Chapter 6

The Book of Monsters

Meade Hall, Dusk

There was no more training to be done and no forge work that day, so after returning from the woods, Hiccup spent the time up until dinner brooding in his room. When he looked up at the window and saw how dark it was, though, he slammed his sketchbook closed and hurried out. He wanted something to eat from the Meade Hall before he retired for the day.

When he got outside, he learned that it wasn't just dark, it was also raining. A steady downpour poured down from the heavens, such that when Hiccup ascended the last of the stairs and opened the gigantic doors, he was soaking and chilled to the bone.

Fortunately, once Hiccup had closed the door, the low light of torches and candles welcomed him. The warmth of the torches was a pleasant replacement for the freezing wind and rain on his skin, and his muscles relaxed on entry. The enormous chamber was largely empty, except for a few Vikings that hadn't yet gone home. Plates, mugs, and gnawed bones littered the unoccupied tables by the dozen.

The only table that wasn't unoccupied lay straight ahead of Hiccup. There crowded a gathering of familiar faces, while Gobber paraded around them, in the middle of a lecture.

"Where did Astrid go wrong in the ring today?" he challenged.

"I mistimed my somersault dive," the Hofferson girl herself answered. Hiccup's ears, by now attuned to her heavenly voice, detected no disappointment or anger in her tone. She was critiquing her own performance objectively.

"It was sloppy," she went on. "It threw off my reverse tumble."

"Yeah, we noticed," Ruff muttered. Now there was some resentment – probably from her lackluster showing in the ring.

"No no, you were great!" Snotlout toadied, full of forced positivity. "It was so… 'Astrid'."

Gobber smacked him in the head so hard that his face hit his plate. "She's right!" he told them with his usual cheer. "Ye hafta be tough on yerselves!"

While their instructor continued talking, Snaketail happened to turn her head, and ended up meeting Hiccup's eyes. Her face lit up and she scrambled out of her seat, exhibiting enough urgency to startle him into backpedaling. In seconds she was in his personal space, grinning like a maniac.

"Holy gods you're alive!" she cheered, grabbing his arm and shaking him. "You disappeared after training and none of us had any idea where you were!"

"O-Oh, um," Hiccup mumbled, taken aback by her glee. "I… I just went for a walk in the woods, you know, so it's, uh…"

"The woods, you say?"

The voice came from Batwings, who had been attracted to his side by Snaketail's outburst. He shared the Grundenson girl's open joy and relief at seeing him well, which Hiccup frankly wasn't used to. Indeed, when he glanced over their heads, he saw the other trainees leer at him and return to their food.

"We were worried about you!" Snaketail continued. "Are you doing okay? That Gravios in the arena gave you a close call."

"I'm fine," Hiccup told her with greater confidence, now that she wasn't crowding him. "Thanks for saving me there, by the way. And, um... where's Arachne?"

"Back at Astrid's house, sleeping," she replied, then smirked and puffed out her chest. "And you're welcome for the save! It was scary at the time, but looking back, wasn't it freaking awesome?"

Batwings cocked his head, quizzical. "What were you doing off in the woods by yourself?"

Worry tugged at the edge of Hiccup's mind. Was Batwings suspecting something? Maybe Hiccup was just being paranoid. But if he made something up on the spot, it'd sound suspicious. He hadn't had time to prepare an excuse for his absence; normally, he never had to bother. No-one cared where he wandered to, so long as he wasn't messing anything up.

Thankfully, Gobber had noticed him arrive at this point, and spared him the trouble of answering. To the others, he asked, "Now, where did Hiccup go wrong today?"

The Haddock boy winced. They weren't going to answer with the same constructive criticism that Gobber had praised Astrid for.

"He showed up. He didn't get eaten," the Thorston twins sneered. Their comments were joined by Snotlout's cruel snicker and a tentative chuckle from Fishlegs. Hiccup ignored them, as he always did with the verbal torment he received.

But it was Astrid's contribution to the needling that really stung. As he walked past their table with the last available chicken leg, he felt her needle-sharp gaze boring a hole in his skull. Even though he never once looked at her, she was impossible for him to ignore, and her scathing words least of all.

"He's never where he should be," she stated, the emphasis like a hammer driving a nail into a tree.

"Thank ye, Astrid," Gobber said, oblivious to her tone. Seemingly done with his lecture, he walked away, whistling.

Hiccup sat down at a nearby table, but didn't pick up his food, preferring instead to stare miserably at it. The chicken leg's seasoned, glistening skin beckoned to him, but he wasn't hungry enough to eat. Astrid's words had cut straight to his core and ruined his appetite.

