Winter in berk is cold and treacherous. It lasts for months on end, the days short and brief while people scurry around to fulfill their jobs, the nights morbid with their chilling silence. But that is not all; there is something that lingers in the winter, a weariness in the people that seems to drag at their heels as they trudge through the snow and hollow their souls when they look into your eyes. They are haunted, plagued by the memories of what winter has brought and what it shall bring, consumed by the fears of what that means for them. I also live in that fear.
For as long as I can remember I would play in the summer, surrounded by the other young vikings, lost in the woods and giggling at the edge of the sea; but come winter we were shut away, hidden in our homes and concealed by our parents. We never complained, never protested; we knew too well the reasons why. At first it had seemed silly, like a joke played by our parents to stop us from having fun in the cold but as the years went on we began to understand. To this day I have only once played in the snow.
"Hiccup you must never go outside in the winter," My mother had warned, eyes filled with the terror she felt within, "there is something terrible out there, a daemon which lurks to take young children. You must never let it see you." She had pressed her hands into my checks, holding me firmly until I nodded to show my understanding. My mother is a strong woman but winter seemed to break her, reduce her to flinches and shivers and hasty glances.
I don't remember when we stopped having fun, stopped playing and began to worry about the coming winters; started to understand our parents words. We sat in the woods though; Astrid, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Touffnut, Fishlegs and myself, scribbling with sticks in the dirt as we mused thoughts to each other.
"My father says the daemon devour's children; that's why we have to stay in." Astrid shivers, "It steals them away in the snow when no one can see and takes them back to it's lair."
"Our father told us that it is hideous, with rows of sharp teeth like a shark and black eyes and long claws to hook you with. It lives in a dark cave full of monsters that is so cold it will freeze you to enter." Tuffnut looked up darkly, "If you're not already dead." I shivered unconsciously pulling my furs around my shoulder as Tootless came to rest at my feet. The black wolf was a small comfort in the musty autumn.
"No, no, that's wrong." Fishlegs shook his head, "I've seen them once preparing flocks to give to the daemon as an offering. As long as they appease it then it wont come for us."
"So they can be seen but it doesn't come for them?" I asked, wondering why they would risk appeasing it if they risked being devoured themselves.
"No," It was Snotlout who answered, waving his twig as he spoke, "it only comes for people under sixteen years; children."
"But that's not fair..." Astrid whimpered, gazing at her scratchy drawing of a snowflake, "He ruins everything for us..." And at the time I had agreed.
The years passed and as I grew I began to take more interest in the daemon. I hated being trapped inside; my house so much like a prison for the winter that during the summer I would often leave with Toothless all day and only come back at night. I started asking more questions, talking to elders in an attempt to wriggle the truth from them and listening in on conversations. My father had little to say but my mother finally sat me down.
"My dear boy," She smothered my hair back," You are fifteen, there is only one more winter for you to endure after this and then you will be free." She looked around the room, "Though to what in this village I do not know. The daemon will take animals, he will also take offerings, if he is not satisfied he I pray to the gods we will not find out what he will do." I was shocked as I heard her call the monster who tormented us he, as though it were a person.
"How do you know it takes children?" I asked, and she gave me a grim look, filled with the guilt of know the truth and never speaking it.
"Because we give them to him." She whispered, hands firm on my shoulders, "I am not proud of what we have done in the past but we have sworn not to let it happen again. He marks what he wants and when he has put his mark on it we can do nothing but give it to him. When he marked the first child the village refused to let him have his way, " She let go, crumpling into the chair opposite me, hand over eyes, "but that night there was a terrible storm, the houses were nearly uprooted and the farms were all destroyed and the marked boy was found, having froze to death in his home." She was silent for a moment. before looking directly at me.
"The daemon only comes in winter, he'll mark his offering before the winter solstice when he comes to take it. We must hide you, I couldn't bear it if you were taken..."
