Chapter 2

Monster Battle

Village Plaza, a Few Minutes Ago

Stoick the Vast, Chief of the Hooligan Tribe, surveyed the battleground his village had become. All around him, he witnessed savage beasts of all kinds doing their best to tear Berk apart, and his brave men and women retaliating against the late-night ambush. Monster raids weren't exactly common, but they still happened more often than the people of Berk would've liked, and Stoick had seen his fair share of conflicts. He clenched his fists as he felt his frustration grow, but he kept it under control, and focused on what he needed to do to save as much of Berk, and its food supply, as possible.

"What have we got?" he spoke in a low growl to one of the warriors. His tone made it seem more like an order than a question.

"The usual," the Viking reported. "Leviathans, wyverns of all kinds… and Hoark thought he saw an elder dragon!"

A fireball exploded nearby, and the deafening BANG was joined by a chorus of screams. Smoldering embers rained down on the village, but Stoick paid it no heed, and brushed one of the embers off his shoulder in an unconcerned manner. Instead, he focused on the sky, searching for something that he couldn't spot amidst the darkness.

"Any sign of it?" he asked.

"None so far," the Viking confirmed, and Stoick nodded in approval. Perhaps this raid wouldn't be as bad as some of the others. Already, some of the food and livestock had been taken, but if he could rally his men and mount a proper defense, then they could successfully hold off the invasion until daybreak.

A call came up from one of the men, and in the middle of the village plaza, two great torches rose into the sky. The twin bonfires brought additional light to the flame-streaked night, illuminating the swarms of flying monsters that flocked above the village. Stoick saw a significant bunch of them wheeling in the direction of the barns, and his eyes narrowed. Not on his watch. Grabbing an abandoned weapon that lay on the side of the path, Stoick gathered the Vikings closest to him and gestured in the direction the monsters were heading.

"Move to the lower defenses," he commanded. "We'll counterattack with the catapults."

The soldiers agreed, and they followed their Chief down toward the catapults, carving a swathe through the chaos unfolding all around them. At one point, they passed a building that a Rathalos rained fire down upon, sending it up in an inferno. Some part of Stoick's mind not focused on the task at hand acknowledged the sounds of a Viking calling for water and the village's fire brigade moving in to mitigate the damage. He quickly forgot it, though, knowing that the brave lads and lasses would do their duty.

And hopefully, Hiccup had gotten to safety, where he wouldn't be any trouble…

Present

"A bird wyvern head would get me at least noticed."

As Hiccup griped to his new friends about his lack of social standing whilst holed up safely in the forge, the invasion outside was still going strong. Not all of the monsters rampaged like mindless beasts throughout the village; some of them had a purpose in mind. Around the sheep barn, mean-looking bird-like Yian Garugas stalked, cawing amongst themselves as they searched for a way in.

"Brute wyverns are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get me a girlfriend."

Nearby, some of the land-bound monsters were raiding the food storehouse. The Barroths, heavy-set dinosaur-like monsters with rock-like crowns, greedily scooped up drying fish from the racks they hung from into their mouths. One of them didn't bother with individual fish, simply uprooting the entire rack in its jaws before lumbering off.

"A flying wyvern? Exotic – top of the food chain, so twice the status."

The food storehouse itself was the current target of a mighty Rathalos, the ruby-red wyvern said to be King of the Skies. With a terrible roar, the Rathalos shot fire from its jaws – a powerful enough blast to shatter the whole roof into burning splinters of wood. Its destructive work finished, it swooped off with a dead boar in its talons.

Stoick the Vast witnessed all of this transpire from his perch atop one of Berk's catapult towers, their best line of defense against a horde of this magnitude. He clenched his fists at the sight, but that was the only sign of his building frustration. Wisely, he held it in, knowing that keeping calm and collected was the key to defending Berk to the best of his ability. Already, some of the food and livestock had been taken, but if he could rally his men and mount a proper defense, they could successfully hold off the invasion until daybreak.

"They've found the sheep!" a Viking shouted. The Yian Garugas at the sheep barn had torn a hole in the roof and were making off with a sheep each, while other monsters were now being drawn toward the exposed storehouse.

