Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All rights belong to Disney, Dreamworks, and Cressida Cowell.
At the early hours of dawn, a flutter of wings, or rather a monstrous sound of beating wings blew in the icy wind of Berk. The moon was hidden from the sky that night, creating a perfect setting for a raid. A strange humming noise was drawn from dragons' mouths overhead as they reached nearer and nearer to the Isle of Berk. A chant broke out amongst the dragons that went a little like this:
Steel may be a worthy blade
As well as wood and gold
But the fire inside our souls
Will devour all it holds
Be wary of its power
For it can turn tides
Brother 'gainst brother
Mother 'gainst child
Ye've been warned
Mere mortals
All at once the dragons dived down and attacked the village below setting many homes and sheep afire. From these houses jumped Vikings wielding double-bladed axes, ancient swords of glory, and maces to match the fiery breath of the dragons. Vikings leaped and bounded heroically over the dragons stealing their sheep back. Vikings reigned in dragons with their iron and rope nets, and threw stone weighted bolas into the sky to catch each dragon. Young teenagers ran around the village with water buckets, putting out the fire that rose up the wood walls of houses. It was definitely a mess on Berk tonight.
Berk had been fighting a war with dragons for many years; about seven generations. In all that time, you'd think they would come to a compromise. Sadly not. Both Vikings and dragons are known for their stubbornness, and they were not going to give up the fight.
The chanting of the dragons continued and buzzed through every ear. The verses were always the same, every raid, but it seemed ever changing as the dragons' voices rose and fell in volume. It is sad that the Vikings could not understand their words, since it was said in dragonese, because it was intriguing poetry, maybe a little dark, but still.
A group of ten, vulgar Vikings threw a net over a cluster of dragons, hauling them together. But the dragons just became fiercer under the restriction and pulled away from the net, flying into the night with Vikings still clutching to their legs.
More dragons took to the skies to follow their kind carrying bleating yews and sheep, their loot of the night, leaving the Vikings down below to pick up the pieces of another raid. Life for the Vikings was harsh, but the King of the Vikings, King Asher, could not think of a better life. The adrenaline rush of the raids, the satisfaction of sore muscles, and the brutal challenge of the raids brought fire to all Vikings' blood. He loved it as much as the next Viking. Nothing would ever change their minds. Nothing.
Hello readers! I hope you liked this chapter, but I realize it was a little short. More is on the way I promise, and hopefully I will be able to write more word wise. Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it.