The Night Fury woke with a start, gasping painfully for air and wincing as fire flared in his chest. The pain subsided to a dull throb and he managed to open his eyes. He blinked away the bright light that flared briefly and looked around in confusion. He was lying on the ground. Tall slender trees towered above him and soft light flitted through a vibrant green canopy. A beam of the warm light fell across his back, warming his aching scales, and he relished the comforting feeling for a few moments before he was startled again by a scurrying noise in the branches far above him.

He glanced up, ignoring the pain that flared briefly in his neck and spine, and his confusion only grew. Flurries of color flashed through the green canopy. Various shades of green, orange, yellow, and many more moved in a chaotic fashion. He caught glints of bulbous yellow eyes and flashes of flicking pink tongues.

Nervousness crept over him and he slowly tried to rise. At his subtle movement, all scurrying stopped and the young Night Fury felt dozens of eyes lock on him. He froze halfway up and dared not look up.

A bush to his left rustled and a small head poked hesitantly from the thin underbrush. He jerked his head back and his ear flaps flared in surprise. The creature was small, smaller than him even, and covered in bright yellow and green scales. Small spikes ran down its spine and eyes too big for its head bulged out. The only thing that put the young dragon at ease was the sight of the thin, furled up wings on the creature's sides, signifying that it was indeed a dragon. It was, however, the queerest dragon the young Night Fury had ever seen. Then again, he wouldn't know if he had met any other dragons at all.

"Eeeeyy…he's awake!" The little dragon squawked with a funny, jittery accent that sounded like he was almost trying to sing. He took a step forward but stopped quickly when the young dragon recoiled slightly. "Eey, ees okay, amigo. I'm a friend. You remember me, sí? Ees Sharpshot. I helped you?" The little dragon, dubbed Sharpshot, queried.

Flashes of a cold and painful night flickered through his memory. Shadows, skittering shadows and chattering voices. Then he was dragged. He vaguely remembered Sharpshot say something to him right before he passed out from exhaustion. He looked back at the little neon dragon who was in turn looking back at him expectantly. He nodded a little in response to his question, but the movement caused pain to flare temporarily in his skull. With a hiss, he sunk back to the ground.

"Eey, take eet easy, Verde. You ees hurt pretty bad," Sharpshot scurried forwards, ignoring the worried chatter rising from the trees around him.

"Where am I?" the young dragon managed through gritted teeth. He wasn't really in the mood for conversation, but he wanted Sharpshot to keep talking to keep his mind off the pain. "What happened?"

"Well, you ees in my home, Bella Boyuyu. But as far as what happened, we were hoping you would be telling us. Me y Iggy found you on the beach a week ago all beat up and half-dead," he paused before cautiously continuing. "Do you remember anything, Verde?"

The young dragon tried to recall what had happened that had injured him so badly. Why was he alone? What was he doing? Memories eluded his mind's grasp and he shook his head again, more carefully, in frustration. A week? He was sleeping for a week? It felt like a long time, though the true meaning of that specific length of time held little meaning for him. "No, I just remember kind of waking up in the water, then you found me, uh…"

"Sharphot, Verde," Sharphot provided.

"Sharpshot… Why do you keep saying Verde?" The little Night Fury asked, changing the subject. Trying to remember made his head hurt worse.

Sharpshot's eyes widened as if he didn't realize he had been saying it. "Oh.. ees the name I made for you. Apologies, Night Fury, I deedn't know your name." Said Night Fury didn't respond, simply cocked his head in confusion. "You… do have a name, sí?"

"I…I don't know," he struggled to once again break down the foggy barrier that had placed itself between him and his mind. Although, where his other memories had felt hidden from him, a name did not hide itself in the same manner. It didn't feel like he just couldn't remember, it felt like it had never been. "I don't think I have a name," he said quietly.

"Oh," Shaprshot hummed. A brief silence followed before Sharphot spoke again. "Then…ees it ok that I call you Verde?" When the Night Fury just gave him a puzzled look, he quickly clarified. "It means Green." Although, that only confused the poor little dragon farther. He was quite obviously black, not green. Sharpshot chuckled. "Ees for your eyes, not your scales. Your eyes are very bright verde."

"Oh, I guess that's ok," the newly dubbed Verde muttered. Suddenly, more skittering above him caught his attention, and he turned his gaze to the trees once more. Now that he had woken more and the pain started to fade to a dull throb, he could see more clearly the many, many… many little dragons crowded in the trees. They all stared intently at him with bulging green and yellow eyes.

"That's mi familia!" Sharpshot interjected excitedly, catching Verde's gaze. Verde was silent, gazing warily back at the plethora of eyes. Whispers and murmurs spread throughout the tree canopy. "Don't worry, you're safe here. We couldn't hurt you even if we wanted to," he chuckled and turned back to the bush he had emerged from. Verde pondered that for a moment while Sharpshot rummaged around the bush, backing out of it a moment later dragging a fish by its tail.

