It was a beautiful day, the sky was a crystal blue and the clouds puffed up to great sizes, as if they were showing off. A perfect day for flying, you could say.

This is Berk.

A single girl flew through the air, sitting on a saddle with what appeared to be nothing underneath it. Hair whipped around her face, revealing pale, freckled skin and large goggles strapped tightly to her head. She wore tightly fitted, black leggings and a dark red tunic that came down to reach her mid-thigh. The upper part of her tunic was covered by a brown leather vest and leather arm braces with flaps that came up to partially cover her hands. Her feet were engulfed by oversized boots and from her back hung a large furry hood.

The teenager reached down and patted the invisible mass she was sitting on sending ripples of light pink scales coursing throughout the being. "Okie dokie! Let's try this!" The girl said smiling down at the invisible creature she was riding. The animal came into full view, seeming to materialize from nothing. It was a peculiar thing; it looked to be a giant lizard with soft pink scales. The head was round with large eyes and floppy horns that resembled the ears of a dog. Two long antennae protruded from the top of its head with leaf-like plates positioned upon them. From its sides protruded two large wings that were similar to those of a bat and the same color as the rest of the animal.

It was a beast of legends and fairy tales. It was a dragon.

The weather sucks and so does the food, but other than that…

The dragon turned its head towards its rider and looked at her with a face that looked to be an exceptionally whiney, "What?"

"Oh, now, come on! Don't be like that!" The rider said as she flipped up a loop that had been flat upon the saddle, "This'll be fun~!" The girl undid a hook with a string attached to it that had been hooked onto her saddle to keep her from falling off. "Now," she said stretching her arms above her head, "don't forget to dive—gently mind you— when I say so. Oh, and remembering to catch me would be terrific."

The dragon nodded its big scaly head in reluctance and flapped its wings a good couple times before letting the wind carry the two.

The young woman very slowly and very carefully raised herself up into a squat whilst holding onto the handle she had popped up from the saddle.

She grabbed ahold of the back of the saddle and let go of the hoop and began sliding her foot next to it. When her foot was secure she pushed her other foot against the lip at the back of the saddle spreading her hands out directly underneath her bodice. "Okay," she whispered to herself, "you mastered handstands last week, this shouldn't be a problem."

Then she slowly raised her feet from the saddle and did a perfect handstand on the back of her dragon.

She inhaled through her mouth and then, slowly, gingerly, started to take away her left hand leaving only one hand to hold her up on the back of the beast. The young woman released the breath she was holding by speaking— whispering to be more exact— the word, "now."

The dragon started diving at about a sixty degree angle and then…

her hand left the saddle.

life here is pretty awesome.

The beast continued its dive, leaving behind its rider who balled herself up and sent herself cannon-balling through the air, spinning and spinning. The dragon circled back up and above her falling figure and then started to make its way over to go below her. While her mount did this she straightened herself out and pointed her head downwards, increasing her falling speed. Then, without warning, she threw out her arms and legs, yet again changing her falling position. This time it looked like what one might call a belly-flop, if she had been diving into a body of water. She put her hands out directly underneath her making her position look even more ridiculous.

Her dragon flew in from the right and she somehow managed to grab onto the saddle and sit down without the dragon slowing for a single second. In one swift movement she re-hooked herself to the saddle, pushed down the hoop she had just used for a handhold, and yanked up a metal bar she used for flying while sitting upright.

She then sat back and slowly let a grin creep onto her face. "We did it!" she squealed. The dragon, who was also extremely proud of itself for diving just the right way, did several shakes of its head and then wiggled the rest of its body in an up-and-down motion. The girl giggled at her friend's antics. Then she leaned back, resting her hands on the dragon's scaly hide, and looked up to the sky.

This is when she noticed the sun sitting much further up in the sky than she thought it was and her eyes went wide as her gleeful smile turned into an almost comedic frown. "WE'RE LATE!" she screamed pressing down the metal bar she used for upright flying and grabbing hold of a leather strap, pressing her chest down to the saddle. "GO! GO! GO! Auuugh! Fishlegs is going to kill me for being late to training again!"

Well, it's awesome if you aren't me, that is.

As the two flew an island came into view with a large mountain at the center of it and little houses peppering the ground.

Now, most normal places teach you reading and writing, but on Berk, we teach

Dragon Training.

"Augh! First I'll get chewed out by Fishlegs. Then all of those idiots will laugh at me and crack their jokes. And last but not least Mum and Dad had told me not to be late which means, of course, that Dad will give me a speech and then Mum will kill me. Well, how absolutely perfect!" the girl said as she veered her dragon towards a large enclosed ring with chains interweaving over the top, creating a sort of dome.

You see, a long time ago, Vikings and dragons were mortal enemies. But, thanks to the great hero Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, we learned that we didn't have to fight dragons. We can train them.

The dragon landed and the girl hurriedly jumped off the beast. She quickly stripped herself of her flying gear and shoved them into the nearest bush. She almost forgot her goggles which she ripped off of her face causing her hair to fly up and then drift back down, covering up her eyes and cheek bones. She ran to the doorway of the arena and entered.