Stoick was not about to let them get away. "Concentrate fire over the lower bank!" he ordered, triggering the catapult. A boulder smashed into the company of Yian Garugas, knocking one out of the sky and scattering the rest. The sheep were saved, and more boulders began to sail through the air as the Vikings took back their storehouse.

At that moment, the scent of something burning reached Stoick's nostrils. The smell was all over the village by now, but this was much stronger and had come without warning. It was close. Stoick looked around for the source of the new blaze, but soon stopped in his tracks. A flickering light was coming from beneath him.

"And then there's the elder dragons. Only the best Vikings dare go after those. They have this nasty habit of causing natural disasters."

The Chief of Berk peered over the edge of the catapult tower, already knowing what he would see. The bottom of the tower was burning, and the fire was rapidly climbing up toward him, its crackling filling his ears. Then, a great fiery beast burst through the dying wood to sink its claws into the deck. Its mane glowed with embers, its wings fanned out to fill the air with suffocating orange dust, and its eyes were flaming coals set within a twisted caricature of a human's face.

Teostra, an elder dragon nicknamed "the Emperor of Flame". It snarled, lion-like, as it opened its fanged jaws in a grimace that any other Viking would see in his nightmares.

But Stoick wasn't just any other Viking. "Reload!" he shouted over his shoulder. Readying his Hammer, he growled, "I'll take care of this."

He swung, the blunt edge of his Hammer striking the Teostra in the head. Back and forth he bashed it, refusing to let the powerful monster get so much as a half-hearted snap in edgewise. It hissed, as though it were made of fire itself, and raised its claw in retaliation. Stoick, though, was relentless, ducking under its swipe and giving it one last stone-crushing strike.

The Teostra reeled back, but not for long. It recovered only a second later, its mane glowing even brighter in its anger. Stoick felt the temperature shoot up, influenced by the Teostra's intensifying rage, but he stood firm.

But then, the Teostra looked away from him, at something only it could see. It spared Stoick a final, murderous glance before swooping away as swiftly as it had come, taking its inferno with it.

And that was how Stoick knew that Berk's worst enemy had arrived…

Gobber's Smithy

"But the ultimate prize is the monster no one's ever seen," Hiccup continued to lecture to his enraptured audience. "We call it the –"

It was as though speaking of it had summoned it right to Berk. Without warning, a hideous scream tore through the village – a noise unlike any other heard on Midgard, a chilling shriek that never failed to send an icy shiver through Hiccup's body.

"CHAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

The volume of the scream carried over the battlefield and got an instant response from those who fought on it. It was hard to find something that could take a Viking's focus away from the thrill of combat, but this did it. The residents of Berk looked skyward, the movement of their heads like that of a wave spreading across the village. Hiccup, too, raced to the window and craned his neck, his heart pounding.

It was here!

A lone Viking hollered the unknown beast's name. "Gore Magala!"

"Get down!" another warned.

Heads ducked all across the village, but Hiccup didn't budge. Before his very eyes, one of the catapult towers on the cliffside exploded in a bright flash of purple and white. For a second, he thought he saw a monster silhouetted against the light, but it faded immediately after. In the contrasting darkness, he saw the faint outline of the collapsing catapult tower and a black cloud settle over the ruin.

Hiccup pulled himself back inside the forge and turned to see Arachne, Snaketail, and Batwings regarding him with spooked expressions. All three of them were pale with a thousand-yard stare, as though their brains hadn't yet processed the devastating attack.

"The Gore Magala," Hiccup finished, his voice grim. "This thing never steals food, never reveals itself, and –"

"CHAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Hiccup winced and covered his ears as another scream blasted out from close by, scaring the Thor out of him. Then, out of view of the forge window, came the sound of another catapult tower being destroyed and crumbling into the sea.

"…never misses," Hiccup managed to continue, breathless as he tried to calm his racing pulse. "It doesn't use fire, or ice, or any breath attack that other monsters use. Whatever its blasts are made of, they spread this black fog stuff that causes eel pox if you get exposed. No-one knows anything else about it, other than that nobody has ever killed one.

"That's why," he announced, standing up a little straighter, "I'm going to be the first."

"You're serious about this," Batwings noted.

