Chapter 10: Reactions

I was not to find about the events that happened on Berk after I left until much later, but as it is relevant to this part in the story, I suppose that it deserves to be told, but a word first before I tell their side of the story. When someone leaves you, are they ever truly gone? Do they not remain in all the memories that you had of them, to live on in immortality forever. Especially someone that you love? Even ones that we loathe, they live with us forever, we carry around their memories until the day we die. What these memories can do to one's conscience is something that has baffled man and beast for generations, the extent that grief and sorrow can wreak on one person's soul is too much to contain.

While this may seem like the ranting of a man who has lived many more years than yourself, it is in fact the words of a small boy who lost someone that he held dear at a tender age, me. I wrote those very words in my journal the night that my mother died, in all of my frustration and grief, and those words still haunt me, and when my father found my notebooks the year after I left, he cried for many hours afterword. I don't want to toot my own horn, but never before have I heard such wisdom come from someone of such young age. Think about it as I tell the tale of my father's reaction to my departure...

Stoick stood looking out at the door to the dragon arena, baffled, completely in shock, unaware how to react at all. He simply stared, gazing out into the sky, watching the black speck that was his son and his dragon disappear into the horizon until he disappeared from view all together. And then he fell to his knees and wept.

Gobber was quite shocked. Never before had he seen the great Stoick the Vast so much as shed a tear, and he had lived through some pretty horrendous things. Even after the loss of his wife, even after Hiccup's "death", Stoick never cried. Sure, he was depressed, and would spend many hours in his room, just staring out the window, lost in thought. But now, when he had just basically thrown his son out of his family, watched him hop on the back of the thing that he considered an enemy, that he wept.

Stoick's mind was a mess, a whirling mash up of emotions and thoughts, guilt, grief, disappointment, all of these swirled around his head.

"Odin, what have I done?" he asked himself quietly. "We need to go after them," said Stoick, after he regained his composure.

"With what? They're on dragons, they could have gone anywhere in the world in half of the time that it would take us just to get a ship ready. You do realize that he was riding a Night Fury right?" said Gobber.

"I know, Gobber, but I have to try. I didn't mean what I said, I was just so upset with the latest dragon hunt. We lost so many good men to those beasts Gobber, and seeing that Night Fury, I just went into a rage. If only there was a way to get a message to him. I want him back again. Maybe he was even right about the dragons, but I can't just go befriending the very things that took her away from me," said Stoick.

Gobber just bowed his head, looking down at his feet. Stoick loved his wife, Valhalarma, like she was the world itself. She was a brilliant woman, a mighty warrior and very pretty. Both Gobber and Stoick had taken a fancy to her, and had competed for her affections, but Stoick had come out on top. When Valhalarma was crushed by a catapult that had been blasted by that selfsame Night Fury after helping a little one to safety, well, Stoick was never really the same. In fact, if Hiccup hadn't depended on Stoick, he may have just shut himself off from the world altogether and die slowly by himself, but Gobber never voiced his opinion.

At this point, the Terror that had liked Gobber climbed out of his corner and perched on Gobber's shoulder, his sharp claws digging into Gobber's shoulder. Gobber winced at this, but he shrugged it off.

"You know I think I'll have to call you Knife because your claws are like razor sharp knives," he said, scratching the dragon on the head.

"What the hell are you talking about Gobber?" said Stoick, who whirled around to see Gobber playing with Knife like it was a little cat. Stoick just watched the pair intently, just observing until he intervened.

"Gobber, what are you doing?"

Gobber jumped a little, dropping the little fish he had in his hand, which the Terror scooped up readily. "Oh, sorry Stoick. It's just that this little buddy took a liking to me when Hiccup was teaching us about dragon training, and he's become more attached to me than a tick to a beard," said Gobber as said Terror climbed on his shoulder once more.

"Hiccup trained that thing?" asked Stoick, suddenly intrigued.

"Yeah. I don't know how he did it, I was a little too busy hiding in the corner trying to keep my remaining limbs intact."

"You? Hiding?"

"You don't understand Stoick. Hiccup had all of the dragons in the middle of the ring, and he was just standing there like he was among family. I swear, he even spoke to them in their own language! That boy is something special," said Gobber.

