I apologize for the wait, everyone! School has been heavy on my shoulders recently, and I've been doing what I can to get this chapter done. Also, apologies if there are any grammar mistakes! What is certain though, is that this chapter will be the chapter that will turn things around!
Also, a thank you to BrawlerGamer, KaliAnn, and zZCoalPawZz for the reviews last chapter!
Now, no more wait. Let us continue the story!
The drums banged loudly throughout the early morning hours within the Arena. Daylight had still not come out, and Hiccup stood there with an iron sword in his left hand and a shield in his right.
Although he could use his weapon in both of his hands without much problem, he preferred using his left most of the time since with his right he was most comfortable with using a shield whenever he was wielding one.
As he looked through the portcullis gates, he felt a slight feeling of tension of nervousness course through his arms and legs, and yet he refused to give in. The only reason being was that it was because of Astrid who was standing right next to him to comfort him with words in case he began to doubt.
He then asked her, "Are you sure about this?" as he turned his head to face her.
Astrid nodded, landing her left hand on his right shoulder. "Remember that Mildew is just an old man." she stated. "His hits and blows may be rough, but his skill is somewhat lacking. You have the upper hand in this case with better swordsmanship, as well as a true sense of fighting. Not even I would be able best you in a spar."
Hiccup responded with a small smile as once again the thought of her words comforted him, thus he still didn't feel alone. And even though with the thought of fighting Mildew was mainly on his mind, another part still lingered from earlier before Stoick had let him out.
…
2 hours earlier...
Hiccup looked out the window of the Chief's hut, staring at the dozens of villagers that were making their way towards the Arena. Their torches' flames lit up a path of gold, and the amount of people he had to fight in front of felt strange to him on it's own. He never fought in front of others before, only get beaten in front of them by those stronger.
Thus, this to him was like a path of redemption, to show that he won't be wobbling on the ground whilst his opponent beats him to the pulp.
As he looked around the corner, Hiccup saw Stoick walk in with an iron blade in hand. He spun his whole body around to face the Chieftain, and then he stood up on his feet.
"It's probably going to be a bloodbath once you go in there." he said to Hiccup. "I asked Gobber to forge you the finest sword he could, and as light he could make it, though I'm afraid it may be heavier for you."
The scrawny Viking walked over to Stoick who was reaching the hilt of the sword out to Hiccup, and as he grabbed it he could feel a heavy weight difference. He was right when he meant it was heavier.
Hiccup gave a slight grin. "It will do." he assured.
Stoick replied, "Then I guess you know what to do." He then gestured his head towards the outside window, towards the Arena. "It's best that you go. They'll be waiting for you."
The young Viking gave a sigh as walked past Stoick, proceeding to make his way out of the room and downstairs before going out. But as he walked out the door of his room, he stopped in his steps and turned around.
"What is it?" asked Stoick as he raised one of his brows.
At first, Hiccup hesitated to speak in saying what he wanted to say to the Chieftain as he was unsure. But then, the words soon began to form as he knew that there would be no better time to ask Stoick, and finally they came out of his mouth.
"...In that small wooden box on the table." he began. "There are two important items in there. One of them is a map, the other is a blanket…"
He stopped short of his sentence, looking down to the wooden floor and then back at Stoick.
"I'd like to ask that you take a look at the blanket which was once wrapped around me when I was but an infant. I'm sure you'll be able to find my parents before I die."
The young Viking then bowed his head at Stoick before he made his way down.
Stoick wasn't sure of what to say, but he did as Hiccup asked of him, obviously as a favor. He turned his attention onto the small wooden crate, calmly walking over to it as he covered over the top of it which was already opened. The two items he saw were definitely in there, but the blanket definitely caught his attention.
He slowly reached his hand over to it and lightly picked it up out of the box before laying it on the palms of his hands… and it was then that his face gave off an expression of confusion, but also a troubling look.
Memories soon began to pop back to him like a lightning bolt, and his brows slowly rose as he gasped. Something about the making of the blanket and name on the front of it struck him, though the name was obviously labeled 'Hiccup.'
"S-Strange." Stoick stuttered. "Why does this name seem so familiar? Why is the making of it seem familiar as well? Why does it...?"
Then a jolt of his thought soon struck him. A flash from the past overtook his mind and his eyes widened. Two names began to echo in his head, and his past memories soon started to come back to him in an instant as if water was flooding the hut.
The name of his lost and dead wife 'Valka' beamed out at him like the light of a bonfire would catch his attention. But another also echoed, though he was not sure.
His eyes immediately dropped back down towards the blanket and he started running his hands all over it, in hopes to find what he was looking for…
…and eventually he did.
On the other side of the blanket, underneath the furs, he felt parts of the fabric stick out to his hand almost like they were the letters of a word. He then grabbed both ends of the blanket and spread it out widely, and before him a word was revealed and he gasped.
His shock caused him to nearly drop the soft fabric to the floor, but he immediately caught it as it fell, and he stared at it with empty eyes of sorrow and relief. He felt his eyes get wet, and slowly but surely a tear fell from his eye, and then another, and then two.