Snaketail tapped her chin. "That's why you built the bola shooter you showed us earlier?" she wondered. "If the monster never shows itself, and the only other ranged weapons you have on the island are unwieldy catapults, then I think you've got decent odds of bringing it down."

"I don't know," a nervous Arachne murmured. "That sounds really danger–"

Whatever the ten-year-old had been about to say was interrupted by Gobber, who pushed his way through the lot of them while strapping a sturdy club made of iron – to which he'd given the creative name of "War Hammer" – to his interchangeable prosthetic. Once the weapon was screwed in place with a click, the blacksmith stopped in the doorway and faced the four of them.

"Man the fort, you lot!" he ordered. "They need me oot there! Me apprentice's in charge."

Then, to said apprentice, he said more firmly, "Stay. Put. There. Ye know what I mean."

Without waiting for a reply, Gobber let out a battle cry and charged off into the burning village on his leg and a half.

The blacksmith hadn't even been out of the smithy for a second when Hiccup decided to make his move. As soon as Gobber was out of sight, the Haddock boy scrambled over to his bola launcher, practically falling over himself in his haste. His hands found the weapon's handles and, hoisting it up like a wheelbarrow, he towed it out the main entrance to the workshop. A small part of him was aware of Batwings flapping out of his way and Snaketail shouting something at him, but he was already out of the forge, his ears being buffeted by the sounds of battle. He swerved this way and that and shouted apologies to each person he nearly ran into.

Excitement coursed through Hiccup's veins and drove his every step forward, every movement of his arms as he steered the bola launcher around angry Vikings. They might've been cursing at him, but Hiccup was too bursting with anticipation to care. All he could think about was his chance.

"Stop being all of you," he says. I'll show him that this little Hiccup can take down the Gore Magala all by himself! Hiccup promised.

"Where the Hel are you going?!" Snaketail demanded as Hiccup flew out the door with his contraption, almost running Batwings over in the process. "Where the Hel is he going?!"

Arachne flinched at the Grundenson girl's outraged glare, flung the ten-year-old's way out of need for an outlet for her aggression. Batwings settled back down and folded his wings up neatly, trying to preserve what was left of his dignity after he'd been forced to dodge Hiccup's wild escape.

"I guess with Gobber gone to fight, he's using this opportunity to go out and kill that Gore Magala," the Siren mused. "It looks like an effective weapon, but there're an awful lot of monsters out there…"

"Wh-What if he puts himself in real danger out there?" Arachne squeaked.

Batwings opened his mouth to reply, but a sudden voice from outside angrily cut him off. "Oi! Are you gonna fix our weapons or not?! We've been waitin' fer ages!"

The three of them scrambled to get back to work, but Hiccup's risky plan remained at the forefront of their minds.

Village Outskirts

The last catapult tower on Berk stood in a lonely, quiet clearing a fair way away from the main plaza. Here, the sounds of battle were faint and barely registered in Hiccup's mind. Upon reaching the tower, he parked his cargo and set up his weapon with practiced ease. In seconds, the protective casing was opened, the launcher erected, and the trigger pulled back. Finally, he aimed the barrel at the catapult tower, ready to shoot at the slightest movement.

Then came the silence, pressing down on Hiccup like a physical object. Time ticked by, with only the sound of his harsh breathing to accompany him. Above, there was no movement amongst the stars. The catapult tower stood resolutely in front of him, shrouded in darkness without the illumination from the village torchlight.

"C'mon, gimme something to shoot at…" Hiccup murmured, crouching into a ready position. "Gimme something to shoot at…"

A monster's call sounded from somewhere in the distance, and he tightened his grip on the bola launcher's controls. He studied the sky for the slightest sign of movement, adjusting the launcher constantly so that the targeting scope was always pointed at where he was looking.

Sweat dripped down Hiccup's forehead, and his limbs trembled. The anticipation was building to a point where it was almost maddening.

Then… he spotted movement. A nearly invisible shape blotted out the stars as it wheeled on an unmistakable course towards the catapult tower.

Hiccup held his breath and didn't dare blink.

"CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

BOOM!

Thwip!

A colossal explosion of white-purple tore through the catapult tower's foundation, spreading a thick dark fog around the blast radius. Hiccup pulled the trigger purely on reflex, and the weapon fired with enough force to send him sprawling from the recoil. As the ringing in his ears faded with the explosion, he heard the slight whistle of the bolas as it flew…

…and then the distressed scream as a living thing was struck.

