This is Berk. A cliff of rock and moss. However, every place has its secrets, and this little village is no exception.
One of these secrets is dragons.
It's been a month since Drago Bludvist and his Bewilderbeast attacked Berk. A month since Hiccup Haddock the Third and his Night Fury Toothless became the chief and alpha of both humans and dragons. A month since a dark and terrible chapter of Berk has come and gone.
A month since Stoick the Vast perished heroically on the battlefield.
And that's where Hiccup was. Mourning his father at a large engravement of the great chief at the great hall.
Dad, have I made you proud? Are you happy of who I am? Hiccup wondered to himself. Toothless gently grunted next to him and laid his head against Hiccup's body.
Behind him, he heard wings and a familiar screech. The young chief turned his head to find his beloved Astrid Hofferson and her blue Deadly Nadder Stormfly swooping down from above.
She's always so gorgeous, Hiccup thought with a big smile on his face.
"Morning, my chief. I'd figure you'd be here," Astrid said, flipping her golden blonde hair out of her face. Toothless and Stormfly shook the ground as they chased and played with one another.
"Yeah. I mean, it's still so weird that he's not roaming around, bossing everyone around." He then impersonated his father in his recognizable tough and gruff voice.
Astrid could not help but laugh heartily. She then walked up to Hiccup and planted a big kiss on his cheek. Hiccup immediately blushed.
"Come on. The others are waiting for us back on the Dragon's Edge. Gobber can take care of things here."
Hiccup glared down the hill, towards Gobber's forge. Below, Gobber and his Hotburple, Grump. Together, the one-armed and one-legged Viking and the lazy, fat dragon managed the forge and its long line of waiting villagers.
Hiccup saddled onto Toothless and Astrid climbed atop of Stormfly. They soared in the direction of the Dragon's Edge and towards the endless sea.
Meanwhile, over a fog-cloaked island far from Berk, a man sat and closed his red eyes. He was large, his rough, tan skin covering his bulging muscles. He wore black armor made of dragon hide, and two horns protruded out of his skull. He didn't possess teeth, but fangs, and claws, not nails, laid retracted beneath his gloves.
Behind him, a man shook and shivered. He was small and scrawny, and was shackled. Two bigger men behind him nudged him with their swords and axes. They also wore dragon armor, but in red rather than black.
"What is your name?" the mysterious man asked in a deep and cold voice. He didn't even turn his head.
"O-Olav. S-son of C-Canute," the scrawny man barely managed to pronounce through chittering teeth.
"And do you know why you have been brought before me?"
"N-no, L-lord Eric I-Ironside?"
"I am Eric Ironside. Son of Fafnir. And you, dragon hunter, have committed crimes against dragonkind. As punishment, you must relinquish your soul."
"No! Please! Lord Ironside! Please forgive me! I won't do it again! Have mercy!"
Eric then picked up the dragon hunter and hurled him off the cliff like nothing. Eric had no remorse as he heard the screams drift down towards the sea.
Just then a little Terrible Terror arrived with a letter. The little green dragon sat on Ironside's shoulder as he read it aloud.
Found the Edge. Awaiting your command. Fleets, infantry, and dragons are on standby. We await your command.
After taking a minute to think, Eric replied on the back of the note, do not engage. I would like to have a talk with Hiccup Haddock first. Only engage if I am compromised.
He then attached the letter to the Terrible Terror and it took off, back in the same direction it came from.
Eric's face grew a smile.
"We will meet soon, Hiccup. Then you will suffer for all that you and your friends have done to dragons. To my family."