Hiccup Firehades has nightmares. Some of his father, murdered before his very eyes. Some of the stories Neoma would tell him of her various punishments while living with her parents. Others of Abble dying, or his mother tossed him out because he was too weak, too inadequate. He can no longer go near the stream that’s in the old camp, because if he does, then he might catch a whiff of his fathers' scent on the wind, and he can’t face that right now. He throws himself into his magic training. He knows he can’t fight like his mother, but he never wants to be like his father; helpless except for a small dose of courage and the heart that was strong enough to fling himself towards death to buy his son and his enemy’s daughter more time. He makes promises and works hard to ensure any apprentice can speak their mind and have it be heard by the clans' government. He pays special attention to those with human blood or those raised by humans. He teaches them they have nothing to be ashamed of, and that they have abilities no one raised in the clan will have: like the stubbornness to keep moving on.
Neoma Tolibo can’t stand the cold anymore. Just the thought of snow can send her into a panic attack. She requests to be moved someplace warmer for training and moves to South Carolina for a time before going to San Francisco. She can’t take elevators—not after being imprisoned most of her life—and she’s scared to fight. She learns enough to defend herself and vows to become a pacifist, only defending those who cannot defend themselves. She has problems with touch, and a simple caress from Hiccup can send her snarling into a corner like a rabid animal. She doesn’t like long hugs—Hiccup and Abble are the only exceptions—and she definitely does not like to be snuck up on. She sleeps very little and sleeps even less when sharing a bed with Hiccup because of his nightmares. She keeps a sharpened dagger under her pillow and mistrusts everyone for three years before she understands these people are her family, and they would never hurt her. Those who would are quickly turned into ducks for a month before Blaze announces that the next person who turns another clanmate into a duck will be saddled with tending farms for two months for every duck they create.
Abble Sol Desmí smiles at everyone. Even if he doesn’t like them. He has been on this Earth far longer than either of his friends and has seen far too much death during all of it. He recalls the moment he saw Adam Winters on the other side of the war. They had eaten lunch before, and Adam had once told Abble his accent was “cool”. But at that moment, Adam had tried to kill him for siding with his best friend; the little boy Blaze had birthed and charged him with watching. He remembers the terrified face of another little boy he couldn't protect. His big, pale blue eyes pleading for someone to save him, anyone. Begging Abble to protect him one last time. They weren’t blood-related, but Abble was still haunted by that sickening crunch of his skull shattering under the pressure of Dominic’s pressing hand, and the blood that had coated him and Shrew Willowhut’s horrified siblings. He gives extra long hugs and kisses them randomly atop the head if the mood strikes him. He makes sure to knit them sweaters and scarves and socks. He bakes them cookies and tells odd jokes. He never lets them know he’s afraid or sad because then they would have no one to turn to. He hides more of his sadness from Hiccup than anyone else. Matt Fayette was the first to welcome him into the clan when he had revived from the drakon attack, and now he was dead. All that remained of him was a smattering of memories and a little boy who desperately wanted to step out of his parents' shadows and be the best that he could be with his magic.
Ismael Loring layers defensive magic on any place he’s in. He can still remember the sound of cyclops bashing through the one camp he didn’t enchant. He can remember his friend’s son screaming when his father's throat was slit in front of him because he’d grown lax with his professional charms. He casts spells he knows he won’t even need in perfectly safe environments out of paranoia. Loud bangs and thumps on tables still make him jump. They remind him of the very real magic bombs that had been hurled through the air at his friends—at his family. He calls and texts Hunter and Caleb to make sure they’re still alive and well every morning. He writes Blaze little notes full of jokes and funny nostalgia they share from camp back in the day. And if his distractions don’t keep his mind from the terrors he saw, he goes to Ryder and smokes a blunt with him. He knows the weed is bad for his lungs just as a cigarette is bad for a human's lungs, but he can’t find it in him to care. It will take more years before he stops smoking so much, and even more time before he finally tells his girlfriend that he’s ready for children after how many innocent babies he had to help bury.