"Why is that?" Verde asked cautiously, eyes still on the trees. When Shaprshot hummed in question, he rephrased, "Why couldn't you hurt me?" He didn't feel any danger but the Terrors were not much smaller than him and there were definitely more of them. They could totally take him out if they wanted to.

"Hmm? Oh! Well, you's a Night Fury," Sharpshot said as if it was obvious and explained everything, but the term meant close to nothing to Verde. "you know, unholy offspring of lightning and death itself…? The fastest dragon in existence, topped only by the ground speed of a Speed Stinger?" He tried again, but again Verde shook his head. That didn't sound right, he was too little and broken to be a Night Fury. "Amigo! There are legends about your kind that would put even the most prideful dragons to shame! We thought you were all gone!" a startled hush fell over the crowd as Sharpshot realized what he said.

"What do you mean, all gone? Am I alone?" Panic sprouted up again and Verde racked his brain for any memories that indicated it wasn't true. Brief flashes of fire lit up dark clouds but again no coherent memories formed.

"Well, uh… I mean, you might not be. You ees, uh, you ees not that old. You gotta have parents out there somewhere," Sharpshot tried to backpedal, though sharp hisses were thrown his way from the trees and he glared up at Iggy, who was all too eager to reprimand him but unwilling to help directly.

"Parents?" Gold and blue orbs flashed in his memories, accompanied by a feeling of warmth. They were quickly consumed by the fire that was consuming his mind. And the word came back in a panicked voice that was not his own, North.

"Do you remember anything? Anything at all, Verde?" Sharpshot said quietly, delicately changing the subject matter.

"Just North. I have to go north, but I don't know why," he said.

"Ya, I was thinking about that, Verde. You said that the night we found you, too. But there is nothing North of here except legends." He replied carefully. "There are some human villages… ah, what are their names, oh Bonkers.. oh no, Berserk and, uh, Peaceables, Berk, Meatheads… any of those ringing a bell?"

"What are humans?" Verde asked, cocking his head, his ear flaps flopping off to one side of his head.

"I'll take that as a no then," Sharpshot disregarded the question. "There are no permanent nests either, a few packs migrate but none ever stick around."

"What are the legends?" Verde tried regaining Shaprshot's attention.

"Oh, a Bewilderbeast, but it's just a myth." But Verde stopped listening, eyes widening at the name. Bewilderbeast.

'…to find a Bewilderbeast

… the King

… he can save us, but you have to find him…'

Verde gasped, banging his head against the ground from the searing pain. He couldn't hear Sharpshot call his name, couldn't see other Terrors rushing over, trying to contain his thrashing form, but they were all flung off as if they were nothing. Had he been in his right mind, he would have been astounded by the strength he contained, but as it were, the barriers in his mind were crumbling like that mountain, memories crashing out like…

"AAAAaaaaahhhh!" He cried out in agony and terror at the memory of the monstrous beast that swallowed the sun. Thoughts of the Bewilderbeast were lost as he finally recalled he reason for his pain. "Noooo! I don't… Aah! I don't want t-to remember!" He screamed out, talons digging dangerously into his head in vain attempts to block the maelstrom. In his mind, he was flying again, flying fast and furiously from a crimson horror, a red death… the Red Death. He didn't want to remember it! He flew faster, willing the clouds and smoke to block out the horrors once more. Blue light flashed in the smog, lighting the massive shadow.

Then it was gone.

He was drifting in a grey-white cloud, a cool breeze fluttering under aching wings.

He opened his eyes, brought back to the present. He felt groggy, like he had just woken from a long nap. Sharpshot stood nervously hopping from one foot to another…to another to another. He gave a sheepish grin, "Calm down Sharpshot, you're making me nervous just looking at you." His voice was quiet and cracked, but his eyes were glazed over. Sharpshot just stared, but stilled his jittering limbs.

"Verde…" Sharpshot muttered. "What happened to you?" The question wasn't directed at him in particular, and hung in the air like an ominous cloud.

"What do you mean?" Verde smiled an absurdly calm smile, and gazed complacently at a space above Sharpshot's head.

Sharpshot faltered. "Didn't you just remember?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sharpshot. I don't remember anything."

More Terrors crowded around, staring at the oblivious dragon. Sharpshot was dumbfounded. He had been screaming moments ago about fire and death and that he didn't want to remember…oh.

He looked at the young Night Fury in awe and pity. Whatever haunted this hatchling's past was horrible enough to rid the memories of whatever life he had before along with the horrors. He, in essence, wiped his own memory clean, of all memories good and bad.

What could be that awful?

And what kind of power must this dragon have over minds if he could control his own to such an extent?

North, Sharpshot though. There must be answers in the North.

.:~:.~.:~:.~.:~:.~

I like this chapter. I didn't at first because i started Shaprshot and Verde (Toothless') conversation with no direction, but i think it went where it needed to go. You get a glimpse at some of the power Verde/Toothless has, it's going to particularly important at the story goes on, so pay attention to any weird behavior from our little black hatchling.

Thanks for reviews! And check out my other new story, too: A Steampunk Tail. HTTYD in the steampunk era. It's my brain child.