Hiccup jumped to his feet, frantically searching the sky for the monster that had cried out. And, after a second, he saw a gods-sent miracle – a black shape plummeting toward the distant forest at the edge of the village.

"I hit it…" he breathed, the implication of what he'd just seen dawning upon him like the rising sun. He flung his hands up and cheered with a silly grin, "YES, I hit it! Did anybody see that?!"

As if in answer, a blast of heat from behind knocked him onto his knees. Startled, Hiccup whirled around to find the worst possible witness to his accomplishment. An imposing, lion-like monster with a humanoid face shrugged its way through the smoldering remains of his bola launcher. The fire gave it an ominous orange glow, which only made its luminous blue eyes stand out all the more.

Teostra. The Emperor of Flame. Here.

"Except for you," Hiccup finished, too numb with shock to feel afraid.

The fear kicked in two seconds later, when the Teostra reared onto its hind legs and unleashed a pants-wetting yowl.

Hiccup didn't notice that his response was a very unmanly shriek. He didn't notice himself flee, at first by crawling and then by sprinting as fast as his body would allow. He didn't notice the blurry buildings he tore past in his panic. The only thing his brain told him was run, run for your life, because death was breathing down his neck.

Gobber's Smithy

Arachne heard the high-pitched shriek from all the way across the village and knew instinctively that it was Hiccup. With a gasp of horror, her hands flew up to her mouth, and she felt her heart jump into her throat. Batwings and Snaketail looked up from their duties, also recognizing the sound of their friend in distress.

The Philston girl wanted nothing more than to rush out there, into battle, and make sure that Hiccup was safe. Even after a few short minutes of knowing him, she liked him, and it would be so easy for her to grab a weapon hanging on the wall and run to his defense. But even so, she hesitated. Surely, her parents wouldn't have wanted her to face a monster to save someone she barely knew.

She caught the eyes of Batwings and Snaketail. They appeared as frightened as Arachne was. It was impossible to say whether their fear was for the life of Hiccup or for their own. But the Philston girl saw something else in them, a glimmer of some emotion that shone past the fear. Determination?

"You all thinking what I'm thinking?" Snaketail asked.

Scarcely able to breathe, Arachne nodded. Although he hesitated at first, Batwings mirrored her gesture.

"Then let's go!" Snaketail declared.

The three of them grabbed the first weapons that caught their eye and rushed out of the forge, almost bowling over one of the Vikings that had been waiting outside. Arachne heard the man yelling at them in frustration, but paid him no heed as she raced after Snaketail and Batwings. She was hyper-aware of the leather handle of the sword in her left hand. It felt strange under her fingers, as though her hands were never meant to grasp it. But Arachne tightened her grip on it regardless. She just wanted Hiccup to be alright.

Just then, there he was, coming straight at them from across the plaza. Arachne saw Hiccup hurl himself behind one of the giant torches, and stretched out her hand to grab his attention – only for her to snatch it back when a Teostra leapt into the open, in hot pursuit of its tiny prey. It opened its jaws and spewed a massive rush of flames that engulfed the torch, hiding Hiccup from view. Arachne almost screamed, but someone's hand clamped down on her shoulder and silenced her. It was Snaketail, and she was pointing something out to her. Squinting through the haze of orange-red flames, she could see Hiccup avoiding immolation by virtue of being skinny enough to hide behind the torch.

The flames burned themselves out, leaving Hiccup's hiding place thoroughly scorched. He started to peek around the side, checking if it was safe to come out. To Arachne's horror, the Teostra was stalking around the other side, rearing its head back as though about to bite him in half.

She couldn't contain herself any longer. "HICCUP!"

He whipped around to face his doom, and the Teostra lunged forward. But it never reached him, for in a blur of movement, something huge appeared from nowhere and grabbed hold of the Teostra's horn. Having been denied its chosen target, the elder dragon turned around to snarl at Hiccup's rescuer – none other than Stoick the Vast, weaponless yet crouching in a battle-ready pose.

