Pissed off Hiccup. Beaten villain. New mysterious character.

I really enjoyed writing this.

Please enjoy reading.

Chapter 20

There was a noise.

A loud siren like sound and suddenly a blue explosion on the beach.

Three Goblin warriors lay dead in the sand and even more were trying to recover. It struck so fast. There is no way anything could move so quickly.

The Vikings began to smile and the dragons grew smirks of their own.

Another explosion killing several more warriors.

"What is that thing?" Sjuka asked cowardly to the Vikings.

"That would be a Night Fury." Astrid answered. "And riding it is my very..."

Another sound. Another explosion.

A Goblin ran by the group on fire trying desperately to make it to the water.

Astrid shook her head and made a "That has to hurt," face.

"...very pissed off boyfriend." She ended with a smile.

"How do i make him stop?" Sjuka asked becoming more and more terrified.

"Why would I want him to stop?" Astrid replied. "He'll probably keep going 'til everyone of you is dead."

"What if I just kill you first?" Sjuka said drawing his knife. He was going to die he was going ot take these insolent little brats with him.

He began to walk toward Astrid. He had a cruel smile on. He may not be able to have all the fun he wanted to, but at least he would have some.

Sjuka hadn't realized the explosions had stopped.

He froze and dropped his knife. He backed away from the posts with a look of absolute terror on his face. He tripped and fell as he retreated.

Out of the dark came a large figure flying in from the Ocean. It had angry green eyes and razor sharp teeth. Its sleek black body was tense and was holding back a rage that wanted to rip Sjuka apart.

Atop it was another young Viking. He dismounted and as he slid from the saddle Sjuka noticed that one of his feet was made of metal.

He stepped in front of the dragon as he ignited a small blue fire in his mouth.

"No," Sjuka said in disbelief.

Before him stood a Viking with a foot made of Iron. And he was silhouetted by the blue fire behind him and above his head were the green dots of his dragon's eyes.

"The Iron Walker," Sjuka let out.

"I'm not entirely sure about the job description for that," The Iron Walker said. "But, apparently it means that I'm pretty feared around here."

Sjuka was speechless. He sat in the sand praying for mercy.

"Are you Sjuka?" Hiccup asked.

Sjuka's heart stopped. How did he know his name?

"Well," Hiccup persisted.

Sjuka nodded.

Hiccup scowled. "I thought so,"

"Please My Lord," Sjuka began to plead. "Do not punish me for following orders. Onde wished commanded me to kill them."

"From what the Oracle told me," Hiccup said. "You enjoy your job a lot."

Sjuka's heart sank. "The Oracle? She is—"

"Was." Hiccup interrupted.

"Was?" Sjuka asked. "Oh dear gods. She's..."

Hiccup nodded.

Sjuka could not believe what he was hearing. If the Oracle was dead then so was their culture. Their society based itself off the wisdom of the Oracle.

"So tell me why you should live," Hiccup continued.

"Please be merciful My Great Lord," Sjuka begged.

"Would you have been to my friends?" Hiccup asked.

Sjuka had never felt such fear in his heart.

Hiccup turned and walked over to Astrid and drew his knife.

"Sorry I'm late," Hiccup said while he cut the ropes binding her to the post. "I didn't want to risk them killing you on the spot."

"Better late than never," She said with a smile.

The ropes fell.

Astrid began to help Hiccup untie the other Vikings and their dragons.

They recovered their weapons. Sjuka just sat too frightened to move.

"He's all yours," Hiccup said to Astrid.

In the Hall

Onde walked toward the door to look for what was happening.

The loud sound. The explosions. What was going on?

Just as he reached the door he was met by Bryr.

He was out of breath. He looked like he had bad news.

"What is wrong?" Onde asked him.

"The Oracle... she's..." Bryr let out between breaths.

"She is what?" Onde asked. His concern was growing.

"Dead," Bryr said.

Onde felt as if he had been hit in the chest.

The Oracle did not pass on her gift. And if she was dead...

"Everyone get ready! We will show this Iron Walker who she is dealing with,"

"The girl is not the Iron Walker," Bryr said. "There must be another,"

"I don't care who it is they die tonight," Onde said.

"Onde." Bryr addressed him so casually. How dare he? "Maybe we can negotiate a deal,"

"You would have me grovel to this... human." Onde said.

"No but we must think of some sort of alternative."

"Forget it," Onde said. "We will fight."

Bryr reached out and grabbed his friend's arm.

"We can't die because of your..."

Bryr had not even seen Onde grab his knife. But it was too late.

Onde dug the knife deep into his friend's chest.

"I told you old friend," Onde said with only a small twinge of sadness in his voice. "You think too much."

Bryr staggered back into a wall and slid to the ground. A look of shock still on his face from his friend's betrayal.

Onde rallied his troops and sent them towards the eastern island.

He walked away not even glancing back to see the fate of the man who had stood by him since his coronation.

The knife protruded from Bryr's chest. It felt a white hot pain that nearly immobilized him. All he could do now is push himself to get back to the Temple.

At the Temple

The young looking man examined the room.

He looked over at the dead Oracle and then at one of the paintings.

Finally, a human worth watching.

The mysterious man walked over to the entrance of the Temple and gazed out at the other islands.

"I do hope you make it out of this young Haddock," the man said. "The last century has been such a bore. I desperately need something different."

He used his great vision to watch all the way from his point to the eastern island to see Hiccup free his friends.

"Someone worth watching indeed." The man repeated out loud.

This boy had thrown the whole of existence out of order. That would explain why the Oracle could not see her own demise.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll even help me piss off my brother."

The man looked to the West. There was a storm gathering.

He smiled. "Maybe that's already done."

With Hiccup

Astrid spent the next minute beating Sjuka as he cried and wailed like a child.

When he had no power he was as useless a warrior as Hiccup used to be.

Actually, scratch that. Hiccup was beaten and bullied every day. But, he took it. He never carried on. When he did cry he did it in private. This coward had no pride and no dignity.

Finally, Hiccup stepped in.

"Alright Astrid," He said. "That's enough. I have some questions and I need him to be conscious."

Astrid let up and shrugged. "Okay, I've had my fun."

She gave him a last kick to the ribs.

Hiccup walked over to the crying form that was once the embodiment of fear and torture.

"So, Sjuka are you going to just answer my questions?"

He nodded.