As Thick as Dragon's Blood: Chapter One
A/N
First and foremost, hello and thank you, reader, for choosing to read my story. On another note, this is my first 'How to Train Your Dragon' fanfic, so if anything appears off please tell me or comment on it so I know how to improve the quality of my writing and therefore improve the quality of the story. Furthermore, this is the third fanfic I've ever published, so if you have any advice or anything along those line, don't hesitate to give it. I'm open to all criticism. Also, a heads up, I'll try to keep a steady schedule of a one chapter per two weeks or at most once a month, but do not expect a steady schedule. Finally, I hope you'll enjoy what I've written. Without further ado, this is 'As thick as Dragon's Blood'.
This story is inspired by another I read a long time ago. Unfortunately, I believe it has been deleted and I do not remember the author or name of the fic. In the unlikely event the author happens to read this story, thank you, truly, for your writing as it inspired me.
Takes place during the third season of Dragons: Race to the Edge.
ᚨᛋ ᛏᚺᛁᚲᚴ ᚨᛋ ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ'ᛋ ᛒᛚᛟᛟᛞ
Unknown island; shoreline; morning...
It was early in the morning. So early, in fact, the Sun hadn't come up as of yet. For that reason, it was cold and dark, very dark. So much so, it was hard to see a few inches in front of one's self. The Moon was also hiding, cowering behind ominous, dark, and billowing clouds, and that only made things more difficult to see.
The winds and the waves had a restlessness and a formidable anger to them, indiscriminately attacking sandy beaches and palm trees alike. In the distance, a thunderous rumbling gave warning to an incoming storm. Any sane, or at least competent, Viking should've taken shelter and stayed out of harm's way. However--
"Ready preparations!" The commander of the group of Dragon Hunters yelled. "If those dragon cages are not ready by the time I'm back, I'll be having you all put on the black market! Am I heard, loud and clear?"
On the shoreline, a battalion of Dragon Hunters were bringing in a bounty of dragons off of a fleet of boats. A pack of Gronckles, a couple of Deadly Nadders, a pair of Hideous Zipplebacks, a Monstrous Nightmare, and a few 'exotic' dragons. Every single one of them was chained up, caged, and muzzled, ready to be sold.
The unintelligible shouting of men and the deafening growls, howls, and cries of dragons filled the air. The sound of waves constantly falling and crashing as boats entered and exited was heard as well. Old and rusty cages squeaked and creaked as they were dragged off of boats. And metal swords and hammers bashed against metal cages, quieting any unruly dragons. The piercing and incessant ambience continued, on and on, as a near endless quantity of boats docked, delivered, and disembarked.
One boat, however, was a little late compared to the others. It was an hour or so behind. Though, when it did finally arrive, its reason for its unpunctuality became very obvious, very quick. Half of the boat was rotting down to the water line. Its outer hull was utterly scorched and its deck was completely riddled by holes. Of the boat's three masts, only one was left intact, and it was burnt and torn to shreds. It was as if the boat had passed by Helheim and confronted Hel herself... and lost. It was a miracle it was able to return.
The decaying boat prepared to dock. However, it refused to slow down, continuing at a steady, unsafe pace. On the shoreline, people desperately tried to wave the boat down and shouted at it to slow down, but it was an ultimately futile effort. In the end, the boat crashed and plowed its way through the sandy shore. People screamed and dived out of the way of the boat as it came to an eventual halt.
"Hey!" One of the Dragon Hunters cried out. "Do you not know how to pilot a boat? For Odin's sake, you could've killed us all!"
He and some other Dragon Hunters got up, brushed off some sand, and walked up to the disheveled boat. A few seconds later, a large wooden plank was let down as a disproportionately small group of Dragon Hunters walked off the boat, and, like the boat, they were in horrible condition. The clothes on their backs were tattered and stained, and their armor was bent and broken. Some of the Dragon Hunters' bodies were as equally as broken as they had to be carried off the boat. Every one of them was bloodied, bruised, and broken in one way or another. However, none of that mattered, not right now. The one thing that did, though--
"Captain!" The commander of the Dragon Hunters shouted.
