A/N

I listened to the WW1 deathmetal (about battles at Verdun, Passchendele, Hundred Days Offensive, Arditi, etc,.) while writing, in my opinion it fits the story and is describing the emotions.

Also, I rearead the story and it's as depressive as fuck. That rough deathmetal which was also suppossed to be sad on the other hand made it even more depressive.

I plan to write in the future, again, a HTTYD fic in a depressive environment, but it will not be as depressive as this.

The eight-year-old boy didn't know what to do now. He did not leave the place. Yes, he went back to where he got from, but on the way he sat on a piece of fallen tree, put his hands on his cheeks and cried.

He was sad. He felt completely alone.

As he cried, he remembered his father. For a moment he wondered if he didn't miss his Dad. But then he remembered why he had run away from him. He killed his mom. That is unforgivable, unforgivable.

He felt anger and hate towards his father. At that moment, he wiped away his tears and tried to stop crying.

He got angry and kicked to the grass, while he got angry.

He wiped the last tear that ran down his cheek with his right hand. But then the boy stopped.

Now it occurred to him that now he would have to figure out what to do now.

He looked around the oasis in the middle of hell again. Nature seemed so beautiful to him here that he didn't want to leave the place.

Out there, nature had long since been destroyed, and if it survived, it was covered in deposits of snow, clay, blood, burnt wood, and dead bodies.

The air was nice here. Completely different than out there. And the atmosphere here evoked peace and relaxation.

The boy finally reluctantly left. It was a gloomy atmosphere. The gloomy atmosphere prevailed even at the time he was born, but with the Civil War the world was even more depressing than before.

He was a little cold, but he didn't mind. The cold could not overcome the disappointment he had received.

He tried to warm his hands again. Although the winter here was not so terrible due to the Scandinavian conditions, the truth was that it was so warm inside that it threw him back.

It was overcast. In the distance, the boy saw glowing orange lights changing direction, and the sounds of fighting could be heard in the distance.

Jensen looked around the nearest village. He wanted to go there and ask for a night as a man on an expedition.

For about the first time in his life, the boy felt something like depression. The hope he had hoped for in a cruel way had disappeared.

When he walked to the nearest village carrying his belongings, he was silent. It was getting dark slowly, and the boy wanted to cry on the bed when he found a place to sleep.

He suppressed longing for his father. He knew that his father would want him to forgive him, but he would not forgive him, despite the beautiful moments they had spent together as father and son, when his father was not the quiet and grumpy pessimist tired of life.

He walked quietly alone. A gloomy landscape with a sad expression on his face. His childish optimism and hopes that everything would turn out well were definitely gone.

He missed his mother. He could not know that his mother had ended up in a mass grave with the victims of the genocide after her killing, and that he had no way to visit her grave, even if it meant it, and that he would feel at least for a moment her protective, soothing, and loving presence his father had not given him. She brought him into the world.

The world seemed sad to the child because of his young age. He has never known his grandmother and grandfather, his mother is dead and his father is nothing but a liar and a hypocrite.

Why does he have to be his son? Why wasn't he born somewhere where he had both parents and who would give him all the love he needs from both parents?

He stopped along the way with a silent look. He grabbed the stick and began drawing in the snow with his right hand on his face and a sad look.

He drew 3 figures. There was a childish figure standing between the figures of an adult man and a woman holding her hands.

Above them, he drew a heart symbolizing his parents' love for his offspring and dared to draw Toothless next to the figure of a man. He wished his family looked like that, he wished it looked like that..

Jensen finally threw the stick at what he drew in the snow. The snow separated the drawn characters and destroyed both parents' characters and he continued his way to the village.

The boy arrived in the village in the evening. When he came to the pub with the fact that he wanted to sleep in this pub (because she provided these services), the pub first looked at him, but the boy then pulled out the gold coins he had received during the expedition and paid for accommodation and food with them. It didn't happen much to the innkeeper that a single eight-year-old child could pay to stay here.

Jensen ate from the rations they were handing out here. Then he lay down on the bed in the dark, covered himself with a blanket, and began to cry softly.

For the first time in his life, he was so sad. And not just because of his mother's death.

Now, as he cried into the pillow and hugged him, he imagined his mother being with him and comforting him.

But there was another problem. He didn't know what his mother looked like. He saw her for the last time and heard her voice shortly after he was born, but he didn't remember.

But then, while crying, he realized that he should have learned more details from his father.

