Hey guys! You probably hate me for how late this came. It's been two weeks, I know. I am truly sorry. This would've been up sooner if it hadn't been that I was bedridden with the flu last week and haven't been up to doing more than moan and sleep and crave comfort food like fries and pita and chocolate chip cookies with coconut. Now I've recovered enough to start writing again, finally.

Plus, it was midterm week at my school so I was studying instead of writing! But I won't bore you with the details. The adventure continues!


3 – New Beginnings


Part 1 – The Guardians

North Pole: Santoff Claussen (Jack's POV)

North was still beaming down at me when, without warning, a yeti came barreling in. The old man lost his jolly nature and swore loudly in his native tongue.

"How many times must I tell you to knock?"

The furry brown creature looked down sheepishly. Once he was forgiven, the yeti began warbling and flapping his arms wildly. I thought the sight was quite comical, but North's face became frowny.

"Forgive me, Jack," he said. "There is business I must attend to."

With that, he left.

I sat on his desk for all but two seconds until I smiled and ran over to the door. Peeked out left and right. No North. He was nowhere to be seen and there was a whole Santoff Claussen waiting to be explored. I considered staying like a good boy, but my smile just grew. Naw, when you hold the record on the Naughty List, you have to keep up that status!

Without another thought, I dashed.

The chaos of the place was just breathtaking. Everywhere I looked, there was something happening. Elves jingled around my ankles carrying things like cookies or paints to and fro, expertly not spilling anything despite the traffic. Yetis were doing anything from going over blueprints to checking stocks to painting toys to making them to cleaning. Yep, some of those furry beasts had on aprons and were vacuuming and dusting.

Blowing confetti out of my face, I glanced into a room through the window on the door. Several yetis were gathered around a conference table, sipping mugs of cocoa. The next room had even more yetis with glasses, hard hats, and glasses on. They were working large buzz saws, carving large hunks and planks of wood into workable pieces.

I went even deeper down the tower. It continued in a slanting spiral, red carpet plush under my feet. The next room had a heavy metal door. One glance in there told me why. Sparks flew as the yetis there wielded flamethrowers. Their faces and bodies were protected by very heavy aprons and masks as spare glints of heated metal shavings flew through the air. I backed away slowly and continued on. Several more floors passed by like this. On the very bottom were two open arches, one to my right and one to my left. I went right first (I'm right-handed, so it's kinda an automatic direction to travel in, I think).

What I saw made me gasp.

There was another room, a basement, that looked even larger than all of Santoff Claussen combined. It was made up of more mismatched levels. Throughout were yetis working on larger than life ships. Great sails were stitched, hulls carved, decks sanded. Warbling instructions wove through the air. The noise was a crescendo here. There were also several portals around. Each was labeled a different city in the world. I found the once that said Central.

Amazing. Looks like North wasn't lying about being the leading toy maker and ship builder.

I was turned around by the security when I tried to go in more, so instead I went to the other room on the other side of the hall. The security here was a lot less strict, and for obvious reasons.

The kitchens. This was probably the only place completely free of yetis. Looks like fur didn't mix well with fiery ovens and melted candy gloop.

This was also the only place where the elves went unchecked. They worked, going from machine to oven to machine, perfectly-baked cookies and perfectly-shaped candies making their way into their respective boxes. It was quite impressive. Hundreds of different kinds of candy being wrappered and boxed, cookies filing out on plates constantly. No doubt a lot were fed to North and the yetis. Funny enough, for every three cookies at least one was consumed.

I sat on one of the tables and snagged cookies from passing plates. Being immortal doesn't require me to eat or sleep, but one can indulge on occasion. I also had a good time freezing them as well. The room was too warm so they defrosted almost immediately and went on with their lives, though some of the elves seemed really confused as to how they wound up on the floor.

Eventually, the room was way too warm for me too. Hey, I'm a spirit of winter. Me and heat don't exactly see eye-to-eye. Taking one last sugar cookie from a passing elf, I flew out. I decided on flying back to North's workshop (hopefully he wouldn't notice that I'd left). Summoning the wind I sailed up through the spiral at neck-breaking speeds. Tousled up *many* elves and yetis in the process; their angry shouts and jingles followed me all the way up. I just whooped and laughed. Oh, this was the life!

