XLII.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared Hiccup for his first sight of Berk.
Throughout his life, Hiccup had seen the Berk village undergo many stages. The festive colors and decorations propped up in snow-infested Snoggletog, fires overrunning the village during the dragon attacks of his childhood, the black-scorched frames of destroyed houses, the busy bustle of Vikings reconstructing their homes yet again, the colorful painted houses and peaceful atmosphere of a dragon-friendly environment following the Red Death's eradication. He had believed he had seen every imaginable state possible, from harsh white winters to blooming spring times, from blackened crisps to colorful brights, from half-destroyed ruins to new and pristine doll homes.
But he had never seen Berk like this.
Nothing close.
Many times Hiccup had flown across the oceans toward Berk. He and Toothless frequently rushed past the two sentinel stone statues which waded in the harbor and guarded over Berk's northeastern shore. Yet even these steadfast guards failed to protect the island from a Bewilderbeast's icy breath, for the once-grand sculpture on the right existed no more but for a crumpled base, and the other wary sentinel's face cracked from an unforgiving dragon's blow. One of its eyes would nevermore be able to see and watch the horizon for island attackers. And there, there beyond the two of them, not the customary perilous craggy mountain peaks of the island rose above the ocean, but a bristling explosion of aqua-colored ice spears. No more could Hiccup spy the familiar rock formations of his home; the entire geography crumbled beneath newly-formed frozen towers.
Everything, absolutely everything on Berk, was encased in dagger-pointed ice.
After nearly a month of blizzards and hazardous travel on a baby dragon, becoming lost and huddling in the caves of the Northern Wanderers while a two-week long storm tore through the entire continent, Hiccup had anticipated, half-nervously, half-eagerly, a return to the greens of Berk. Not a reformed second mountain for the Vigilante's colossal Bewilderbeast.
And though he and the Sabre Tooth Driver Dragon still had much a distance to fly before they alighted on the island proper, Hiccup knew exactly what he would find now. Each wing flap from the white infant dragon, bringing him steadily closer to Berk, confirmed his worst fears.
Just like Eret's old shredded fortress, which Hiccup and Astrid had discovered what felt an eternity ago, all the wood from the village had been splintered, shattered, and frozen inside icy javelins. Not two boards from the same house remained intact, and indeed not even one unaltered board could be seen amongst shredded timber splinters. Ice chewed up the entire village, gutting every house and strewing its insides across once-troddable pathways, now overrun and hazardous to the step. He had seen shipwrecks more orderly than this. Did Hiccup not recognize half the door entering the Great Hall, he might have even wondered if his dragon had taken him to the entire wrong island.
But this was home.
Was home.
Not a single Viking appeared to reside there now. All the Hooligans had disappeared, leaving nothing but shattered skeletons of homes and old, broken dragon stables to confirm their one-time presence.
Are they safe? Where has everyone gone?
Kneeling in to the Sabre Tooth Driver Dragon's face, Hiccup murmured, "Easy there, Spiky. Let's go in, nice and slow."
It was time to investigate.
Hiccup's eyes roved over every inch of Berk as he and the Sabre Tooth Driver Dragon neared the destruction, nervously watching for evidence that the Bewilderbeast – and his mother – still resided on Berk.
You would think a class ten size dragon would be easy to spot. Yet Hiccup noticed nothing. The greatest creature to move in the abandoned village below was an orange and yellow Terrible Terror, scarfing down a fish nearly the size it was.
"Land over there," Hiccup murmured, and pointed his dragon to and area less strewn in debris than other parts of Berk. Obediently, Spiky fluttered toward the location and set down, allowing Hiccup to hop off its back, pull out his sword Endeavor, and take a closer survey of his old home. A chill breeze rose up as he stepped between fragmented buildings. The wind pulled at his hair and touched against a band of cloth he wrapped around his head. Beneath the makeshift headband he could still feel the burn of a mark against his skin, right at his temple on the right side.
He scourged through the city proper, up to the ice-eaten wood scatterings of his old home, down to the dragon arena, and to the docks. His feet tread upon the tracks of many dragons, many footsteps, once even swept past the enough footprint of the Bewilderbeast.
She attacked… and Berk was defeated.
He gingerly maneuvered his prosthetic over a children's toy so it would not be crushed by his foot.
Only one location remained to be checked: the hangar in the caves beneath the village.
A menacing growl echoed across the dark interior as soon as Hiccup stepped inside. Sword clutched in hand, he nervously scanned his eyes through the dim light, seeking for the source of that growl, that creature, before it could attack and end him. For if it were one of the Vigilante's dragons, he could not expect to tame the dragons as he could other feral beasts. Hiccup could expect nothing except an attack now.
His eyes adjusted quickly, and all at once he noticed the dragon which approached him.
Eyes widened, staring at him with ominous vertical slits for pupils.
Teeth bared, semi-serrated rows of white fangs snarling.
Twin black wings, unfurled, spread out to make the Night Fury appear even larger and more intimidating than it already was.
A leather brown saddle secured on its back, and a red flag-like tailfin on the left side.
Toothless.