Rights: Dreamworks and such. Not me. Nope
Previous Stories in the Dragons: Champions Series (In Order):
Standing Against, Standing Between
I Bring The Thunder
Dreams Of The Desolation
The World Needs Champions
Note: I have way too much material in these stories to ever properly sum up. I strongly suggest you start at the beginning of the series. Who knows, you might actually enjoy it.
Also, check my profile page for what is considered canon and non-canon in relation to this series.
Author's Irritating Notes:
One era ends and a new one begins, and I have decisions to make.
My goal with doing these HTTYD fanfics has always been two-fold: do things my way, but be loyal to the characters and world I dearly love. Having done four fanfics acting as a sequel series to HTTYD, I had already concluded that I wouldn't be able to use much from HTTYD 2 due to the rather significant gulf between my universe and the official one. I was set to toss it aside and keep doing my own thing.
But the truth is that no one reads fanfic just to read rehashes of the source material (at least, you shouldn't be – where's the fun in that?). Nor do I think you can outright ignore the entire official canon and expect fans to be happy about it, and a lot of things happened in HTTYD 2. Ironically, HTTYD 2 touched on a few themes that I might've pursued myself, and one thing I don't want to do is write stories where people think "Didn't I see this in the movie already?"
So I can't use HTTYD 2… but I can't ignore it either.
Instead, I will strive to incorporate what I can of HTTYD 2 into the Champions universe while adding my own flavor to it. Make no mistake, these next three stories are sequels to my ongoing series, not to HTTYD 2. But you will definitely see the movie's DNA in there.
And yes, three stories. They are not planned as the massive epics I did before, but they will be as long as needed. Story One (this one, A Random Occurrence) is centered completely on Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, and the whole Berk crew. Story Two is about Nestor, Arc, Saga, and the other Champions. Story Three will bring them all together. That's the game plan. And as always, I appreciate all of you for sticking with me.
Onward.
Prologue
When it came to describing your average village along the southern section of the North Sea, the verb sleepy showed up the most often. Little action, little culture, and little reason to visit any of them, and Goose Duck was as average as you got. But hours after sundown it was hardly sleepy, at least around the pub. Half the population spent their free time and meager coin enjoying the tolerable libations and even less tolerable company.
Random would've burned the place to the ground by now if she hadn't been instructed not to. Forced to occupy a barstool every night for a week straight, waiting for some fool to bring up the decades-old argument about changing the village name to either Goose or Duck and not keep the current idiotic village name born out of compromise, counting the peanuts in the nut bowl (seventy-four, incidentally) as a way to avoid conversation with a local oaf. At least most of the regulars had gotten the message and…
"Oh, hey, I don't remember you," said the newest local oaf.
Random kept her irritated sigh to herself. A halfway decent-looking man plunked himself on an adjacent barstool and was staring at her with a look that suggested he thought he even had a chance. A resident who hadn't gotten the message yet. Although Random's whole look was tailored to alienate and attract in equal proportions, it still surprised her that there was anyone left in the village that found her worth talking to. This crowd didn't go for women with long purple braids (yes, a die-job), or whose skin had the pallor of a polar bear, or whose clothes were more styled for warm-weather city life than northern climes. She did have a dancer's figure, but that was an inadequate compensation when compared to the strong aura of "outsiderness" she put out. And those few who tried usually found the conversation less than pleasant.
"No, somehow I don't think you would," she replied, keeping her eyes forward, her voice light in tone but strong in snark.
"Name's Fredrick," the local oaf stated as if she had asked. "You passing through?"
"Hopefully," she replied after a swig of… something from her flagon. She honestly couldn't tell what it was. The house special, apparently.
Clearly incapable of taking a hint, Fredrick pressed on. "What's it like, being on the road?"
"It's the opposite of here – exciting."
"Really? Great. I've been thinking of leaving to find my fortune down south, maybe go all the way to someplace like Paris, or Riki Poka. Hey, did you hear about what happened in Riki Poka? Those flying ships and the dragons?"
"I was there," she said absently, but she realized her mistake immediately after seeing the widening of Fredrick's eager eyes. Now she was never going to be rid of the guy.
"Really?" he said. "What was it like?"
"It was dramatic, but it's old news. Three-year-old news. Practically ancient history."
"Wow," said Fredrick, apparently easy to impress. "See, that's why I want to travel. I want to see that kind of excitement."
That was the moment that a resounding boom sounded out from the bar's open doorway, followed by a chorus of smaller, sharper echoes. Unfamiliar with the nature of such sounds, the bar patrons were slow to react. When a second major boom shook the tables and spilled a few mugs, even the slowest patron found the energy to get up and head for the door.
Fredrick gave Random a worried look and then joined the crowd, giving Random the freedom to let a smile come forth. Finally, the waiting was over. She promptly paid her tab (with a generous tip – they'd need the money soon) and walked outside into the chilly air, taking mental notes of the crowd's fearful reactions along with all the observational data she had to keep track of right now.
Much like the rest of the continent, dragons were rare creatures around Goose Duck, but most folks could recognize one flying overhead with little difficulty, even on a moonless night. The town's feeble torchlights allowed a rare glimpse of a wing here, a scale there, so there was little doubt as to what was above them. The confusing part came from the fires that seemed to come out of nowhere, the roof of one house erupting into orange-yellow flame, or the strange mini-booms resounding through the night, thunder without the lightning, though sometime a brief flash of red would show up in the sky, accompanying the sounds.
"Is this a dragon attack?" said a frightened nearby local.
"Has to be," said another one. "Old Man Horus just had his barn catch fire."
"His barn's always catching fire," commented a third local.
A cry for help motivated most of the crowd to stop staring and form a bucket brigade. As the crowd thinned, Random found herself out in the open and alone with her thoughts. She allowed herself a little giggle as the chaos intensified, the shouts of the locals desperately trying to save their homes mingling with the roar of thunder-like echoes and hungry conflagrations. It enveloped her, a symphony of fear that made her want to dance a little jig.
The sweet song of chaos. It always got the blood pumping.
There was a loud report over her head, coming from a swooping shadow, and one of the bar's doors abruptly acquired a massive splintery hole. Another pop, and the second door was equally holey. Random stared at the damage with growing glee. Even from a distance, even at night, the test was proving a spectacular success.
"Whoa," said an unwelcome voice. Random turned to find Fredrick holding his bucket of water and staring at the damaged doors dumbly. Had he come back to find her, or did he forget where the fire was? Either way, Random was too giddy to care.
"How'd that happen?" he said. "Did a dragon do that?"
"In a way," she answered.
"Huh?"
"Don't sweat the thinking, Freddy-boy," she added. "There are better people for that. And I believe the fires are that way."
Fredrick turned and ran for the nearest burning residence, spilling half the bucket before he got there. Random took this as a good time to leave before a session of question-the-stranger could start. She had all the data she needed, enough to satisfy her boss. And she had another job to get to, one that should prove far more exciting, and ultimately, tons more chaotic.
She'd have to pack a warmer coat, though. Berk could get pretty cold, so she'd heard.