"Hiccup…" he sighed, his voice shaking as he placed his forehead against the blanket. "My- my..."
…
"It seems there's no time left." said Astrid. "The drums have begun to catch in rhythm, so I'd suggest you be ready. Those gates could open any minute."
"And when they do, I'll be ready." he replied, gripping the hilt of his blade tight. "I am eager to meet and fight Mildew in combat once we come face to face."
He rose his head high towards the gate that laid lowered before him. He spun his head and neck in a circle as the sound of bones cracked like knuckles. "I am ready." he announced. "Raise the portcullis!"
The gate immediately rose and the way was opened. Hiccup exhaled a heavy amount of his breath quickly, lowering his brow as he made his way into the circle of the Arena. As he walked in, he raised his weapon, still focusing on Mildew who stood on the other side of the Arena circle with a large Iron mace and shield, and all around the crowds of villagers cheered.
"Did he say iron sword, or mace?" he asked himself. "I knew that old man would lie. But, it's his rule. So regardless, I will beat him one way or another."
Mildew stepped forward with a smile on his face. Though he was a skinny old man, it seemed to Hiccup that the leather armor his combatant wore made him look more buff and less of a cripple. Mildew was going to be no push-over.
"'Iccup." he began. "Do ye like me new weapon? I made sure tha' it came out lighter, an' guess wut? It's gunna be covered in yer blood afterwerds."
The young man's eyes squinted. "We'll see, Mildew. I've been trained in my swordsmanship for many years by Magnus in secret - and, though it wasn't much, it was still worth it in the end… I am ready to slice you into bits."
Mildew smirked. "We'll see."
The two soon started to circle each, their gazes diverted on each other and their weapons thirsty for battle. The crowds had gone silent and faced the two with suspenseful stares. Astrid looked at Hiccup from behind the portcullis, her hands squeezing against the iron bars waiting for the fight to begin.
And eventually it did.
The horn's sounding blew across the Arena, and Hiccup and Mildew charged each other with their weapons raised, with Hiccup making the first strike as he dropped and slid past Mildew's legs, making a slice at the old man's left ankle.
The iron blade struck, and immediately part of the leather armor on Mildew's left leg came flying off which left the older Viking vulnerable at the ankle.
In anger, Mildew spun himself around towards Hiccup after missing, lifting the heavy mace over his head as he rushed towards Hiccup in an attempt to bring it straight down on him with brutal force.
Hiccup however was smarter than this. He knew bringing all strength to bear against superior skill would not be enough for Mildew. So, as the mace came down he easily rolled around Mildew, this time aiming for the right leg with leather armor, and with a successful strike that too came off. Both of his legs were now vulnerable.
As Hiccup looked back at Mildew, the old man struggled to pull the mace out of the ground which was now embedded. "C'mon ye stuped-" he grumbled, pulling at the handle of his weapon.
The scrawny Viking laughed at Mildew. "Seriously?" he asked. "I'm more scrawny than you, old man, and I can pull that weapon out." His tone was now taunting.
Mildew grunted, and immediately his anger went over the top. "EHHH YE SON OF A-!"
The mace came flying up in his hands as he pulled it out with the strength he had, and with rage he rushed Hiccup - which to the scrawny Viking was surprising considering that he was an old man.
Mildew then started slicing his mace up and down in the air at Hiccup, as well as side to side, and diagonally, each swiping blow at a fast and quick speed as if Mildew was in a bloodlust.
He dodged and blocked as many blows as he could, but eventually even he was corned into a wall, and Mildew stood before him with his brows lowered and his eyes thirsty for blood. The posture of which he held his mace slightly intimidated Hiccup.
"I'v got ye now, 'Iccup!" he laughed crazily, and he charged the young Viking with his mace raised.
Hiccup's eyes widely breathed intensely on the sight of the somewhat large mace coming his way. He made a quick act and sweep his legs across at Mildew's ankles, and the older Viking was easily handle as he fell to the ground on his back.
The scrawny Viking ran over to him, placing his foot on the old man's chest as he pointed his blade at his throat. All the meanwhile, the crowds of villagers around outside the Arena cheered for Hiccup's performance.
"Surrender." Hiccup demanded. "Or I'll cut your throat here and now."
"N...nu!" spat Mildew. "Bodyguard! GET 'IM!"
Suddenly, two large Vikings from the crowds dropped down into the Arena with swords and shields in their hands, and quickly they both rushed at Hiccup with blood-curdling cries in the roars. The villagers gasped.
Hiccup noticed and immediately jumped off Mildew as he ran to take a defensive position. Although Mildew was free of his grasp, the bodyguards were still his main priority, and they would not get in his way.
The two men circled Hiccup with evil smirks on their faces. He could smell their stench from where he stood, and by the gods it was disgusting.
"Time to die, little whelp." the first bodyguard chuckled, and without wasting any time he lunged at Hiccup with his sword raised and ready to slice down the scrawny Viking.
