-Chapter: II-

-Who I am-

`The town was alive in a light and blaze that would be quite the sight. It never ceased to show the struggle that we've had to endure from the first night and all that followed.

They happened not all that much, but enough where they seemed almost periodical. The townsfolk grew to know a dragon attack when it happened and the tell tale sign was usually one if not all of the above: lots of fire, explosions, wood shrapnel, tumbling boulders, and generally loud and screeching sounds issued from above.

`He could just make out the forge amidst all the chaos. The town blacksmith would need his help right now.

His lithe frame and quick feet allowed him to brush past the eyes of the other Vikings who were probably too busy fighting fires, or fire-breathing dragons. Hiccup was usually not allowed to be out much during a raid, the people believed that he caused more damage than prevented, but at least here in the forge he would be able to be of some assistance.

"Oh there you are! Nice of you to drop by." the blacksmith joked at the boy who was dressing in the leather apron. "I thought you'd been carried off." still joking.

"Who me? Ah, they wouldn't know what to do with all this." Hiccup gestured towards his non-existent muscles.

"Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?" the large man nodded towards the boys station to get ready for a round of weapons.

`The names Gobber. The man's lost two limbs. A hand and leg. He's been my smithing master ever since I was 11. That puts five years under my sash, even though the five years consisted of just grinding, and light shaping. He doesn't let me do any heavy work mostly because he thinks I wouldn't be able to lift the larger hammers, but he does make a good teacher. Not the best method of teaching though, he calls it 'on-the-job training'. It consists of giving me the tasks needed for the day and he begins his work. You learn as the work the job.

At that moment a whizzing fireball landed nearby, rattling the hanging tools, and causing a mild blast-back.

"FIRE!" bellowed a shorter man. Across the square, the older teens of the Village were moving with what one would see as a barrel on wheels. A water box, as most call it. Commonly used to put out fires.

The teens consisted of Fishlegs, Snotlout; the twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and Astrid. He hadn't noticed it, but Hiccup was leaning out the stall window watching as they saved the nearby building from the blaze. Oh how he wanted to be part of them. To run about, and actually be depended on, or at the very least, noticed for something good.

"Ah ah, back to the stall." sounded a voice behind him.

"Aw, but I need to get out there. I need to make my mark." Hiccup protested. He at least wanted to get noticed by people, and in a good way. He was too used to being noticed the bad way.

"Oh you'd make plenty of marks, and all in the wrong places." Gobber pushed him to the back room which ended up turning into Hiccups own private workshop over the years. "I know you want to get out there and do something, but doing stuff, in here, works for you, and everyone else."

"Please, just five minutes. I'll save someone from a burning building, I'll douse some flames. I might even kill a dragon. My life would get instantly better."

"No Hiccup, if you want to get out there and 'make a mark', you need to stop with all...this." Gobber waved around Hiccups various drawings and his latest creation that stood waiting to be used. To Hiccup, everything in that room was who he was, even if he wanted something different.

"You just gestured to all of me." Hiccup spoke with a hint of confusion

"Yes! That's it. Stop being all of you." Gobber finished with a satisfied grin, like his greatest idea had taken root.

"Gobber, I can't lift a hammer, I can barely swing an axe. I can't even throw a bola. This, however-" he notions towards the unknown contraption off to the side. "this is who I am, and what I do. I can't just abandon it and chase after the impossible goal of being a true Viking, like my father always wanted."

"Is that what this is about? All this work just to please your father?" Gobber couldn't help but feel as though he'd cracked a weak shell.

"Pretty much, I can help the Village in so many ways if he would just listen for once." pleading could describe the boys tone.

"As much as I want to help you Hiccup, I'm just not sure if these 'things' are the right thing for you and him." again referring to the devices strewn about.

At that time, a massive screech sounded from just outside, followed by someone calling for Gobber.

"Well, all right then. They need me out there." He stopped just as he was in the doorframe. "Man the fort Hiccup, and stay. Put. Here."

What followed wasn't Hiccup's best plan. Gobber was right though. The devices and catapults Hiccup designed weren't the best for he and his fathers relationship, but it was the only thing.

He then unbound the interesting device and started wheeling it across town like he was in a wheelbarrow race. He would have to get a clear shot for this to work, and only one shot.

After finding a suitable position behind a burned down shed, he began to unfold his apparent cannon-like contraption. It was a mechanical bola-launcher. He couldn't throw bola's himself so he built one to do just that.

"All right, all right. Give me something to shoot at. Come on." he grumbled to himself. If his plan worked, as they usually don't, he would gain immediate recognition by his fellow Vikings, and the admiration of his father. Two birds, with one stone. Only this time, there were three stones and rope.

Nothing.

For a few minutes there was nothing but dull shaking and reverberations from the battle behind him. His attention, however, was focused on the lone catapult that was sitting dormant nearby. If he understood enough, that was an easy target for his quarry.

`A Night Fury.

The most disputed dragon of all, if it even was a dragon at all. No one has ever seen one, which is why I am going to be the first.

He waited and waited. The constant, dull thuds from behind were starting to ebb down. The sky was beginning to lose to light, faint hints of grey were clawing at the horizon. Dragons never fought during the day. The battle was nearing it's end. Still no appearance of his target.

Then it came. First there was the gradual, tell-tale shriek from when it dives down. Then came the debilitating blast as debri rained down from the tower structure beyond, only slightly standing upright.

"All right, show yourself, come on." Hiccup again grumbled to himself, more displeased that the creature hadn't shown itself. His eyes darted about the expanse of faintly bleak sky, the stars pulsing in doubtful patterns.

He spotted a faint crossing of the stars as some blacked out and reappeared in a sequence across the faint-grey sky. Then came the whistling, then the fire, and ending with the pull of a lever. The small finger pushed back on the stuck release, letting the strained length of yew wood snap forward, bringing with it a rapidly spinning mass of rope and stone towards the crumbling tower as the flames faded out with the crossing of a shadow, entangling in the mass of rope and stone. With that satisfying snap, it continued hurtling across the sky with it's incredible momentum and passed over the crest and into the forests near the southern side of the coast.

The sound of trees being rustling dully rolled over the boy as he was forced to understand what he had just done. Hiccup couldn't help blink twice in succession before raising his arms above his head in elation, the full prospect of what just happened rolling over him with the snapping of distant trees.

"Oh I hit it?" He had an equally hard time believing himself in this moment, just as no one else ever did. "I hit it! Oh I- Oh what do I do?" He hadn't even thought of what to do if he actually hit a Night Fury. His entire plan just boiled over at that point. He was numb of thought.

The sounds of battle had descended to just the low roiling of flames mixing with water and multitudes of feet pounding the ground. The majority flock of offenders had fled to the lighting horizon, leaving the fighting force of Berk to sweep into every passage-way, clearing any remaining dragons away and attempting to prevent the spread of any serious remaining fires.

Far from the epicenter of towns-folk, Aaflighty boy was busy tucking his journal and note-taker into his sash as he pushed open the rear-ward door of the chiefs proud home, the forest canopy looming closely nearby.

He knew what was coming should he go back and tell them what happened. The same thing that happened every other time he thought he did the impossible. The thought crossed his mind that he should tell his father that he would be gone for the morning, but the urgency of his quest brought his mind to focus as the branches crossed over head, dawns fog sifting among the low-lying brambles and dew-laden leaves.