He pushed his way to the boat and the survivors. Once he passed by the crowd, he took a look around, taking a few seconds. Afterwards, his eyes fell on a similarly dressed person, presumably the Captain of the neglected boat. He was in the best condition physically out of all of the crew. His clothes were torn and his armor was dented, but it wasn't as bad as his boat.
"Do you have it?" He asked.
"I do." The Captain answered in a quiet and gravely voice.
"Good." He nodded his head. "The Chief would like to see it, as soon as possible."
He nodded his head as he raised a hand, signaling his most able-bodied men to drag a cage off of the boat. At the same time, the Captain glanced sadly at the rest of his crew. "The rest of my men are either wounded or dying, where may be a healer?"
"Healer?" The commander scoffed and shook his head dismissively. "Dead men don't need healers. Now, get going, the Chief does not like to be kept waiting."
...
Unknown island; caves; meanwhile...
The cave had a silence to it, a serene quietude. Only the sound of a calming blaze, a bunch of torches, dared to break the silence. The torches casted a warm yellow and orange hue on the cave's background. All the while, far off noises echoed off of the walls, only adding to the white noise of the cave. It was a soothing ambiance, compared to that of outside.
At the far end of the room, facing the opening in the cave, Viggo Grimborn was sat down at a table. His workspace was an organize mess. On one side a haphazard stack of books rested, on the other a bunch of scrolls were scattered around, and in the middle a 'Maces and Talons' game board was placed.
Viggo, he was busying himself, having an open scroll in front of him as he was setting up the game board, simultaneously reading and tidying up. He was halfway done reading and the Maces and Talons board was almost complete, only missing a few pieces.
However, Viggo's attention was drawn to something else as he heard a pair of footsteps approaching. He took a glance up and saw a familiar figure. The person was a heavy set man, wearing a tunic, studded armor, and dragon skin.
"Ryker." Viggo acknowledged his brother and stood up from his chair. "How nice of you to come on such short notice."
"The Dragon you wanted has arrived." Ryker said.
"It has?" A smirk crept its way onto Viggo's face. "Wonderful news. I assume it's being prepared as we speak?"
"Aye." He answered deftly.
Viggo nodded his head, content. He paused for a second. "Tell me, brother, have you ever heard of a Fictitious Gealdor?"
"I-" Ryker looked as if he knew the answer, however he hesitated as his knowledge of dragons failed him. "I don't believe I have."
"I hadn't heard of such a thing either, until the dragon eye revealed to me its deepest secrets." Viggo took a glance over his shoulder, looking at the table behind him and the dragon eye that was hidden within a pile of old scrolls.
"Let me tell you a story I read once." Viggo turned around and returned to his table. He picked up the scroll he was reading a moment before and turned it so that Ryker could read it. He also grabbed three game pieces off of the Maces and Talons board.
"It's about a strong and brave hero that was convinced by a deceitful old man to kill a dragon that was 'terrorizing' his local village. He did so, and the old man told him to feed him its blood and heart." As he spoke, Viggo placed his game pieces on the table. The Traitor, the honorable Viking Chief, and the Dragon. Viggo, as he narrated, picked up the Viking Chief, representing the hero, and used it to knock over the Dragon.
"However, the hero had a taste of the dragon's heart and gained the ability to discern the speech of animals. And from the birds he would learn that the old man was deceiving him. In lieu of the truth, the hero killed the old man and carried on." The Viking Chief promptly turned around and knocked over the Traitor before Viggo placed it back on the game board.
"What does a little tall tale have to do with anything?" Ryker questioned.
"You miss the point." He said as he returned all of the game piece to the game board and rolled up the scroll, holding it in his hand. Then Viggo turned around to face Ryker once more. "All stories have a truth to them. And this one tells of a dragon lost to time. A dragon that's more elusive than a Night Fury, more mysterious than all mystery-class dragons, and whose powers are beyond comprehension."
He paused, turned, and placed the scroll back on the table. "There're stories that say a dragon's blood is the deadliest poison, deadlier than any other earthly poison known to man. Others say it can heal any disease or grant a person... 'supernatural' abilities. Take note of that last one."