I had stopped asking questions then, seeing my mothers distress and instead offering to stoke up the fire. But that night I didn't sleep, eyes aching from tiredness but mid racing. Toothless growled lowly at the harsh wind that rattled the windows and I stroked through his soft fur. The winter solstice had passed now so the daemon was gone; it wouldn't make it's mark until next winter, at least that was what I wanted to believe.
A week later though I did something terrible. It was one of the rare moments of sun where the snow storm had calmed and my parents were busy on a fishing haul. I had just eaten lunch and Toothless was sleeping soundly when I heard a sound; a whistling as the wind caught on the edge of the door, blowing the wood gently. I looked over, seeing the small gap where the door lay open, unlocked.
It was so tempting, the blanket of snow that I had never touched stretching out and I lent out nervously. There was no one else there, an eerie silence in the village; no one to shoo me back in or stop me as I hesitantly took my first steps.I imagined the daemon; black eyes flicking, claws scratching across the back of my neck, teeth biting down- I shivered, shaking the thought from my mind; it was past the solstice, it would have gone.
I sat down in the snow, feeling it melt through my clothes and running my hands through the soft powder in amazement. It sparkled beautifully, white and glinting in the pale sunlight. I let myself relax in the coolness, enjoying it for the first time as I breathed in icy sharp air. I'm not really sure how long the boy was waiting there.
When I noticed him I jumped, going to scramble to my feet but stopping when he held out a hand for me to stay sitting. He had a strange appearance; skin pale as the snow around us and hair the same shocking white. His eyes however were a bright, clear, cold blue; watching me intently as a thin smile crept onto his lips. He made his way towards me, leaning on a twisted crook as he walked and sitting down besides me gently.
"Er, hi..." I watched him cautiously, "I haven't seen you here before..." I stated, shocked by his sudden appearance.
"No? Most of the children here are kept inside; some for just the winter, others the whole year." he stated, not really answering the question for himself but for me. not realising I nodded, snatching up the explanation immediately, despite it not providing for his strange looks and thin dark clothes.
"Do you not get cold?" I asked, looking at his bare feet and open shirt.
"A little." The boy shrugged, "But not in the way you'd imagine." I took my fur from my shoulders, instantly feeling the bite of the frost but telling myself that I still had more layers than him as I draped it round his shoulders. He stiffened in shock.
"You probably need it more than I do." I smiled and he relaxed into the fur, a small sparkle in his eyes as he seemed to look off in to the distance for a moment.
"Thank you." He beamed suddenly, reaching over and touching my neck while looking into my eyes. His touch was incredibly cold, almost freezing and I wondered for a moment how long he'd been out there. Then he pulled away, eyes sad and smile small as he stood, "I have to go now, but I'll see you again sometime." His voice was like a whisper in the wind, "And when I do, I'll return this." He snuggled into the brown fur.
"Alright." I looked down at the ground awkwardly, "But I-" I stopped; the boy was gone.
Although the incident was a little strange I thought nothing of it, sitting in the snow a little longer that day before returning home. When my parents came back asking how I was I mentioned nothing of it; not even saying that the door was open and not daring to ask who the boy had been. Things went back to normal and I had almost completely forgotten about what I had done until the smash of the pot my mother was carrying and cry that left her lips a month later.
She stood watching me, eyes wide in horror and legs shaking, the broken clay at her feet. My father ran to her, catching her as she gave in and fell to her knees, eyes never leaving me.
"Val, val! What's wrong?" He cried and all she could do was reach out a finger to point at me. He also turned and I saw his expression drop, like someone had tied a bad of rocks to his legs and thrown him into the depths of the cold arctic sea.
"Hiccup..." He whispered my name, "Did you ever go outside..." Shock ran through me and I began to shake, fear filling me of how he knew and what this meant.
"I-I... I went o-outside...just once, the door was open... I just w-wanted to see the snow..." I stuttered, attempting but failing to smile,"B-but I mean it doesn't mean anything...right?" Neither of them answered, "Right?..." I croaked again as my mother got to her feet and staggered over to me.