Turns out North wasn't back yet. Looks like that important business also meant time-consuming. It'd been at least twenty minutes. I waited again, but only managed about a minute or so before I got really bored. Hey, I'm used to traveling around the world creating joy and snowy adventures, not sitting cooped up in some little room with a window.

It wasn't extremely difficult to narrow down where the old Russki was. I'd gone down and hadn't seen a hint of him, so it only made sense to go up. Seeing as there were only three more floors, I walked and checked each room. More wonders, no North.

Before I knew it I was back in the globe room. North was there; so were the other Guardians. They stood with their backs to me, facing a skylight. From my vantage point I could make out the very bottom of the moon. Moonlight was streaming through the big hole in the ceiling.

I was going to greet them all, but something held me back. For a moment there, I swore I saw a figure in the light. Tall, taller than North's yetis, but slim. Robes that looked like something ancient from the country of Nihon hung off its shoulders in a way like drapes instead of close fitted. An aura of power encased this figure. Strangely enough, I couldn't make out any facial features.

Then the figure seemed to turn towards me. I gripped my staff tighter out of defensive habits. The Guardians all turned around. Tooth was the first to react. She fluttered over to me, then wrapped me in a very unexpected hug.

"Uh…h-hey?" I said uncertainly. Her warmth was somewhat uncomfortable. Then again, my cold was probably somewhat uncomfortable for her too, so I didn't say anything aside from my awkward greeting.

Tooth broke away with a smile splayed on her face. "North told us you've agreed to come!"

I looked up to where North was smiling. I smiled back. Then I noticed the strange figure in the moonlight had vanished without a trace. Could that have been MiM?

I nodded. "Yeah, but only to come, not to become a Guardian or anything."

"Good," Bunny muttered.

I shot him a look over Tooth's shoulder. His green eyes glared right back at me. North, oblivious to the tension, stepped forward and clasped me on the shoulders.

"Welcome to the party," he said.

"Thanks," I replied, and was surprised to find that I actually meant it. Then I noticed the lack of a certain silent person. "Wait, where'd Sandy go?"

"He has important Guardian duties that he can't take time off of," said Bunny. Then he added, "Unlike you, of course."

"Thanks for the memo," I muttered. "So…what's the plan?"

North nodded. "Sandy will be back shortly. He has work to do. Meanwhile, we are to go to Central. From there, we take ship to wherever you lead us."

"Wait…me?"

"Trust me mate, I'm as surprised as you."

I ignored him. "Hold up. Why me?"

"I do not know, but Manny knows what he says. He told us that you have a place to go and that we must go with you and help you. You are going to lead us to Pitch."

"I don't even know where Pitch is!" I blurted out. "Why would I? He's never said much to me anyway…"

Tooth said, "The Man in the Moon was certain that wherever you would go, Pitch would follow you. He said your next destination is his next target, and that your fates are going to cross paths."

"Great, more riddles," I huffed. Seeing they were serious though, I thought for a moment. "It depends how long it'll take us to get there by ship."

Bunny's ears perked up. "So you do have a place in mind, Frostbite?"

"Yeah. But it all depends on the length of our journey."

"What d'ya mean by that?"

"Well, in about two or three weeks, I should be going up to the far north to start guiding the winter storms south. I'm usually close to Berk by now to end their summer."

"Berk." North though for a moment. "I have never heard of this place."

"Neither have I," Bunny added.

Tooth hesitated. "…I have."

"Good!" exclaimed North. "You can tell us about it on way there!"

"I will say now that it's not the most…Guardian-friendly place in the world."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. She looked away, blond hair hiding her face, and didn't answer. I left it at that.

"Come everyone. To the sleigh!"

A sleigh? Really, wasn't there a more…normal kind of transportation? I had to admit, I wasn't looking forward to it.

North began walking down the spiraling staircase to the red-carpet halls again. I followed, Tooth right behind me. Bunny came into the rear; was it me or did he seem uncomfortable about this situation? Probably was, 'cause he hates me and all.

I skidded back next to him. "So what's bothering you, Cottontail?"

"Never call me that again, Frostbite," he muttered back.

"Frostbite? I like it!"

Bunny sighed. "Well, if you must know, I'm not one for the sleigh. That bloody thing should be chopped up and used for firewood if you ask me."

Wow, okay, that was real hatred. How bad could that thing be?

I tried to lighten the mood. "So, are you always in a bad mood, or is it just one of those things you do around me?"

