A noisy din of protesting voices leads to Stoick, glowering in the firelight, surrounded by his men.

"Either we finish them or they'll finish us! It's the only way we'll get rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home."

He sinks his blade into a large nautical map, spread out on the table. The blade pierces the middle of an uncharted corner, swirling with painted sea monsters and dragons.

"One more search. Before the ice sets in."

"Those ships never come back."

"We're Vikings. It's an occupational hazard. Now who's with me?"

Stoick throws up his fist. No one follows. The crowds shifts in restless silence. Head scratches. Eyes averted.

"Today's not good for me."

"I've gotta do my axe returns."

"Alright. Those who stay will look after Hiccup."

Hands jut into the air, volunteers galore. Enthusiastic murmurs of prep and packing fill the room.

"To the ships!"

"I'm with you Stoick!"

"That's more like it."

The Vikings rush for the door, leaving Gobber and Stoick alone. Gobber gulps back the contents of his tankard attachment and scrapes back the bench.

"I'll pack my undies."

"No, I need you to stay and train some new recruits."

"Oh, perfect. And while I'm busy, Hiccup can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time to himself...what could possibly go wrong?"

Stoick sinks onto the bench beside Gobber, his brow burdened.

"What am I going to do with him Gobber?"

"Put him in training with the others."

"No, I'm serious."

"So am I."

Stoick turns to him, glaring.

"He'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage."

"Oh, you don't know that."

"I do know that, actually."

"No, you don't."

"No, actually I do."

"No you don't!"

"Listen! You know what he's like. From the time he could crawl he's been...different. He doesn't listen. Has the attention span of a sparrow. I take him fishing and he goes hunting for... for trolls."

"Trolls exist! They steal your socks. But only the left ones. What's with that?"

"When I was a boy..."

"Oh here we go."

"My father told me to bang my head against a rock and I did it. I thought it was crazy, but I didn't question him. And you know what happened?"

"You got a headache."

"That rock split in two. It taught me what a Viking could do, Gobber. He could crush mountains, level forests, tame seas! Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I had to

become. Hiccup is not that boy."

"You can't stop him, Stoick. You can only prepare him. Look, I know it seems hopeless. But the truth is you won't always be around to protect him. He's going to get out there again. He's probably out there now."

At the forest, Hiccup is walking with an open notebook. A drawn map of the island, covered in X's. He looks up from it and peeks over a gorge, expectantly. Sees nothing. He adds another 'X' to the page, then scratches his pencil over the whole map in frustration. He snaps the book closed and pockets it.

"Uggh, the gods hate me. Some people lose their knife or their mug. No, not me. I manage to lose an entire dragon."

Hiccup whacks a low-hanging branch. It snaps back at him, hitting him in the face. He looks up to see a snapped tree trunk. His eyes follow it to a long trench of up-turned earth. He follows it to a downed, black dragon, its body and tail tangled in a bola. It appears dead. Hiccup approaches, beaming.

"Oh wow. I did it. I did it. This fixes everything. Yes!"

He strikes a victory pose, planting his foot on the fallen Night Fury.

"I have brought down this mighty beast!"

It moves. Hiccup springs back, terrified. He turns his blade on it. Rattled, Hiccup creeps along the length of the weak, wounded dragon, dagger poised to strike. As he reaches the head, Hiccup finds the Night Fury staring coldly at him. Hiccup tries to look away, but he's drawn back to its unnerving, unflinching stare. With the dragon safety tangled in the ropes, Hiccup jabs with his dagger, puffing himself up with false bravado.

"I'm going to kill you, Dragon. I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father. I'm a Viking. I'm a Viking!"

Hiccup raises the dagger, determined to prove his Vikingness. The dragon's labored breathing breaks Hiccup's clenched concentration. He opens an eye, uncertainty leaking through. The dragon holds the stare. Something profound is exchanged. Finally, the Night Fury closes its eye and lowers its head, resigned to its fate. Hiccup tries to go through with it, holding the dagger aloft... fighting himself... until finally lowering it with a frustrated sigh. He looks over the dragon's chaffed rope wounds.

"I did this."