Caleb Shimon is more withdrawn. He is more quiet, less expressive than he once was. What comfort he found in this new world of monsters and magic and in the joys of flight have been taken from him by a warrior he thought was one of their own. He goes to the Spirit Tree often. To visit Arthur's grave and to see how many have passed on. Each time he goes, he cries. Cries, because of how many friends he’s lost on this journey, and cries because of all the names on the tree that have been crossed out, he never expected the name next to Blaze’s to be crossed out. He worries about Ismael’s smoking and Hunter screwing around with Ryder in dark rooms after they drink too much human booze. But his friends already have their coping methods, no matter how unhealthy, and the one person he knew could be counted on for listening to him was dead. He focuses on Blaze instead and reminding her she has a son that loves her and needs to know he didn’t lose both parents that day. He improves his speed and his stealth and takes to spying on people. Not because he believes them to be spies themselves, but because he can’t stand to think of another warrior betraying them like Dominic.
Hunter Kimmel goes back and forth from being stable to being a sloppy, drunk mess. He and Ryder make out in Ryder’s apartment, and even do more than that. It’s never very satisfying, and Hunter somehow ends up sobbing into the other man's shoulder, but the tough warrior never complains and never gets gruff with him. He just holds Hunter, rubbing his back with calloused hands that are far too thin to be a skilled killer’s hands. When he’s not drunk, he’s doing his best to tend to the clan and Blaze. His own brother is off somewhere, fucking around with something, but Hunter is among the people. He accepts their thanks as small tokens that he’s done something right. He no longer looks both ways before crossing the road. He’s no longer sure if he’s straight or not, but Ryder doesn’t complain when they end up in bed together yet again. He talks to Flame Firehades for a time, and learns of her half-sisters, and cries together with her into a bottle of vodka. The next morning, she won’t admit to anything, but begrudgingly admits he’d make a better deputy than Justus. And when he’s somewhere in between, he goes to the rock skipping beach, where Matt took him on their first solo lesson together. He searches awhile for a good rock, then throws it the way Matt shows him. Sometimes, he can still hear the taller boy talking to him in that soft, yet factual-driven tone of his.
Ryder Nemisishealer is tired. Tired of the missions, tired of his brother, tired of everything. But since he’s Ryder, he stays around for his friends. Stays for Ismael, smoking from a bong while the taller man smokes a blunt and talks about what could have been different. It’s after the war that he finally breaks up with his abusive girlfriend. She throws a fit, telling him he’s worthless if he leaves, and he punches her face. He tells her he already knows that, and she’s late to the fucking program. He picks up his things and leaves, moving to the newly evacuated NYC. He chooses an old brick building that’s sure to have some history behind it, and never thinks about the house he was kicked out of. He checks up on Blaze. He gets her to eat, to drink, to shower, to get out of bed a bit. Every now and then, he wakes her up from nightmares. Allura releases Blaze into his custody, and they share his apartment for awhile. He goes back to Cumberland to find things she would appreciate or need. He makes the mistake of bringing her copy of The Giver and the first How to Train Your Dragon movie and has to stay with her, and her bed for at least three days before she finally stops crying and screaming for Matt in her dreams. But he gets her back to a more coherent state and learns how to pretend to be okay so that not even Blaze is worried about him. He decides to never have an apprentice, and orders that Credell be medicated so that he can’t cause any damage to the clan. Ryder can already sense that dark part of his brother—the selfish part that made Credell hurt Blaze, and Ryder doesn’t want his only blood relative dead. He helps Hunter distract himself, even though he knows it’s wrong and it only confuses Hunter more. He finds he can’t stop. He loves the smell of Hunters skin a little too much for it to just be platonic, but he doesn’t want to make the other man decide what they are. He doesn’t want another relationship for awhile. Maybe not ever again.
Bracken Willowhut has become overprotective and bitter. He resents his mentor for different reasons than when this war first began. He resents Hiccup for idolizing her so much. But most importantly, he resents himself for being too weak to save his brother from his fate. He swears vengeance on Dominic Tolibo. He curses too much and speaks too loudly about killing. He’s not forced to live in a modern camp. He stays in Cumberland for a few years, and angrily stares at the rock column by one of the “Indian Campgrounds”. He writes letters to his mother and sister, assuring them he is fine but is seething so much that Jaxson Rodriguez begins to periodically check up on him. He makes no friends and locks himself in his room, planning elaborate ways to kill the leader of DarkClan. And he trains so he’s not weak anymore.
