Fishlegs wondered around the library, trapped in his own little world, naming book after book as he passed it's covers, being reminded of their content with a delightful hum.
Stroking his chubby chin, were his neck should be, he reached his meaty hand to the top book on the shelf. It was the last book he had yet to read that the Vikings possessed. He had saved all the books in the village from dirty hands only reaching for them for fire fuel or butt whippers.
His house was crammed full of them, reaching all the way to his attic. His dragon, Meatlug, was not impressed for she was shooed outside to the small shed where she and Fishlegs sleep.
Fishlegs egualy, but gently, took the hard covered book down from its place and shuffled off to the middle of his house which had a reading desk waiting for him.
His fingers twitched at the corners, what was he about to discover in it's pages? He hoped he would find more new dragon documents or far away lands yet to be found by Hiccup who was currently out flying the sky's with his night fury, toothless, making a remarkable map of the world. He held his breath and looked at the first page. A dull, crooked writing, was looking up at him.
Story of the wretched eggs.
Fishlegs nearly jumped out of his tightly squeezed pants, he had never heard of Wretched Eggs, was it a new dragon? He hoped.
The book was full of detailed drawings and rich words he had never seen before, the boarders of every page was covered in golden flowers, made with unnatural looking paste. With every page he read his body started to tremble, if what he was reading was true, he had just discovered the tale of the creation of dragons.
Hiccup opened his arms, letting the cold breeze fly through his hair, around his body and fall far behind him. He was not cold nor warm, but in a perfect balance. They were gliding over the clouds, getting stung by the little droplets of water, daring to venture from it's puffy home.
Toothless readied his plasma with a high pitched noise, the sound traveling around hiccups head. He braced himself, holding his body close to his friends in a failed attempt to avoid the ash and smoke which came after it.
Blue plasma shot out, signifying his arrival at his village, Berk. A cold miserable place that snows nine months of the year and hails the other three. All the food their grows tough and tasteless, and the people even more so. The only upside was the dragons, who painted Berk with their never ending colours and brilliant personalities. Once they were hunted and killed, but now, after Hiccup met Toothless and changed minds about dragons, they were now kept as pets, or really, family.
As they passed the rock statutes, to ward off other Vikings, they neatly landed in the middle of town where they were greeted by the Vikings who used to give him the cold shoulder but now gave him their up most attention.
The crowd was swarming with all sorts of fokes, from the fat to the fatter, from small children to the oldest of Vikings, but all had one thing in common, they wanted something.
Most wanted to get hiccup too look at their dragons, for they were ill or wanting new riding gear, others wanted riding lessons, then the most rare wanted to see how he was going and what he had discovered.
Still on toothless, he made his way though the crowd, ordering them to line up at the shop, line up at the training centre or line up at the tavern.
He almost took off again to find a quieter place to rest, but picked up Fishlegs excited chants amongst the crowd. He saw his friends sausage fingers reach out of the swarm of people, "meet me at the library!" He screeched, and left trotting excitedly as hiccup recognised his request with a nod. Whatever Fishlegs found, hiccup thought to himself, it was really important or just plane awesome.
He gave a quick apology to the crowd and willed Toothless to take flight. It was only a short time until he reached Fishlegs door before Fishlegs arrived. He took the spare time to unsaddle and guide toothless to Meatlug, who slept lazily in the shed. He wished he could bring Toothless in with him but the small space between the shelves bearly fit Fishlegs let alone a dragon. But Toothless didn't want to wait around the the big news and flew up to Fishlegs roof and sat himself close to the window where he could listen in. Hiccup was amused and ventured inside to the middle of the house.
"Can you hear me, bud?" He asked, and got a night furry raw in response. Fishlegs rushed in, holding his heart as he took one large and forced breath after the other.
"Big.." He huffed, "dragons..." He weased, "awesome.." He collapsed on the near by chair, holding a fat finger to Hiccup, signifying for him to wait.
"Big awesome dragon, how can I wait for that?" Hiccup laughed, taking his place on the corner of the desk. Fishlegs pushed the book towards Hiccup, nodding and smiling at the same time. Hiccup picked it up, expecting a new species of very large dragon filling it's pages, but found a child's story instead.
Long long ago, when the world was at peace, when man ruled all. Where no beast roamed with destruction, where villages fear none. A brave group of travellers and a painter set out to discover new land. Many were confused why they would do such thing, for there was plenty of food, and enough land for another six thousand generations. These men wanted adventure, the kind you could not get in your own home town. They built a boat, large enough to supply them with weeks of food and water plus plenty of space, however small but strong. The painter took upon himself to dress the ship the native blues and golds, creating the most beautiful of structures that land had ever seen. They knew not of the horrors they were to encounter of their journey, and set off at a rising sun.
Crunchycough, the leader of the group, a handsome young fellow, who walked with a limp, held out a blank piece of parchment to the painter and ordered he documented all land they discover in as much detail as his paintings, the painter agreed, egure to travel the endless world.
Smallear, the captains right hand man, road the ores with his powerful arms which impressed any maiden who passed. Along with his brother, Stickbutt, who had the equal thickness as his brothers, however lacking a friendly face. The four friends sung merrily their national amthon the whole voyage.
The brave, the bold, the beautiful and the brainy
No ones better then us matey!
We are strong
Never wrong
Not very scary
Just a little hairy
Never a Viking as better then us!
They scaled many lands, marched over many oceans, travelled many months away from there home, but never forgetting it's beauty.