"Listen kiddo. I don't care what you're trying to play at, but I'm doing this all to get back at Pitch Black. He's ruined countless lives and I will not allow him to get away with it again. So you'd better know what you're doing, or you'll have a real fright trying to run from my wrath."

"Scary," I deadpanned.

Bunny was about to say something when North threw open double doors and noise encased us. We were in a tunnel made entirely of ice. Wooden beams supported the walls, pillars with lamps attached to them were the only source of light. Yetis and elves ran to and fro, shouting orders and jingling respectively. The whole place was chaos. Just walking through and a yeti threatened to chop off my head with a sword (why he had a sword in his hands, I have no clue).

"Boys, ship-shape! We must get going!" shouted North.

Now I was really uncomfortable with the situation. "There's no way I'm climbing into some rickety old…sleigh?"

The sleigh was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Several reindeer were pulling it along, all of them bucking and skittish. They were all taller than me, their breath steaming out of their noses as they huffed. North calmed them as I looked at the vehicle itself.

The thing was large enough to seat us all comfortably. Made of wood and metal, it was painted bright red and had four curving, shiny things on the bottom. What are they, rungs or something? Anyway, that thing was made to fly. It had folding wings, a turbo blaster, and a built-in globe for navigation.

I was impressed, to say the least.

It took me a few seconds to regain my composure, but afterwards I managed to say, "Okay…one ride, but that's it."

"Everyone loves the sleigh," North said quietly, nudging Bunny with his shoulder.

Sandy was already there, sitting on the far right. I sat down next to him. "Wow, you're Guardian duties don't seem to take that long, do they?"

He just shrugged and smiled.

"Welcome back!" squealed Tooth.

"Bunny!" roared North. "What are you waiting for?"

I noticed that Bunny actually looked pretty worried for a change. Nothing like the arrogant prick I knew from before. "I think my tunnels might be faster, mate. And, uh, safer."

"Bah, nonsense! Get in!" North grabbed him by the scuff of his neck and threw him down next to Tooth. "Buckle up!"

"Where are the bloody seatbelts?"

"Ah, it's just expression! Are we ready?" North asked a yeti while Bunny hyperventilated. The yeti panicked and started warbling something, but he was clearly ignored. North grabbed the reigns and whipped them with force. "Out of the way!"

Yetis and elves scrambled to safety. Bunny made a weak sound, his nails digging into the seat and scratching the paint away. I laughed, but my attention was diverted as we began to descend into the tunnels.

If I had to bet what a roller coaster felt like, it would be this.

The only sounds were the pounding of hoofs, North's laugh, and Bunny's screams of terror. I was breathless, mouth opened in a wide smile, unable to sit down like the others. The sleigh slid from side to side, making loops and spins that I didn't think was physically possible.

"I hope you like the loop-de-loops!" shouted North to us.

"I hope you like carrots," Bunny replied. He did look a bit pale, come to think of it.

Sandy and Tooth were simply enjoying the ride. Tooth was laughing, her hair flying back and wings tucked down safely, and laughing as though there were no tomorrow. Sandy had his hands up and a smile as wide as mine on his face.

"Here we go!"

I jumped to the side of the sleigh as we cleared the tunnels and were outside. We were on the edge of a cliff, a wooden runway under us. The bottom looked a mile away. Then there was nothing but air under us. And we were flying, the sleigh rising as the reindeer pulled us along into the open sky. The sun was shining, no clouds to be seen, and the snow glittered beautifully on the surrounding mountains. That. Was. Amazing.

Only Bunny seemed to think the opposite, still gripping the seat like it was his only safety.

Oh, I was going to have so much fun teasing him about this!


Part 2 – The Vikings

Berk: The Chief's House (Hiccup's POV)

It was dark and cold when I reentered the village. Night was falling. The stars above winked down at me as if they knew my secret. Such a cowardly boy, they seemed to say. So useless he couldn't even kill a bound, helpless Night Fury to save his own reputation.

"Shut up," I muttered darkly to the sky.

It didn't help that I was still conflicted about my actions. On one hand, I was beyond disappointed in myself. Seriously, what Viking would let an opportunity like that slip through his fingers? On the other hand, I had saved a creature of legends. I saw what no other Viking had ever lived to see: a living Night Fury. And I lived to tell the tale…that is, if anyone believes me.

They wouldn't. I had no proof, and my track record with dragons hasn't been the best one. My shoulders slumped as I climbed the hill towards home. Now I would have to answer for what I did. I knew what I would tell my dad tonight. For the first time in my life I would agree with him. I wasn't meant to fight dragons.

