Chapter 1: All Washed Up
I wake up and everything hurts, my arms, my legs, my head, and all life itself. I am not sure where I am or how I got here. All I feel is pain and then I remember what had happened. There's a lot to cover, therefore, I'm not sure on where to begin. To make things easier and avoid confusion, I will start at the beginning. The beginning….
But first, let me get a quick look at my surroundings. I'm on another island it is rocky and covered with sand. My boat is found capsized as I peered through what was left of the hull.
Flipping over the boat and getting to my feet, I grab my sash bearing my tribes crest, my knife, my bow and quiver. Then reach for my utility built bearing my sword and a few other nifty tools. I am a warrior, and regrettably, I'll be Chieftain of the Hairy Heroes tribe.
As I start walking off the beach, toward a smoke cloud. That meant land, fire, people, and most importantly food. As I walked for what seemed like forever, the first things I came to determine about this place is how cold it was. For Thor's sake it was freezing here! I instantly regretted not thinking ahead and packing warmer clothes.
After walking for what seemed like forever, I had set my sights on the first person I had seen in months and got ready to greet her. Then, in the fleeting edges of my vision, I saw a dragon, a Deadly Nadder if I'm not mistaken, stalking her.
I draw my sword out of its sheath and grappled my shield. Strapping my quiver on and filling it with arrows, I collected my bow and put it on my back. I was ready for battle, and thirsty for revenge in those who did me wrong.
I had gripped my sword rose my sword and shield at chest height and charged out of the bush and toward the mysterious, murderous, unknown, deadly nadder while releasing my famous battle cry into the air. Revealing my presence to the shocked girl and the dragon.
Three months earlier….
I needed a ship. I needed to get supplies for my family. My father was sick, he had some disease. I am not sure what it was called, but it was slowly eating away at him. I might be just a boy, but I was a boy on a mission. I won't let anything get in my way. The only cure was with trader Johann and unfortunately, he was on his way to another island!
I left the meeting hall and ran at full speed toward the food storage only stopping to undo the lock, when inside I quickly grabbed 3 fresh loaves of delicious, wholesome bread, 5 empty canteens and hastily filled them up to the top with crisp, clean, and refreshing water. I swiftly closed the door and secured the brass lock to the wooden handle bars, locking it once again.
I start to run again, but this time toward the forest. Why run towards the forest, why not the boat docks? To put things into perspective, I have some important friends, being the chief's son, and a great vikings sees to that, but one of my best friends lives out in secret, where no one would ever dare step foot.
He is one of my secrets nobody would ever about, not a single soul. Whenever I had a problem I would go to him and he would listen. Whenever I felt sad or angry, he understood me and found ways to make me feel better. The same was true in the opposing direction, whenever he left lonely or afraid, I would drop what I'm doing and be there for him.
I've decided I'm going to take him with me to help me save me father, and I had multiple reasons for doing so. Just like every decision there is to make, there were the pros and there are the cons, but in this particular situation, the good outweighed the bad.
But why him? Of all the friends that I've made over the course of years, why would I take him with me? Why would I even think about befriend him, make daily visits to see him, and care for him so deeply?
The answer is simple; he had saved my life, but at the cost of his own safety, his survival hanging on my mercy alone. During his act of bravery, a part of him had been painfully amputated from his body, permanently rendering him helpless. I was six years old, when a dragon had saved my life.
I will remember that night for the rest of my life. We never leave each other's side, we will always protect one another, we were friends for life, and forevermore.
Eight years ago...
The dragons were attacking again, I lay on my bed wanting it all to end, the death of family and friends, the war, and the dragons, especially the dragons, I hated them with every fiber in my body. When I was little, I used to scared of them. They were huge, so huge in fact, they could eat 100 vikings in one gulp, and they had sharp claws that could destroy everything in its path. The wings could cause massive bursts of wind that could make even the strongest of vikings fly backwards. They could even breath fire, fire so hot it can melt metal.
Their scales are thick and could withstand almost any attack. Their teeth were so sharp and deadly it could easily cut through armor with ease, and lastly their tail it was sharper than any sword that I have ever seen and trust me I've seen tons of swords.
There are many, many, many kinds of dragons, so we have to keep track of them all to know how to beat them. Therefore, we have this book we keep; a record of sorts.
It contains everything we know and have learned about dragons about all the breeds and species we've encountered: What classifications and categories they fall into, what they like to eat, where and how they sleep, what all the different eggs look like, how and when they use their fire, and so, so much more.
I memorized the contents of the book and applied it to situations. I know every little thing there is to know about dragons. Out of all the dragon species and types that exist, I was scared of the Night Fury the most, for it was the smartest, and the most elusive of all the other dragons.
We know close to nothing about it, for no one has ever been successful in catching one, let alone killing one. The Night Fury has many ways to shoot fire, like in small, power plasma blast.
The Night Fury is also sneaky, it can furiously attack and then just disappear in a blink of an eye, almost as if they were not even there to begin with. Finally, when you thought it was all over and the confusion ebbs away, there is another sharp hiss of wind, another devastating plasma blast, and another fire somewhere else in the village.
After All, we have the armory. I love the big and dangerous weapons that are kept there, I loved looking at them every morning on my way to breakfast, helping the smith clean them. It kept me thinking that if the dragons attacked we would be ready. Yet deep down, I wondered if what is the dragons realized they could take more than cattle and animals, what if they realized there was so much more...