Why didn't he grow up with them if they liked him? What did his fathers do before and after his birth? Why did his father eventually kill his mother because of what he said he liked her and they really loved each other so much that he was born out of their love? What if his father wasn't such a horrible man? What if he was the best dad in the world despite everything that was going on?

The crying boy had trouble falling asleep. He did feel emptiness, and for the first time in his life, longed for a stuffed animal that he could hold in his hands while sleeping, which would warm him up and drive away the feeling that he was completely alone?

Then he sighed and tried to fall asleep. A hot tear ran down his cheek.

"Mommy... I miss you..."

He muttered as if he were only three years old, and a tear ran down his face again.

But then he felt a pleasant feeling that warmed him all over his body. The feeling of loneliness disappeared, the feeling of security came.

"Don't worry, Jensen, I'm here with you.."

He heard a woman's voice and felt as if someone was stroking his face.

He gathered the courage to sit down, wiping tears by his sleeve.

"M-mom?" He murmured still wiping tears.

The female figure hugged him. The boy cried in her arms for a moment.

"I miss you mom, so much, you're dead and I didn't even know you.." He cried in his mother's arms as if he was a small child.

She stroked his cheek. He finally saw her face.

"Your father loves you even though he doesn't show it so much ... you know, before you were born he had to be forced to do things he didn't want to protect me and you. If he didn't love you, he wouldn't do it."

"Mom, what do you mean by that?" Jensen asked still wiping tears and still pressing to his mother's chest.

"It was hard for both of us at the time you were born. I couldn't see your father much, I felt like you did now and I was worried about you. At that time you were still in my tummy and I was afraid that they would take you away and hurt you."

The boy was surprised at how his mother sounded. His father described her as a fighting and strong woman, but here with him it was clear that despite her visible strength, she is a mother who loves her offspring like any other.

"Dad hurt me a lot when he shouted in my face that he killed you. I was hoping you were still alive. He didn't tell me you are ... that you are.."

"In Vallhalla."

"Mom, I have so many questions and I don't want you to leave me. I finally see you and I don't want you to leave me."

Jensen lay down on the bed again, and his mother covered him with a blanket.

"I'm still here with you. Whenever you are sad, whenever you are alone, I am here with you and I reassure you. Just because I'm not here doesn't mean I'm not with you."

She stroked his cheek again, the boy had a smile on his face, and he felt lucky. Mom was with him.

"Now go to sleep. You're tired, so you need to be strong tomorrow."

The boy felt the touch of her warm hands. He felt something plush and warm in his hands and immediately pressed it to himself.

His mother still stroked his cheek, and the boy felt a motherly kiss on his forehead.

He fell asleep satisfied and perhaps happy when he finally knew that despite the difference between life and death, his mother was still standing by him.

He had a nice dream.

It seemed to him that there was no war, and he was with his parents and younger sister.

He was walking around the island with his parents. His little sister, as her older brother, did not want to leave him.

She scolded him, and both of their parents could only laugh at the look of their children playing together.

It was cold, but this was no bloody and depressing winter, but a fairy-tale winter. The sun shone through the snow until it shone. The birdsong added to the pleasant atmosphere. It was not surprise not when it was the holiday season that families spent together.

The boy enjoyed playing in the snow. He could use his imagination here and create something out of the snow, or throw it at one of his parents.

From time to time she climbed a tree in a verse with an acorn in her feet. They were mostly dark brown or reddish in color and seemed cute to children.

The boy woke up very early in the morning and surprisingly calm but confused. The dream reassured him, but the thing that confused him was not in the dream.

He woke up with a plush toy dragon in his hands. He had never had it with him before and did not know who it belonged to. How did it find itself with him?

He also remembered that when he met his dead mother. It seemed like a dream to him. Did he dream it or did his mother really visit him?

But Jensen kept the stuffed animal anyway. Thanks to the toy, he felt connected with his family and did not feel alone.

His mood improved, but now the question was what now? His father must be wanting him to forgive him. Shouldn't he forgive him?

In a way, the boy's journey now was of nothing he didn't know now, but he no longer felt so angry with his father. Still, he didn't want to forgive him.

When he remembered that, he was where he had been before: He hated his father, he didn't want to forgive him and never return to him.

But the boy was startled when he heard the sounds of a starting battle.

It was the sounds that always changd his father's mood. He didn't know what had happened to him, that his father had reacted like this before he ran away from him, but the problem was that Jensen didn't know what to do now.

Now, at the start of the battle...