My name is Sylvi, and in my opinion it is way better than most Viking names. Most parents believe that hideous names frighten gnomes and stuff. Why? I have no idea. Please don't ask me to explain our culture.

Sylvi yanked on her bangs, trying to cover up as much as her face as possible. She hated having to be around people. The only thing she hated more than being around them is their attention being directed towards her, and sadly that is almost impossible to do when you're late.

She peeped over to the group of teenagers grouped together for the training session. She wanted to die. They were staring at her, all of them. Not to mention that almost all of them were giggling and whispering. Sylvi hated the giggles and whispers. She silently sent a prayer up to Thor asking if he would be so kind as to strike her down with a lovely little lightning bolt and put her out of her misery.

She sat down in her usual place, very, very far away from the rest of the class on a small chair that was so hopelessly broken that no one but she ever claimed. Sylvi felt like she had something in common with that chair. That's why she always chose that one even when she was on time.

She glanced over to the bunch of people again and winced. There was Fishlegs Ingerman, professor and one of the main founders of the Dragon Training Academy, giving her the hairy eyeball for being late to his lesson. Again. The teens had gone back to what they were doing before she had walked in. Sylvi liked to study these people when she was sitting through Legs's lectures. She already knew all the material he would talk about so what was the point of learning it again?

Her eyes fell upon a large brute of a boy with black, greasy hair and mud-brown eyes. Your traditional Viking teen.

That's Spoutlout. Valhalla knows why that's his name. There must be some sort of "lout" fetish within the Jorgenson line. I mean seriously, Spitelout, Snotlout… The names just get stupider with every generation.

Her eyes moved to the three girls twittering about and the poor boy that sat next to them, who appeared to be saying the same prayer Sylvi had said earlier.

The Ingerman siblings. Fishlegs and Ruffnut decided after their eldest son, Birger, that they loved kids. This is why they decided to have four kids within the space of three years. They had three girls in a row after Birger and they decided to name them Snuffy, Bluffy, and Guffy. I sincerely wish someone would give these parents a book of names, because each generation's names just keep getting worse and worse.

Sylvi then caught sight of the only person in this whole class—except Fishlegs—that spoke to her. He had the same auburn colored hair as her and green eyes that sent an extremely irritated message that said, "You are so getting a lecture after this."

And that is Sindri—Sparkles* as I so charmingly call him. He's the only human my age that I talk to. Well, who talks to me that is. Why? Well, he's my brother. My twin brother.

Yeah, we've been together since birth. He's the only one in this godsforsaken training program that knows the real me.

Sylvi was aroused from her thoughts when she felt something large and scaly nudge at her arm. It was a big, fat, brown, bumpy dragon named Meatlug. This old girl was Fishlegs's trusty gronkle. The two were the best of friends and had the uncanny ability to make grown men uncomfortable with their closeness. Sometimes it seems that instead of Ruffnut, he's married to his dragon.

The young woman immediately cheered up. Nothing made her feel more comfortable than a dragon. She looked at the bumpy reptile and her eyes turned from the bright blue, that hadn't been seen because of the fringe that covered her face just above her nose like a curtain, to a brilliant green. Brilliant was almost an understatement. Her eyes were the color of leaves, the leaves that you see when you look up whilst standing in a forest, a dark green that's brightened by the sun trying to shine down onto the forest floor.

The real me isn't how I act like around people. The real me is the one that can fly. She can lead, think, and train a dragon in thirty seconds flat, not act socially awkward and barely manage to stutter her way through a sentence. The me that I am when I'm around dragons.

Meatlug nudged her head forward onto Sylvi's lap closing her eyes in pleasure as the girl scratched her big lumpy head. Sylvi continued halfheartedly scratching and looked back over to the group to continue her people watching.

Her eyes just flew over most of them, not really caring about what it was they were doing.

And that is…

And then, she let her eyes come to rest on the final boy in the group. He had pitch-black hair that spiked up randomly with bangs that came just to his eyebrows which framed beautiful sapphire eyes that could easily put a blue bird to shame. He had full lips and a square chin that—although it was quite square—did not resemble a butt at all. Across the bridge of his nose crept a scar that stopped as soon as it got to the bottom of the slope of his nose. His shoulders were broad and his tunic was a worn-looking white shirt. He wore a leather belt around his waist and black trousers that were tucked neatly into his leather boots. Sylvi stared at the boy as a small smile started creeping onto her face.

Eiric. I've had a crush on him ever since I was seven. He's not exactly, from here. When I was five he washed up onto our shores, he was half dead and bleeding from both shallow and mortal wounds. But, by the mercy of Thor and Gothi's healing abilities, he managed to survive. With no memories of who he was or where he came from, he was adopted by, much to Snotlout's surprise, the Jorgenson family.

Yes, it is surprising for all of you that have heard the tale of Hiccup and his adventures to hear that Snotlout Jorgenson did indeed find a wife. She was three years younger than the rest of the group and had, apparently, had a secret love for him for the longest time. Both Ruffnut Ingerman and Astrid Haddock agree that the woman should be tied to a mast and shipped off for having gone mad.

You see, after the birth of Spoutlout something had gone wrong and she was left barren. So, when she saw the chance for a second son she took it, and thus the family of three became a family of four.