I opened the door as quietly as I could. It'd been replaced while I was out, though the charred doorframe could use some repairs. Being new, the door was heavier than before and took more effort to open (definitely to keep the heat in for winter). That also meant it creaked open on the hinges obviously.

Closing the door also made a very obvious click. I looked over my shoulder. My dad was tending to the fire, his back turned towards me. The fact that he tensed meant he heard me. I snuck to the stairs and dashed up, feet pitter-pattering with each step. The wooden rungs were still too large for me to walk up normally, so I used my hands and feet for the extra boost.

"Hiccup."

"Dad." I flinched. We rarely spoke nowadays. This couldn't be a good sign. Still, that was my opportunity; it forced me to face him and say what I had to say. "I have to talk to you, Dad."

"I need to speak with you too, son." He walked over to the stairs while clasping his hands together.

We took deep breaths at the same time. I blurted out, "I think I don't want to fight dragons."

He said something at the same time; all I caught was "fight dragons."

"What?" we asked in unison.

"Uh, you go first," Dad said.

"No," I replied, "no, you go first."

"Alright." He exhaled loudly. "You get your wish. Dragon training…you start in the morning."

Gods help me; this was not what I was hoping for. Please tell me this is some sort of sick joke. What I said next came out in a blur. "Oh man, I should've gone first, 'cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough…bread making Vikings, or small home repair Vikings, or-"

"You'll need this," he grunted, tossing a *very* heavy axe into my arms (which I needed both arms to hold). Oh gods, he was serious!

Weakly, I said, "I don't want to fight dragons."

Stoick chuckled. Could he seriously not see I wasn't joking? "Come on, yes you do!"

I tottered down the stairs after him. "Rephrase. Dad, I can't kill dragons!"

"But you will kill dragons."

"No, I'm really very extra-sure that I won't." If there was one thing I learned from this afternoon, it was that.

The playfulness from my dad's voice vanished. He said in a very, well, stoic manner, "It's time, Hiccup."

"Can you not hear me?" I cried.

His face became the stony one he wore in front of the villagers. His voice was just as cold. No longer was this my dad, this was the leader of a ruthless Viking clan. "This is serious, son. You are almost an adult, and when you come of age you have to be able to defend yourself. Especially if you are to become the next chief of Berk."

He picked the axe out of my hands and shoved it into my left. I knew he was trying to understand that I was in fact left-handed, a rarity and inconvenience in our culture, but the fact that even I could tell from holding the weapon that it was balanced to be wielded with my other hand didn't help.

"When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us, you talk like us, you think like us." Stoick looked down on me after adjusting my sagging shoulders and wimpy arms. "No more of…this."

"You just gestured to all of me!" Like this hasn't happened before.

He ignored my annoyance. "Deal?"

"This conversation if feeling very one-sided," I remarked.

"Deal?"

I could feel the anger in his eyes burning me. My resisting his will wasn't helping. Though something was knawing at my heart not to give in, I sighed and admitted defeat.

"Deal."

"Good." The Viking slipped away and my dad stood before me again. He shouldered his travelling pack and put on his treasured hat; that could only mean that there was another attempt to find the Nest.

"You're leaving?" I asked.

"I am."

I hadn't been expecting that. "But winter's just around the corner. Even you were going on last night about needing to feed the village. And you know you're running the risk of the water freezing before you have a chance to get within a safe distance of the village!"

He sighed wearily. "I know, son, but we're Vikings. It's-"

"An occupational hazard," I finished for him. "Right…"

My dad half-smiled and seemed to hesitate as if unsure what to say. "Well…train hard. I'll be back within a fortnight. Probably."

"And I'll be here." I thought of the Night Fury again and my stomach seemed to fall away. "Maybe."

Berk: Dragon Training Arena

"Welcome to Dragon Training!"

The five young Vikings stood at the entrance of the rink as Gobber threw open the iron gates. Astrid took lead, squaring her shoulders and saying, "No turning back."

The rest followed her in, their expressions somewhat haughty. Slowly, the wonder that filled their eyes was undeniable. The rink was a large flat area carved out of the side of a mountain near the village that overlooked the sea, which was as grey as the overcast sky. The ground was solid rock, scarred over years of fighting and training. Walls of stone surrounded the young Vikings in a perfect circle. Chains crisscrossed over their heads to keep any stray flying dragons in. On the furthest side were several heavy metal doors held shut with wooden poles as wide as the trees they were originally made from; a few of them were shaking and banging as the dragons caged inside them sensed the new arrivals and were straining to get out.

