Spending seven hours straight of repairing houses isn't really fun, but it's about time I do something more than just 'destroy' the houses. It's not like I meant to cause more damage from the raid, but can you really blame me? A huge dragon, one of the feared dragons on Berk, chasing you. My father would probably want a dragon to kill me already. He's never said anything positive in years, and there's a feeling that tells me this year will be different. I just hope it's a good difference.
All day I haven't seen anyone. It's sort of creeping me out now. The village seems so dead without the stubborn Vikings walking down the streets of Berk. I'll just check it out later. And that reminds me I need to speak to Gobber. I finished the last house and started walking to the forge. My tools usually stay at the forge, but a week ago I got sick so I had to stay inside, and Gobber brought me my tools and some wood to carve or build with. He insisted to take care of me since my dad never does and he knows it. He even tried to speak with him, but like the other thousand times, he wouldn't listen. And I can tell it hurt Gobber that his best pal didn't want to listen to him.
Daydreaming, I bump into Gobber on my way to the forge,
"Hey, Gobber. Can I, uhm, ask you something?" I asked, finding the ground pretty interesting. "Sure, lad. Anything," He simply answered, motioning for me to follow him to the forge.
"I was just wondering about my mother, I just want to know what happened," I said, feeling my eyes watering. Every time someone mentions my mother, sadness strikes me like a lightning bolt to the head. He gave a loud sigh as I sat down on top of a table, watching him doing something to his hook hand.
"I know you want to, and why. Your dad doesn't hate you, you know. He's just stressed and sad after what happened to her, and ever since that night he promised that nothing would happen to any other villagers. He's just trying so hard to keep everyone safe." He started, but I cut him off.
"I know, but please. I need to know this. I need to know if it really is my fault. If it's not I can finally have something to defend myself with if he ever decide to throw me in that cell again just to starve me and yell at me." He nodded in agreement. He's been like a father to me; I prefer calling him dad instead of my own. When I was little I used to call him dad, but now it just seems rather awkward. Whenever my dad threw me in the cell, Gobber would find a way of getting me out of there as soon as possible. It was either talking him into it or give me the keys whenever he had them, but when he didn't he gave me my mother's dagger that was meant for me and taught me how to pick a lock. At least now I'm prepared if someone decides to kidnap Vikings from Berk.
"Alright, lad. But I warned ye, it's not a pretty story. It was one of the raids in the middle of winter where your father somehow convinced your mother to defend Berk with him and leave you behind. But she never went far. She decided that whatever happens she would defend you, and your father, just as he promised her. But something was different, something that made her different from the other women Vikings at Berk."
Stoick convinced Valka to defend Berk with him instead of staying inside, hiding from the vicious beasts outside. But Valka on the other hand, thought something different. Somehow she had found a way to believe that the dragons meant no harm, but everyone thought she was insane and ignored her thoughts. She never killed a dragon like the other Vikings had. At that time every Viking had killed a dragon instead of her. Once she faced a Gronkle, but refused to kill it as she saw something that made her thoughts come more and more true. She saw that the dragon only wanted to defend its children, but a Viking approached them and sliced the dragons head clean off from its shoulder, leaving the baby dragons alone and ignored. Somehow Valka managed to stop the Viking from harming the baby dragons by yelling out the only sentence as every time under a raid.
"Stop it! You're only making it worse!" She yelled out, stopping every Viking she possible could, but this lost her focus on her own house.
Something caught her attention as she continued, stopping the Vikings from doing more harm. A baby cry. She ran back to her house, finding a huge hole in the roof and a large tail hanging down the side of the house. Going back and forth as in comfort. Panicked, she ran inside with her family hatchet, finding her son playing around with a dragon. This was what she had believed in for so long. If only the village could see everything from her eyes, it would have been better. For everyone. She dropped the hatchet to the ground, making the dragon snap out of its focus and on to her. Everything went so fast and the dragon snatched Hiccup out of his cradle and into its large claws.
"Hiccup!" She yelled, running after the dragon that was carrying her baby. The dragon flew out of the house, and on to the streets, knocking every Viking out of its way. Valka never stopped chasing it, and when it was about to fly away, by the end of a cliff. A loud war cry could be heard from behind her. Stoick had seen the dragon, running away with his only son and he felt anger rush down his spine. He ran towards the dragon, throwing his axe to it, but only to see it flinch. The dragon dropped Hiccup to the ground, accidently cutting the small child's chin, and snatched the woman standing in front of it.
"Valka! No!" Stoick yelled, running to the end of the cliff only to watch as the woman of his life was taken away from his life. He couldn't do anything, but listen to the cries coming from his wife. Standing there, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Immediately he knew who it was. Days went by and he never stopped coming there to say his last goodbye to his Valhallarama.
"Ever since that night he promised to avenge her death by killing every dragon in sight. We never saw the lovely chief again," Gobber explained, putting a hammer in his hand. I held a finger on my chin where the scar is. I've always wondered how I got it, and now I know, but the story isn't exactly something to be proud of. So it is my fault that my mom is dead. Gobber was about to speak up again, but before he could I ran out, tears rolling uncontrollably down my cheeks. Not seeing where I go, I bump into someone.
"Hey watch where you're…, oh look who we have here, are you going to run back to your mommy? Oh wait, I forgot, she's dead," Snotlout said, I felt an urge of kicking him, but decided not to. He was about to knock me over when Astrid stepped in front of me, knocking him over. I felt a large hand behind me, helping me off the ground. I look back to see Fishlegs supporting me. Maybe they finally realized what morons they've been. Astrid looked back at me, but I walked away, not wanting to have a conversation with anyone. I find myself by the end of the cliff that my mother was taken from me.
"I love you, mom," I said, burying my head in my knees, sobbing in the quiet night alone. Under the moonlight, feeling safer as the moon is watching over me with its small army of shining stars.
I woke up as the sun shone above the ocean, remembering last night. No one must have noticed me being outside, or at least I don't think so. Today is the day of dragon training, which I'm not excited about at all. There's no way I'm topping first place in training and then my father will get even more disappointed in me! Thank you Thor!
I walk towards my house, getting some breakfast. After I finished eating I decided to go to the arena even if the training starts in three hours. What else can I really do? And not to mention the axe my father left behind for me is heavy as a yak! How can he expect me to hold this? I may be able to hold it for a few minutes, but then my arms will surely give up. Unfortunately, the way to the arena is long and I will have to take some pauses to catch my breath.