Author's Note:

Well, you all have been waiting for it, and I'm glad to tell you that this is the beginning of the sequel of The Past Defines the Future. I'm giving you guys a warning that updates will be sporadic so don't expect me to update it every week. If I do, consider many small Christmas' have come early. Anyway, without further ado, enjoy the beginning of ...

I Define Myself

The sunsets always held a magical trait to the people of the Last Frontier village on the Eastern continent. Vikings - adults, elders and children alike - would always occupy themselves outside with friends and family to watch the sun set over the horizon. The darkening sky would usually aid in the natural beauty, bringing about a dark bluish tint zoning in on the fading orange. The clouds were painted over with a colour on the border between white and grey. Coupled with the setting sun and the darkening sky, the Last Frontier - now known as Hofoalond - had its own natural portrait that covered the entirety of the west.

And it was due to this natural beauty, that none of the villagers saw the black shadow that flew in the safety of the approaching night sky, towards the mountain ranges. The only shadow they saw was the approaching outline of a vessel not too far from shore.

Having a ship arrive at this time was uncommon for the Viking community. Most of the ships that brought them supplies usually arrived from the wee hours of dawn up until midday. Some of the adults decided it was a good time for the children to retire to the safety of home, just in case the mystery ship brought trouble for them. Since the village was on its own with the next closest about one hundred miles east, they had learned to fend for themselves in times of attacks - whether it be dragons or other Vikings.

A few men at the docks, who had just finished hauling their catch up to their homes and were preparing their boats for tomorrow, paused in their tasks to get the docking ropes ready to tie the ship once it arrived.

"Someone call the Chief over here" one of the men at the docks called. One of the men at the beginning of the dock nodded, turning for the Chief's house. They tried to get a good look at the sails, to see if there was any indication of which tribe or army it belonged to. However, the blue sails and the white patterns adorning them didn't jog the minds of any of them.

By the time the sun had set, the ship was already at the pier, mooring lines being thrown overboard to secure it for the night. Chief Birger was already present and he gestured for one of his men to place the gangplank to welcome their guests.

"Greetings weary travelers. My name's Chief Birger and welcome to the Last Frontier, now known as Hofoalond."

The first soul off the ship was a young man, of about mid-twenties and a striped tattoo on his chin. Judging from his stature and bulging muscles, he was no slouch.

"Eret. Son of Eret" he greeted, extending his hand for a shake. Chief Birger grasped his with both of his hands and led him to the village.

"So, Eret Son of Eret, what brings you all the way out here?"

"Believe it or not, I'm looking for a dragon rider. I know it might seem a little far-fetched but-"

"Oh, are you referring to that young man who lives on the other side of the mountains?" Birger interrupted him.

"Young man?"

"Yes. Are you a friend of his?" They reached the Inn, the Chief letting his guest go first. He looked behind to see the rest of the ship's crew gathering their important belongings and also making their way to the Inn. Luckily they had enough rooms available for them. However, he didn't miss the surprised tone in Eret's voice. Clearly he was expecting him to mention someone else. "Or are you looking for someone else?"

"It could be a friend of his" he suggested as they pulled out two stools at the ale counter.

"Can't be. That man had been living on the other side of the mountains for over a year, and not once did he mention he was expecting guests or that he was living with someone else. Well, other than the dragons of course." Two tankards of ale were delivered to them.

"Are you expecting me to believe me that? I mean, I'm no dragon rider, but I am human. And all humans crave some contact with others" Eret spoke after taking a few gulps. The rest of his men arrived and had seated themselves on the other side of the Inn, where the food was laid out for the night.

"Well, seven months ago, a girl did come here looking for him."

"A girl?"

"I should say young woman. Wouldn't want to insult the lass. And yes, she arrived on a routine trading vessel, carrying little with her. She asked around the Inn about a man who can tame dragons. We told her we didn't know much about him, other than how he came every two weeks to stock up on supplies before heading back to his sanctuary. But then a week later, they show up in town together to purchase a few supplies and I haven't seem him since. She must have convinced him to go back to wherever he came from."

"That's ... weird" Eret agreed. While the Chief turned his attention away, the dragon trapper turned towards his crew, making eye contact with his first mate. He gave a small nod of his head, which was returned by the first mate before he went back to eating.

"Anyway-" the Chief turned back to him, "What profession do you follow, Son of Eret?"

"Dragon Trapping. In fact, you're looking at the best dragon trapper of the seven seas."

"Dragon Trapping, eh? That's some line of work" he took another swing of his tankard. "Is that why you're here? To catch dragons?"

"My employer wants me to find a Stormcutter. I was hoping there are a few over the mountains."

"I thought you were looking for a dragon rider?"

"The dragon rider is the key to the dragon. Last time I spotted them was but only yesterday and they were heading in this direction" Eret noticed the cautious gleam in the Chief's eyes. He had to show them that he and his crew meant the village no harm. "Chief Birger, my crew and I don't intend to cause any ruckus here. We're just after the dragon. Any information on it will be extremely useful, but if you have none, we won't push any further."

The Hofoalond Chief studied his eyes, searching for any sign of lie Eret might have spoken of in his words, or if he was hiding something. "How long do ye' plan to stay here?"

"If we can't capture any dragons we'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."

"Well, ye' best be leaving first thing in the morning" Chief Birger finished the rest of his mead before rising from the stool.

"And why is that?"

"The only way over the mountains is by dragon."

"But didn't you say that that girl managed to find who she was looking for?" He can't stop here. Drago wouldn't stand for another failure.

"Then she most likely flew on a dragon to the other side. She obviously knew the man if she could fly dragons just like he does" Chief Birger said, nearly at the door. "If ye' want to try and find a way, by my guest, but ye' won't be the first. Nearly all the men and women in this village tried to find a way through the mountain, or if there was another path north or south of here, but nay. The only way over, that we know of, is by dragon."

With that final but of information, he bid Eret goodnight.

Hiccup's old house became nothing more than a humble abode for the Terrible Terrors of the valley. Its sturdy structure was the perfect haven where they didn't have to worry about larger dragons looking for a snack. In the seven months that he had been gone, dust and greenery began to collect along the walls and tables. The valley was reclaiming the foreign structure that was built nearly two winters ago. However, almost everything that he had left behind was left untouched. The Terrors had kept themselves busy by knocking over old cutlery and knocking old contraptions off the walls in his homemade smithy, but his study and quarters were left untouched, with only dust covering up his most recent drawings of him and Astrid.

Just like on Berk, he drew Astrid without her knowledge. He drawn her from the waist up, matching every single detail he noticed on the real Astrid. And it was also in this small portrait that he drew himself next to her. At that time, it was just for the laughs. A reminiscence of his love for her when they were young teens and a silent plea for what they could be once he returned to Berk with her. To any person examining the detailed sketch, it appeared the two of them were the perfect couple, completely infatuated with each other.

That was definitely how they appeared to be to the figure holding the sketch of them; seemingly empty black slits of the mask scrutinizing the passion that the two young adults contained in their eyes.