Arachne, Snaketail, and Batwings lowered their borrowed weapons and watched in amazement as the Chief engaged an elder dragon with nothing but his bare hands. The Teostra opened its mouth to bathe him in fire, only for a pathetic orange puff to flick out of its mouth. It took a step back, as if reconsidering, and Stoick charged forward to pummel it with a well-coordinated series of kicks and punches. Enraged, the Teostra stood on its hind legs and screeched, orange powder scattering from its wings.

Whatever it was about to retaliate with, though, was never to be revealed. Four more Vikings surrounded the Teostra and hurled a weighted net over top of it, forcing it back onto all fours. The elder dragon struggled as best it could, but the Vikings threw themselves on top of it to get it to submit. One of them used his whole body to pin the Teostra's head to the ground, and other Vikings heard the commotion and gathered to help bring it down. In only a moment, Arachne could only see the tips of its wings and tail as it became buried under a mound of Vikings.

Hiccup, now safe from attack, scampered away from the torch and made a beeline for his new acquaintances. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "And, and are those Gobber's weapons? You should know, he really, ah, doesn't like it when –"

A harsh snapping sound cut Hiccup's nervous rant off. The torch, blackened by Teostra fire, was apparently no longer able to support its own weight and had chosen that moment to give out. The blackened bottom part disintegrated, the remaining twenty feet slooooooowly tipped over, and the bowl of fire at the top tumbled off. Screams rang out throughout the village as the bowl rolled away, destroying everything in its wake. A distant CRASH signaled the end of its journey, accentuated by a towering plume of smoke that filled the air above the impact site.

Arachne winced at the spectacular display.

The sounds of battle no longer reverberated through the village. As the sky lightened with the coming of dawn, flying monsters took to the skies en masse, fleeing toward the horizon with whatever food they'd managed to snatch. Amongst the flock were a trio of Yian Garugas carrying a net full of sheep between them. Vikings all over Berk lowered their weapons and watched the invaders leave, all with heavy hearts at the thought of everything they'd lost. Before long, the only monster left was the Teostra, whose struggles were starting to slow underneath the pile of Vikings restraining it.

"Put it with the others!" Stoick yelled over his shoulder. Then, without waiting for his soldiers' affirmations, he turned around and stormed toward Hiccup.

The Haddock boy gulped, loud enough for Arachne and the others to hear. As Stoick drew nearer, Arachne shivered and shrank back, and she felt the others tense. However, as far as the Chief was concerned, they weren't there at all. In his eyes, the only person that existed was Hiccup.

"There's one last thing you need to know," Hiccup muttered to them.

Stoick's shadow fell over the Haddock boy, making him look even smaller and scrawnier by comparison. He tilted his head up to timidly meet the Chief's eyes, two tiny pinpricks of rage amidst a forest of angry red facial hair. Then, he looked down at his feet and sighed…

"Sorry, Dad."

Arachne winced again. Ooh. That simple, two-word statement gave her a pang of sympathy for Hiccup so powerful that it almost knocked her over. He was in so much trouble.

Stoick said nothing in reply to his son's muttered apology, just continued to stare angrily down his nose at him. It was only when Hiccup followed up with a hasty, "Okay but I hit a Gore Magala," did he react, by grabbing Hiccup's jacket and dragging the boy off.

"I-I-It's not like the last few times, Dad!" Hiccup protested as he was towed along by the much larger Viking. "I mean, I really, actually hit it! You guys were busy, and I had a very clear shot! It went down just off Raven Point, so let's get a search party out there before –"

"STOP!" Stoick exploded. He set Hiccup down and repeated, more gently, "Just… stop."

By now, a crowd had gathered around to witness the scolding. The sky was becoming lighter as morning dawned, and the monsters had all fled the village with whatever food they'd managed to steal. Arachne caught sight of the teenagers that had been fighting the fires earlier, as well as a concerned Gobber. The rest of the villagers' faces were unfamiliar, ranging in expression from "irritated" all the way to "outraged".

"Every time you step outside, disaster follows," Stoick continued, exasperated. "Can you not see that I have bigger problems?! Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed!"

Hiccup said something under his breath, too quiet for Arachne to catch. Some of the Vikings nearby did, though, and appeared personally offended by whatever wisecrack had left Hiccup's mouth. Batwings somehow overheard it, too, judging by his sudden snort and how he turned away to hide it.

