*** Final Spoiler Warning, You Have Been Warned! ***

One Last Goodbye

Silence holds the village tight in its grasp. The winter air remains motionless. Snow covers the world in its velvet embrace. Snoggletog decorations hang from tree and home. The pale moon lightly touches the village as the first hints of morning grace the horizon.

I stand, my knees aching, protesting the cold. My stump hurts more every day. If Dahlia, the medicine woman, knew I was up and about in the snow she would throw a fit. As it was, I only had an hour or so to begin my journey. I gingerly lean down and kiss the gravestone.

"Goodbye, Astrid. May we soon meet again in Odin's sacred halls." I whisper, a lonely tear rolls down my cheek. My ducts dry after a long night.

The winter had been too cold for her this year and the chill had taken her. She had died quietly in her sleep. Our eldest son, Hierold, had eloquently stated that death could have taken her no other way, lest there been a fight. It had been a beautiful service.

I am now the last of the original riders. My mother had died a few years after the dragons left, I imagine a life without dragons was simply too much for her. Gobber had passed shortly after, old age and aching limbs overcoming the joyful smith. Eric had continued to hunt dragon trappers for a few years, freeing the dragons and pointing them in the direction of the hidden world, never to New Berk. He succumbed to wounds he suffered in battle with the trappers.

Tuffnut died at sea; a freak storm pulled his boat into its dark bosom. Fishlegs died quietly and happily in his favorite chair, surrounded by his books. Ruffnut joined her husband shortly after, grief and age taking its natural toll. Snotlout found his last respite in battle, protecting his family from pirates that had snuck past the battle line. Their gravestones mark the end of an era.

But life goes on. Hierold runs the village now, and he teaches his son so that he can take his place one day. Dragons have passed into legend. So few of us remember the days of dragons.

Hierold and his sister, Freja, met Toothless and his family only once. It is one of my happiest memories, but Astrid and I agreed it would be too painful to return again. The children knew the truth and that would have to be enough if the dragons were to remain safe.

I don't know if they even remember it though. It had been so very, very long ago. The ache in my heart never went away. I think the others slowly let go of the memories. I did know Astrid remembered Stormfly in her own way. A spike from Stormfly's tail rested on her chest even now, tied to the necklace I had attached it too all those years ago.

But we never spoke of those times. The memories are too painful, like a void that could never be filled.

Parents passed down the stories of the dragons to their children, and when those children grew, they told the stories to their children. We showed the new generations the saddles and scales. We reminded them to remember and wait for the day when dragons could return.

But the magic left their eyes as they grew. It became nothing more than a story, a myth. None of the villagers would say it near me, but I knew they believe most of it to be an exaggerated fairy tale. Maybe there had been dragons when we were younger, but it was quite evident that they were gone now. No one has seen a dragon in a generation and a half. Dragon trapping is a dead trade.

In the end I guess we had succeeded in that at the very least.

I shuffle slowly through the snow down to the docks, a small satchel with a few personal items slung on my shoulder. I quietly untie a small longship from the pier and cast off. I let the vessel drift into the harbor and look back.

New Berk stands proudly in the first rays of the morning light. Tall windmills reach into the sky, pumping clean water. Homes by the score line the cliffs and lay atop the pillars. An intricate system of pulleys and platforms enable travel across the island's myriad stone columns and cliffs. A mighty lighthouse burns solemnly at the entrance of the harbor. A statue of my father stands in silent vigil over the village. I am proud of what my people became. Their accomplishments stood as a testament to who we are.

I turn away and point my boat west. I had left a letter to my son and daughter and their families explaining where I am going. I said my goodbyes and asked that they forgive me for stealing away in the night. I also begged Hierold not to send anyone after me, lest the dragons be rediscovered. Give this old man his last wish. Maybe if the world forgets about the dragons, they will be safe.

I rest now in the back of the boat, one hand on the tiller keeping my course steady, the other tucked under my heavy cloak. My beard does an adequate job of keeping my cheeks warm as I peer into the mists. The cold works its way into bones.

For hours I drift quietly across the ocean. A wintry mist clings to the ocean promising snow in the next day or so. I rely on the intermittent breeze and the soft current to carry me.

In the freezing solitude I remember my childhood. The horror of the raids, the joy of hitting the Night Fury.

"I did it! Did anyone else see that?!"

I remembered my juvenile glee as a scoured the forest looking for my prize and the dismay that took me the first time I saw Toothless.

"I did this…"

The memory of my terror as it warred with my curiosity danced before my eyes.

"Huh, toothless? I could have sworn you had- teeth!"

I rubbed my hand as I recalled the feeling of Toothless's cool scales against the palm of my hand and the utter exuberance we had enjoyed as we learned to fly together.

