Get ready for an overload of exposition!

secret love writer: They're somwhere in northern Europe


"The tale of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III," the professor started his lecture, "is one of the most famous epics of the dark ages."

I could feel the other students mockingly glancing at me every now and then.

"It has seen many adaptations, but today we are talking about the scripture that started it all."

I could hear Snotlout holding back his laugh. I'm sure that if this wasn't the literature lesson he'd be laughing loud enough for the fishermen on the other side of the fjord to hear. Luckily for me our literature professor threatened everyone with cleaning his boat if interupted his lectures. You don't want to know the story behind that boat though.

"I'm sure everyone of you knows the story..."

Yes, everyone does, unfortunately for me. You see, the story is so famous that everyone liked to nickname themselves after it's heroes - Snotlout, Tuffnut, Ruffnut, whom you've already met, my father after after the hero's equally heroic father, then there's Fiske Ingerman, or Fishlegs, the guy whom I sit next to - let me introduce you: this is Fishlegs, the only kid who used to be my friend. Note that I said 'used to'. We hung out in elementary and he was bullied as much as me. He also used to be as thin and scrawny as me. But then he had enough: he gained forty kilos in two years. He started standing up for himself (meaning he entered berserkr mode - the world disappeared in red and when he came back to his senses everyone around him was no more - whenever someone got him angry) and eventually Snotlout invited him to hang with 'the true Nords'. He accepted, probably out of fear of staying an outcast if he stayed my friend. Yeah, I know: some friend. Then we have Astrid, the girl who caught my eye the moment I first saw her. No need for a nickname, the hero's wife was actually named Astrid too.

And who's the lucky guy who bears the name of the hero? Me. Why? It's probably out of irony - since I'm a Haddock the first think anyone thinks when they look at my weak, small physique is what shame must my ancestor feel (also Snotlout once caught me eyeing Astrid and found it funny that the great Dragon Master's only mistake has romantic fantasies).

"... so how about smeone gives me a quick summary!" the teacher continued. He was always quite calm and friendly (if we ignore his threat).

"Mr. Haddock!" Oh great! Me of all people! "Since this is your ancestor we speak of here, would you be as kind as to summarise the tale in question?"

I stood up. Well, here goes...

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III," I started, "was born on the island of Berk in the Barbaric Archipelago." By some strange coincidence our town is also called Berk. I actually never realy thought of that! Even the families from the epic live here. MUST BE A SIGN FROM THE GODS - that they try realy hard to torment me. "Even as a kid he'd show great potential both as a warior and a blacksmith. However his home was under a constant threat of dragons who raided them once every month for food." Did I ever mention how much I love tales with dragons? They are just glorious! And no, I'm not being sarcastic

"Unlike the other Vikings of the Hairy Hooligan tribe, Hiccup didn't see dragons as mindless killing machines." I could hear Snotlout snicker at 'Hiccup'. I'll never hear the end of this one. "One day he managed to down the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself, the night fury, one of the rarest species of dragons. In secret he managed to befriend him. He named him Toothless out of irony of his mouth being filled with razor-sharp teeth." Though I'm sure that's not what happened there.

"He managed to convince his peers that dragons weren't mindless beasts and together they went to kill a queen dragon that was forcing the other dragons to raid her food from the Vigings." And lost his leg in the process.

I could almost see Snotlout forcing back comments about the differences betwen me and my ancestor. Hopefully I'll be able to escape the classroom before he decides to open the floodgates holding him back.

The professor nodded for me to continue.

"Over the course of the next few years he made quite a few friends and also enemies, both human and dragon, however he defeated them all with ease, making all who oposed him to tremble when they faced him in battle." Why did he have to be such a badass? So that I have to get a bad asskicking every day for not being like him, that's why. I find the tale highly implausible though. I mean, how could he single-handedly defeat an armada of five thousand bloodthirsty berserkir, even if there was a dragon by his side?

"Many years pass and Hiccup is suddenly old. The Viking tribes had made peace with dragons. There weren't any wars on the horizon and he was living happily with his wife, four sons and three daughters and some grandchildren had also been born. However, a new threat appeared - a dragon the size of a mountain saw that the friendship betwen dragons and Vikings was more of a master - pet relationship. He was called Furious and he started preaching to dragons about his findings. He told them that he was the messiah that would bring the dragon-kind to their rightful place as kings of the world." Wow, how original! We have ourselves a typical superiority complex villain here! "He even managed to enslave several human tribes for his cause. Hiccup then united the peoples of the Archipelago, proclaimed himself king and protector of man and declared war on Furious.

After years of war and several fabled battles, with Hiccup being poisoned by Furious they fled to the Dragon Sanctuary to make a final the Dragon Master decided that no mere mortal can kill Furious." Or no man alive, depending on the translation. You know how it can be with those. "So he devised the most desperate strategy. He had his tribe mystic Ruffnut..." Ruffnut would have cheered at this had she not been restrained by her brother. "... freeze all dragon-kind in time. Then he had himself killed in a bloody ritual which would endure that his soul would stay in this world and return into the body of a worthy Haddock when Furious would return." At least I know he wouldn't be needing my body. "His last words said, as depicted in the last verses, that when history repeats itself isthe time of the return," finaly finished. That was a lot of exsposition, wasn't it!

