-New Age- Chapter 3: III -The Eyes Can Not Lie-, a how to train your dragon fanfic

-Chapter: III-

-The Eyes Can Not Lie-

Everyone has a place in this world. Like the individual trees that make up the forest I am walking through. Some people find that place, others discover it, and some make their own place. Not me. Not Hiccup the Useless. I could compare myself to the boulder to my side and note how the two of us stick out in this earthy toned picture. Twin thumbs on bare feet. I don't belong in my village, but where else am I to be? My family is there, the only people I would ever be able to call friends are there as well. It's my home, and I plan to at least let people know that I exist with dignity.

The closing of a book sounded out in the silent forest as Hiccup looked up from his seat of mossy stone. Tired feet led to a small break and time to gather his thoughts.

Hiccup had been wandering through the wooded shield of Raven Point for some time now. The sun was most likely above the horizon now. Fog was starting to collect around the small child. Most definently Morning.

The chilling haze at least helped Hiccup focus his head of the nights events, allowing him to recollect on the hasty followings. He had supposedly shot down the fearsome Night Fury, a dragon that has never been seen before. Some say it does not exist. The horrid screeching and terrifying sound of the collapsing watch tower told a different story to the little boy that fired the bola. It all swirled around and 'round inside his head, not unlike the fog currently swirling around and 'round his sight.

Hiccup groaned. The slippery dew made his progress slow. He had been walking and walking, searching over every ridge, every crumpled path where something may have lain. "I think I've covered nearly half of Raven Point by now-" He crossed off a portion of his personal map he had brought in his journal. "Still no dragon."

He didn't want to think on it, but he knew the possibility of the dragon escaping the ropes was there, but he still didn't want to think on it. It would happen to he of all Vikings. Only Hiccup the Useless could manage to shoot down a Night Fury and lose it.

To the trees and fog, of all foes.

" Ah, whats the use. My feet are sore, my hands are numb, and my head weighs a hundred pounds from lack of sleep. Even if I found the dragon, I wouldn't be able to anything, being so useless."

Still he persisted. Hiccup was anything but a quiter. He had to find it, whatever it was.

He pulled out his map and scanned over it. Desperate to see if there was some wondrous clue hidden within the creases of the lines. All it showed back was his prime work. Failure. Failure to find a great big dragon in the woods. Most likely black too, judging from it's ability to blend in the shadows of night.

"Oh the Gods hate me. Some people lose their knife in the mud, no not me. I manage to lose an entire dragon!" He lashed out at the ferns to his side at the last note. Except, there were no ferns. Hiccup looked down and saw that they were nearly uprooted and trampled at the same time. Like they were slammed into and across at the same time. From an impact of great girth. Something fell.

Here...and slid...there.

Hiccup nearly lost his footing when he saw the signs. They were clear as day, at least as clear as a non-foggy day would be.

"Oh, oh this is it! This-this is what I've been looking for! okay, umm, path leads-" He pointed out his finger in self-response to the path of upturned soil and dirt. It was a terrifying sight, like walking any path of destruction would be.

Hiccup was easing his way up a small crest, still following the path. He gingerly looked over to see if it was safe to continue scaling. He only gave himself a moment to take it all in...

There, on the other side; in a small clearing lay a still form. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The creatures scales had a shade competing even the thickest of pitch. Even at the moment, being entangled in ropes, it still looked, no, felt, more menacing than anything he had seen.

`Night Fury

No one has ever seen a Night Fury before, and here was Hiccup, scared out of his own wits even when being protected by it's restraining ropes. Some Viking he was. Scared out of an unconscious dragon? Sounds like Hiccup the Useless.

He gently clambered over the crest and rested against a small boulder that was between him and the beast. Even in this situation, it didn't hurt to be a little cautious. He looked over his shoulder at his target and slowly moved forward, nearly forgetting to pull out his knife. He continued to ease forward, unsure of it's current state. Was it sleeping? Was it knocked-out unconscious? Was it...dead? Maybe.

"Oh wow. I did it, I-I actually did it! Yes! Oh, I have brought down this mighty beast!" He exclaimed, placing one foot on the front paw of the beast. bad move.

With a strained huff, the dragon clearly came back to a state of conciousness. After tumbling backwards into the boulder, Hiccup walked forward and looked down.

Down into the eyes of his enemy.

Into the eyes of this dragon.

This Night Fury.

Hiccup saw fear. Fear in the face of the greatest of foes. Two enemies staring into each others hearts, knowing the state of each other. One to die, the other to live. One to live, one to die.

If someone was watching, they would think this position went on for many hours. Hiccup couldn't understand it. He was a Viking. Taught to believe that the enemy, the dragons, felt no emotions besides the need for kill and feed. To do nothing but just that. All eyes turned from the face of fear. A face of fear plastered across both. Hiccup felt fear obviously in the presence of a great and powerful threat, but the dragon? Any Viking would shrug off the notion and slice the beating heart of the enemy there and then, but Hiccup as he knew, wasn't like a normal Viking. He thought about things before he acted. Well, most times he did. Well, he tried to be careful.

It went on like this for hours. Hours in seconds, days in weeks, passings in phases. Both eyes locked on the other. Silence. Cut.

"I'm going to kill you dragon. I'm- I'm going to cut out your heart and give it my father." An order unto himself. A telling of things that must be. Of what should be. "I am a Viking." identification.

"I am a Viking!" an act of self-believing. Failed.

He lifted his glinting dagger atop his head and closed his eyes. A thousand thoughts paced in his head.

'...Bring down the blade...'

'...Cut deep into the heart of your enemy...'

'...You are a Viking. Vikings kill their enemies...'

'...Dragons are our enemies...'

'...not much is really known about the creatures...'

'...You are many things Hiccup, but a dragon-killer is not one of them...'

'...I can't chase after the impossible goal of being a true Viking...'

'...like my father always wanted...'

He couldn't stand it. Whether it was the stare the dragon at his feet; at his mercy; gave up, or it was the impossible weight of an entire societies expectations on him at this very moment, or it was the heavy fatigue from his long hike, or a combination of everything at once. Whatever it was, his arms caved in, and his knees collapsed, and Hiccup fell to the earth in a pile, blade loosely falling to the side.

Hiccup slept a dreamless sleep. Nothing but nightmares haunted him.

Memories, beliefs, understandings and ignorance. To live and kill. The meaning of a choice. All the choices he's made. All the actions he's taken. All the guilt of regret in making his life his own washing over in a furnace of pitch-black.

...and eyes.

Eyes that peered into his heart and struck true to him. Showing him who he was. What he had to become. All his choices leading to the life his father would want. Not a choice of his own. Not a life his own. Eyes that showed a path different from the rest of the woods. A path that lead to a fork. A fork in the road of his life. One path lead to his death, the other to his life. The eyes pointed either way.

All the signs in his way to guide him forever more into the heart of uncertainty. Uncertain in the choices he's made. The defining moments of who he was and what he made of himself. Both paths lead to death and life. There will be death in life, and life in death. It is the cycle of existence. Both immaterial, and immortal. A cycle forever more that turns the wheels of time. Change unto Change.