but I wear it with such pride, and it makes me stand a little straighter, even though I am bowled into a hoop by age and the Archipelago's howling winds, and I am not as steady on my legs as I once was. It is the Black Star that Snotlout gave me when

he exchanged his clothes for my clothes, and his destiny for my destiny. A noble gift, do not you think, in the end, from one cousin to another? Here is the odd thing though. Time has rubbed away at the black of the Star. And underneath the black… there was just a glint of something, over the years, and then I rubbed at it, and rubbed at it, until the crusty dark surface crumbled away from the heart of the star, and the star fell out, the metal just as bright and brilliant as when it was first dug from the ground. Now the star doesn't look black at all. Just gold. A HERO… IS… FOREVER. Adieu, Snotlout. I could not have done this without you. I carry you with me, every step I take, every decision I make. You are part of my blood, and I would never have got this far without you. We shall meet again, in a better world than this one.

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