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Astrid stood on the cliffs of Berk at sunset. She stared off toward the east, the same direction someone else had flown off into the wild over a year and a half ago.

Her blue scale cape, the traditional bearskin cape forgone in favor of something more fitting, flowed behind her in the evening wind.

A free hand went to her hip and patted her custom blade, a gift from Gobber to celebrate her ascension to the role of Chief. She was the first woman that Berk ever had as Chief. That had needed some sorting out at first, what with a few men who still had some very old ways of thinking and could not quite take orders from a woman.

Her method of handling such discontents was quite simple. Single combat, no holds barred, nothing off-limits, any weapon goes, first blood drawn.

No one had any objections now.

Well, almost no one.

To always be at the beck and call of everyone in the village, to have to resolve the most inane of disputes, to need to entreat with delegates from the allied tribes whenever said delegates showed up... it was so tiring.

Not to mention all the peacekeeping with dragons here on Berk. Ruff, Lout, and Legs, it was hard for her to think of them any other way, were very helpful in mediating the remaining incidents that still happened, mostly with younger fledglings who did not quite know how to behave.

Gods... even Gobber was a full dragon rider now. A prior flight of exploration had found the Boneknapper's lair. Gobber had demanded to be taken there immediately to settle an old score. No one knew exactly what that meant at first. He had gotten there, had a shouting match with a dragon that had no roar, and shared a specific bone with said Boneknapper. The Boneknapper then regained its roar once it got back that bone. No one knew how that happened.

How Gobber knew that the bone he had with him was what the Boneknapper had been looking for all these years... no one knew that either.

At least the dragon's name, Jingles, made some sense when considering the type of dragon in question.

Astrid then deeply sighed, turned away from the horizon, and beheld Berk in all its glory. The spinning colors on the wing, the feeding and grooming stations, and the large stables and perches were the most prominent aspects of the island.

Berk was becoming a dragon-human utopia, a voice of peace.

She paused, and her gaze went back to the horizon again. There were so many voices and cries echoing from behind her.

"How long now?"

She gave a great sigh and sat down at the top of the cliff.

"What would you do? You and your cheeky grin. I wonder what you would look like now, you would be what, twenty?"

Chuckle.

"Probably being pestered by your father to take Chiefing lessons. You would probably be trying to map the world just to get away from here."

She picked up a handful of grass and started dropping the blades one at a time.

"You know that we have stubbornness issues."

Drop.

"But we always do what we must."

Drop.

"They surely know that we are here."

Drop.

"How, how do we fight that?"

Drop.

"I guess it is ironic in a way."

Drop.

"The others were so afraid of us making a dragon army."

Drop.

"The Vaina have already fled."

Drop.

"The Outcasts are at sea with their ships."

Drop.

"The Volsung are getting ready to leave."

Drop.

"There are too many of us to stay in one place for long."

Drop.

"Stay and fight or run and hide?"

Drop.

"We've never cared for running and hiding."

Drop.

"Not even against the Berserkers."

Drop.

"But against an army of dragons?"

Drop.

Sigh.

"Who are we?"

The last blade of grass fell off the cliff as she stared toward the horizon.

The entire tribe gathered before her in the Great Hall at the special summons. Ale, bread, and cheeses were handed out freely.

There was a clear pall hanging over everyone now, though they tried to hide it behind the usual jokes and contests at the tables.

Word had clearly spread. The messengers from the other tribes had not been the most discrete about keeping the secret.

Oh well, no turning back.

She nodded to Gobber and then stood up while he rang the bell to get everyone's attention.

All contests, whispers, and conversations died away as all eyes found her.

Chiefs had many different styles, Gobber had explained to her. Stoick had liked to joke or start out with some salute and recognition of their shared past as a people. The latter definitely would not fit her purpose here. The former was something she definitely did not feel in the mood for, nor did it fit her personal style.

These were Nords, not exactly the sharpest tools in the shed. Sometimes the best approach was the simplest and most direct. Actually, whichever method required the least complex thought was the best.

"There is an army of dragons out there."

Shocked silence.

"Commanded by a warlord, Drago Bloodfist or something like that."

"Bloodfist..." "Scary..." "Good name..." "Heh, sounds like dragon..."

"They will be here in a few days!"

"So let's fight them!" "I'll get me ax!" "Ya, idiot!" "But this is Berk!" "It's our home!" "What do we do?"

"Silence!" Gobber rang the bell again.

