Hello my wonderful readers. This story is almost like none you will ever read. I got the idea - kinda - from "The Valhalla Crystal By: Kathryn Mills" (Which I seriously recomend you read because, OMG, I've read it like 15 times now. I'm in love with it.)
I do not own any of Dreamworks How To Train Your Dragon!
Since the beginning of time, the gods had been around. They watched their creatations, the Vikings, walk around and concuer the harsh world the gods put them upon. Those were the lighter days. When the Vikings cared about family. Loyalty.
Then came the dark days.
The days when Vikings started to notice some of their children were 'less than wanted' so they sent them off on boats. Started to not care as much about family, and more about strength. About wealth. While there were the few tribes who cared about the Tribe, and their families, they still kept to 'tradition' of sending off their unwanted children.
Until one small child came along.
He was small. Born too early into this world. He was just barely big enough for his father to have to hold him with two hands. His mother, scared that he wouldn't survive, pleaded with the village elder to let him stay. That he'd become a great, strong viking. But even she herself didn't believe it.
But the boys father did. When he looked down at the small babe, he saw intellegent sparkling emerald eyes. Dirty auburn hair. He cooed at his father and never cried. Just stared. Intelligent and gentle. It was the father who convenced the elder to let him stay.
But then the mother died when the babe was only one, carried off by dragons. The gods knew that she was fine, infact, it was them who'd created the dragons. They knew what gentle creatures they were. But the vikings thought of them as beast. Things to kill. Things that didn't think or feel.
From that point on, the babe was closely watched by his father. But when he was five, he was starting to become hated. Disliked if you want to say. The other children his age called him names. The adults turned their backs. Even the childs own father didn't pay the greatest of attention to him.
And that's when the gods knew who he was.
There has always been that one viking who a god loved like their own. The one child that one special god felt a connection to. Every child viking in that village had a god that felt for them like that. But the most important one, was the child whom no one liked.
One god felt a very special connection to him. He knew where he was coming from. He was an outcast without being an outcast. He wouldn't ever be accepted. Though he was just like them in many-a-ways, he would never truly be accepted. He was hated. Disliked, take your pick.
And so that made him form a connection with the small child that no other god had ever done. He started to talk to the child when he was alone. Giving him advice and telling him to ignore them. When the times weer toughest, he did his best to pull the child through. He once failed though. When he was seven, that was the first time the child had been hit by his own kin. The boy had run into the forest and stayed their for three days. Didn't eat. Didn't drink. He even ignored his godly friend, which almost made the god break into tears.
It shocked the other gods. Though they did indeed love the ones they protected, they never thought of speaking with them. Pulling them through things and giving them advice. They couldn't imagine gaining that sort of feeling with a mortal, when they would just die eventually.
But this god was different anyways, so he went with what his heart told him for the first time in a long time. He talked the child into going back home. When he was scolded very throughly by his father, the god talked over him. The child still heard his father, but it didn't hurt as much.
But when the child was fifteen, he became more and more different. Things happened, and he didn't truly need his godly friend anymore. His tribe accepted him, and so did his friends. But then other started to hear about the child. The child who could tame dragons.
He got captured over and over. He always escaped with a bit of help from the god, but one time, it was different. Most times, it was Alvin, or Dagur. This time, it was someone who knew about the gods. Knew their liking to certain vikings.
They were god trappers, and damn good ones. Many gods had fallen victim to them, becoming trapped in elements that attacked their own. They couldn't escape, and any god who tried to help got captured as well.
But the trappers wanted one god in perticular, and would do anything to get him. They knew of his connection to the child, and knew how strong it was. The fact was that the god could even enter the childs body and take over so if the child wished it, which he solemly did. But there was a few times that the god took control because he needed too.
The child blocked his godly friend. He'd gotten some stubborness as he'd gotten older, but that wasn't stubborness. It was loyalty. He didn't care what happened to him, so long as the god stayed safe.
But when a Choosen Child is in trouble with that strong of a connection, there is nothing that a god will not do, to see that the child is safe.
And that is where our story, starts.
And that is the proloug. I bet you all hate me, huh? I'll post Chapter One soon enough. For now, Please please PLEASE tell me what you think! Should I post chapter one? Would people actually read this? Please tell me!