I flicked the light switches on in the hall, moving through the passageway lined with pictures.
My house was cold, the great fire faded down to coals. Our heating units slowly chugged to life, sensing my presence in the house. The room was a large hall like thing, with skins stretched over the banisters.
Walking up the stairs was a task, as new bruises and scrapes accumulated over the day made themselves known. I snagged a Tylenol 1, for once thankful for being so close to the Canadian-North American border.
I tapped the light switch in my room, and it snapped on to illuminate my messy room. One wall was completely dedicated to sketches of weapons, dragons, and posters. My room had a thin layer of crumpled paper on the ground, the result of the problem with my grenade launcher.
With a sigh, I flopped on my bed, and stretched my hands over the side. The sounds of the empty house filled my ears, creaks and slow moans of age.
Lets get this over with, I thought as I opened to the beginning of the book, taking my paper pad out for notes.
"Dragon classifications. Strike Class, Fear Class, Mystery Class." I muttered, writing out everything carefully.
Thunderdrum: This reclusive Dragon inhabits sea caves and dark tide pools. When startled, the Thunderdrum produces a concussive sound that can kill a man at close range. Extremely dangerous. Kill on sight.
"Seems simple enough. But I bet you have to be six feet tall and look like a bear to kill it." As I looked at the next page, my suspicions were confirmed by a crude dragon killing a short man as another man prepared to kill it.
I turned the page.
Timberjack: This gigantic creature has razor sharp wings that can slice through full grown trees. Extremely dangerous. Kill on sight.
I stopped reading, surprised by the ongoing simplicity and lack of information that was given.
It's the twenty first century, so why does this sound like the middle ages?
I flipped past the Scauldron, Changewing, and numerous other dragons. Some burn their victims, bury their victims, choke their victims, or turn their victims inside-out. But every dragon had the words 'Extremely dangerous kill on sight' in their descriptions.
Until I hit the last entry on dragons.
Night Fury. Speed unknown. Size unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself.
I thought back to the dragon in the cove, with its dark hide and electric eyes. I could understand why my ancestors believed in its 'unholy' nature, but I knew that those words did not belong in a scientific book.
I continued reading, hoping that their would be something to make up for the nature of the description.
Never engage this Dragon. Your only chance, hide and pray it does not find you.
"What! That can't be it!?" I complained, tuning the page in search of more information. It only gave a list of theorized dragons, recommended weapons for the various classifications, and famous kills.
In the very back, however, a picture of the author and his tactics had a slim chapter to itself.
He was the usual sort of burly man who I had come to expect in a dragon fighter, with one key difference.
He was short. His wife towered over him by a good two feet, this making him too small to properly handle most of the weapons of his time.
Bork the Bold, previously Bork the very VERY unfortunate, was a man stuck by a mysterious curse. For an unknown reason, he was plagued by numerous dragon attacks throughout his life. After several years of losing his jobs to the lizards, he began making a record of his findings to keep from making the same mistakes. After realizing others have made the same mistakes and never told anyone how to do better, he published them. Unfortunately, after many years worth of attacks his stressed mind snapped; and he was institutionalized. Not to long after, people began to appreciate his effort in helping the normal man protect themselves from dragons. His personal work is held by his family, who feel that much of his work is intensely influenced by his descent into paranoia.
This descent was the reason for the Bork laws, that prevent further study outside standard observation, as the beasts were classified as too dangerous to come close to without death.
- a -
"You know, I just happened to notice the book had nothing on Night Furies. Is there another book? Or a sequel? Maybe a little Night Fury pamphlet?"
It was the next day, and it was already dismal. I woke up late, had to skip breakfast, find a new weapon to replace my destroyed axe, and get to a class I did not want to take. In the end, I went with a training rifle like the twins.
The class that day was a maze of quickly built walls, just tall enough that Gobber could walk with out his helmet sticking out above them. He released the Nadder he had boasted about just as suddenly as he had the previous day.
"Focus Hiccup! Yer not even trying!" Gobber shouted, his voice exasperated as I dodged behind a corner to avoid the Nadder.