"Than you, mr. Haddock!" I sat back down, trying not to look in the direction of a particular group of brainless sorry excuses for humans.

The rest of the lesson consisted of reading certain verses from the epic and depictions of their scenes in several works of art.

"The most famous is probably 'The Master Faces Furious' by Painte R. Withabrush." Of course, who doesn't know that one. A painting of a man holding a flaming TWO-HANDED sword in ONE hand and a large blacksmith's hammer in the other. The man is dressed in an armour made of black dragon-scales, with a horned helmet (half of his mother's breastplate?) on his head. He is very muscular (ten feet tall with the strenght of a dozen men, as written in the epic). Behind him, in a shadow are two green eyes, looking in the same direction as him: the dragon no one had ever seen, the night fury. They are both facing a dragon at least a hundred times their size. He is as red as blood and there is fire coming out of his mouth and venom dripping from his teeth. It's Furious... Lucky me, I look a lot like my ancestor. Did I mention that gets me so many friends!

"It is currently in the possession of the Haddocks of Marlinspike hall* in Belgium."

Soon the bell rang and I stormed out of the classroom.


Ah, the dreaded final period for today: physical education. You may have already figured out that I'm not very good at sports. Well, the main problem is that our professor is a former national football player, which means he always insists on us playing the stupid game. And what a perfect way of kicking me in the legs this is. And avoiding the ball so that the others wouldn't have the 'I was going for the ball' excuse is out of the question since the last time I did it the professor wanted me to be the goalkeeper. Not the best experience. Especially since everyone seemed to be aiming at me and not the goal.

During the today's game I could hear Snotlout and his gang taunting me with statements about me and my ancestor. Can't say I didn't expect it.

The only mistake the Dragon Master has ever made!

What shame must he feel!

He covers his face, unable to look at other mighty wariors who look at their decendants with pride!

You sure you're a Haddock?

Maybe you were adopted...

Etcetera.

After that I was glad to leave the dreaded building, not looking back. Knowing that my father wouldn't return home from work till midnight I decided to go to Gobber's Workshop. The owner Godfrid (whom we call Gobber) is a good friend of my father's. They fought side by side in the army, but while Stoick was lucky enough to make it through without serious wounds, Gobber lost an arm and a leg in an explosion.

Gobber lets me stay and work at his workshop and is the only one who actually has some hope in me. But even he had several times voiced his opinion on me building strange devices in his workshop (he's particularly concerned about my newest project).

I arived to the workshop to be met at the doorstep by a bald man three times my size (though everyone is three times my size, except for my father who is three and a half times my size) with a long blonde moustache.

"Ah, Henrik, you're here. I was just about to close the shop."

Another thing: Gobber is in the town counsel, meaning he leaves me in charge whenever he has to go on meetings.

"No need, I'm here now."

He let me in. "Lock up when you leave." he said. Since I'd spend a lot of time here he had made me the key. "And no more of that 'universe translocator' of yours. The today's blackout was enough."

"It's 'universal translator'. And how was I supposed to knoe it would need so much computing power!?" My latest invention was supposed to translate thoughts of any animal by reading it's brain activity.

"You know what I mean, lad. Try not to blow the place up!" he said before turning back to the door.

"And you don't let the door slam you on the way out," I said, waving goodbye.

He looked back at me and smiled... and bumped into the door on his way out. "You son of a..." was the last thing I heard before he closed the door behind him.

Gobber had always been more of a family to me that dad. He looked after me, listened to my ideas, he would (try to) comfort me when I needet it the most and most of all, he knew me as who I am. More than the teachers. He had always been the one to encourage me when I felt like giving up. He's the one I'll probably miss the most when I leave this town to go study to the university in the capital.

I started working on my translator, hoping to find a way to fix my problem. But I couldn't cocentrate. So after an hour or so I took my sketchbook and started drawing. Another thing I'm good at and another thing deemed useless around here. I'd draw anything but lately I've been mostly drawing Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III and trying to picture myself in his shoes. Must be good being a strong hero everyone respects.

Movement outside the window broke me out of my ecstasy. A blonde teen riding her bycicle home. Astrid. Little does she know that I was the one who made that bike. I'm quite sure she'd throw it away if she knew it was from me. At least she likes it as it is. I turned back to my sketchbook and started drawing the godess on the bike.

...

I arrived home around seven. My father should have already finished his work and was now probably at the 'Mead Hole' bar. That left me to make myself some supper and maybe watch the news before going to bed. It seemed that the blackout problem was already fixed.

After my small lunch at school several hours ago I sure was hungry. Unfortunately all we had in the fridge was fish. Most of my diet consists of fish.

I turned the TV on, hoping to see some good news from around the world. However nothing had changed in the passed day.

"... war in Syria ..."

"... several victims of ebola ..."

"... corruption ..."

"... claims to have seen a dragon ..."

"... massive forest fire in central Europe ..."

"... famine ..."

"... overweight ..."

"... drought ..."

"... floods ..."

I decided to turn the TV off and go to bed early. Thinking that I wasn't doing good in my life wouldn't be right after seeing what is happening around the world. It's always the same: wars and hatred, natural disasters, people generally being stupid...

I just wish somenthing new would happen. Something that would get people together, make them forget about their differences.

Something that would make even me accepted.


Ah, there we go!

*See 'The Adventures of Tintin' by Georges Prosper Remi (or Hergé)