"Will he come around from his depression?" asked Arn.

Astrid shrugged. "I don't know. But I can't get over my worry for him."

"We're all as worried as you are, Astrid," said Fishlegs with a sigh. "It's as if he's broken…"

Weeks had gone by ever since the death of Stoick. The riders and their dragons were healed of their wounds, but things were not getting any better for Hiccup. His father's passing left him in a state of depression, and his rise to chieftain placed a heavy burden on his shoulders.

The skies over Berk had also turned grey and cloudy, and the days were somewhat colder. Some of the villagers wondered if it was a reflection of Hiccup's sadness.

For most of the time, he would either be sitting alone in his room, or be atop the chieftain's throne in the great hall, thinking about what he could have done to save his father, despite the fact that there was nothing he could have done. Not only that, but he also ate little, slept little, and did barely interacted with his friends; including Toothless, Astrid, and his own mother.

For him, his life was torn in two.

However, there were other things that happened since Stoick's passing. For one, most of Clan Jorgenson had already left Snotlout, and in a massive exodus they had rejoined the Berkian Tribe, which in turn brought Berk back to its near full glory. Snotlout was left alone with only two hundred loyal warriors, whilst Hiccup's tribe had more than five thousand people.

And then there was other news. Letters were received from the dwarven kingdom of Khaz'ardul and the elven realm of Lightwood, sent by both the dwarf and elf kings Morgrim and Lornduil, who made requests to come to Berk. In response, their pleas were accepted.

Since then the riders waited, wondering when they would arrive.

From atop the hill near Hiccup's hut, the riders spoke in quiet discussion, with their eyes gazing down at the heavily populated village of Berk.

Astrid sighed. "I guess we'll have to wait for him to come around, and until then, we'll really need to help Valka out with the village."

"And what of the two kings? Morgrim and Lornduil? Any news from them?" asked Fishlegs.

Arn shook his head. "No," he responded. "It's been a week since they sent us their letters. There hasn't been any kind of news from them since then."

"Pfft, I'm sure they'll come soon," replied Tuffnut with high self-esteemed tone. "Though this does reminds me of uncle Loknut."

"Oh yeah!" chuckled Ruffnut.

"I'm sorry, but who exactly are you two talking about?" asked Arn.

"Uncle Loknut," Tuffnut replied, with the mentioning of him once again making Ruffnut giggle. "We invited him to come to the annual Thorston feast, but at the time, he was on the other side of the Archipelago. Even though it should have taken him a week or so to get to us, it took him MORE than a month. It was hilarious!"

Ruffnut howled in laughter. "I know, right? We didn't even start the feast until he arrived! Ah… so funny."

The others stared at the Twins with confused, looks as they continued snickering and chuckling, which lasted nearly a minute straight. Shortly afterwards they walked off, leaving Astrid, Fishlegs, and Arn standing there, baffled.

"I understand the waiting part, but how does that have anything to do with what we are talking about?" asked Arn.

Astrid sighed in annoyance. "Like we said, they tend to bring up the most random things ever, I don't know how they do it. Sometimes I wonder if their stories are even true, because from what I have counted thus far, there is no way they can have eighteen uncles."

"...However, that is of no importance. The question is, what do we do from here?"

"I would say our best option right now is to help out Hiccup, Valka, and the rest of the village," answered Arn in suggestion. "I mean, we'll need the chief for when Morgrim and Lornduil arrives, and I'm sure they'll have something good to say to him… hopefully."

"We must find a way to get through to him."

"I agree," nodded Fishlegs. "I'll be wandering around to help the people out. If anyone needs help in this village, I'll be there."

"Same," Astrid replied in agreement. "But I can't guarantee that I will always be available. Having to take care of both Stormfly and Toothless has been a bit of a struggle, so…"

"No worries, I can take your place while you're tending to the dragons, at least when I am free of course," said Arn, to which Astrid gave a look of relief.

She smiled at him. "Thank you."

"No problem," he said. "...Now, I think we should get down to business. But before I actually get to doing anything, I may need to continue reading that spellbook. I've been at it for weeks, and I feel like I'm onto something. Something that can finally help us out..."

…

"I'm glad you decided to come along and help, Astrid. Times have been tough around here, especially since my husband's passing..."

Astrid gave Valka a warming smile. "It's nothing really. I'm just doing what I can to help our people and dragons out."

It was lucky for Astrid that she was laid off the hook that day with both Toothless and Stormfly, but the two dragons were willing to help her out, thus the three of them made their way to Valka and Cloudjumper, both of whom were busy with tending to the dragons within the dragon hangar.

Together, the five of them worked back and forth, carrying buckets of fish to the central feeding station, and as soon as it was filled to the brim, dozens of dragons from their burrowed caves and tunnels flew out towards it and began to feast vigorously.

