Chapter 1: Prologue & Your Destiny
It was dark- pitch dark. Way darker than that of the inside of a dog or even a dragon. The air was filled with a stifling, salty fragrance while the air tasted like that of sulfur. The only noise was that of a voice on top of violent waves hitting the base of the cliffs. The very essence of this place was of tragedy- a long lasting never ending sorrow which weighed your heart down like a ton of rocks.
The voices became more distinct, bickering between a boy and a girl, siblings… perhaps?
"Many have heard of the tale of a girl trying to find her real self. Our story begins in Scotland, land of the Bear King, Kingdom of DunBroch, and a small cottage in a remote section of the kingdom." The narrator spoke as everything around him was black.
A voice with a slight Scottish accent and female sounding spoke next to the Narrator. "What are ya doing?"
"Telling a story, what does it look like?" The Narrator told her, pointing to the castle scene in front of him, as a candle flared to life revealing a red haired lass arms crossed looking at Snotlout.
"Really, Snotlout? Scotland?" She asked, looking closer to the story her brother was telling.
"What's wrong with Scotland for the beginning of our story?" Snotlout asked, indignant.
"If ya really want to tell this story right, leave it to me. I'm the one that lived it." She pushed Snotlout over, standing where he stood and started to paint the air with her words.
"Any who, where our story actually began was in a little house on Berk on a cold snowy night many years before Hiccup befriended the first dragon. Berk's nights are always cold, but this one was different. Inside that house was a woman named Blaire, who was giving birth to her second child. Blaire was not Viking born. She became the Wife of Spitelout many years before when the Celts, who were her people, bargained with the Vikings insuring peace for their two people.
The child that she gave birth to was a wee lass, named Aife because the day she came out of the Womb, she was already fighting. Spitelout and Blaire claimed that the wee lassie was in fact more of a Viking then she was Celtic, the same as her older brother, Snotlout. Blaire never understood why her husband insisted on that ridiculous name..."
"Hey!" Snotlout interrupted his sister. "It's not ridiculous. It keeps the trolls away. They're more of a pest then the dragons ever were."
The red head turned to her brother, pulling out a sword and pointing it at his throat. "Who's telling this story?"
Seeing his nod, she continued. "Several weeks went by and the proud parents planned to have the Viking Naming Ceremony, but Scottish warriors attacked Berk. This attack was worse and far different then the other ones. It was led by a man that had a grudge against the Vikings. No one knew why, except for Spitelout and Stoick.
"One of the men attacked Blaire, where she was with her two children. Knowing that she didn't have long to live, she sent Snotlout with his baby sister to hide behind some rubble as she held off the men. Blaire Jorgenson did not survive that fight for very long, but she slew three of Bernard the bear's men." The girl's voice filled with sorrow when she spoke of how her mother died. "They stole the sword she wielded and went in search of the babe she had given birth to.
"They left Berk with the child and the sword, the Berkians not knowing if Aife had survived or not. Blaire had lived long enough to tell Spitelout about her daughter's fate. The tribe searched long and hard for the missing babe, but years went by and not a trace was found of her. But she was living a totally different life, having been renamed Kara MacMillan. That's where our story begins and continues with."
Snotlout looked at Kara, knowing that her way was probably better than his. "So that's it?" He asked, being Snotlout once again.
"You didn't listen to a word I just said did you?" Kara asked, tackling Snotlout and pushing his horns into the ground.
Chapter One
Your destiny
Eleven years later
Kara stood in the meadow outside her home, glaring at shredded the remains of a deer carcass. The animal had been slightly small, it was a doe after all but now all that hung there were it's bones. It looked like whatever or whoever took the meat had roasted it where it hung, then had ripped what it wanted to eat and left the rest.
"Great, just great. If I don't come back with that deer, father will kill me!" The girl looked higher up the tree trunk, where the carcass hung during the night. Kara noticed weird etchings or marks in the wood; almost like that of claw marks of something…. Huge.
"What the devil made those?" Kara asked herself, following the weird tracks, knowing that if she did not come home with meat her father would be very angry. Suddenly the tracks ended in a large clearing. Knowing that she wasn't going to get the beast, she quickly grabbed her bow and headed deeper searching for meat to bring home.
When the sun had sunk below the ridgeline of the West Mountains, Kara finally gave up her search and headed home with dread. Muttering to herself, she only hoped that her father had not been drinking again and probably sleep outside again. That wish however was highly unlikely, so the girl stomped it out of her head.
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"Where's that worthless girl, now?" A male voice grumbled as he stomped through the small cottage. the door opened quietly and Kara walked in to face her punishment. The girl's blaze of hair hid her face from the taller man.
"Finally." The man grumbled, his large stature towering over Kara. "I sent you to get that deer I shot yesterday. How long does it take you to do a simple job?" his anger grew when he saw that Kara carried home no meat.
"Father…." Kara tried to talk but the man backhanded her, making Kara fall to the floor in pain, clutching her already red cheek. Her blue eyes blazed with emotions, but she held her tongue/
"You're worthless to me, since the day I rescued you from those beasts. You are no daughter of mine." He bellowed at her, grabbing the neck of her tunic. Kara tried to pry his fingers loose but to no avail.
As she struggled to breathe, Kara cried in desperation. "Father, please!"
The man threw her away from in disgust, hand grabbing at the sword hanging above the mantel, uttering fatal words. "I'm not your father, girl. I raised you as my own for this? You are just a stinking Viking, just like the man that killed my loved one. An eye for an eye, arm for an arm."
His nails dug grooves into the ancient leather as he grabbed Kara by her elbow and threw her into the night, voicing his words with an orotund tone. "A child for a child, Aife Jorgenson."
Kara stared at him, as she landed in a puddle of mud, the sword landing beside her. Great pellets of rain hit her, soaking Kara to the bone. The skies were finally dumping their burdens, matching how the lost girl felt inside.
"You and that bloody sword have only caused me grief. Get out of my sight before I get my bow." He bellowed, slamming shut the door once more.
Kara picked up the sword, buckling it on her back and stumbled away into the night. The direction was not picked with a destination in mind. She was frantically wiping beads of tears and rain so that she could see. The only thing she knew was that she had to get away. There was no safety here, this was not where she belonged…. So where did she?
By the time she reached a cave, not well known to anyone, she was freezing from the rain and more then curious about the sword on her back. She had heard the tales of that sword from the man she thought was her father, more times then she could count.
Shivering from the cold, she searched for some dry wood to start a fire with. As she searched, she came across those same claw marks that she had found earlier. Putting it from her mind, she started a fire and huddled close to it, hoping that some of the heat would warm her heart as well, but to no avail.
Kara stared into the flames, thinking about what had transpired earlier. She wasn't even named MacMillan for Thor's sake. Her real name was Kara Jorgenson, and right there as she cried herself to sleep in that unknown cave in the middle of nowhere, she decided to take up her rightful name.