A/N:

What happens when a wannabe aerospace engineer writes fiction for HTTYD? You get a scene like the first one in this chapter, heh.

The second scene is more solemn, however. I wrote that scene shortly after watching HTTYD3, and the mood reflects that.

NOTE: Last chapter's docks scene got some noteworthy trade gossip added. If you don't recall reading that, consider taking a quick look. It's not mandatory for this chapter's last scene, but the context helps.

Hiccup and his wife Astrid stood at the crest of a hill. Their kids, Zephyr and Nuffink, preoccupied themselves with drawing and head-banging. Gobber and Fishlegs paced around nearby, the former with nervous apprehension, and the latter, with barely contained excitement.

In front of them laid a strange, dragonlike contraption. Its exposed skeleton was made of wood, the tendons of rope, and wings of stretched canvas, and in place of a powerful torso or a spade-shaped head, it carried a cloth harness. With two wings, two small mid-fins, and a long, double-finned tail, the average Viking would describe the craft to be reminiscent of a Night Fury.

"Are ye' sure this flyin' contraption is a good idea?" Gobber asked, gesturing at the contraption and the distant cliffs and sea. "You seem to crash every other flight."

Astrid was nervous as well. "How can you be sure this will work?"

Zephyr, a youthful girl with her father's hair and mother's eyes, spoke up. "Dad will be fine, I know it!" Her blond brother, Nuffink, nodded vigorously in agreement.

"I'll be fine," Hiccup said. "I've based my glider on Toothless' frame and his wings, so it should be fairly familiar in the air."

"We've done our research," Fishlegs added. "Hiccup used my detailed sketches of Toothless' wings in his designs, and we did more stationary tests while tied down to the ground. Besides, I have a pretty good feeling about this one—"

"You said that last time!" Astrid interrupted.

"The last one was perfect, except for the wood I used in it," Hiccup said. "Now, however, I've made sure to use some strong hardwood in the wing spars."

"I—well, okay, but please be careful," Astrid said. She moved to hug Hiccup. Nuffink and Zephyr followed suit, though they were much less concerned than their mother was.

At that, Hiccup turned to inspect his inanimate dragon. After that, he put on his wingsuit as a precaution, in case he had to bail, and hauled the craft up onto his shoulders. He secured the harness to his chest and grabbed a support bar in front.

A gust blew over them, and Hiccup could feel his wings wobbling impatiently in the breeze. "Fishlegs, how's the weather?"

"Let's see... it's morning, so it will be turbulent out there, but that means you'll get plenty of good winds," he said, looking through his notes. "My experiments with kites have confirmed that the seaside ridges do provide consistent lift, like you were saying earlier. As for normal updrafts, I haven't been able to figure them out yet. My evidence is inconclusive, but try following any soaring birds if you spot any and see what happens."

Hiccup nodded and turned towards the edge of the hill.

Gobber chuckled. "Now lads, watch as our Chief throws himself off a cliff, yet again. Never gets old, eh?"

After that remark, there was quiet. Hiccup waited for a strong gust to blow in his direction—there! His glider caught one, immediately threatening to lift him off his feet.

"Guys, I think this is it!" Hiccup said. His heart beat a little faster, and he stepped forward, starting down the hill. "Fourth attempt, here goes nothing!"

He ran down the hill, and his glider got lighter and lighter, but he continued speeding up until he broke out into a downhill sprint. He lifted the front of his craft and it bit into the air, pulling his feet up and away. He was aloft!

The headwind lifted his craft into a gentle climb, and he swung his feet back into the harness. He cleared the trees at the bottom of the hill, and he heard his friends and family cheer behind him. It's working!

He continued climbing for a moment, gaining a modest amount of altitude before he slowed too much, and stalled. His wings wobbled, and he compensated by leaning forward, pushing the nose-end of his craft down to trade height for speed. He began a gentle glide.

He didn't have much height to work with, having just launched, but that didn't matter. The sheer cliffs of New Berk were just ahead.

