- Guilt -


Never depend on anyone, because they will find a way to turn you around and stab you in the back with a knife.

That is what he told himself whenever he came close to placing his trust on any other Dragon. He was a Night Fury, and there was no room for Night Furies amongst his species. Excluded, he was.

Alone.

Unwanted.

Misunderstood.

He had been given pitch black scales for a reason, just like a Monstrous Nightmare was given the ability to light itself on fire. It wasn't supposed to be alien to them. He wasn't supposed to be alien to them, and yet they always acted as though an extra-terrestrial set foot on their ground whenever he passed by. The Night Fury was pushed into solitude, to a state of loneliness almost impossible to bear. When he had thought that the loss of his species of Dragon in the area was enough, he had to face the aftermath of their deaths with an odd notion that one wasn't supposed to come in the first place.

Even if grieving for his many losses had drained most of his strength, he continued hiding behind fake bravado. To him, it felt like a single needle being stabbed through his frail heart for each minute he spent trying to be stronger than he really was. But of course, like every other being living on this earth, he treated the idea of simply being afraid like the scent of a brightly striped eel. Stay away from it at all costs.

What is there to be afraid of when you know nobody really cares? If nobody is there with you, you cannot be betrayed. This thought was what led to when the Night Fury decided to discard the heart he had; the heart that miraculously allowed him to bear so many emotions at once, whatever emotions they may have been, and stow it away in a dark place where he could just forget it. He listened to those humans – Vikings, they called themselves – shout out his given name with their voices laced with fear and warning. He refused to feel hurt when he detected various emotions in their calls and screams, thinking of all the bloodshed that occurs whenever they come in contact with his kind. They were monsters. They deserved what they were getting. They deserved to be punished for killing his family, for taking the life he had and crushing it with their ridiculously huge stone hammers.

The Night Fury didn't feel at all guilty as he shot down their houses, nor did he feel remorse when he heard them cry out in anguish. His heart tried to tell him otherwise, but he silenced it. This nonsensical war has come far enough for me to be going against all the other Dragons if I spared these...Vikings, He would tell himself, the name of their kind sounded like venom in his mind, if I felt this way from the beginning, It would be best if I would cease to get involved in the first place.

Little did he know, the heart he had locked up and stowed away was still beating. Had he been observant enough to notice, he would've ended his own life.

One day, this war between Dragon and Man would be looked down upon, remembered, branded as a thing of the past. Fate can make even the most skeptical, stubborn of beings believe, after all.


A/N: I always seem to have a problem with getting my fics over 1000 words. XDD What's up with that?

My first How to Train Your Dragon fic was a total flop. No, really. I was very disappointed in it. ._. To make up for deleting it, I wrote this one. Not as…light-hearted…but I'm a little more content with this nonetheless. Sorry if it lacks cheerfulness. I'm working on that. :)

Look on the bright side: at least you have Toothless! XD;;;

Unfortunately, he doesn't know Hiccup yet, so try not to glomp him. XD;;

As always, please do tell me what you thought of it! I'd love to hear from you! :D