Valka wiped sweat off her forehead as they walked off to the side. "Thank you, Astrid," she sighed. "That would have taken forever were it not for you three."

"Really? How long were you even down here, Valka?" asked Astrid.

"About an hour or two. There was no one else down here, so Cloudjumper and I decided to get to work. It would have taken maybe twice the amount of time to get it all done if you hadn't appeared."

"Wow," said Astrid with a straight forward reply. "Well then it's a good thing we showed up to-"

Before she could finish her words, the young viking felt several light nudges against her arms from both Toothless and Stormfly, who were warbling and squawking at her as if trying to tell her something.

"Hey, can we go eat? Please?" crooned Toothless in Dragonese. "There's soooo much fish, and I need something to grub on!"

"Please Astrid?" squawked Stormfly. "My mouth is watering!"

"Will you two relax?" Cloudjumper responded with a light exhale.

Of course, Astrid could not understand a thing they were saying, but she easily assumed that they were hungry.

"Alright, alright. You two can join in."

Both of the dragons immediately ran off, running swifter than a horse, with Cloudjumper slowly following behind. Upon reaching the feeding station, the dragons quickly and respectfully made way for their alpha upon laying eyes on him, and as such, Toothless and Stormfly began gnawing on fish.

Valka chuckled. "Toothless is quite the alpha to his kind, isn't he?"

Astrid only responded with a light nod. "Yeah… but we aren't much without our own alpha. Our chief," she said, almost in a stressing manner. "Valka, how are we supposed to continue on like this without Hiccup? I mean- have you seen him recently? His health?"

"Hmph, yes," Valka noted - her voice turning softer. "His health has been slowly declining. He hasn't been getting much sleep, nor eating much. Gothi even confirms that he has been losing some weight."

"Is there nothing we can do?" asked Astrid, glancing between Valka and Toothless, who was busy eating. "Toothless really wishes he could see Hiccup again, but he always gets shrugged off or shunned."

"All he really thinks about is Stoick. About his father."

Valka shook her head as she shrugged. Her ideas were running slim. "By this point, we can only reach him through some sort of miracle. Something that could possibly reignite Hiccup's fire."

"Like what? Some sort of discovery?"

"Maybe. But I don't know. We can't hope to possibly find the answer through assuming. We'll need all the help we can get."

"Right," nodded Astrid. "Perhaps the others and I can try to figure something out - maybe even help Arn out with the spellbook he is reading. He says he's been looking for answers and that he's onto something. Maybe it's some sort of spell Gothi can use to help Hiccup out of his depression?"

"I wouldn't say there's a spell for that, Astrid," Valka said disagreeingly, though respectfully. "But what about the others? What are they doing?"

"Fishlegs went off to see if the people in town needed any assistance, while the Twins are off doing their own things. Though speaking of Fishlegs, I actually wonder, what is he doing right now…?"

Before Astrid could wander off in her thoughts, the sound of footsteps echoing throughout the cavern of the hangar caught their attention as they spotted Eret son of Eret running down the stone stairs from above. He seemed to be in a rush.

What was it that he had to say? Did something happen?

He came to an abrupt stop upon reaching them. "Valka, Astrid, I have something for you and the others. It's very important." he said, somewhat breathily.

"What is it?" asked Valka.

"Two letters. You might want to read them..."

...

"And so I gripped my arms around that viking's neck and threw him into the ocean! That was the last I ever saw of him and his crew."

"And the Thunderheads named you Gobber the Mountain?" asked Fishlegs, to which Gobber nodded his head as he drank from his mug of mead, replying cheerfully, "Yup!"

The two large vikings sat alone with their dragons in Gobber's workshop, both having a talk by the fireplace as Gobber told Fishlegs a couple of interesting stories. As interesting as they were however, the younger viking's mind told him that he should not stay, especially since it was getting a bit boring.

"Well…" softly said Fishlegs. "I am glad I was able to help you clean up your forge and workshop, Gobber. But maybe I should-"

"Eh, don't stress it too much, lad! I'm sure the rest of the village has everything under control. After all the people you've helped out so far, you've released stress off our shoulders and made the town's self-esteem go up. You should give yourself a pat on the back, and as well as relax. Have a mug of mead!"

"A- Are you sure?" asked Fishlegs, glancing between Meatlug who slept in the corner with Grump and Gobber who was over by a barrel near the counter behind them, filling another mug with mead. "I mean- I don't want to drink too much or anything-"

"Of course not, lad. You get two mugs only. No more, no less."

Gobber walked back over to him, firmly handing him a newly filled mug as he sat back down in his chair with his own mug, which of course was attached to his prosthetic. "Well lad. Skál!"