He angled himself to fly straight over the cliffs. The ground and trees fell away, and he could see the shining sun, the cloud-saturated skies, and the shimmering sea all around. Memories of endlessly chasing the sun in the evening with Toothless came to mind, and he knew that he had missed this feeling.

But he was not out here to fly into the sea. He shifted his weight and banked in a wide circle until he returned to the cliffs, losing altitude as he did. He didn't have enough altitude to return to his launch hill, but years of flying with a dragon had taught him how to fix that. On windy days, cliffs and ridges would deflect the wind upwards, creating long, steady updrafts that they could follow for miles.

He flew alongside the cliff, and edged himself closer until a sudden bout of turbulence grabbed a wing, unbalancing his flight. He knew what to do from experience, however, and leaned aggressively into the airflow.

Both wings entered the draft, and his craft evened out. The cliffside breeze caught his wings, and he started gaining height. He smiled.

He had to admire how dragons and birds alike could fly for great distances without flapping their wings. They had a knack for finding columns of rising hot air, or thermals, to soar upon on cloudy days. Fishlegs discovered that the thermals usually formed above abrupt changes in terrain and under new clouds, and, if Hiccup was lucky, he could soar around Berk for miles, hopping from one updraft to the next.

He balanced his craft to stay above the ridge-lift, and he passed over a large outcropping. He could see all the way down to the beaches far below, where his first attempt at flying laid. From this distance, it was nothing more than many specks of debris scattered across the rocks, but it was a stark reminder of the inherent dangers of flight. His wingsuit was the only thing that saved him.

But he had learned from his mistakes. He and Fishlegs determined that they placed the wings on the first craft too far forward, and the balancing point of its weight, too far back. As a result, the sailplane overreacted to every movement like a ball balanced atop a hill, ravenously biting into every turn until he lost control.

His current design was much safer. By building a wooden imitation of Toothless' frame, Hiccup got the double benefit of having an airframe that would work, and one that he knew. For all the good his wingsuit had done him, its small wings weren't good for anything other than falling with finesse. It could not soar like his hang-glider could.

His glider rose up to the limit of the ridge-lift, a few fathoms above the peak of the ridge. It stretched far ahead of him, curving away from the endless ocean and around the island of Berk, encompassing its wild forests and untamed grasslands.

He spotted a sunlit outcropping of rock in the distance, next to the shaded forest. He saw a young cloud far above it and began to suspect that he had found a thermal.

He flew closer along the ridge, and he got close enough to see a flock of birds circling above the outcropping. He had definitely found an updraft.

He circled underneath the birds, entering a column of rising air. His glider began to sail upwards, and he grinned as he rose defiantly against the pull of the earth.

Several minutes passed. The cliffside shrank until he could see the edges of his island below, if he turned his head. Wow. This is amazing.

From this staggering height, his village was little more than a patch of missing trees and outlines. His life, work, and responsibilities laid down there, but for now, he was free from them all.

The flock of birds banked towards the sea, beginning a great migration for the winter as they flew towards the horizon.

He flew out of the updraft, and a sudden wall of cold air hit him as he began descending. His pelts and face-mask couldn't shield him against it, and he shivered a little. There was no scaly blanket under him to keep him warm, and there was nobody around to catch him if he fell. He was alone.

As the birds left, Hiccup knew that it was time for him to head off on his own path. He leaned towards Berk and began searching for an updraft to ride.

He flew under an elderly, shrinking puff of a cloud, and sank faster. He pulled away and resumed his search. After some trial and error, he lost more altitude and began getting close to Berk when he found a young cloud above the boundary between Berk's forests and grasslands.

Another draft lifted his glider, and with it, his mood. Flying a glider was akin to haggling with a merchant, buying height with speed or speed with height, and always coming out with a loss, but this time was different. These updrafts were proof that he wasn't trapped on the ground without Toothless. He could fly on his own.

He would've been content to stay up here forever, but eventually, he knew that he had to end his sojourn in the skies. He took in the clean clouds, the endless ether, and the whisper of the wind for one final moment, and dove.