Understandably, Stoick wasn't amused. "This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" he reprimanded, and shook his head. "Why can't you follow the simplest orders…?"

"I-I can't stop myself!" Hiccup replied. "I see a monster and I have to just… kill it, you know? It's who I am, Dad."

The rage left Stoick's expression and posture, and he let out a weary sigh. "You are many things, Hiccup… but a monster killer is not one of them. Now get back to the house."

Hearing his father's quiet, resigned tone made Hiccup slump as well. Without another word of protest, he dragged his feet away from the plaza, oblivious to the stares and mutterings of disapproval that he was subjected to on his way out. His miserable posture inspired another, smaller, pang of sympathy for him in Arachne's chest.

"Gobber," Stoick barked after sending Hiccup away.

"Aye Chief!" the blacksmith replied dutifully. His voice came from right next to Arachne, making her flinch.

"Make sure Hiccup goes straight to the house – I've had enough incidents for one day," Stoick ordered him. "Once he does, I want you to gather everyone for a meeting at the Meade Hall. We need to –"

The Chief cut himself off, brow furrowing, as his eyes slid from Gobber to Arachne. A squeak came, unbidden, from her throat when she noticed that she was now under his scrutiny. At the back of her mind, she thought she heard a vague rustle from Batwings' wings, so to speak. She ignored it, however, too preoccupied with how she was pinned under the intimidating man's severe gaze.

"Gobber," Stoick started, although he never looked away from Arachne, "who are these newcomers? When did they arrive?"

The blacksmith turned to give the three of them a bewildered glance, as though he hadn't expected to see them there. "Who, them? Hiccup brought 'em to the shop during the raid. Didn't really care aboot the details so much as whether they could sharpen the swords or not."

Stoick sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, seemingly exasperated by the idea of having one more thing to worry about. He gathered his composure and approached Arachne, Snaketail, and Batwings with his hands planted on his hips, and his expression unreadable.

"As Chief of Berk, I bid you welcome to my island," he greeted them in a civil, Chiefly tone. "From the looks of you, is it safe to say that none of you are here by choice? You don't have anywhere else to go?"

Arachne shook her head in answer. Batwings and Snaketail did the same, with the latter adding a "No sir."

"Right then," Stoick said. "I'd like the three of you to come with me and tell me of your situation while I wait for Gobber to prepare the meeting. If necessary, I might consider offering you a place here on Berk, provided what you tell me is honest and you're willing to earn your keep."

For some reason, Arachne felt a weight she never even knew she had lift from her chest. She'd been so focused on the raid that she'd never even considered the possibilities of what the future held for her. Unaware of the hope swelling within her, Stoick swished his bearskin cloak and marched off, doubtlessly expecting them to follow. In her excitement, Arachne was the first to scamper after him, while Snaketail and Batwings trailed behind with more caution in their tread.

"This is better than I could've hoped for," the Grundenson girl whispered, her light tone suggesting that she shared Arachne's sentiments. "I don't even mind if monster raids are a regular thing here, as long as it means I get a new home out of it."

"Don't start counting chickens just yet – the Chief obviously needs to size us up and decide if it's safe to keep us around," Batwings countered. He plucked at his scarf, perhaps feeling nervous.

Arachne, though, was more confident than she'd ever felt since arriving on Berk. She'd long ago accepted that she no longer had a home. If it meant staying in a bustling, prosperous village such as this, then she was willing to do anything in her power to make herself worth keeping.

I promise, she swore, I'll repay Stoick – or all of Berk – in any way I can.

That's the end of the monster raid, but we're not going to get to the council meeting until after Stoick's done with the three non-Berkians. In the original story, I implied that they were just kind of accepted on Berk without much investigation – fortunately, I've wised up since then and will make their integration into Berkian society more realistic.

What else is different from canon… ah yes, a Teostra was captured. Readers of "Monsters of Berk" will probably notice that this is King, Tuffnut's future monster mount. Doesn't really make sense that there'd just happen to be an ultra-rare elder dragon already locked up and ready for Monster Training, does it? I just have to figure out a way to incorporate Queen into the story, as well…

Please send reviews! It's great to be writing a "Monsters of Berk" story again, so I always appreciate feedback!