"Look at your neck..."She sounded strangled as she spoke, words only just escaping from her lips, "Look what he's done to you." I put my hand up to my neck, only now feeling how cold it was. In panic I ran to the bathroom, stretching it towards a mirror so that I could see. On my neck was a snowy white mark, a small curling fern that looked like it was made from ice but wouldn't budge from my skin. Without even realising I had been marked.
The year seemed to pass quickly; every morning waking with the dread of knowing that I had one less day left with my parents, one less day before I was offered to the monster, one less day before I met my fate. I tried to ignore it at first and while the sun was shining and I was laughing with the other vikings or helping out on the boats or running through the bracken with Toothless I could easily push it aside. But when night came I felt the cold burn at my neck, reminding me that after summer came autumn and after autumn, winter.
There were many arguments between my parents; my mother didn't want to let me go, my father insisted that we had to now; the elders of course had the final decision. They said that if I was given correctly this act could appease the daemon for longer than one winter and while no one wanted to rejoice it was agreed that that was best.
On the night of the winter solstice I found myself standing in my kitchen, preparing to go, surrounded by a few of the elders and my parents. I shivered, dressed with only a piece of white linen round my waist and bronze vambraces round my wrists. One of the older women smeared red paint on my body in markings and across my cheeks; for sacrificial traditions. My mother came round to my side, reaching into my hair.
"Here," She smiled sadly as she began to weave one of the locks, "the bead is supposed to bring good luck. And I pray the gods give it to you son." I nodded, trying to reassure her.
"I'll be fine." I smiled, though I was trying to convince myself more.
"It is time." One of the elders looked sternly and my mother grabbed me; embracing me tightly. My father joined, the three of us holding on for one last moment before we broke apart and I was taken from the house.
The cold hit me hard, my whole body locking as I stepped out, toes going numb instantly in the snow limbs shaking. The air was calm as we walked towards the edge of the cliff, overlooking the dark sea in the pale moonlight. A pole was nailed to the ground and they told me to sink to my knees so that they could tie me by the vambraces to it, a small attempt to stop me from running. By now though I had accepted that it was too late; I would be given to the daemon and devoured as a sacrifice tonight and that would be my fate. I bowed my head as they left, knowing that they were all watching from the safety of their homes and waiting for the moment.
My legs burnt in the snow and I let out a small hiss of pain, urging it to be over soon. And that was when I heard it; a small voice carried in my the wind that seemed to whisper in the edge of my ear.
"You came..." It was a lot gentler than I expected and my head flicked up but I saw nothing. Then the wind started, blowing snow up into the air that wrapped around me and obscured the edge of the cliff from view. Now when I looked I could make out a figure coming towards me through the veil of snow, a dark shape moving slowly closer. I closed my eyes tightly in anticipation; hearing only the howl of the wind and the crunch of it's footsteps. Then I felt a coldness on my cheeks and unable to bare it I let my eyes flash open.
A hooded figure stared back at me, fingers trailing over my face almost lovingly, bright blue eyes meeting mine intently. His cold hands traveled over my shoulder, draining the last of my heat as they slid over my back and down to where my wrists were tied. As I was freed I fell forwards, body exhausted from the freezing cold, chest bumping against his as he supported me for a moment, arms slowly encircling me. And suddenly in my weariness I didn't feel scared. I didn't feel like I was in the arms of a monster who would devour me; I felt like I was in the arms of a savoir who would take me away from the cold. So I closed my eyes and let myself tumble into darkness and wherever he would take me.
I'm not really sure what made me write this but there will be a few more chapters later, though I don't intend to make it too long! There will be more explanations and some Frostcup later on though! And just for anyone who doesn't know, daemons are spirits which can be good or bad!
I hoped you enjoyed, thanks for reading! :)