"Yeaaaah! Oh, come on…WHOOOSH."

The fear I felt when I faced the Nightmare in front of the village, the dread as Toothless intervened, the horror as he was dragged away, I remembered it all like it was yesterday.

"Go, GO! No, dad, he won't hurt you!"

I still have nightmares of the battle with the Red Death.

"Okay, times up. Time to see if this works… NOW"

"No, NO!"

The shock of waking up to see a village full of Vikings and dragons still felt like a dream.

Oh, and the adventures we had… Alvin the Terrible and Dagur the Deranged. Viggo Grimborn and Trader Johann.

I reminisced fondly of reuniting with my mother. I cringed at the memory of the first battle against Drago Bludvist and the Bewilderbeast… I wept recalling the death of my father at the flame of my best friend.

I took fierce pride in our second encounter with the Drago's army and Toothless becoming the alpha.

Becoming chief had always been a bittersweet memory for me, but I still remembered fondly those last few months with Toothless before the events surrounding the Light Fury, the Hidden World, and Grimmel the Grisly.

The years since then have been long… yet, peaceful, joyful, and memorable. I loved Astrid, I loved my kids and grandkids, and I loved my village.

This journey is one of last hopes and final goodbyes. I know I won't survive the winter. People are only meant to live so long.

But there is one last thing I must do. I need to know, to be sure… To say goodbye one final time if I can.

The boat shudders as it runs aground suddenly. Straining to see through the mists I barely make out the stretch of rocks that I have hit. I pull myself up and return my satchel to my shoulder. I carefully climb out the front of the boat.

The sound of rumbling water pierces the misty silence. I cautiously walk over the ice-covered rocks. I had never told anyone, but I had returned here twice since the visit with Astrid and the kids. Neither time had Toothless been there, nor any other dragon. There isn't a scale nor a claw nor a tooth of a dragon anywhere to be found in the area. They have long since retreated deeper into their hidden home.

I sit down with my legs hanging over the precipice of the entrance to the Hidden World. My body now shakes violently with chills as the cold finally seeps past my heavy cloak and coat. I toss a rock into the gaping hole before me and watch it plummet into the swirling depths.

It is a vain hope I realize now that I sit here. For all I know, Toothless past away years ago. We never did find out how long the dragons could expect to live. He probably didn't even remember me. I still remember sadly the initial look of mistrust that he had greeted me with when I had brought the children to see him. I never held that against him though. He had his own life and I had mine, we both had to move on, and we did. So is the way of things.

I let my chin rest against my chest, waiting for the cold to take me. It won't be long now. I don't have any regrets. It had been a good life, a fulfilling life, a happy life. That's better than most get to say.

The sounds from the waterfalls begins to fade. The biting chill of the cold numbs my body against thought and feeling.

"Well, I hope he's happy, wherever that useless reptile is." I think with a grin as my eyes slowly close.

A sound starts to build in the background, slowly but steadily. My eyes snap open sending tiny frozen tears flying and I look carefully into the gaping hole before me. Surely my eyes are pulling tricks on me. Maybe I am already dead.

A lightning storm is building in the hole beneath my feat. Azure bolts of power and energy arc against the walls of the pit and up the waterfalls. A thunderous bang shatters the air and a familiar blue explosion rolls below me. I shield my eyes from the sudden bright light.

When I open them, it is as if nothing had changed. There is no trace of smoke or ash and the water continues to fall unabated.

"It would be now in my old age that I start imagining things." I think morosely to myself.

A breath of air tussles my hair.

I turn, slowly, not quite believing I had actually felt anything. Yet not but a foot away from me a Night Fury, radiating a soft blue energy sits looking down on me. I look up into the dragon's eyes, instantly recognizing the cunning green orbs.

But does he recognize me?

He steps back looking me over. His eyes are non-threatening, more… curious.

I don't say anything, but I smile, close my eyes, and lower my head. I tentatively reach my palm forward, anxiously holding my breath.

I hear and feel the cautious sniffs before the nose of an old friend pushes into my palm firmly and a friendly warble lets me know everything is going to be okay.

I stand up despite the protests of my frozen joints and hug my best friend strongly. Tears of joy freeze against my cheeks

"Hey bud… Its been a long time, huh?"

And so an era ends. These movies will always hold a special place in my heart. They taught me what it meant to be confident in yourself and to stand up for what you believe in, they taught me about sacrifice and forgiveness, and most of all how to cherish those you love. Though it is unlikely we will ever get another movie or TV show in the HTTYD story verse, I can say that I will always remember Hiccup and Toothless. When I was a boy, there were dragons.

Berk is not a place, it is a people, it is all of us.