Stoick was silent for a moment before stating, "All the more reason to send out search parties. He's all I have left Gobber. I can't afford to lose him too." At this he walked off to organize the search parties.

When the parents of the other teens heard the news, they were devastated. How could their children just up and leave them like that? It didn't seem right. They loaded the boats up in a time that is still held in the record books of Berk to this day. They set sail in the direction that the dragons had flown off in, hopeful to find out where they had gone.

After about a week of searching, they gave up. They had found nothing, not even a trace of the teens or the dragons. They didn't know what to do.

All five families mourned the loss of the teens, as they were pronounced either dead or lost. No one quite knew how it could have happened, as the events of their departure were never released by Stoick.

Stoick ever forgave himself. He blamed himself for their leaving, which was partly true. His fury had been the trigger that had set Hiccup into action, and he felt extremely guilty. His vigor to kill all the dragons he found grew, and in the raids he was known to fly into a blood red rage where he thirsted for the blood of dragons, and only Gobber could calm his down.

Gobber just watched on, sad to see what Stoick was doing to himself. He tried to help, but nothing he did ever helped. Stoick's hate of dragons grew, even though Gobber tried to convince him that the dragons could be trusted. Gobber had to hide Knife because he had once stumbled upon Gobber with his hands around the dragon's throat, about to rip his head off. Gobber had tried to train dragons, but all he got from it was a nasty burn across his good leg, which ached a lot when he walked.

All in all, Gobber wished that Hiccup could come back. Stoick's grief was killing him, and it was all Gobber to do to stop himself from just up and committing suicide. To see his best friend reduced to such levels was deeply disturbing for Gobber.

Gobber knew that the other parents' reactions were not nearly as bad. All of them had other children to look out for, and couldn't fall into the same level of grief as Stoick. He knew, of course, that they still wept for their children in private. The Hofferson family had gone so far as to create a small shrine for Astrid, and visited it everyday.

What with Hiccup, Stoick's only heir, gone, Spitelout, Stoick's second in command and Snotlout's father, would have his second oldest son, Sticklout, take over as the heir. Stoick didn't want to do it, saying that Hiccup would come back someday, but he secretly knew that it wouldn't happen.

A year and a half after Hiccup's departure, Gobber found himself sitting at the top of a cliff overlooking the bay, gazing out at the sunset, nursing his burn would that had never really healed. He was thinking about Hiccup, about what he used to do, about how he used to try to act big and strong physically. Gobber knew about Hiccup's mental skills, hell, the boy was almost a better blacksmith than he was, if only he could gather the strength to do the heavy hammering. Gobber really loved Hiccup almost as his own son, who had perished along with his wife under the same raid as Valhalarma had.

As Gobber was lost in thought, he started to see a ship come into sight. It wasn't too large, about half the size of a longboat, but with a strangely fashioned triangular sail. He could just make out the crew six in all, including the captain, a man dressed all in black, standing at the helm. He was of average height, not exceptionally tall nor bulky, but enough of a figure to be formidable. When the ship got closer, he was able to make out the flag that flew from the mast, a black background with a large white gear and the head of a wrench coming down from the top.

Gobber had no idea who these strangers where, and he had never heard of flag or a sail like the one that this ship carried. He made his way to the docks, and waited for the strange ship to dock.

The captain hopped off of the shift, his dark clothing seeming to made of the scales of a dragon itself. On top of his black shirt and pants, and wore a hooded cloak that hid his face from view. He carried a sword on, strangely, his right hip. He drew it out, and it was quite a magnificent thing. Forged from a bright silver steel, the sword was inlaid with a decorative design near the hilt, and the handle was inlaid with silver and gold.

The stranger sheathed his sword, satisfied, and turned to address Gobber in a voice that sounded roughly familiar, but he wasn't sure where it was from.

"Hi. I am the Inventor. Perhaps you can help me."

Duh, Duh, DUHHH! The next chapter will be all about the events leading up to this point from "the Inventor's" point of view. I'm pretty sure that anyone with half a brain can figure out who he is, but anyone who doesn't, you'll find out in the next chapter.