The great horn blew, and and the march began. The song rang out in ancient tongue, a prayer to the God of Winter to spare them from the harsh cold and wind for another year, and in return they would give a sacrifice. The sacrifice, a chieftains daughter, would be sacrificed to the God, to appease him. However this year was different, this year the chieftain of the clan, Stoick The Vast, only had a frail, weak son to give to the God of Winter. The sons name, Hiccup, born of Valka the Wise and Stoick the Vast. At the age of 15, the boy was smaller then most females in the village, and much weaker. He had been brought into the world sooner then most, barely giving out a cry as he was swaddled fresh from his mothers womb. He gave a small hiccup, the only real sign that he was alive. Since that day he'd been an outcast, frail and weak in a world where you must be strong to survive. When his father had told him he would be given as a sacrifice to the God of Winter, Hiccup merely nodded, knowing that this must be the only purpose of his life. They had adorned him in fresh white linens, and golden let and chains around his wrists. A veil of gold rested atop his dark chestnut curls, his face adorned in red streaks of paint. The marchers came to a stop at the base of the highest mountain.
"Hiccup, it is time." Stoick beckoned the boy to come forward. Hiccup stepped forward from the center of the group, making his way to stand next to his father.
"Do I really have to wear these chains?" Hiccup mumbled.
"Yes, it is part of the ritual." Stoick held a saddened tone to his voice. "I'm sorry it has to be like this son..."
Hiccup looked up at his father. "It's okay, as the son of the chieftain it's my duty to serve my people."
Stoick nodded, his eyes glistening slightly. "I'm proud of you son."
Hiccup gave one last smile, before continuing to walk forward, farther up the mountain. He came to a stop when suddenly the mountain began to shake, an great wind storm of snow and ice enveloping him.
"So they sent a boy this time?" The voice was smooth, and kind, a hint of questioning in it. "Interesting."
Hiccup tried not to shiver in the cold, but failed miserably as the wind whipped over his barley covered body. The veil was torn from his head, and blew into the whirlwind, seemingly about to be torn to shreds, before a hand burst out and grabbed it. The hand was pale as snow, with intricate tattoos of snowflakes resting on the forearm. The owner of the arm emerged from the wind storm, a cloak with clouds for trim, and the knight sky as the fabric following behind wore pure white silk around his hips, a golden belt with intricate blue vines weaving throughout it. His hair was a light bluish white, with a golden crown resting atop his head. He showed no sign of being cold despite his exposer.
"A-Are you the God o-of Winter?" Hiccup asked, shivering in the cold.
"Good guess, what gave it away?" The god chuckled. "My name is Höðr, but you can call me Frost. And what is your name, chieftains son?"
"My name is Hiccup, son of Stoick the Vast and Valka the Wise." Hiccup got on his knees and bowed before the God. "I offer myself to you in exchange for my people's safety this winter."
Frost looked at the boy for a long while.
"No deal."
"What!?" Hiccup shot up. "Why!"
"I was promised a daughter, not a son." Frost answered, looking down at the boy sternly. "You and your people have broken the ritual oath to provide me with a chieftains daughter, for that you must pay."
"No! Please, do whatever you wish to me, just please don't hurt my people!" Hiccup begged.
"You want to protect the same people that were willing to sacrifice you, give you up to an unknown fate." Frost scowled at the boy.
Hiccup thought for a second before nodding. "Yes! I would do anything to protect my people, even if it means my life. So please, I beg of you take your anger out on me, not them."
"Very well then, if you wish to take their punishment, so be it."
A strong gust of wind hit Hiccup hard, throwing him into the whirlwind. The whirlwind spun him around tearing his clothes to shreds, cutting his bare flesh deeply. Frost summoned up dozens of sharp blades of ice, throwing them in all directions. On nicked Hiccups ear, another stabbed through his arm, yet another into his leg, his stomach, cutting across his cheek. Frost brought the whirlwind to an end after what seemed like an eternity to Hiccup. When the wind finally died down, they could see that the marchers had all returned back to their homes. Hiccup fell backward, pain shooting through him through all his open wounds.
"You humans are truly pathetic. You say that you're willing to take on pain, but then you're never willing to own up to it." Frost turned walked past the boy. "Let's see if your village can withstand this pain."
"Stop!"
Frost turned to see that hiccup was now on his feet, walking towards the God.
"Don't hurt them, as long as I'm alive, as long as I can still stand and take your abuse, I will not stop."
Frost looked at the boy in astonishment. 'He shouldn't be alive, let alone able to walk.'
"Please, great God of winter, spear my people." Hiccup now stood in front of the God, tears welling in his eyes. "Take all your anger out on me."
The God looked at the boy for a long few minutes, before giving a soft chuckle.
"I like you... I think I'll keep you around." With that the God kissed Hiccup, enveloping him in his cloak, as another whirlwind in turn enveloped them.