The table creaked slightly as Snaketail and Batwings took the last available seats. The Grundenson girl returned to hers next to Snotlout, who scowled and slid his plate away from her. The Siren, meanwhile, ended up next to Ruffnut, which he ended up regretting immediately. She shoved her brother's face into his potatoes and cozied up beside him, her chin balanced on her hands.

"Hey, good-looking," she rasped, waggling her eyebrows. "How great was I today? Awesome, right?"

Batwings stared at her, repulsed, before leaning past her braids to where Tuffnut was extracting himself from his dinner. "Hey, uh, Boy Nut?" he cautioned. "Can you tell your sister not to get into the habit of flirting with Sirens?"

"No, I'm good," the male Thorston answered, nonchalant. "She can be your problem for a while."

Thump. Gobber tossed a medium-sized, leather-bound book onto the table, cutting off the banter. He tapped its cover for emphasis to ensure the group was listening to him.

"Ye need ta live and breathe this stuff," he announced. "This is the Book o' Monsters – everything we know aboot every monster we know of."

Hiccup glanced over at the other table and was not surprised to see that most of the teens weren't giving Gobber a lick of attention, playing with their dinner leftovers instead. Except for Batwings and Fishlegs, that is – the former was eyeing the book with interest while the latter was nodding feverishly at Gobber's words. That wasn't a surprise, either; the Ingerman boy preferred learning over fighting.

A rumble of thunder outside rolled through the floor and timbers of the Meade Hall, a subtle vibration that Hiccup felt through his feet. Gobber looked up at the ceiling, as though he could see from inside the dark clouds swirling above Berk. He began to limp off, leaving the book behind for the trainees to do with what they will.

"No attacks tonight," he grunted on his way past. "Study up."

Tuffnut, who had been attempting to balance a chicken bone on its end, looked up in confusion. "Wait, you mean read?"

"While we're still alive?" Ruff added, sounding scandalized.

Slamming his fist onto the table, Snotlout agreed, "Why read words when you can kill the stuff words tell you stuff about?"

"Knowledge is power," Batwings commented, sipping his drink.

Snaketail tsked and leaned over the table. "Is he always like this?"

"Pretty much," Astrid snorted.

"Shut up, Astrid…" the Jorgenson boy sulked.

A clawed hand reached across the table to snatch the book, bringing it over to Batwings' place. "I'm curious about this 'Book of Monsters', though," the Siren mused. "We didn't have many monsters on my home island."

"Oh, I've read it, like, seven times!" Fishlegs exploded like an underground spring, gushing with trivia. "There's this water monster that shoots lightning bolts from its back! And, and there's this other one that buries itself in –"

"Yeah, sounds great," Tuff drawled. He made a gesture for Fishlegs to stop babbling, cutting off the flow of words. "You know, there was a chance I was gonna read it…"

"But now…" Ruff said, giving the largest trainee a half-exasperated, half-bored look.

Snotlout got out of his seat and growled, "You guys read, I'll go kill stuff."

With that, he strutted out of the Meade Hall, followed by Tuffnut. Ruffnut clung to Batwings' arm and leaned in with a perverted grin, only for her brother to drag her away by the hem of her jacket. While the siblings took turns shoving and throwing curses at each other, Snaketail followed them whilst giving Hiccup a wave goodbye. He managed a bemused smile and waved back in reply.

"Hey… Fishlegs, was it?" Batwings asked, and the Ingerman boy stiffened at the sound of his name. "If you've already gone over the Book of Monsters before, could you maybe help me out with it?"

Fishlegs glanced at the Siren sitting next to him and paled ever so slightly, his shrunken pupils betraying his nerves. "O-Oh, um… M-My p-parents don't w-want me s-staying out after a c-certain hour, s-so… Y-Yep, s-see you t-tomorrow!"

He pushed away from the table, tripped over his own feet, and scurried after the others. Batwings watched him go and let out a resigned sigh loud enough for Hiccup to hear. He saw how the Siren's face darkened and felt a pang of sympathy for him. He knew a fruitless attempt to reach out and make friends better than anyone else on Berk – and for a man-eating dragon, he guessed, bosom buddies would be even harder to find.

With Fishlegs gone, that left just Batwings and Astrid, who hadn't made a move for the book. Hiccup screwed up his courage and took cautious steps over to their table, reaching out for the book as if it were a poisonous spider. Trying to keep cool, he opened his mouth and quavered, "S-So I guess that means the three of –"

"Read it," Astrid deadpanned, shoving the book away.