He leaned forward into a sharp descent, feeling his limbs float as he became free from the chains of Earth. The air began whistling, growing louder in a tremendous crescendo until it roared. He felt a familiar rush overcome him, the feelings of exhilaration and danger pumping together, and beamed.

He streaked past the distance that had taken him ages to climb in mere moments, and Berk came into focus. Suddenly, it was time to pull out of the dive.

He leaned back to even out his craft, and the wood groaned as he did. He tensed, and grabbed a strap on his harness, ready to yank himself free if he had to bail, but there was no need. His craft held, and he entered a blistering flight above the island's peaks.

He shot over a few hills with his newfound momentum, enjoying his free flight until the air slowed him down. Now he was out of speed and height, and his joyride was over.

He reluctantly turned towards the village and picked out a grass field to land in.

He spotted his friends and family running over to the field. He circled over them, lined up with the headwind, and began his final approach for a landing.

"I told you he'd make it!" Fishlegs shouted. Gobber stood beside him, leaning on his leg, and looking very winded, but relieved. "Odin's Beard, it worked!"

Hiccup swung his legs down from the harness, skimming the grass. With a careful tilt of his wings, he slowed, and touched down in a sprint.

"I'm back!" Hiccup said, feeling his euphoria die away as he slowed to a stop. He immediately felt the urge to return to the sky, but he knew he didn't have the time. He started taking off his gear when Astrid and his kids approached.

"Hey Astrid—"

She punched him. Nuffink and Zephyr laughed.

"Hey! What was that for?" Hiccup protested, rubbing his shoulder. He could not get himself to be properly upset at her, for her punch was gentle, even by his standards.

Astrid smiled. "That's for scaring me."

"What!? What did I do?"

"I thought you crashed," she said. "I couldn't see you through the trees after you dove to the ground, and I thought you broke up like last time."

"Oh, okay," Hiccup said. "But there's no need to worry. I always come back in one piece." He smirked. "Well, two."

Astrid laughed. "But you keep crashing."

"Well, there's been a lot of failures, but I figured it all out in the end," Hiccup replied. "If I don't succeed, I just keep trying and trying until I get something that works."

Astrid looked at him for a moment and nodded.

"And that's what I like about you."

"Aw, Astrid," He reached for her hand, and she moved to hold his—

The wind picked up, and something tumbled in the grass nearby. "Er, Hiccup," Gobber interrupted, "Sorry to bother ye', but ye' might want to check on yer' glider—"

"What!?" Hiccup broke away from Astrid to look. His glider, the thing he had spent dozens, if not hundreds of hours crafting, was sliding away in the windswept grass.

"Oh Gods! Someone stop it—"

He bolted, and the others laughed as the craft eluded him, tumbling and twisting like a terrified Terrible Terror. Eventually, he caught up to it and pounced, tackling it to the ground as if it were an animal.

"Gotcha!" he said. He checked the sleek canvas and the curved wooden spars for any damage, and to his great relief, they were fine. "Fishlegs, could you help me carry this?"

"Sure thing," Fishlegs said, stepping over. "We should start heading back so we can put this inside."

Hiccup didn't respond, tenderly tracing the wingtips with his thumb.

"Hiccup?"

"Right, yes, we'd better get going," Hiccup said. He hoisted up the glider with Fishlegs' help and started walking back to Berk.

Gobber came over to pat him on the shoulder. "Nice work, lad. Ye' sure know how to prove the naysayers wrong. Who woulda' thought my former apprentice would build somethin' to fly on his own with, eh?"

Hiccup opened his mouth, but his son cut him off.

"Dad, that was amazing! When can I try?" Nuffink said, leaping in front of him to get his attention.

"Someday, when you get older," Hiccup said. "It takes a lot of practice to get used to."

"What about me?" Zephyr asked. She was older, but still young. "We'll have plenty of straw after the harvest in a few weeks. We could make a big pile to practice landing in!"

"That's a good idea," Hiccup said, earning him a worried look from Astrid. "I'll work out something."

