So convinced, the night fury burned the rocky surface beneath him to a pleasingly warm temperature, and then settled down. He closed his eyes, curled his tail, and spread his tail fins out like a blindfold over his eyes. All he needed was some sleep. Then everything, surely, would be right once more.
...
The night fury awoke slowly and gently, eased into consciousness by some instinctual sense that it was dawn. The night's sleep had been wonderful, and his current position was so comfortable that he found it quite difficult to move. And really, he reasoned, he had no need to. So he laid there in silence, breathing deeply and evenly, relaxed in the promise of a new day.
At least, he was relaxed. Until, that is, he suddenly got the feeling that he was being watched. Still hoping for a longer rest, the night fury shook his head quickly and tried to ignore it. But the feeling only intensified. Though his eyes were closed and he heard nothing, he could feel, quite distinctly, someone's eyes on him. Staring at him, boring through him. Tension quickened the night fury's breathing and tightened his muscles. So much for the restful morning, he thought wryly.
Finally heeding the ever-intensifying sensation of being watched, the night fury opened his eyes and raised his head, uncurling himself and looking around for the source of the feeling. It didn't take him long. And so much for 'back to normal', he lamented.
For anything resembling 'normal' seemed to have left him for good, as the night fury found himself facing, once more, the mysterious viking in the sinister cloak that hid him so well. The human was just as the dragon remembered him. Covered in the same cloak, features still invisible. Same bloody dagger glinting in his slender left hand. The night fury glanced quickly around, and noted that he was alone. The other dragons had likely flown out for breakfast.
"You're back," the dragon remarked, curiously, ignoring the sense of foreboding that seemed to radiate constantly from the figure before him.
"I am," the viking confirmed. And although the viking's face was hidden, the night fury thought he had heard a smile in the human's voice. But then again, maybe he was imagining things. He seemed to be getting pretty good at that, lately. Quietly, the night fury waited for the viking to say more, but it seemed that the other was perfectly content in the silence. Normally, the night fury wouldn't mind, but right now, he had questions.
"Who are you?" the dragon asked, voice still dripping with obvious curiosity.
"My name is Hiccup." Again, the night fury could swear he heard a smile.
"Hiccup?" the dragon echoed. He was the one grinning now, albeit tentatively. "Are all human names that strange?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," Hiccup chuckled. Toothless huffed out a little laugh, part amused and part amazed. Not about the human names; he had always figured them for strange. But what he hadn't figured was this particular human. This odd, illusive viking who seemed to defy every human stereotype at every turn. The humans were supposed to be evil - cold, vicious killers who held no stock in morals or manners. And yet, here was Hiccup - laughing, smiling, kind Hiccup, who had saved the night fury's life.
"Hiccup?" the dragon asked. "Why did you save me?" But again the viking made no answer. The night fury frowned, and looked away, concentrating hard. Maybe he just wasn't asking the right question. What should he ask? After a few seconds of silence, the dragon thought of another question.
"What do you want?" he asked. Again there was no answer. The night fury looked to Hiccup, and instead found himself staring at an empty space. The viking was gone.
"Hiccup?" he called out to the empty room.
"Who's Hiccup?" asked a new voice. Startled, the night fury spun around. There was the blue Deadly Nadder he had met yesterday. Her head was cocked to the side in curiosity, and her demeanor was expectant. She waited patiently for his answer.
"Hiccup!" he repeated, slightly frantically. "Oh, that! Ha!" He was stalling, thinking quickly for any plausible explanation, because he would not be telling her that he may or may not be certifiably insane. "Hiccups. I was just- I thought I heard- Do you have them?" he stuttered. The Nadder laughed lightly - a musical sound - and the night fury's nerves began to settle.
"Why are you so nervous?" she laughed. It was a rhetorical question, and the night fury inwardly sighed with relief. He had no answer to give her. "And no," she added. "I don't have the hiccups. Do you?"
"I have a Hiccup," he said, and then mentally slapped himself. "I mean, hiccups! I have some. I had them." He coughed, feeling painfully awkward. "They're gone now," he finished lamely.
"Too bad," she said.
"Too bad?"
"Yes. I heard of a very good hiccup cure, and I wanted to try it."
"What is it?" the night fury asked.
"A flight," the Nadder replied happily. She was tilting her spiked head towards the nest entrance now, an unspoken question. The night fury grinned.
"You know," he said, "I think they might be coming back. We should try it."
"Good call."
...
The night fury folded his wings and dipped expertly into the dragon's nest, landing smoothly on the nearest perch. The usual lightness he felt at the end of a wonderful flight filled him, and he laid down, content. The sky was beginning to darken, and most of the dragons were, like him, relaxing peacefully inside the nest. With the seemingly-infinite supply of curiosity that constantly simmered within him, the night fury rested his head comfortably on his front claws, and began to watch the other dragons.
They milled about the nest in a slow, casual manner, and the night fury tracked their movements with his keen eyes. A Monstrous Nightmare flared up suddenly, likely attempting to impress the handful of dragons in its vicinity. A Gronckle, unimpressed, flew idly by. It passed by a purple Nadder, which the night fury began to watch, and then he saw it.