Based on the look Batwings was giving him, Hiccup knew that he wasn't doing a good job hiding his disappointment. But could he blame him? He'd been getting along so well with Astrid the other day, and now she couldn't be bothered to even look at him.

"Wow, all mine then!" he exclaimed, his voice sugared with false cheerfulness. "O-Okay, so I'll see you –"

BOOM. The Meade Hall doors thundered shut.

"…tomorrow," he finished.

Grimacing, Hiccup flopped into the seat across from Batwings, shame flooding him like a broken dam. Astrid's cutting words came back to him at the forefront of the river of embarrassment.

"He's never where he should be."

Astrid had been right, and not just about today's exercise. What was he doing in monster training? He didn't belong there. He knew it, they knew it – even Snaketail knew it. She'd been ready to call Gobber out for putting him in danger and had risked her own life to save his. He was a minnow trying to keep up with a school of Sharqs. No wonder Astrid was so mad at him.

"Tonight's been one failure after another for us, huh?" Batwings chuckled. "I can't get people to trust me and you can't impress Astrid."

Hiccup grunted at his friend's teasing and said nothing more, at least until inspiration turned his gloomy face into a wry grin. He replied slyly, "I dunno, Ruffnut seems pretty interested in trusting you."

"Hilarious," Batwings replied with a shudder. He gave a lengthy yawn, then added, "I'll have to check out that book another time. I'm bushed. See you back at the house?"

Hiccup answered with a distracted little wave, already giving the Book of Monsters a contemplative stare. A thought had just occurred to him, one that piqued a curiosity that was already chasing away his previous despair. And it was never going to go away – not as long as that Gore Magala was present on Berk.

I can't kill it, he thought. So if it's going to be there for a while… maybe I could study it?

He looked around the hall. All the Vikings that had been present before were now gone, and they must have doused the torches on their way out, because now the Meade Hall was a dark cavern. Hiccup's candle was a tiny island of light in an ocean of pitch black, so thick that he couldn't see the doors any longer. Outside, more thunder reverberated, echoing ominously through the vast black void, and Hiccup shuddered. To distract himself from the lonely darkness, he sat down at the table properly and concentrated on his island. He leaned forward and pulled the Book of Monsters into the light.

Running a hand over the leathery cover, Hiccup pried it open to the first page, which was covered in a smattering of Norse letters. "Monster classifications," he read aloud. "Strike class… Fear class… Mystery class…"

Not satisfied with just a list, he turned the page. Spread out before him was a detailed sketch of a large, shark-like wyvern with a saw-shaped snout. All around the monster were arrows, notes, and smaller sketches depicting habitats, close-ups of body parts, and graphic displays of how it hunted.

"Anorupatisu," Hiccup murmured, keeping his voice low so that it didn't echo as much. "This aquatic flying wyvern lives in cold northern seas. When hunting, it uses its horn to cut through ice floes and ambush prey from below. Extremely dangerous, kill on sight."

Something about the information on this page didn't sit well with him, so he flipped ahead. The next page was organized just like the first, except the monster shown was a pale, flat creature with what appeared to be one head on each end of its body. "Gigginox," he read. "This unusual wyvern's tail looks exactly like its head, and it uses both to spew poisonous gas. Extremely dangerous, kill on sight."

He shook his head and this time skipped several pages, arriving at the image of a serpentine crocodile-esque leviathan. He skimmed the information, muttering, "Lagiacrus. Discharges large amounts of electricity at its victims. Extremely dangerous – GAH!"

KRA-KOOOOOOOOOM! The most violent thunderclap yet crashed through Hiccup's ears, accompanied by a lightning strike that flashed through the Meade Hall doors, illuminating the empty chamber with harsh lines of blue.

The storm settled, leaving the harsh pounding of rain to fill Hiccup's ears again. Soothed by the steady sound, he calmed his beating heart and went back to the book. He didn't read the rest of the Lagiacrus page, instead starting anew at a grotesque fish monster. Several separate diagrams highlighted its bulbous lantern, lengthy whiskers, and inflatable body.

"Gobul," Hiccup recited, eyeing the chimaera of fish-like characteristics. "Even newly-hatched, these leviathans wield venomous spines. Kill on sight."

He turned several more pages with urgency borne from dissatisfaction and frustration. Some inexplicable quality of this book bothered him to no end, and with every blurb his eyes scanned, his frustration grew.