Both roughly raised their mugs to one another, before drinking out of them heartily - though with Fishlegs going at a slower pace. After about a few seconds though, Gobber had already emptied his mug.

"Whoa, you're done already?"

Gobber chuckled as he wiped his mouth and moustache of any foam. "Downing one mug is nothing, lad. Downing twenty however, oh that is something!"

"Is that something you really did?" asked Fishlegs curiously, to which of course Gobber nodded.

"Aye! It all happened one cold night during the Snoggletog feast. It was when both you and the other lads and lasses were just kids. During that time, my cousin Hobbler was visiting - and he challenged me to a drinking game. Being the arrogant son of an ugly muttonhead I was, I accepted. And so, I challenged him."

Fishlegs leaned a bit forward in his chair. It seemed like the mead was slightly getting to him as he drank, because he was interested. "And then what happened?"

"The drinking game began, and we went for it," replied Gobber, smiling at the nostalgic thoughts. "We were both given twenty mugs of ale each, and we were both supposed to drink all twenty of 'em. The prize for the winner was a new axe, and so we drank and drank as much as we could - determined to win it… except Hobbler bit off more than he could chew- or rather, drank more than he could swallow, because the dumb drunken fool ended up fainting at ten!"

"And you drank all twenty of them?"

"Gods yes I did!" howled Gobber in laughter. "But then at the end I myself also ended up fainting. Those twenty meads made my head feel smashed in. Oh, those were good times…"

For a moment Gobber's mind went off into the blue, remembering the times when life was actually good - aside from the whole dragon-killing part. When he came back to reality however, he took Fishlegs's now emptied mug before standing from his chair and walking over to the mead barrel, filling both of the large tankards back up.

"Well, here's your second," said Gobber, handing Fishlegs his refilled mug as he sat back down. "Now. Let's see how fast you can down it. Ready?"

Fishlegs gave a nod as Gobber then counted down, "Three, two, one, and…!"

The young lad immediately got to it and gave it all he had, drinking down gulp after gulp of mead until after just ten seconds, the mug was empty with not a single drop.

Gobber saw how the way Fishlegs drank it was not like Fishlegs. He even ended off his chug with a large burp, which was something the lad hardly did.

"Another round?" asked Fishlegs.

Gobber shook his head. "I told you, two mugs only. You'll get drunk if I give you another! How do you think the others will react when they see you-"

The two of them heard a sudden knock at the door of the workshop, to which Gobber replied, "Come in," and in came both Astrid and Valka, both of whom had serious looks on their faces.

"Astrid? Valka? What are you two doing here?"

"Fishlegs, we have news that both you and Gobber may want to hear," replied Valka.

Gobber rose one of his brows. "Oh?"

Astrid stepped forward, carrying the letters that they were given. "Eret came by today with these two letters. It's from both Morgrim and Lornduil."

"The dwarven and elven king?" asked Fishlegs, standing from his chair in surprise. "Finally! So what do they say?"

"We're in luck," Astrid answered with a smile. "Both Morgrim and Lornduil are only a day away from Berk. They both said they'll be arriving here tomorrow! After so much waiting…"

"We'll need to get the town prepared if they're going to be arriving tomorrow," said Gobber who also stood up from his chair. "Everyone needs to know about this… as well as Hiccup…"

...

"Come on… what does this even mean?"

Arn's eyes gazed at the last page of the spellbook, reading the runic words which had cut off the rest of the chapter about the Wings of Midgard. He still had no idea what they meant or what they said, but he was not willing to give up like Hiccup nearly did.

He would not give up.

Yet despite the fact that he believed he was close getting onto something, he still struggled. He flipped through the spellbook from front to back and back to front thrice, and so far there was nothing. "Come on you stupid book, give me something!" he grunted, gritting his teeth.

But after nearly an hour of flipping pages, Arn was beginning to get a slight headache. Seeing the same page multiple times and having to read through it had tired his eyes out.

"Forget it," Arn sighed as he shoved the spellbook aside, still wide opened on the last page. His elbows were on the table, and his hands rubbing his eyes. "Is there really nothing I can do to figure what in the Hel those runes mean? I mean, it's not like I can cast a spell on them and make them change…"

Arn sank further in, lowering his head in exhaustion. His head spun in thought and his eyes nearly closed tiredly as if a great force was pushing them down. After all, what could he learn from a spellbook that gave no answers on the runes? Runes he could not even read…

...However, something suddenly popped up from what he said. 'It's not like I can cast a spell on them and make them change…'

Looking back at the book, Arn noticed the nearby glaring glow of a brazier reflecting it's fire onto the page of the book, and suddenly a new idea popped into his head as his mind recalled back to Hiccup casting his spell.

"...Could it work?"

If what he assumed was right, maybe Hiccup was the key...