He took one last look at the distant sky and turned to lead his group back to the village.

"Well, I think I've neglected my Chief duties enough for one day," Hiccup said, causing the others to laugh. "We all better get back to work on preparing for winter."

"Aye, about that," Gobber said, "I finally figured out a way to cast nails quick n' easy for our usual repairs."

"Hey, that'll come in handy. How did you do it?"

"Water wheels, lad. It's amazing what you can do with 'em. Use one to turn a bunch o' rollers and screws to flatten and cut metal into rods, then throw in a few taps with a hammer, and you got yerself some nails! O' course, ye' can do more than make nails, and it's all easier said than done, but that's the gist o' it."

"Isn't that something. How long did it take to get the process figured out?"

"Eh, a year or two," Gobber frowned. "Nobody ain't got the time or metal for extra projects. Ah, I miss havin' an endless supply of Gronckle iron… but I did it in the end."

"Yup. It's amazing what you can do if you set your mind to it."

The sun was descending upon the horizon. The glaring ball of flame mingled with the distant mountains, and an endless variety of hues stretched across the sky. A sentimental shade of orange surrounded it, fleeing with the flying fireball into the past, while a cyan-black color conquered the current sky, capturing the warmth of day.

The wingsuit-clad Chief of Berk stood before a great precipice, watching Berk and the sun's reflection recede before him after another complete, busy day. He stared ashamedly at his wings, wondering if he had some kind of unhealthy obsession. Vikings had their mugs of mead, and he, his wings. He sighed.

There was once a time when Hiccup had felt inadequate, lonely, or outcasted, but those days were long gone. Now, he had pretty much everything he had ever wanted. The approval of his late father, the love of a girlfriend-turned-wife, and the respect of a tribe who once mocked everything about him.

And yet, he felt hollow and purposeless inside.

Life on New Berk was good, but tedious. Farm food, chop wood, build homes, suffer the winter, and repeat. There were no lofty goals to work toward, nothing other than making enough ale to last the winter. There weren't any conflicts to worry about, for Berk had lost contact with the world until recently, and thus had been blissfully ignorant of war. Their last skirmish was with Grimmel's surviving warlords, years ago.

Hiccup was approaching his thirtieth birthday, and with that realization came a reflection upon his past—Where was his life going? He ended a war as a teen, then brought some measure of peace to the Archipelago, and then what? Nothing in the isolated village could match up to the success he had then, and he wondered if he would live the rest of his years like this until old age took him.

The sun finished its descent. The last ray twinkled as it slipped below the horizon, and Hiccup caught a glimpse of the edge of the night's shadow. He watched it fly over the grass, leap over the trees, and skim above the ocean before it dove off the edge of the world. With that shadow came the end of the day, the end of an era.

With a sigh, Hiccup turned his focus to the cliff and Berk in front of him. It was time to head back. He opened his wings, put on his mask, and nearly bolted off the cliff when someone appeared. Astrid, clad in her Nadder suit, had just climbed up the path to his side.

"Oh!" Hiccup exclaimed, skidding to a stop. "Good evening, Astrid!"

"Hey, nice view up here!"

"It is!" After a moment, Hiccup realized something. "Oh, sorry for leaving you with the kids. I just, uh, needed a moment."

She walked up to his side. "No worries, they're at Gobber's place now. I saw your note, and noticed your suit was gone, so I figured you came here. Mind if I tag along?"

"For sure, yeah!" Hiccup put on a smile, but Astrid knew him well enough to tell that something wasn't right. There was a lengthy pause, and he stared at the ground.

"Hiccup, how have you been doing lately?"

"Well," he sighed. "I guess I'm just having a hard time letting go of the past."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't stop thinking about the dragons—about Toothless—and the time we've had together."

"Well, you guys were close. Good friends for sure, maybe even like brothers, I suppose. I miss Stormfly as well, but you'll get used to it, eventually."