She stepped away from the Chief's table and walked over to the central fireplace. Her eyes met those of dozens of her fellow tribe; men, women, and children all.

"We could stay and fight, yes! But this is a new kind of enemy! Dozens of ships and hundreds of dragons, that is what we would fight!" she shouted.

The defiant looks in everyone's eyes seemed to wither at that. She held out her arms wide as if to embrace the whole tribe at once.

"Is Berk our home?" she asked them.

Even the... slowest... of the tribe were able to confidently nod their answer to her.

"Why?"

There was a bit of head-scratching at that. Many people turned to their neighbor or a spouse to ask something.

"Uh, because we've always been here!" someone in the back shouted.

"Yeah." "Sure." "Seems true." "Home of our grandparents." "It's ours."

She nodded.

"Yes, we've always been here. What if we had always lived on another island? Wouldn't that be our home?"

More nods.

"So it is not the place that makes it home, right?"

This was a bit of a stretch. It involved the first major leap in thinking and required some skills of thought that not all may possess. So she thought it would be a good idea to explain.

"It is not the place! It is us! It is your neighbor! It is everyone who rides the waves of life with you! We could be anywhere and still be home as long as we are all together!"

The nodding grew gradually stronger as she spoke.

"How long have we been here? Longer than any of us know! It will not be easy, but I know you can do it!"

"Yeah!" "Do I have do file my ax-returns?" "No problem!" "Going on vacation!" "Hit the seas!" "What are we waiting for?"

"We all have to disappear completely off the map!" she shouted.

More nodding all around. People started standing up in agreement.

"And when Drago gets here to Berk what will he find? Nothing! We will leave nothing for him!"

Many men and women gave a single fingered salute to the far warlord.

"We will find somewhere else to live! A New Berk where we and our dragons can live in peace! No more armies and armadas!"

Cheering and raised fists went throughout the whole audience.

She strode over to the Chief's table, her azure cape swaying and glistening behind her in the firelight, and picked up a filled mug. She held the mug high in a clear signal to all.

Everyone else followed her lead.

"Wherever we go! Whatever we face! We will face it together!"

The empty mug was slammed on the table a few moments later. Clangs of empty mugs went all around the Great Hall as all reaffirmed their bonds of loyalty to the tribe.

She spared a glance over at Gobber. He merely grinned and nodded at her.

Not that bad. They actually look pleased to be leaving Berk.

She barely restrained the chuckle.

We sailed here generations ago never planning to sail away. We will not. We will fly away.

Even though she knew it had to be done, nothing could prepare her for actually seeing it.

A full day of preparation had followed the gathering in the Hall and the resolution. She knew where they were going, as did the three representatives of the other allied tribes, who had just flown off with their dragons. Everyone from Berk loaded their dragons with whatever could be taken as supplies. Everything else of value had been hidden so thoroughly that only Ragnarok itself might uncover the caches.

Then it had come time to finally do the last deed. It could almost be seen as something symbolic, but it was primarily to spite Drago. Leaving nothing behind for his army was essential.

No supplies. No food. No shelter.

The last thing that they all did at sunset before departing was take a torch to almost every building on Berk. She spared the Haddock house.

The dragons must have been very confused by all this, especially after having much experience with putting out fires. Then their humans start intentionally setting everything on fire? Confusing indeed.

Stormfly shifted under her while gliding smoothly in the darkness near the clouds. Everything was so peaceful, almost like another night flight that she had once been on.

The orange glow of the fires, most especially from the Great Hall itself, illuminated the entire forest all the way up to Mount Thor itself.

It was as though the sky had fallen down and brought the sun with it.

Was it raining? Why were her cheeks moist?

A Chief does not cry or show emotion other than rage.

At least, not when anyone else can see.

So now was fine.

"Come on girl, let's go."

She gently patted Stormfly on the neck, and the dear Nadder turned for the rest of the distant flight far out over the water. It was a storm of wings as everyone on Berk, man and woman, young and old, weak and strong, were now flying on dragonback.

Astrid held her head high as she and Stormfly passed by the others and found the head of the flight where they belonged.

She never looked back.

Author's Note – A few reviewers asked if we would get any Berk perspectives back during volume II. This was a moment that I always knew had to be depicted. The decision to leave behind Berk is not only a practical one. It is also a symbolic one, as it represents a departure from the way of life that the Hooligans have lived for generations. In this willingness to leave behind their old island that is 'the home of their grandparents and their grandparents before them', they are declaring to the world that their identity has changed. They are not merely stubborn Vikings anymore.