Gobber smiled a little; he remembered his first day of dragon training very well. It took place on the very bedrock of the arena. Gods, how young he and Stoick had been!

Tuffnut was the first to break their awed silence. "I hope I get some serious burns!"

"I'm hoping for some mauling, like on my shoulder or lower back," cut in his twin sister Ruffnut, rolling her shoulders while saying it.

"Yeah," said Astrid with a no-nonsense tone. "It's only fun if you get a scar out of it."

"Yeah, no kidding, right?" Everyone turned around to see Hiccup the Useless. He was standing near the entrance, shoulders slumped and looking at the ground. He looked up for a brief moment to mutter sarcastically, "Pain. Love it."

Berk: Dragon Training Arena (Hiccup's POV)

The first thing I heard was Tuffnut. "Aw, great! Who let him in?"

What a great way to start the day – being killed by my fellow initiates. Gobber seemed to think so too, because he cut in before the comments escalated.

"Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village." He said this while using his prosthetic (a long hook today) to make a twisting motion in front of me. I knew exactly what it stood for. I breathed and ignored it, nerves already wracking.

"Hiccup already killed a Night Fury, soooooo does that disqualify him or…?"

Wow, my own cousin. Not that I was surprised; Snotlout isn't exactly the kindest of people…at least to me.

The others didn't help by laughing at his joke. They still thought I had been lying about the Night Fury. I did actually hit it, but killing it didn't go too well. Truth is I didn't tell anyone about it. Somehow, it felt like something that should be kept a secret.

As they walked away, Tuffnut asked, "Can I transfer to the class with the cool Vikings?"

Normally I would add a snide comment like 'what other Vikings?' but I kept my mouth shut today. Perhaps being undermined here wasn't what I wanted.

Gobber, sensing my darkening mood, put a hand on my shoulder and walked over to the others. He said some words to comfort me, but I must say if there's a Viking that sucks at making someone feel better about themselves, it's Gobber. "Don't worry. You're small and weak. That'll make you less of a target. They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens instead.

"Line up!" he barked to the class while pat/throwing me into their midst. I bumped into Fishlegs. He looked down on me – he being the tallest and widest out of everyone – but didn't say anything, at least. I saw Tuffnut shoot me a dirty look from his place on the other side of 'Legs.

"Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight!" Gobber began. Only Fishlegs looked truly excited as the introductions began. "The Deadly Nadder."

"Speed 8, armor 16."

I knew he was a bit of a geek when it came to dragon facts, but I didn't realize it was to this extent.

"The Hideous Zippleback," continued Gobber.

"Plus 11 stealth, times 2."

"The Monstrous Nightmare."

"Firepower 15."

"The Terrible Terror."

"Attack 8, venom 12!"

"Can you stop that?" Gobber shouted. He sighed before placing a hand on the nearest lever that would open the doors. "And…the Gronckle."

"Jaw strength 8," Fishlegs whispered to me.

Snotlout's face went from scowl to scared. He stepped out of line. "Woah woah, wait! Aren't you gonna teach us first?"

"I believe in learning on the job." And with that the doors opened and the Gronckle shot out.

We all scattered to various corners of the arena. It was natural instinct: more places, more targets, less chance of being killed.

"Today," said Gobber, oblivious to out fear, "is about survival. If you get blasted…you're dead."

No way.

The Gronckle hit the wall. It saw a pile of good-sized rocks and swallowed them whole. I knew what it was doing. Gronckles, being boulder class dragons, would swallow stones which they heated inside their bodies and shot out. Cut through timber and blasted bone. Highly effective.

"Quick, what's the first thing you're going to need!" asked Gobber.

"A doctor?" I asked.

"Plus 5 speed?" Fishlegs added desperately.

Astrid, who I might add was the only one that didn't look panicked, replied, "A shield."

"Shields," the older man confirmed, "go!"

Of course this was the first time I noticed the sheer number of shields conveniently lying around the rink. I guess they really didn't want us dying. I found a red one nearby and tried to put it on. Looks like all the shields were made for right-handed people. Oh, the curse of being a lefty!