"But the feeling doesn't go away. When I lost my father, I felt awful, and I still do miss him, but I was able to pick up his job and move on. But with the dragons, the feeling keeps coming back. I feel unfulfilled, like I haven't finished a job or something."

He sighed and continued.

"I don't know, I've just been feeling pretty restless. Life isn't perfect, and I wish it was safe enough up here for them to fly freely, but they had better stay hidden until they may return in peace."

"Hmm. Well, life was a lot busier back then," Astrid said. "You were always working towards something big, like getting dragons and people to live together peacefully. Now, we don't really do that anymore."

Hiccup nodded, and they gazed at the dimming horizon. There was still a bit of twilight from beyond the horizon, faintly illuminating the clouds.

Astrid realized something and turned to look at him.

"Hiccup, what happens if they can't come back?"

"Huh? That couldn't happen, they'll be able to come back, eventually."

"When? Will it ever be safe for them to return?"

"I'm not sure, but that shouldn't matter. We have to wait until it is."

"Wait? So does that mean we should sit around and do nothing until something changes?"

Hiccup was taken aback. "Astrid, we raid any ships that stray too close, and we tell our tales of peace with dragons to other tribes. There's nothing else we can do, not without endangering ourselves."

"That's not much. Those tales are just stories to them, myths that they laugh at or wish were true. Most tribes still think the dragons are fearsome monsters, and their voices are louder than ours. If the dragons stay hidden, the world will only remember the cruel, simple beasts that they think dragons are. The true nature of the dragons will be misrepresented in myth and story, and if we sit around and do nothing, they won't be able to return in peace, ever."

Hiccup took a sharp breath and then exhaled with a sigh. "Well, maybe they're just better off that way. Forgotten, misunderstood, but safe. Happy."

"Maybe. But, maybe they're not, and they might not stay hidden forever, or be totally forgotten. The world is big, but not boundless. What if someone finds the Hidden World?"

"That wouldn't happen."

Astrid scoffed. "You said 'wouldn't' that time. How can we be sure?"

"What is it with the words 'wouldn't' and 'couldn't'? Does it matter what I say?"

"It means that you're not sure of yourself, deep down. Your father said you were destined to find their home, didn't he? If he knew their home existed, then that means that someone discovered their hidden refuge, and we're not the only ones who know about it. The secret is out, and people are always exploring the seas. Someday, the world will find out."

Hiccup didn't respond.

"With all the prejudice going around, we'll be back on square one. If there was conflict when the very first Viking saw the very first dragon, there will be conflict when the first human discovers the Hidden World."

Hiccup stared at the afterglow of the horizon, watching the fallen sun's rays reach over and strike the thin clouds. He felt that he could almost reach out and grab that light, that vision of an ideal world, if he tried. He could never grasp it completely, but he could get closer and closer if he chased after it.

"I'll think about it."

"Take your time," Astrid said. "I miss Stormfly too."

They watched the twilight for a while. Eventually, Hiccup realized that they had to start leaving for Berk or risk tripping and falling in the dark.

"Alright, we should go back. Thank you for coming up here, Astrid."

Astrid smiled and opened her wingsuit.

"Race you back?"

Hiccup smiled back and put on his flight mask. "You're on!"

Together, they bolted off the cliff. Hiccup spread his arms and cheered as he caught the sky and flew. He closed his eyes for a joyous moment. Flying with someone else was way better than flying on his own.

He felt something tap him on his shoulder, and he rolled over to look. Astrid was speeding by, smirking at him.

Hiccup grinned back and rolled back down to dive. He immediately pulled ahead with his superior skills and self-made suit, for he was the champion of wingsuit-flying. Toothless was the fastest, most agile dragon ever known, and his own flying reflected that.

And then he realized that he was way too far ahead of Astrid, and slowed for her to catch up. Once she approached, he flew closer to her and risked a game of aerial tag.

After plenty of laughter, tumbling, and near-crashes, they arrived above the village. They banked in a circle to slow down and lined up with a treeless clearing of chest-high grass by the village. They leveled out just above it; the grass flying by only a few arm-lengths away.