Gravios. Plesioth. The Alatreon. Silver Rathalos. Kushala Daora.

Burns its victims. Buries its victims. Constricts its victims. Rips its victims limb from limb.

The names of the monsters and details of their abilities started to blur together. The sketches started to move before Hiccup's very eyes. Claws and teeth seemed to reach for him. And, repeated in every single entry without fail, the same grim warning stood out to him.

Extremely dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

Kill on sight. Kill on sight. Kill on sight.

He knew he was searching for something. What it was, he had no clue whatsoever. But he was starting to realize that the Book of Monsters didn't have it. Pages and pages of detailed sketches, the culmination of three hundred years of Viking research, and this was all anyone had bothered to record. Where monsters were most likely to attack. What to watch out for. How to kill them.

At last, Hiccup reached the final page, and blank space gaped back at him. The parchment was totally unmarked, except for the barest scrawling of Norse words at the top and bottom of each page. He drew the book closer to him and pored over the vague, sinister message on display.

"Gore Magala," he breathed. "Size unknown. Speed unknown. The unholy offspring of pestilence and plague itself. Never engage this monster. Your only chance; hide and pray its fog doesn't reach you."

Hiccup's hand crept beneath his jacket and grasped the spine of his notebook, still tucked away inside. He pulled it out and, placing it on top of the Book of Monsters, opened it to the most recent sketch. Now, over top of the book's incomplete entry, the Gore Magala's wings spread for the first time. It was the only significant information about this monster to be discovered in three centuries – and it was Hiccup who had done it. At such a thought, he felt an excited thrill course through him.

And so, he made himself a new promise. He was no longer out to kill the Gore Magala. He was going to discover everything.

Helheim's Gate, Morning

A full day's journey from Berk, a trio of Viking longships sailed resolutely past a sight that would live in every warrior's waking nightmares. To the northwest of their island lay Helheim's Gate, a region of perpetual fog that, over the centuries, they had learned was the monsters' nest. Repeated attempts to infiltrate had revealed that the fog hid a maze-like series of sea stacks that had claimed many a ship… but not as many as the monsters that defended their territory without mercy.

The sight of the enormous fog bank that stretched across the horizon, with the tallest sea stacks barely tall enough to poke their tops out, was enough to make even Stoick the Vast feel a foreboding prickle travel up his spine. He paid it no heed. He'd been on more expeditions to this cursed place and knew better of its dangers than anyone else. Whether he feared it or not, it wouldn't stop him.

"I can almost smell them," he murmured. "They're close."

Stoick's eyes flicked from the Gate to his map, and back again. He had to judge the distance correctly; if he entered the fog recklessly, he'd doom his ships for certain. He waited until it looked like they were in just the right spot… there!

For Valka.

"Take us in," the Chief commanded.

The helmsman responded by banking hard to port, and Stoick's ship cruised into Helheim's Gate. The fog swallowed them, like insects vanishing down a titanic throat, and in an instant, everything was silent. No more salty sea breeze, no more lapping waves, no more seabirds calling in the distance. The fog devoured all sound as surely as it had them.

The silence is always the most unnerving, Stoick confessed to himself, vehement. We know there are monsters here, but can never see or hear them… and I cannot shake the feeling that something else –

Fireballs came sizzling out of the cloud to set them ablaze, and cries of shock went up from the soldiers. It hadn't even been ten seconds, yet already, the monsters were upon them.

Odin help us all, Stoick prayed, even as he unclipped his Switch Axe and began swinging.

Throughout the series, Ruffnut's clearly shown that she's attracted to physical appearances first and foremost. Can't have her ignore Batwings. Gotta stay true to the characters, after all.

Speaking of character – Astrid and Hiccup. In the deleted scene I included, she's perfectly willing to converse with Hiccup, and yet in all subsequent interactions, she's cold and almost hostile. I took my best guess as to the reasoning behind her change of attitude.

The Book of Dragons scene was one of my favorites in the movie the first time I watched, just because I loved all of the creative dragon designs. Rewatching it, I get the sense that Hiccup went to the Book looking for answers, and was frustrated that all he found was advice on how to kill them. The blank Night Fury page inspired him to add his own notes to the Book by studying, rather than killing, Toothless.

In this continuity, I used the opportunity to give Gigginox a much-needed shout-out, because she's a precious girl that hasn't been in a Monster Hunter game for years. Not even Stories.

Sorry for the long AN; I just have a lot to say for this chapter, haha! Please review, and please give feedback if you have it!