Hiccup however had no time to waste either, and so he would give his all against the large bodyguards. He raised his shield at the strike that came from the first bodyguard, and as the blade hit his shield Hiccup noticed that the man's lower body was exposed due to his height. With this in mind; he crouched himself down and stabbed the Viking in the left leg, causing him to jerk back in pain.
The crowd above soon cheered once again as Hiccup then took the advantage to plunge his iron blade deep into the man's chest, and just like that he fell over with blood coming out of his wound. "Not even wearing proper armor." he said. "Shame."
Then, the second bodyguard immediately struck - thinking that Hiccup was occupied on the dead corpse of his fallen comrade loyalist, but Hiccup was quick enough to see the strike coming and he dodged it just in time before he raised his sword up into the air and swiftly brought it down upon the man's hand, cutting it into two from the wrist.
The bodyguard soon screamed in pain and shock as he eyed his hand fallen to the ground as he too fell to the ground on his knees. Hiccup then made a quick effort and raised his sword once again before he decapitated the bodyguard with a heavy blow, with his head flying half a yard in the air.
Hiccup looked up at the loyalist crowd that stood on the other side of the Arena. "IS THERE NO LOYALIST THAT CAN KILL ME!?" he bellowed, spreading his arms out in a taunting manner. "IS THERE NO MAN THAT CAN-"
It was then he felt a large impact hit his back, and he felt bolts of pain tear at him with a wave of heat following over it. Mildew struck with a hard hit at Hiccup, and the scrawny Viking fell down towards the ground, but not before turning to land on his back.
He looked up at the old man who held the mace in both of his hands, grasping the weapon tightly. He squinted his eyes at the younger Viking with his head shaking, and he felt a tingle of laughter surge through him as he eventually began to laugh at him.
"Any las' wurds b'fore I end ye, 'Iccup?" he asked.
Hiccup by this point knew now that there was no escape. He was held down with Mildew placing a foot on his chest tightly and firm. Though he was an old man, he still had strength in his legs and fists. However, it was then that Hiccup felt himself go weak, and his vision started to blur all around as blackness began to roll in on him. He couldn't give in now. He wouldn't. And so, with one final act against Mildew, Hiccup nodded and opened his mouth as he said;
"This."
He then swiped his blade upwards as strong as he could and as swiftly as his strength could allow him, hoping that he would find his target - and surprisingly he did. Mildew jumped back in pain as he held his left hand onto what remained of his right hand. Three of his fingers had been completely sliced off by Hiccup, and the shepherd was bleeding heavily as he fell onto his knees.
For Hiccup, his vision turned black as his eyes closed and his skin went slightly pale, rendering him unconscious, but not dead.
"No…" gasped Astrid. "HICCUP! No! ...Wake up, Hiccup! WAKE UP!" She screamed loudly, trying to get the young Viking up even though she was unaware of his state, and she felt her feelings go downhill. However, things for Mildew would begin to go downhill as well as the loyalists above him looked at him with disgust and realization.
"...He's a fraud!" one of them called out.
"I thought he could see visions!" another mocked. "Since when did he mention himself getting most of his damned hand chopped off!?"
"You're a liar Mildew!"
"Look who's the traitor now!?"
"Stoick was right about you!"
Mildew shook his head, backing up as he cowered in fear from his own loyalists turning against him. Now there was no way out for him, and it seemed now that the loser of the match was clear to everyone. Hiccup had fought alone honorably with skill and courage by his side along with strength and intelligence, whilst Mildew dishonorably attempted to hide behind his own men in hopes that he'd easily win. The scales had now started to turn.
From behind, the portcullis of the Arena raised up, and from it came Stoick who marched through the gate with his axe in hand, and his fists clenched tightly. Two guards stood by his side, each armed with spear and shield.
"Whu- Stoick, I didn't knuw tha'-"
"Shut your mouth, old man!" he shouted before grabbing him roughly by the shoulder and pointing his axe against his throat. "If you so dare touch Hiccup again, I will CUT your head off from your shoulders!"
He then angrily shoved the shepherd to the ground, gesturing his guards to proceed to pick up the wounded traitor and carry him out of the Arena. "Mildew, I am arresting you for high treason against Berk, and your death sentence will be decided and carried out by the executor of whom I will choose to have. Your land and property will be taken from you and your loyalists will no longer be able to aid you, now that they see who you truly are."
"GAHH!" Mildew screamed. "I'LL GET YE SUMDAY FER THIS, STOICK! IN THA NEXT LIFE, I'LL FIND YE AN' KILL YE! NO MATTER WHERE YE GO…"
His voice echoed as he was dragged out of the Arena by the guards, and as he was out of sight Stoick's gaze immediately fell upon Hiccup who laid limp in the center of the Arena.
The Chieftain ran over to the unconscious young Viking, dropping his horned helmet in the process as he leaned his ear against the lad's mouth to hear for some breathing, to hear for something in hopes that he was alive. He pressed lightly down against Hiccup's chest with his hands, and as he listened…
He heard a small exhalation of air hit his ear drum.
"Hiccup - he's alive…!" he gasped, hugging him. "My son is alive!"