"Ready to land?" Hiccup asked.

"Yeah!"

They bent their knees, and the wing-fabric between their legs caused them to violently pitch and flare. Astrid's false wings weren't big enough to stop her flight, but that was no issue. She stalled above the ground and landed with a roll in the tall grass.

Hiccup had more success in his landing. He flared at just the right angle and heaved his wings forward, slowing just enough to land on his feet like a dragon. He came into a sprint, speeding past Astrid.

"Slowpoke!"

Astrid put on a terrifying burst of speed and surged past him. "What did you say!?"

Hiccup laughed and pumped his legs harder. Astrid was quick and light on her feet, but he was fast. Together, they raced towards the village.

Gobber and Zephyr and Nuffink were leisurely strolling through the village while Hiccup and Astrid were gone.

"...What was Hiccup like when he was little? Aye, good question Zephyr. I tell ya, we used to think the poor lad was the worst Viking ever. He was tiny! There was once a time when he couldn't lift a hammer, throw an axe, or toss a bola, and he was the laughin' stock o' the village. We never thought he'd amount to much."

"That doesn't sound like Dad," Nuffink said.

"But he wasn't one to give up. The lad's stubborn, just like all Vikings are, but not in the way most would expect. He couldn't throw a bola, so he built a contraption to do it for him. The next thing you know, he's shot down a Night Fury with one o' his contraptions. A Night Fury!"

Zephyr was surprised. "Whoah, a Night Fury? That's not even in Grandpa's book of dragons! Are you sure he did that?"

"None o' us believed him, but he did it. But then again, he didn't. He spared the dragon, and I tell ya', any Viking woulda' given their arm and a leg—" he waved his hook for emphasis "—to kill a Night Fury, but Hiccup wasn't a Viking. At least, not until he changed the definition of a Viking to fit him."

"Huh. Why didn't he kill the dragon?"

"Aye, he says that when he found Toothless—the dragon—in the woods, he could tell right away that he wasn't alone. There was another soul watchin' him through the dragon's eyes, and he could see the beast's despair when it thought it was goin' to die."

"That's odd," Zephyr said. "Dragons have feelings? I read that they were monsters that you should kill on sight."

"He gave the dragon the gift o' mercy, and the dragon returned it. He went on to discover that it was more than just a simple beast, but that's a story for another day," Gobber said, spotting Eret rushing down towards him.

"Gobber! Have you seen the Chief?"

"Eret! He's probably out flyin' right now. What's the matter?"

"Valka is back."

Gobber passed on the message to Hiccup when he got back.

By the time Hiccup found his mother on the docks, it was nightfall. The horizon had completely entrapped the sun's twilight, and only a few torches burned on the nearly deserted docks to fend off the dark.

Valka was unloading supplies from her sailboat with a few other villagers. She was wearing her usual armour-dress, and atop it, a free-flowing weave of reddish-brown Stormcutter scales that matched her auburn hair. The scales seemed to catch more light than they should have, shimmering in a show of defiance against the night.

"Valka—Mom, you're back!" Hiccup called as he came down the docks.

"Oh! Hiccup!" She bent over to put down a barrel she was carrying, and faltered. She dropped the barrel on the planks and clutched her chest.

"Here, let me help you with that," Hiccup said, rushing over to help. "Are the years starting to catch up to you?"

She didn't laugh. "No, but the arrows are."

Hiccup looked at her a second time. Her face was wrinkled with stress and fatigue, and her scales were broken in one spot around her midsection. A small patch of a bandage peaked out from under her armour.

Hiccup frowned. He had not seen these Stormcutter scales before, and Valka's wound had many implications. "Hold on a moment. What happened? When did you get those scales, and where have you been?"

"Just a moment," Valka said. "I missed you, son."

She drew him into a hug, and after a surprised moment, Hiccup returned the gesture.

"I missed you too."

She pulled back after a moment and sighed.

"That must've been a long journey back, being injured and all," Hiccup said.

