The general response towards this story has been much more positive than I expected, and for that, thank you. Your reviews are great encouragement for me. Criticism is welcomed as well. I could use any chance to improve my writing. ^_^

I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

The Death Line by SilverstarsEbonyskies

Ch. 2: The Scale

He started tinkering with his unnamed gadget immediately, his desperation to be useful honing his inventor's urge. With this, he could earn his place, be accepted. No longer would he be Hiccup the Useless, and no longer would he be the subject of their scorn. And maybe, just maybe, he could earn Astrid's admiration.

His hopes and dreams fueling his fingers, he made quick work of his fine tuning, finishing only an hour after the sun had sunk beneath the waves and several minutes before his father returned. When his dad did come back, Hiccup headed off his questions about the training with questions of his own about the preparations for the raid. He was flooded with so many of them that the topic of Hiccup's training completely slipped out of his head.

"It's great to see you're finally taking an interest in what we do around here!" His father boomed heartily, "We might be able to make a Viking out of you yet!" His tone became serious, "But make sure you're in the house when the raid starts. I want you out of the fighting for now. It's good you're getting better, your mother would be proud, but you're not ready for this yet. Understand?"

"Haha, of course!," He answered readily despite the guilt, "I need to build up some muscle first before I go beheading my enemies!" Hiccup gave a show of flexing his arms before attempting to look fierce.

His father chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Good to hear, son. Now go get some sleep. I want you in top form for Gobber tomorrow."

Hiccup gratefully took that opportunity to retreat back to the relative safety of his room. He collapsed on his bed again, but this time with a little half-smile on his face. Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night he would get out there and make his mark. Visions of his soon-to-be glory danced around in his mind, teasing him. This time he would prove that his inventions were valuable, that he was valuable. He could be a part of them, he really could, and without changing himself.

He drifted off to a happy sleep, which unfortunately would not last long.

At sundown, Fang had begun to head back for the village. His stomach had growled bitterly for food, and Fang could only resist for so long. He ignored the village's communal bonfire outside, opting instead to head straight for home. He had strange eating habits, and he had learned long ago to keep them to himself.

His father raised an eyebrow at him when he trudged through the door, and Fang only now registered his completely disheveled state. He had been out there for hours, practicing and practicing until he got every step and every swing down to absolute perfection. Concern for his appearance had been the last thing he was thinking of.

"Rough self-training?" He asked pointedly.

Fang nodded sharply.

"I heard about what you did to Falcon."

Fang mentally scoffed. Of course he did. Everyone knew everything in this place. Rumors traveled faster than the wind. And there was no doubt that Falcon spread the news as quickly as humanely possible. Anything to give Fang a hard time.

"And?" Fang asked passively.

His father sighed heavily and pulled on his beard, "Look, I appreciate that you want to defend my honor, but I can defend myself, Fang. I would rather you not get into trouble."

"But-"

"No. You will listen to me." His father cut in, "You need to step back and learn to let things go. And also, I sometimes think you might be trying a little too hard with this self-training you're doing. You're going to wear yourself down. I can already see it."

When Fang refused to respond, he sighed again, "Fine, I know your stubbornness. Just eat your meal and make sure to stay home and take it easy before tonight."

Fang placated him with another nod and went to the back of the house where he had placed his catch of fish from earlier that day. He plucked the cover off of the bucket and picked a rather large fish with shiny silver scales from inside. He replaced the cover before taking refuge in his bedroom. He sat on the edge of his bed and held up the fish so he could sample its smell. Freshly caught fish had one of the nicest smells, he thought. Fresh, clean, and incomparable.

And without any further ado, he sank his teeth right into it, ripping a fleshy bit out and chewing. It was raw, which was one of his peculiar culinary tastes. Another was that he normally would eat the whole thing, bones and all, easily crunching them to dust with his abnormal teeth. It was unnerving to watch, he had gathered, so he spared the villagers the sight.

After he finished his meal, he snuck out of his room, making not a singular noise. He crept carefully towards the front door like a cat and was out of the house with nary a sound. He had successfully kept his father unaware of his departure. It wasn't like he was going to go off and train again. He would in fact heed his father's suggestion to rest, but Fang just didn't like being penned up inside. It was too confining. He needed the outdoors, the fresh air, and the sky above him.

As he walked toward the forest, he paused and spared a glance behind him, taking in the sight of the village. For the smallest of moments, he wanted to turn back and...and join them, perhaps. He could see a good number of them still clustered around the fire, all done eating but still staying just for the company of each other. The orange glow of the fire highlighted their happy faces. But the desire quickly passed, and he smiled ruefully. He wouldn't, couldn't, do that. What was the point? No one wanted him there anyway.

So with slightly heavier footsteps, he continued his trek into the woods. The sights and sounds of the forest calmed him as he drew closer to one of his favorite secluded spots, one of the furthest away from the town: a small, out of the way clearing with a stream wending its way through it. No one ever came there because of its proximity to the Death Line. It was a mere thirty feet from the cusp of the valley, where the land turned craggy and sloped almost directly downwards, ending abruptly into a stretch of boulder-dotted landscape that continued until the other side. The dirt down there was red and dark and pungent.

Fang leaned against the tree closest to the little stream. He listened to its mutterings and stared into its waters. He wasn't in need of any more fish, even if he was he wasn't likely to find any good ones here, but it had become a habit for him to look regardless. It had somewhat of a meditative effect, searching for the quick darting movements and the glint of scales-

There.

His hand automatically slashed into the water, grasping the glint that caught his eye and wrenching it forth into the open air. To his surprise, what he held was not a fish. Rather, it was a scale. An impossibly oversized scale, sparkling a fetching blue in the light of the full moon. There couldn't exist a creature large enough to shed a scale such as the one he retrieved, and yet there it was. What manner of beast wore it? How did it reside on the island without notice? And for how long had it done so? These questions rose immediately into his mind. His clan could be in danger; no one would be prepared for a monster of that size. For all he knew, there could be several of them.

He had to warn them.

Wasting no time, he hurriedly slipped the scale into a pouch by his side and rushed back to his village. He would talk directly to the Chief Commander, Adder. He had no doubt that she would deal with the matter efficiently, and with the greatest possible speed.

He stopped running at the village border to avoid attracting unwanted attention, but his effort was in vain. His father was there waiting for him. His gaze was stony, his arms crossed. Fang frowned at this complication, but he made no complaint as he obeyed his father's beckoning. He couldn't deny that he had ignored his father's wishes by leaving.

"I will talk to you about this later," His father said, "For now, get ready. We will start the battle soon. The Berk Clan will pay dearly tonight for the lives they took from us a fortnight ago."

Fang bristled, but he had no choice. The scale would have to wait. Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would make sure Adder was informed. For tonight, though, he would fight for his clan.

The glory of the battlefield awaited.