I lied, you don't get an update next week, you get an update now!
Do you remember the last words that Night Fury had said before he had passed? Well, he wasn't just talking to the wind.
He was talking to the baby he had curled around.
That Night Fury was wise. And so he knew he must do something for the greater good before he left this world. And he knew that the kid he found on that river shore shouldn't of died so early. So, since he was going to die anyways…
The dragon had simply given the boy his life, making the once still baby miraculously alive. It was spared from the hungry wild life as well because of the greatly feared Night Fury that grasped him protectively, in its dead state.
And from all the rumors and such, the animals seemed to not like going around those powerful beasts, Night Furies. Even if they were already dead, grey, and out of the legendary and destructive fire it carried.
The poor babies cries were answered by a humble, nice couple of Vikings that had decided to live in the forest and occasionally trade with the Berkians that shared the island. The husband was cutting wood at the time, bright and early in the morning.
He had thought the baby had been stolen. And with him and his kind heart, the man decided to take him home, prying the fitful child from the stone cold clutches of the dragon carcass. He knew it was dead, but he wasn't sure what species it was.
And as he turned to leave, he didn't see the peering light blue eyes and the dragons slight grin, as it could finally rest in peace knowing that it had done something good. So it shut its eyes one last time.
The man's wife, Lillian, wanting a child for a long time, was glad for the 'little blessing' Odin had delivered to them. So they raised the child as their own, not knowing the twisted little being the baby actually was.
There's always a catch though, in dragons magic. Especially when a dragon would give their life away…always a catch.
When the boy turned eleven, that small makeshift family found out that catch the hard way. Really, they found out the worst way possible.
It all started when a Zippleback came to close to the house. The man, or Harold, had grabbed an axe and shut his wife and adopted child in the house, saying he would deal with this. And as Harold sliced one of the Zipplebacks heads clean off, something in the kids heart jumped. He suddenly had the urge to go outside and help the now dying dragon, somehow.
The kid tensed, eyes saucers as his father stuck the red axe into the Zipplebacks chest, and as it roared out in pain, the child gasped as if he was the one getting stuck in the heart with an axe. Lillian suddenly screamed, backing away from her 'child'. Hiccup, that is what she had named him, looked at her suddenly, frightened by her yelp.
He looked down at himself, where her eyes were wide and focused on. Hiccup screamed himself as he saw long, black talons in place instead of fingernails, and black scales seeping up from under his skin. He backed up, slamming into the counter suddenly. A sharp pain exploded at his shoulder blades, as bones cracked and shifted into new places.
Skin separated, and large leathery black wings spread open, knocking display axes off the walls and throwing pans off their hooks. Hiccup screamed louder, yelling for help, for reassurance, anything. His father burst through the door, his hands slick with dark dragon blood, along with his axe which had small green scales sticking to it.
His appearance only made it worse.
Hiccups heart suddenly tightened in empathy for the dead dragon outside. The frightened roars on replay continuously in his scattered head. Why did it have to die! His mind suddenly yelled. What did it do? That mans a monster!
With his taloned, now scaly black hands, Hiccup fell to his knees, covering his ears. His heart in pain, his back aching with the new limbs, and his mind confused and dazed at the sudden changes.
"Devil!" Harold suddenly yelled, gripping the axe tighter. "What have you done to my son?!"
Hiccup couldn't handle it. Harold kept yelling and yelling, as Hiccups skin kept turning more and more scalier, more confused until…
"SHUT UP" The eleven year olds voice came out in a loud roar of words, shaking the windows and shingles. His cheeks streaked with tears and black scales, Hiccup opened his eyes and looked down at himself, terrified. Harold stopped yelling, and the found son and father locked eyes. "Just shut up…" Hiccup said, his voice hoarse and barely audible.
Stumbling to his feet, the monstrous looking boy ran into the wall. "Help dad!" He cried out, only to be met by silence and a deadly glare from his 'father'.
"You're a monster. A demon. Get out of my household! Your not my son!" Harold said slowly, deadly. His knuckles white and tightly wrapped around the axe.
Those words hit Hiccup like a sharpened sword. He had just been disowned. Because of…because of whatever was happening!
Speechless, Hiccup made for the door, carefully stepping over his fainted mother. Slowly, bit by bit, the scales started sinking back into his freckled skin, and the black wings folded into his back. Hiccup felt lonely. Useless. Empty. Afraid. All because of a few words. Tears flowed gently down his cheeks, as he looked at his once father again.
Gulping, Hiccup started running, even when Harold started calling after him. It must be a dream. Please be a dream. Please…
His black obsidian talons were now fingernails, his skin peachy again, but his heart was different. It was shattered, troubled. Hollow. He didn't know what to do. What he was anymore. All his mom and dad had ever taught him, was now lost in flurry of confusion and terror as he dashed through the woods, wiping tears away with his dirty sleeves.
What is wrong with me?! He questioned himself, as he slid down a steep slope, thinking back to the pain he experienced before. The strange emotions he had felt towards that poor, poor dragon. But wait – isn't he supposed to hate dragons? Isn't that what he had been taught to do? Everyone seemed to hate dragons.
But he wanted to protect that Zippleback. Why the sudden change?
Collapsing to his knees in front of a small puddle, the boy looked at his reflection with a blank expression. Was he cursed? Maybe. He also didn't know he had been resurrected as well, by a dragon.
One thing he knew though, was that he was a monster. His dad called him a demon. His mother had screamed at the sight of him.
And he knew what Vikings do to monsters, to dragons. They killed them.
Getting to his feet, and ignoring his muddy boots and pants, he started walking. Not sure where, but he felt it was his responsibility to maybe protect everyone from his self. The realization dawned on the boy.
He was a monster.
Ok, so this marks the end of backstory chapters. Next one is going to be current time! Yay!
And yah, you guys are lucky. Two updates in one day! I'm just really excited about this, and couldn't help myself. Review? Constructive criticism is allowed. Flames will be ignored, so don't bother.
So…yah. Have a nice day!