"Well, if life was easy, it would be boring," she said. "The scales are from Cloudjumper, as you may have noticed."

"Hmm. If he could speak, I bet he'd say that they look pretty good on you."

"Oh, why thank you," Valka said, "but he wanted me to wear them for protection."

"Huh, that's nice of—Wait, he told you to wear them?"

"I've lived with him and the others for decades, Hiccup," Valka said. "After a while, you start to pick up on their wordless ways."

"Well, isn't that something. When did he give them to you?"

"About a year or two ago—"

Suddenly, Valka realized the implied meanings of her words, and clamped her mouth shut.

"A year or two ago?" Hiccup inquired. "So you've seen him recently?"

"Well, I suppose so."

"Where?"

Valka didn't respond.

"Mom, you're hurt. I need to know what happened," Hiccup said.

"Hiccup, can you keep a secret?"

"Hold on. I think I know what it is."

Valka cocked her head.

"Is it a place out to sea?"

She nodded.

"Is it a gargantuan cave in the ocean with a huge waterfall engulfing it?"

Valka nodded again, and her eyes widened.

"The Hidden World," Hiccup breathed.

"How did you know?"

"I've been there."

Valka gasped, and Hiccup continued. "Toothless and Stormfly showed me and Astrid their secret paradise. I thought we were the only ones who knew."

"My goodness, it's been all these years… and I thought I was the only one when Cloudjumper showed me," Valka said.

"Well, now you know," Hiccup smiled. "It's a stunning place. But there's a reason why Astrid and I haven't gone back: What if someone follows your ship?"

"I take a course with many turns to throw them off, but, after I saw Cloudjumper again for the first time, we met further away from their home. The dragons patrol their neighboring waters, you see, and they know who to call over when they see my boat."

"Interesting. They run patrols?"

"I'll explain that tomorrow, it's getting late," Valka said. "But to be brief, I didn't fly back on Cloudjumper because I worried for his safety, and he worried about not being able to defend his home during that time."

"That doesn't sound good," Hiccup said. "Does that explain your wound?"

"Why yes, it does," Valka said. She pulled out her staff, inspecting its bloodstained edges with a sad sigh. "I couldn't put down the vigilante business."

"Mom," Hiccup said apprehensively. "We're supposed to stick together in our raids on ships that get too close to the Hidden World."

"No, it's not that," she said, growing more stern. "I've gotten myself into a lot of trouble on some missions I could only do alone—the old warlords are still around, and I've found out what they've been up to."

"Really?"

She turned to look at him. "Hiccup, they've given up on enslaving dragons for their conquests. They know there's not enough left in the world above for an army, so they've started doing something absolutely mortifying with those that remain."

"What is it?"

"Remember how our dragons would give us their scales for armour, metal for tools, fire-gas for weapons, and so on?"

Hiccup froze. "Yes, I do."

"They found a way to harvest them for war."

A/N:

Dragon harvesting. I've done some research on dragon fire types, and that's opened an entire pandora's box of possibilities.

How do the bad guys stay in business with a dwindling population of dragons? Well, if you capture at least two of the same species and get lucky, there's a solution to that problem. (Don't worry, the next chapter will not go past a T-rating. I do not enjoy stories that overuse violence.)

Hiccup has a hang-glider now. Some readers may notice the symbolic meaning, or that many words were spent describing it. Hmm.

After much research, I can say that Hiccup's latest contraption is fairly plausible, given his past experience and Fishlegs' study of dragons. The main problem with early flying was the lack of knowledge in flight mechanics and aircraft design, but in a world with dragons, Hiccup has an advantage where real aviation pioneers have failed, such as Otto Lilienthal. (By the way, you should check out Otto's work! He was surprisingly successful for his time, and inspired the Wright Brothers.)

The third film had this message about being able to "fly on your own". Well, Hiccup can do that now, metaphorically and literally. New Berk is now freestanding; they can hold their own. But I ask: While it's good to be able to fly on your own, is it always good to fly on your own, and never rely upon others? There is nobody around to catch you, literally and metaphorically.