"Today is all about attack!" he said, amplifying his voice to the other students "Nadders are quick and light on their feet. Your job is to be quicker and lighter."
Fishlegs was quietly hiding by a barrel, but was noticed by the blue beast, who shot at him violently with its spiked tail.
As Fishlegs ran past, he cried out "I'm really beginning to question your teaching methods."
The other teens ran in groups, until the twins got caught in a corner by the dragon
Gobber saw their plight and gave them instructions.
"Look for its blind spot. Every Dragon has one. Find it, hide in it, and strike."
The twins held still right in front of the dragon, moving only to stay in the blind spot they stumbled on.
Being the twins, they naturally started arguing with in a few seconds. They got so loud that even I could hear them arguing over the spot. The dragon perked up, and turned its head to look at them.
Gobber watched, not really reacting to them running for the other side of the room with the dragon on their tails
"Blind spot, yes. Deaf spot? Not so much."
The dragon chased the two all the way to the other side of the room, giving me the chance to ask some more questions
"Hey, so how would one sneak up on a Night Fury?" I called up to Gobber who sighed
"None one's ever met one and lived to tell the tale. Now get in there!" He gestured at me, trying to direct me back to the group.
I backed up, still talking to him as I came to the start of another hall.
"I know, I know, but hypothetically-"
I heard Astrid hiss "Hiccup! Get down!"
I turned around to see the others clutching their weapons to their chests as they crouched to avoid detection by the iridescent dragon. When it turned around to glare at Gobber, as if it knew who was to blame for her imprisonment, we made our move to escape the dragon.
Whoa, why do you think its a her? I thought, as I attempted to roll after the others. The shield I was holding made a loud crack as I went, attracting the attention of the she-beast, who followed me in to the other passage.
Astrid raised her axe over her head, readying to through it at the Nadder. Snotlout naturally took the opportunity to bolster his falling manliness thanks to the other days defeat.
"Watch out babe. I'll take care of this." he said, and shot all six of his rounds at his opponent.
Even with the excessive firing, he still did not hit once. The Nadder raised her head, tilting it confusion and squawking. She turned in my direction and lifted her wings slightly, before turning on Astrid and Snotlout.
Snotlout continued to defend his shooting, citing the sun and lack of time.
The others ran, and seeing the dragons attention was completely on the other teens and destroying the maze, I took the time to ask more questions.
"They probably take the daytime off. You know, like a cat. Has anyone ever seen one napping?"
A shadow went over me, and I saw that the distraction of the maze had reached me. Astrid came over the wall, and landed right on top of me.
The wall slowly dropped down, and I grabbed Astrid's arm and rolled us away from the damage.
Gobber shouted my name in terror, while Astrid's yelp suggested she was just surprised by my sudden action.
After the sudden movement, she landed on top of me. Her legs straddled my body, and if we did not have a great fire-breathing beauty after us it would have been a dream come true.
We attempted to detangle, as the more immature students commented.
"Oooh! Love on the battlefield!" Toughnut called, then paused to listen to his sister.
"She could do better." was her grumbled response.
The dragon had been starring at us, unmoving in her confusion. She likely was trying to decide who to attack. When Astrid untangled enough to look up at her, the Nadder hissed her challenge.
Astrid's battle axe was wedged in my shield and her practice pistol, filled with shots that would hurt but not kill, was under the maze walls.
As she assessed the situation, I was loosening the straps on my shield, knowing exactly what weapon she would go for.
My actions proved correct, as she grabbed onto the handle of the axe and pulled the whole weapon and shield combo off my arm.
Once she had the weapon, she hurled it at the dragons face, and it connected with a loud crack.
"Well done, Astrid." Shouted Gobber, as the Nadder shook her head and wobbled away to the relative safety of her cage.
Astrid stood silently, watching the dragon until she was sure that it would not attack her. She then rounded on me.
"Is this some kind of a joke to you?!" She screamed, her calm face now filled with frustration "Our parents' war is about to become ours. Figure out which side you're on."
And with that, she walked off.
I stood, with an expression of surprise on my face. I let off a huff of air, and followed the other students out of the arena.
- a -
Updated for clarity.
Edited 1/23/2015