Blaze Firehades is broken. She knows she’s been cracked for quite some time, but now she can’t piece herself back together, not this time. Her rock is gone, and her friends are still reeling from it all. Most days, she can’t drag herself out of bed. She doesn’t eat, doesn’t drink. Doesn’t bathe and rarely sleeps because of all the nightmares. She can’t go into the Healers den, not even after they clean up all of the blood and the body itself. She knows vaguely, that her son is there and wants her to help him, but she can’t drag herself out of the inky black recesses of her mind. She knows a few friends take care of her—particularly Ryder and Setha—but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough again. Not after her soulmate was ripped from her brutally. And even as she grows stronger, begins to remember there’s a world out there, she never really heals. She grows hard and bitter. She laughs and smiles because that is what is expected of her, but she does nothing more. She briefly maintains a relationship with a god and an alien but breaks it off after she realizes it’s not fair to lead them on. She spends her days fixing the clan, adjusting laws and talking to humans as they begin to reshape the world. She notes quietly that this will bring about the end of times, but she can’t find it in herself to care much. Every now and then, she watches her son from afar, marveling at his magical abilities and feeling a dull throb of pride when he successfully creates the first portal to the elven world in at least five hundred years. Everything will always feel dull and unreal without Matt. She knows that. But she also knows that sixteen years of pretending and acting have prepared her for this. She can fool everyone. Even when her mind is twisted with plots of revenge and her body is strummed with so much sadness and anger that she can easily call the hottest flames to her fingertips, she can act as if she’s okay. And for now, that will be enough.
Drew Tanaka doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He’s considered a turncoat to his clan and considered a great spy to his not-clan. Everything is upside-down and backwards, and he thinks it’s a damn miracle that he hasn’t gone insane yet. He remains quiet and keeps his opinions to himself. He keeps careful tabs on Dominic and briefly visits Allura in FireClan. They share a nest when he can sneak away for long periods of time. If he weren’t still considered a traitor, he might have already mated with her. They might already have kits. But he knows that’s not possible for now, so he contents himself with her scent on these rare nights, and sleeps easily knowing she is by his side. When he is with DarkClan, he plays his part. He knows no one will ever know where his true loyalties lie. He, like any other FireClan warrior, can feel Blaze’s pain, and he wishes desperately that he could help her. But they already carved out their respective corners long ago. Drew can do more good here, behind enemy lines in the lion's den than he ever could home. He’ll remain here for now, until he’s certain FireClan will need his help again.
Midnight Firehades is haunted. Haunted by the fact that he tried to kill his own sister for two years before he discovered the truth. Haunted, because his employer chained him in the most brutal way possible. He bears wounds now that have been healed with strange magic, the memories of such an incident are gone and he struggles to remember anything about who managed to save his life. All he remembers is a faint smile and soft eyes. He tries to stay with Blaze and her clan for a bit, but their laws are too confusing, too constricting for a demidragon who never had to learn to live with others. He spends an entire year there before he leaves. An entire year to learn about both of his sisters; Blaze and Flame equally. He learns their favorite food, and what happened to Flame’s half-sisters. He vows to return to them, should they ever ask for his help. He curls up with Blaze, watching over her as she sleeps. he learns that he can somewhat control the magic, plugging his body up. And he flies around the world, enjoying the feeling of freedom. His reputation has changed. He is no longer regarded as the Terror of the Night, but more as the Night Guardian. he is the one the loners and rouges go to when there is a problem. He is the one who will protect the young, and feed them if they ask him nicely and provide a bit of company to him. He’s not the leader of them, not officially. But he is the one they turn to with problems and for guidance. If he orders them to follow, then they will follow. He learns how to heal from all of the clans, and soon becomes the best loner Healer in all of the worlds. And for once in his life, he’s not bitter anymore. Not angry. He’s haunted, but he’s grown. he has a family. His parents may have tossed him out, but he has two little sisters to take care of. And hell will fall before he leaves them to rot.
Flame Firehades is determined. the war is over and her focus is back on the Tenth Legion. She maintains relations with Blaze, working out their own agreements, and expends her territories. She trains her warriors. She trains her people. And they grow stronger in preparation for the next war. She is ready, and she will never be caught unaware again.
Commonly united under a single banner of pain, FireClan learns to never forget but protect its borders. It’s leader carefully watches for any sign of darkness rising again. And sure enough, seventeen years later, they declare war once more as their precious Spirit Tree’s life is threatened for the second time in the clan’s long history.