While I struggled to figure out how to hold my axe and put on my shield backwards, Gobber continued feeding us facts. "Your most important piece of equipment is your shield. If you must make a choice between a sword or a shield, take the shield!"

He hobbled over to me, shoved the shield on my arm, and shoved me into the middle. Meanwhile, the Gronckle chased a screaming Fishlegs around the arena. Ruff and Tuff had their hands on the same shield – a green one with two skulls and flames painted on it – and were arguing over it.

"Get your hands off my shield!"

"There's, like, a million shields!"

"Take that one," Tuffnut said. "It has a flower on it. Girls like flowers."

In the moment it took him to gesture with his head, his grip loosened and Ruffnut yanked the shield out of his hands. She didn't even hesitate as she bashed him over the head with it. "Oops, now this one has blood on it."

He grabbed the shield again and they continued a round of tug-of-war. The Gronckle, seeing a very easy target, shot one blast at them. The shield exploded in a jolt of flames and the two spun and hit the ground.

"Tuffnut, Ruffnut, you're out," stated Gobber.

"What?" they asked, not really sure what hit them.

He ignored them and continued teaching. "Those shields are good for another thing. Noise. Make lots of it to throw off a dragon's aim."

The rest of us quickly began banging on our shields with our weapons. The effect was pretty effective. The Gronckle seemed tired, dizzy, and/or confused. It shook its head without much avail.

"All dragons have a limited number of shots. How many does a Gronckle have?"

Now that we seized banging on our shields, I almost immediately ran to the side where a very cozy looking empty equipment rack was leaned against the wall like a makeshift shelter. Someone else could answer Gobber's question for me.

"Five?" asked Snotlout.

"No, six!" Fishlegs corrected.

"Correct, six! That's one for each of you!" As he acknowledged the praise, the Gronckle shot the shield out of his hand. "Fishlegs, out!"

Fishlegs threw his hands into the air, weapon abandoned, and ran away screaming. With the second weakest person blasted, Gobber turned his attention back to me. "Hiccup, get in there!"

I peeked out of my hiding place long enough to almost get killed by a fireball. I jumped and flitted back to where I was. There was no way I would ever get used to this dangerous place. Snotlout, on the other hand, was so comfortable he was flirting with Astrid nearby. She seemed more focused on the dragon, though.

"So, uh, anyway, I moved into my parents' basement. You should come by sometime and work out." "You look like to work out!" His shield was gone within a breath.

"Snotlout! You're done!"

"So I guess it's just you and me, huh?" I asked Astrid, finally finding the courage to wander out to the middle.

"Nope, just you."

"Wha-?"

I barely had enough time to shield my face before a flaming rock knocked my shield straight off my arm. It began rolling away and I ran after it. Get the shield, get the shield, get the shield, a mantra went in my head as I chased after my wood lifeline.

"One shot left," Gobber said as I ran, arms outstretched. My fingers managed to graze the wood once or twice, but it tumbled slightly to the right and away from me. Unable to turn around I kept going straight until I stumbled and my back was against a wall. There was no escape.

"Hiccup!" I heard a shout, but I couldn't think.

The Gronckle sniffed me a few times. I could feel its fiery breath ruffling my hair. I froze. The dragon, now done sniffing, decided I was an enemy. Its mouth opened. I almost expected it to roar like the Night Fury, but instead fire formed in the back of its throat. I saw my life flashing before my eyes. I held my breath. This was it; I was going to die.

I curled up, arms around my head while looking away, awaiting my fate.

A lifetime seemed to pass until I felt the heat above me. Wait, above? Gasping, I opened my eyes to see Gobber's hook in the dragon's mouth. He had turned it ever so slightly so it blasted the wall above me.

"And that's six," he grunted while swinging the Gronckle in circles. "Go back to bed, you overgrown sausage!"

He flung the dragon quite forcefully into the cage and slammed the door shut. By then, the others had regrouped and gathered in the inner rink near where I was still in the fetal position.

"You'll get another chance, don't you worry." I wasn't sure if he was speaking to the Gronckle or us. As everyone caught their breaths and their wits, Gobber added, "And remember this…

"A dragon will always, always," he emphasized, "go for the kill."

I curled up there for another moment until my legs had dejellified. Then I stood and placed a hand on the charred stone. Death had been so close. But as I was catching his breath, a thought struck me. A thought that caused me to forget my near-death experience for the day and ponder over something from the day before. A dragon always went for the kill…

Raven's Point: Hiccup's POV

"…so why didn't you?"

