Disclaimer I don't own How to Train your Dragon. I haven't owned it before, and I won't own it in the future. All rights go to the author of the books, Cressida Cowell and the company that made the much-loved films and series, Dreamworks.
It had started as a perfectly normal day. That's how all extraordinary days start off: normally. Hiccup was enduring another rather one-sided arguments with Mildew, the village grouch, about the living arrangements for Toothless. Mildew didn't actually give half a yak's ass about where Toothless lived . . . so long as it wasn't on Berk.
"That dragon can't live here!" Mildew protested. "Don't tell me you actually consider this evil beast to be safe! He's a danger to everything in Berk!" The 'evil beast' in question was being scratched and sat on by a bunch of village children, allowing himself to be used as a big, scaly toy. Stoick, who had silently been watching the entire time, sighed quietly. This guy never shut up.
"Oh, look at him, you grumpy old git!" Gobber told him. "You can't be telling me that the dragon that is currently playing with a bunch of five-year-olds is a danger to society! You're only saying this because you don't like dragons and want them all to leave!"
"Well, even if he doesn't hurt humans, what about our livestock?" Mildew debated. "That dragon could easily eat ten of our yaks and still have room for about five sheep!"
"Toothless doesn't even eat farm animals! He eats fish, for Thor's sake!" Hiccup pointed out. People were beginning to leave Mildew's side and go to Hiccup. The old cabbage farmer was beginning to get desperate.
"Don't listen to the boy!" the old man preached. "Hiccup may use long, honeyed words to talk about these vicious creatures, but at the end of the day, what you're seeing is a Night Fury, the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself, the bringer of misfortune, feared and despised!"
At that point, people began to scream and look up. Mildew turned around with shock to see a tall, hooded figure step out of a hideous black hole in the sky. Their lanky figure was concealed by a simple black hooded cloak, and their thin hands grasped a scythe. Thin, pale, bony-looking hands that looked like they belonged to a skeleton.
"Who dares say that Night Furies are the offspring of lightning and death?" the figure boomed. Like an idiot, Mildew stepped forward.
"That would be me," the cabbage farmer admitted, somewhat proudly.
"Well, you need to stop saying such things," the hooded figure proclaimed, sounding self-righteous and important. Mildew laughed in their face.
"And who are you supposed to be?" he sneered. The figure removed their black hood to reveal that they had a skull where their face was supposed to be. More people screamed. Some fainted. A few ran away.
"I am Death," the figure answered simply. Mildew was terrified.
"Are we all going to die?" he whimpered.
"Well, of course you will eventually, because that's how life works for humans," Death replied. "I just need to give you all a message about what Night Furies are really made of, because they're certainly no offspring of mine, unholy or not. I also need to collect someone that should have been collected a long time ago."
"Then what are Night Furies made of?" Mildew asked. The lower jaw of the skull twisted upwards into a grin.
"Why, fire and shadows, of course," Death replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Shadows?" Mildew screeched.
"Yes, of course," Death replied. "It explains the scales. And how do you think they are so stealthy and secretive? Clearly the offspring of shadows, for they also make no noise. And obviously they have fire. Have you seen them lately?" A few villagers laughed.
"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Hiccup asked eagerly.
"You know, fire and shadows are only the physical components. Their behavioural habits are a mix of four animals," Death explained. "Cats, dogs, birds and bats."
"That explains a lot," Hiccup commented. "Night Furies do sleep upside down when they want to."
"And the Night Fury's personality, if you can call it that, is a complete melting pot," Death continued. "There's lots of cunning, that's for sure. Night Furies are very intelligent." Toothless preened behind him. "And very smug, too." Toothless' jaw dropped and he looked at Death like he'd just served him a plate of wiggling eels. "That's right; I said it." Hiccup choked down laughter at Toothless' shocked face. "Oh, don't look at me like that! I'm just trying to straighten a few things out here!" Death protested. "I'm not in charge of any of this!"
"Anything else?" Hiccup asked.
"They're also insanely loyal to their chosen being. Before, that would be the Night Fury's mate, but this particular Night Fury has chosen you. You should know that this is an extremely high honour, never before bestowed on a human. Which leads to another quality of Night Furies: a good judge of personality, human or dragon. And quite frankly, I agree with him." Toothless apparently forgave Death for calling him smug and went over for a scratch, which he got. Mildew used that as proof that he was right all along, never mind that Death itself warned him not to and told him what Night Furies were really born from.
"Ha! I knew it! Night Furies have a special relationship with Death!" Mildew shrieked. Death stared at him coldly. A hush falls over the crowd. Death itself approached Mildew with fire in the black eyeholes where eyes should be.
"I warned you not to say such things," Death growled. "You would probably keep your mouth shut if you knew who I had to collect."
"Who is it, huh?" Mildew asked, literally trying to push Death around. "It's Gothi, isn't it? Always knew the crazy old bat was going to kick the bucket one of these days."
"It's not Gothi, you lunatic," Death informed. "It's you." Mildew turned white. He opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish.
"I-i-is this tr-true?" the old man stammered. Death grabbed him by the collar of his tunic and dragged him to the portal, which had been open the entire time.
"Nobody jokes around about Death, because Death doesn't joke around," Death eerily explained, as Mildew was dragged away. Mildew screamed and begged for his life, but once he was through the portal, the screams only became quieter. Once the portal was closed, the sound of screaming stopped altogether. Hiccup, Toothless and the few Vikings that hadn't fainted or ran away continued to stare in disbelief. A silent agreement was made between what few witnesses were left to never speak about what had happened to Mildew.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death, either.