"Kessler and the Lycanwing." Viggo said as he sat back down in his chair. "A fairy tale, most likely, but one the dragon eye recognizes. The Boneknapper. A myth that turned out to be truth."
He leaned back. "What I'm trying to tell you is, don't refuse to believe what's right in front of you, brother. Especially when it's a highly profitable business opportunity, and a way to get rid of competition."
He would leave his brother at that as he rested in his chair. But, not a moment later, a faint roar echoed in the distance followed by the shouts of Dragon Hunters.
"If it is of no bother, I would like to see this dragon for myself."
...
Unknown island; caves; later...
After a few minutes of walking, the brothers arrived at the room where all the dragons were being held. It was a massive chamber of stone, the largest of all the caves. Wooden supports lined every wall and prevented a cave in while also providing a second floor to the cave. Tens of dozens of cages, most containing dragons, were haphazardly lined up close to each other. And, of course, the sound. It was deafeningly loud and it was nigh impossible to hear a coherent thought as the sound of dragons in distress echoed off of the walls indefinitely.
The Chieftain of the Dragon Hunters, Viggo, stood in the entrance and took a look around as his brother stood behind him. Countless indiscernible cages, countless dragons, and none of them were what he was looking for. That changed, however, when his eyes fell upon one cage in particular. It was made of the same dragon-proof metal, but it was dented and draped in a thin, yet large sheet of cloth and tucked in a secluded corner of the cave. And beside it, a man covered in bandages and in tattered clothes sat on a wooden crate, his head held low as he waited. It was the Captain.
Viggo then made his way to the cage. As he did, the man looked up and quickly straightened his back. The look of fear was in his eyes. Once Viggo was a few inches away from the cage, he stopped and glanced down at the Captain and, for a split second, examined his bandaged body before looking away to focus his attention on the cage.
Now, that he was closer, he could hear a quiet rhythmic noise. It was breathing. Though, it was faint and weak, yet peaceful and almost musical.
A moment later, Viggo grabbed the cloth covering the cage and pulled it down. The cage was uncovered, of course, but so too was the dragon it contained within it. And as the Chieftain of the Dragon Hunters laid his eyes on the dragon for the first time, he smirked again.
"Your contributions are most welcomed, Captain." Viggo said. "Finding and capturing a Fictitious Gealdor is not an easy task, I imagine."
He took a step closer to the cage as he began to examine the dragon in front of him. It was fast asleep, perhaps sedated. It was also smaller than he imagined, though its appearance was like nothing he had ever seen before, and it matched the description the dragon eye gave him. A dragon that resembled a bird more than a lizard. Scales and feathers as iridescent as a mother-of-pearl and were the color of pure silver and gold. A body that was similar in shape to a Deadly Nadder. And it had a pair wings that draped its body like a cloak as well as another pair wrapped around its body like a robe of feathers. However, its beauty was lost under a layer of dirt and grime. And some of its feathers were stained a blood red due to an arrow that was stuck in its side.
"I lost everything. My boat, my crew..." The Captain's voice faltered as he tripped over his words.
"Their sacrifices were not in vain." Viggo said as he took yet another step closer to the cage, standing right up against it now.
As he got closer, Viggo took a glass vial out of his pocket. He then reach his hand in the cage and grabbed the shaft of the arrow in the dragon's side. The Captain and his brother watched, confused. That was until Viggo suddenly and forcefully ripped the arrow out, causing the dragon to cry out in pain. Ryker grabbed his swords and went on the offensive while the Captain stood up and backed away. Viggo, however, was unfazed as the dragon remained asleep. Calmly, he used the vial to collect the dragon's blood, the one thing he was looking for. Once the vial was full, he put a cork on the top.
"I got what I wanted." He proudly said as he raised the vial up to his eye level and swirled its contents. "The most valuable of all the dragons in the archipelago, right in front of me, and in my possession."
Viggo took one last look at the sleeping dragon before turning around and walking away.
ᚨᛋᛏᚺᛁᚲᚴᚨᛋᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ'ᛋᛒᛚᛟᛟᛞ