The pieces of sawed rope and stones were where I'd left them the day before. They sat there doing absolutely nothing, but made me ask this question to no end. Gobber said it; they always go for the kill. Even the Gronckle in the rink tried at it today. But the Night Fury didn't. It pinned me down, had me disarmed and unable to escape and easy to finish off, yet all it did was roar in my ear and fly away.

Why?

I let the bola drop out of my hand and stood from my crouch. The forest was silent today. Thankfully, the earlier cloud cover had broken, making the air warm and sunny. There were even birds still singing, so that meant more days like this ahead. At least that meant Dad and the others wouldn't be stranded by ice sheets this week.

Letting myself get lost in thought, I was about to walk away when I swore I heard the sound of wings in the distance. In the same direction the Night Fury went the day before. I didn't stop to think; thinking was becoming somewhat underrated in Viking culture anyway. I acted on impulse, walking carefully to where the noise came from. If there was one think I could to, it was walk silently without being noticed by anyone who could and would not hesitate to nag, bully, and/or annoy me.

After a few moments I came across a cove. I knew this place existed, but rarely visited it. It was about forty faðmr wide and ten or fifteen long. It was well secluded, the only entrance being a small opening I was able to duck and walk through; a full-grown Viking would have issues getting into such tiny spaces.

Sunlight streamed through the surrounding pines in splaying rays of gold and warmth. There was enough to have grass straggle through the unblemished soil a far, fatal fall below. Rocks and boulders scattered in random heaps covered in spongy moss. In the middle was a large lake that even from the distance I could see was full of fish that lazily splashed on occasion. Birds fluttered to and fro from the few tree branches there were, chirps and twitters filling the air. The sound of wings I thought I'd heard, though, had completely vanished.

"Well this was stupid," I muttered. Why would there be a Night Fury in a cove anyway? It was probably back at the Nest by now.

I was ready to give up and leave, but something shiny caught my attention. I kneeled down and saw several glinting scales reflecting in the late afternoon light. I picked one up. It just barely fit in my palm, circular, and black as charcoal. I'd never seen these scales before. What in Odin's name…?

A sudden black shape flashed before me. I cried out, dropped the scale, and backed away into the shadows by the rock wall of the tunnel. A dragon fell in front of me. The Night Fury! I was sure it was the same one! It flapped its wings furiously, trying to climb the sheer rock with its claws until it lost its grip and went down with a cry.

I crawled out a little, cautious. It didn't notice me; rather, it had its back turned to me and was shooting a purple flame at the ground in frustration. The part of me that wanted to learn saw a chance. I fumbled for my journal. Finding it in my inner pocket, I whipped it out and opened to the next blank pages. I began to draw a rough outline of the dragon – its pointed head and sleek wings, the tail and the fins.

"Why don't you just," I whispered to myself, "fly away?"

Then I noticed it didn't have a left tailfin. Strange. I smudged it out of my rough sketch.

The Night Fury tried to flap again. It got into the air, but fell before reaching a great distance. It slammed into the ground with tremendous force by the water's edge. A few shocked fish splashed out of the shallows. The Night Fury turned its head to watch them for a moment. Then it pounced, head snapping at the elusive fish in the water.

I sighed a bit while I watched it. I didn't know what was wrong, but it wasn't normal for a dragon to be downed, unable to fly. This thing looked miserable and in the moment, weak. I relaxed a bit. Then I dropped my pen.

It fell down the rock with a noticeable clatter. The Night Fury tensed at the sound, and looked up. Its eyes met mine. I gasped, expecting it to attack. But it didn't; it only continued to watch me with an unusual sort of expression. What it was I couldn't tell, but it didn't seem like a monstrous killing legend in that moment. It looked like any other living creature.

And for a second I wasn't scared anymore. Instead, I was fascinated.


And there we go! Another ridiculously long chapter. Question: should I split the chapters to a two-part thing. So I'd post the Guardians then the Vikings as separate chapters? You're choice. I really don't care; I tend to work out of order anyway, so updating might be a bit more sporadic, yet frequent.

Reviews are always welcomed and loved! To everyone who reviewed before, I hope this story is living up to expectations. Thank you for the support! I'm always open to PMs too, so come by and write me whenever.

Okay, I've got another chapter to get onto! Later peeps!

-Sushi