He was not sure what he was seeing at first. But, before his very eyes, what looked like a sort of liquid sphere began to emerge from the Nadder's chest. The Nadder continued happily grooming herself, seemingly unaware. Bewildered, the night fury looked around at the nearby dragons. No one seemed to notice. Was he... the only one that could see it?
With intense curiosity, he watched the Nadder closely, and the liquid sphere began to move. Slowly, it elongated into a sort of wobbling tube, and began to extend out in the direction of the center of the nest. As the night fury watched, it traveled all the way to an outcrop on the other side of the nest, and stopped. Looking back to the Nadder, he felt a chill run down his spine.
She had stopped grooming herself, and instead took flight. The night fury watched, a sense of surreality burrowing into him, as the Nadder followed exactly the path of the liquid sphere. Just as the sphere had done, she flew through the center of the nest, and landed lightly on the other side.
But that was not the end of it. The blue Gronckle next to her caught the night fury's attention, because there it was again. That odd little sphere. It extended out in haphazard twists and turns, and the night fury watched as the Gronckle followed its path exactly.
And then the night fury looked down. There, on his own chest, was one of the spheres. Bubbling innocently before him, it reflected the red light of the nest, creating little sparks of red light that danced around him. The dragon chuckled quietly without really finding anything funny, and watched in a kind of daze as it elongated and began to move. It curved in a smooth arc and extended past the nest entrance, reaching out into the darkening sky beyond. Obediently, the night fury followed.
On whispering wings, he took soundlessly to the sky, unsurprised as his movements echoed exactly the sphere's path before him. He followed it out into the night, barely registering the first few stars winking into existence, and the bone-chilling air that swept against his scales. He had eyes for nothing but the path he must follow.
After a few minutes of flight, the night fury could see where the sphere ended. It was a remote rocky outcrop that overlooked the ocean. Oddly-shaped stacks of rocks created shadowy patches of dark beneath the moonlight. The place was deserted.
The night fury touched down effortlessly, and looked out over the crashing ocean below. Questions began to rush into his mind the way the tide broke against the shore. Why was he supposed to come here? Was something supposed to happen? And why had he seen those- those whatever-they-were? And furthermore-
He was distracted by a sudden noise. Instantly on guard, the night fury turned and peered into the darkness as far as he could see.
"Someone there?" he called cautiously.
"Only me," said a warm voice, and the night fury watched as Hiccup melted silently out of the shadows.
"Hiccup!" the night fury greeted happily. It was odd, but somehow the foreboding, dangerous, and supposedly-evil viking no longer put fear in the dragon's heart. Beneath the frightening exterior was a human that seemed - well, more dragon than human. The night fury approached Hiccup, stopping a short distance away. His pupils widened in excitement at the prospect of finally getting some answers. "Hiccup, what were those sphere things?" he asked quickly, wasting no time, lest the viking disappear again. "What do they mean? How come I can see them?"
Hiccup simply shrugged, an action that looked strange beneath his sinister black cloak. And all of a sudden, inexplicably, the night fury had a sudden desire to take that cloak off of him. What did he look like, this viking that was so different? This strange human that was possibly just a figment of his own imagination? Seized with a fierce curiosity, the dragon moved forward, intending to remove his savior's cloak. He had no doubt that the human would let him.
But before he reached Hiccup, the night fury stopped. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Although the chilly night air was the only thing that separated the two of them, the night fury had somehow run into a wall. At least, that's what it had felt like. Tentatively, he stuck a claw out, and watched with unconcealed amazement as it hit something semi-solid. Where his claw had touched, a ripple of force radiated from it, warping his view of Hiccup for a moment. Awed, he shoved his head against it, and watched the invisible wall ripple once more. He looked, wide-eyed, to Hiccup. The cloaked viking reached out a hand and touched the wall, too. It rippled beneath his small hand, with more force than it had done with the night fury.
"How are you doing this?" the dragon asked, marveling at the sight before him.
"I can do anything," Hiccup said. "And so can you." The dragon tilted his head in confusion. What was Hiccup saying? And then, unbidden, the night fury began to feel a strange kind of power escalate within him. He felt suddenly stronger - unstoppable - and the blood began to rush through his veins with unusual speed. The adrenaline built within him, and for the briefest of moments, he teetered on the edge of an epiphany. Yes. Yes, Hiccup was right. He could do anything. Anything-
But then the moment ended. The power he had felt receded as a nervous sort of fear replaced it. What was happening to him? Was this even real? Had he somehow lost his grip on reality? Maybe he was insane. Maybe all this was in his head. Maybe it was imagination, or hallucination. Uncertain, the night fury stepped back, away from Hiccup, away from the vision of the haunting viking. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but the human remained firmly in place, watching him.
"Where do you come from?" the dragon asked, fearful. Scared of just what the answer might be. Your mind. Your dreams. Your nightmares. For a long moment, the viking said nothing, and the dragon began to worry that this was another question the human would not answer. But then the viking responded, and the reply was nothing he had expected. Not even close.
"Do you believe in time travel?"