It was with the heaviest of hearts that Toothless watched as the villagers and their torches crept ever closer. In a slow march they followed their leader, lying in blankets and furs on a wooden stretcher, as he was carried towards the cliff where Toothless waited. The sun was setting. It was almost time.
The four vikings carrying the stretcher halted right beside the dragon, and two more gently picked up the frail old man and placed him onto the back of Toothless. Toothless laid down and kept very still as the vikings strapped the man in the saddle and secured his metal leg in its stirrup. They used leather ropes to tie the other leg to the saddle, afraid that their leader might fall off. He would not fall off — Toothless would never let that happen.
When their work was done, the vikings took a step back and waited in revered silence. One of them, a thin young man with dark hair and deep green eyes, remained close and gently stroked Toothless' muzzle.
"Are you sure about this?" the young man said. His voice was strained and thick.
"I've… always wanted… this…" the old man whispered hoarsely. A smile curved his wrinkled lips and the bony hands grabbed at the saddle weakly. He was lying down onto the dragon's neck, too weak to sit up on his own.
"If that is what you wish," the young man said. A tear trickled down his cheek as he turned to Toothless. "Take care of him for me, okay?"
Toothless rubbed his muzzle into the man's hand — a silent promise between them. Then he, too, took a step back. His voice trembled when he spoke. "Farewell, father."
The sun's edge touched to watery horizon, joining with its own reflection. Toothless spread his wings, letting them fill with air, and took off into the colorful sky. Immediately afterwards a hoard of dragons rose into the air and formed a tail behind Toothless. Their combined wingbeats created an orchestra of airy drums, a symphony to the ears of the old dragon rider. But most of all he listened to the wind underneath Toothless' wings and the beat of his heart through thick scales. His shaking hands felt the hide of the dragon beneath him, the warmth running through its body.
"I always wanted… this…" the man whispered, coughing faintly. His hands fell to his sides, unable to hold them up anymore.
Life was finally leaving him.
Toothless gave a soft growl to let his rider know that he would be here with him, always, to the very end. The dragon could still feel his rider's faint heartbeat. It's struggle would soon end, as must all men's. Toothless understood what was about to happen, but had yet to come to terms with it. All he could do was fly. It was long ago that his rider had stopped being able to help him with that, and his artificial tail fin had been reconstructed so Toothless could fly on his own. Yet the rider was making small movements with his metal leg to move the tail fin along with the dragon's movements. It felt right. This was after all their last flight together — they had to do it right.
The last beam of blinding light disappeared behind the horizon. Toothless felt his load become frighteningly still and howled softly. To his great relief, the old man lifted one hand and put it on his dragon's neck. The touch was so familiar.
"Thank you…" the man said. The words were forced out and barely audible. The last word cost him a final ragged breath of air. "Bud."
With that, all force left the old man's body and he relaxed completely in the saddle. His blind eyes shut and the leg's movements in the stirrup ceased. Slowly the man's hand slid off the dragon's neck until Toothless could no longer feel any movement from his rider.
With a screech so painful it could rip a man's heart in two, Toothless shot a ball of plasma, as powerful as his own grief, into the sky above them. It exploded in a rain of sparks that floated down behind them like a trail. It glistened like the tears Toothless could not cry, but had seen in the eyes of humans many times.
Behind them, the other dragons let out roars to honor the chief of Berk and let the whole world know what had been lost.
Toothless kept steady in the air, soaring swiftly and moving gently. For that was all he could do for his rider. His friend though all times. His very own human.
And so passed the final flight of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, chief of Berk and friend of the mighty Night Fury.