The painter was looking over the map as it happened. The boat hit a large grey rock, eating away it's left side and gashing from the wound was many buckets of water. The only thing salvaged other then their lives was the painters map. They hugged the cliff of the dead island. This was the darkest, they had ever encountered.
Mountainous black stone, dusty at touch was all that was on the island. It's sharp edges and uneven placing nearly cost the travellers their lives.
Finally, after what felt like hours of torture, they collapsed in a deep cave at the edge of the cliff. With no wood for a fire they huddled together, shivering as white snow started to fall outside.
Three days had passed and bellies were beginning to rumble.
"We'll get through this," the painter said, "we always do." But the painters hope did not reach the others.
Smallear was the first to crack, even with his strong build his mind was as soft as a child. He took a handful of rock on a blizzard evening and forced it down his throat. He did this until his stomach could fit no more. Then travelled to the back of the deep dark cave where a deep deep hole sat. Uncrossable and to dark to see the bottom Smallear hoped that water laid below and he was to swim to safety.
His friends pleaded him to stay, his brother pulling him back, but Smallear fought them off and jumped. He closed his eyes, waiting for the water to engulf him or to splat at the bottom.
After a while of very heavy breathing and not much excitement, he opened his eyes and stared at great darkness.
"Smallear.." Stickbutt gasped looking at his brother, suspended on the darkness. He was not falling, but lying on what they thought was the middle of the pit. Stickbutt reached out for his brother and fell himself, but lay on the darkness too.
There was no pit. It was an illusion. The painter rushed to the over side, he had read about places like this and he knew how to get across. The mountains would form tasks for animals to cross. Only the well educated or the strong could get past, to the other live side. Which was told to be filled with a plentiful land. It was only a tale but it was the only hope the travellers had.
They all travelled on and every step the cave became darker. More traps awaited them, most illusions like the first, but some were as life threatening as the mountain cliff. Walls that would cave in, ground covered in spikes and creatures which were never seen before thrived in the darkness, waiting for unexacting prey like the travellers to wonder into their claws. All these tasks were achieved by only working together with the strong and intelligent members.
The horror seemed to be over as they erupted into a very large opening in there path. A light, the thing they had not encountered in a long time, burst through a gap in the celling of the cave. It illuminated four very large rocks, which were decorated with the most vibrant patterns and colours.
A blue one which was covered in glowing moss and violet flowers supported itself on a flame coloured one. And next to those was a nearly pure white rock, painted with swirls and waves, then the last one was almost one with the ground, yet had a more Earthy look through it.
The painter could not help himself but draw these most excellent structures on the back of his map with the dustily rocks. The travellers searched the opening for the next path to take them out but after nearly half a day, there was no luck for finding a way out.
Crunchycough lent on one of the rocks as he caught his ragged breath. To his surprise the rock was oddly warm and if he stood still on it for long enough it would move.
Thinking it was another test, the leader raised his great fists and punched down hard on the rock. His companions joined him, taking there own rock to smash.
The painter pleaded with them to stop destroying such beautiful works of art, but they did not, insisting the painter join in to open them.
He had no choice but to obey, and lifted an oval stone as a weight to crack his. As he too smashed the rocks, the cave became darker and the sun rolled away for the moon to break free.
The painter stopped, and panted for breath as cold beads of sweat slid down his back. His hands had heated and were shaking from the effort of his smashing. Yet his night black stone did not break.
"AHA!" One of his companions called and they all rushed to him. There was a crack in his deep red rock he had been opening.
All the travellers helped together to open it up. It was hard labour, and with every swing of the fists and rocks, the cave began to heat up. Steam burst from the rock as the leader gave one last swing, and in union, all the other rocks cracked to life. They stepped back, waiting for their challenge. There was movement inside. And it did not take long for them to realise these were not just rocks, but eggs.
Hiccup nearly ripped at the page corner to reach the climax, but when he arrived at the next page, what met him was black scrawl which could have been mistaken for an horrible ink spill. Fishlegs hovered over him, engulfed in the book.
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
Plastered the next two pages. He had noticed the authors writing becoming forced and untidy as the story neared it's climax, but Hiccup just thought it was a bad copy, not a feature.
He looked uneasily at Fishlegs who merely turned to the next page and pointed with a fat finger to a line (or what should have been a line if the page had any type of structure). Hiccup read it out loud.
"I'm sorry for realising this terror onto the world. Let my comrades bones rip at the insides of these horrible beasts and this book remind the people of my cowardliness in the birth of the dragon."
Hiccup had to take a second for all of this world changing information to sink in.
Birth.
The birth of dragons?!
He read the sentence over and over, checking if he had not read it wrong. But it was right there in black and white, the birth of the dragon.
Hiccup turned his eyes to Fishlegs who's smile reached as far as his, he was about to celebate, however Fishlegs indicated that he was not finished.
On the very back of the cover, written in the far corner of the case, were you could only find if you were looking for it, was a tiny scribble in the authors hand writing.
My stone still rests in the cave of the dragon, still guarded by the beastly four. Beware. For the fifth has yet to come. Beware, of the wretched egg.
"Fishlegs, do you know what this means?" Hiccup gasped, the man in question was already jumping out of his seat, excitement untameable.
"A new species of dragon!" They screeched in union. The ecstatic cry from Toothless joined them, wings beating powerfully as his intelegant eyes flashed understanding. They were going on a new adventure!
Both boys burst from the library, racing to their dragons with a new bloom of determination.
The origins of dragons, Hiccup awed internally, and there's still one egg left!
His hands snatched onto Toothlesses saddle, his feet clicking into place as he lifted himself up. Meatlug was close behind him, Fishlegs opening crying out victory. They had to tell the others.