Eiric turned his head and whispered something to Sindri, revealing part of a scar that started just above his cheek bone and traveled up the side of his face to disappear behind his bangs. Hoho, thought Sylvi, Wouldn't it be a pleasure to investigate that and any other scars he might have? Sylvi's smile grew and her eyebrows rose, giving her the appearance of pure perversion. It really was a blessing her fringe was so long; also that no one paid her much attention. Not that she especially wanted them to, what's the point of being the center of attention when you learn so much more from the sidelines?

The rest of class was very uneventful; Fishlegs lectured the class on the traits of the Whispering Death and how to train it while the other girls flirted with the boys to their little hearts' content. When 'Legs finally wrapped up, all but two of the youths jumped up and hurried out of the stadium-like building. Fishlegs made his way over to a struggling Sylvi who was trying desperately to get a big, sleeping gronkle head off of her lap so she could run away from the two males in the building with unhappy lectures as their greetings. By the time she had removed Meatlug from her thighs it was too late; Fishlegs was already standing in front of her and her brother dearest was standing next to the door, both blocking the exit and waiting his turn. There was no way out. Sylvi winced, why does she have such awful luck?

"Sylvi," Fishlegs started.

Oh, and there is a tiny, little, unimportant piece of information that you should know.

"Yes?" Sylvi said her voice just above a whisper.

"This is the twenty-third day you've been late this month alone."

Sylvi shrugged her shoulders and looked away from her teacher, "It's not-"

"Twenty-three out of twenty-four days."

"Okay, well, that's a—um – it could be worse."

"You need to set an example for others and show that you care about what goes on in this tribe."

"Sindri can do that…"

Do you remember how I mentioned the great hero Hiccup?

"We're not talking about your brother; we're talking about you, Sylvi. You're the daughter of a chief. What you do is important."

He's my dad.

Sylvi sighed, if she received a sheep for every time she heard the words 'daughter of a chief' then she would have, undeniably, the largest flock in the uncivilized world.

"Please try to be on time. I know that because of your grandmother and Hiccup you already have +4 knowledge of this already but you need to make an effort to come on time."

+4? Thought Sylvi, try +30.

"I'm sorry," Sylvi said, "I'll be there next time."

"You had better; your mother won't be too pleased with you being late all the time." Fishlegs' tone becomes deeper at the mention of an upset Astrid Haddock.

"Yes sir," in all honesty her mother really wasn't as bad as Fishlegs had made her sound. She was just a bit scary when she was mad, like most mothers.

Sylvi then quietly got up out of her chair and started walking towards the exit, her eyes penetrating the ground. Her slow walk gradually became more of a trot once she passed her brother who had been waiting for her to leave.

When the two were out of the building Sindri came up to stand beside his sister who was currently digging her riding gear out of a bush, "You are the biggest idiot to ever walk the earth."

The girl didn't look at him as she tightened the straps on her arm braces, "Thank you, I'm going for all the realms, but, alas, you have to start somewhere don't you?"

"That's not funny."

"Yes it is you just have a terrible sense of humor."

"Sylvi…" her brother rubs his hand over his face, sighing heavily.

She looks up at him and flutters her eyelashes and says in the fakest voice she can muster, "Yes, brother dear?"

She gets a piercing glare for that one as he says, "Tell me again, why do you hide your gear?"

"Well," She stands up fully and pulls her goggles down past her face and around her neck. "I don't want them to see," she yanks her unnecessarily long braid out from underneath the leather strap. "I don't want them to think I'm being favored by Dad. He is the head blacksmith as well as the chief. And this stuff," she gestures to her outfit, "looks like his handy work." She brushes a leaf off a large piece of hard leather that is strapped to her shoulder, "Even though it's mine." She smirks, admiring her leatherworking skills.

"Hm, yeah. It makes more sense for you not to have gear because when anyone not related to you is anywhere nearby you freeze up and make the dragon freak out. It's a shame really, considering you're the best rider in the group."

Sylvi lets out a low whistle and then looks at her brother smirking immensely, "Shall we go prove it then, Sparky?"

Sindri turns around and walks over to a beautiful hotrod-red Monstrous Nightmare sleeping soundly. He shakes his head as he boards his dragon saying, "I wish you would stop calling me that."

Sylvi shook her head and looked at him with fake sympathy, "Some wishes," she sighed, "will just never come true." She then ran to the cliff's face sticking her index finger and thumb in her mouth and whistling again before leaping off the cliff. She landed with a light thud upon an invisible mass with a saddle resting on its imperceptible scaly back.

"Oh, just shut up you show off." Sindri said, rolling his eyes and not really fighting to keep the smile off his face. Then he and his giant reptile blasted up into the sky in hot pursuit of his sister.

Screw just flying. It was a great day for racing.

*The name Sindri is an Old Norse name that can sometimes be translated into "sparkling."

So! I hoped you enjoyed this (at least a little bit)

I am in need of assistance on names, what should I name Sylvi and Sindri's dragons? I am at a total loss on what to call them, so if you have a suggestion please tell me. (Help!)

Thank you for reading!