Suddenly, there was a large boom, so large it made the floor, walls, and ceiling shake. I pulled the covers up to my shoulders and lightly bit my tongue to keep my teeth from chattering. I was scared, no, it was more than just simply being scared. Terrified would be the better word.
What if a dragon was attacking the house right now, no. A dragon never went this far into the village they only take cattle and leave. What I said earlier was just a stupid, random thought, there is no way!
There aren't any food storages nearby, they were all near the center of the village, and this house was far from there. Well, not far enough to not hear the fights, but far enough force the dragons not having to come back here. Maybe they came the opposite direction this time, or maybe from both sides. Now that I'm thinking about it, dragons aren't that smart...or are they?
Then, there was another boom closer this time, close. There was a crack above me, then another, and another. Soon, the ceiling started shaking and so did the walls. A dragon was ripping the ceiling off! I started to get up then the floor shook as I stood on my two feet. I stumbled and nearly fell.
Quickly righting myself, I walked towards the door leading out of my room. I touched the doorknob and it burnt my hand. Burnt it. Fire! The house was under attack!
Out of panic I took my shirt off and tightly wrapped my hand in the cloth and opened the door. The familiar oak and cedar wood steps leading down to the lower level was now engulfed in flames and the lower floor was a ready destroyed and it continued to burn right in front of me. I heard the hiss and crackle as the hot orange flames slowly grew to devour the door.
"That's it." was all I thought, I was trapped.
On one side: there was a fire so big it would engulf me and wouldn't leave a trace, and on the other: a dragon with its sharp teeth and tearing claws. Its powerful tail and deadly and destructive fire breathing abilities that could just as easily kill a small viking boy.
Despite my delima, I smirked. If I died, my parents would avenge my death. I hoped they would torture the sick, demonic, evil, freak of nature that dared kill their only son!
I was torn from my thoughts, the fire had started on the floor I was standing on. The floor was burning! Then, the ceiling was ripped out of place. The dragon saw me. The choking smell of fire burned my nostrils, the heat of the fire was so hot, I was sweating. It was the middle of winter. The winter is cold, cold, and I was sweating profusely.
I looked at my sweat drenched clothes then at the night sky it was a starry night and the moon was huge. There was only one way I could describe it: breathtaking. It is a peaceful way to die. I thought. I looked back at the dragon with fear and I got a good look at it to the stars as the moon lit up the dragon's features perfectly.
Midnight black scales, slitted emerald brown eyes, and sharp, pointy, pearly white teeth. The dragon was a Night Fury! The rarest and deadliest of them all. Possibly the last of its kind from what I heard. It retracted its teeth and was reaching to pick me up when a burning piece of a wall had fallen and ripped part of its tail off as it tried to pull away. It uttered a terrible scream of pain as it's blood began to burn the floorboards!
It retracted its teeth. I felt a burning pain in my leg I looked behind me and the pant leg of my pajamas was burning. I patted the fire out but the fire had left nothing but my skin exposed and the tips of the pants so I ripped the rest off.
The dragon brushed off the wall off its back retracted its teeth once more showing its pink gums and picked me up with its mouth and jumped off the burning building. It flailed in the air, and I realized it could not fly without its tail.
Thankfully, the dragon landed safely and its four legs, behind the house and set me down. I was safe, I was whole, I was unscathed. The dragon gave me one last longing look almost as if it knew me, before he smiled and fled into the woods. Out my sight. It's strange, familiar grin, burying itself in my memory.
I heard my name being called so I ran toward the front of the destroyed house and ran into my dad's outstretched arms. He was crying and praying to every one of the gods he could think of, thanking them for keeping me safe.
We hugged and we saw all dragons flying away from the island. All but one. I thought in my head. My dad who was the tribe chief had asked me how I had survived, he said he had seen a deadly nadder shoot at the house and set it on fire. The truth and realization had hit me like a hard punch in the gut.
I was saved by a dragon, but not just any dragon, a Night Fury.
"I owe that dragon my life." I thought.
My dad had repeated the question and I, to protect him, lied to keep his existence a secret. After all, I did owe him my life.
"I saw the dragons flying towards the house, I ran out before they started to burn it down."
None of the vikings had seen what had happened after the house was struck because they turned their attention back to the fighting dragons. They accepted the lie but wasn't satisfied as they began the reconstruction of several houses and important buildings.
I had found where the dragon had fled off to later that next day. I looked for it the morning after the incident and found him, stuck flightless and defenseless in the thick, dark, woodlands. Not knowing how it'll react to seeing me, I went in with a small barrel of fish, some raw chicken, and 2 large jugs of water.
Daily for six months I would attempt to talk to the dragon and toss him chicken and different kinds of fish. After some time had passed, I think I had befriended it and managed to think of a name to call him: Nightshadow.
He seems to like the name because he would respond to the commands I gave him. For example I would ask him to sit and he would sit. I would ask him to shoot fire and he would shoot small plasma blast that would cause whatever came in contact with the plasma ball would be set aflame. I had learned the ball itself is a purplish blue color.
After a long six months of sneaking off to train, study, test, and learn about each other, Nightshadow and I have become not just friends, but an inseparable pair.
People started to question me about what happen a few months ago and why I keep disappearing. They have no clue what happened. Yet, I remember it as clear as glass. I would never tell anyone how I truly managed to elude death.
If my tribe knew the truth, they would force me to tell me the location of my best friend, and savior. They would kill him. They will treat his body like some prize and sell his hollowed out corpse for a few measly pieces of gold. I will do whatever it takes, to make sure that does not happen.