He turns to leave. Pauses. And glances back at the dragon, chest heaving. Hiccup grumbles. He checks over his shoulder to ensure that no one is watching... then hurries back to cut the ropes. The Night Fury's eye shoots open. With the dragon watching his every move, Hiccup hurriedly saws through the bola ropes. As the last rope falls free, the Night Fury suddenly pounces! In a blur, the dragon is upon him, pinning Hiccup down, grazing his neck. Looking like it's about to kill him. Hiccup is paralyzed. The dragon's breath ruffles his hair. Hiccup opens his eyes to find the Night Fury's wolf-like stare boring into him. The exchange is intense, profound. The dragon draws a deep breath, as though it's about to torch him, then lets out an ear-piercing scream instead. It turns and takes flight, flapping violently through the canopy of trees. It bashes against a nearby mountain side, recovers, and drops out of view some distance away. Winded, Hiccup struggles to his feet, staggers a few steps, collapses to his knees, and faints.

Hiccup enters his room and sees his father, seated on a thick slice of tree-trunk. He is slouched over the fire-pit, stirring the coals with his axe. Embers waft around his beard. Hiccup tries to sneak past, up the stairs to his room.

"Hiccup."

"Dad. Uh..."

Stoick stands, takes a deep breath.

"I, uh... I have to talk to you, Dad."

"I need to speak with you too, son."

Both speak at the same time.

"I've decided I don't want to I think it's time you learn fight dragons. to fight dragons."

"What?"

"What?"

"You go first."

"No, you go first."

"Alright. You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning."

"Oh man, I should've gone first. Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough bread-making Vikings, or small home repair vikings-"

"-You'll need this."

Stoick hands Hiccup his axe. Hiccup avoids taking it.

"I don't want to fight dragons."

"Come on. Yes, you do."

"Rephrase. Dad I can't kill dragons."

"But you will kill dragons."

"No, I'm really very extra sure that I won't."

"It's time Hiccup."

"Can you not hear me?"

"This is serious son!"

Stoick forces the axe into Hiccup's hands. Its weight drags him down. He looks up to see Stoick under-lit with firelight.

"When you carry this axe... you carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us. You talk like us. You think like us. No more of... this."

"You just gestured to all of me."

"Deal?"

"This conversation is feeling very one-sided."

"Deal?!"

Hiccup glances at the axe in his hands. It's a no-win argument.

"Deal."

Satisfied, Stoick grabs his helmet and duffel bag... and heads for the door.

"Good. Train hard. I'll be back. Probably."

"And I'll be here. Maybe."

Stoick heads out the door, leaving Hiccup holding the axe.

Gobber raises a massive iron gate at the entrance of a vast stone arena.

"Welcome to dragon training!"

The recruits file through the gate, and out onto the arena floor. They take it in like gladiators entering the colosseum. The walls are covered in scorched silhouettes of blasted Vikings. It's a grim yet awe-inspiring place.

"No turning back."

"I hope I get some serious burns."

"I'm hoping for some mauling, like on my shoulder or lower back."

"Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it."

"Yeah, no kidding, right? Pain. Love it."

The recruits turn to see Hiccup behind them. Groans all around.

"Oh great. Who let him in?"

"Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village."

"Hiccup already killed a Night Fury, so does that disqualify him or...?"

The recruits laugh and chatter in the background.

"Can I transfer to the class with the cool Vikings?"

Gobber throws a supportive arm around Hiccup and ushers him along.

"Don't worry. You're small and you're weak. That'll make you less of a target. They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens instead."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Gobber sticks him in line with the others and continues on toward five massive reinforced doors. Terrible roars and bellows issue from within.

"Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight."

Fishlegs bounces and giggles with excitement, barely able to contain himself.

"The Deadly Nadder."

"Speed eight. Armor sixteen."

"The Hideous Zippleback."

"Plus eleven stealth. Times two."

"The Monstrous Nightmare."

"Firepower fifteen."

"The Terrible Terror."

"Attack eight. Venom twelve."

"CAN YOU STOP THAT?!"

"And... the Gronckle."

"Jaw strength, eight."

Gobber pulls a lever, raising the cross beam on the last of the doors.

"Whoa, wait! Aren't you gonna teach us first!?"

"I believe in learning on the job."

BAM! A GRONCKLE thunders out of its cave, charging into the ring like an irate rhino. The recruits scramble in every direction. Except for Ruffnut and Tuffnut who rush toward it, like pumped-up rodeo clowns.

"Today is about survival. If you get blasted, you're dead. Quick, what's the first thing you're going to need?"

"A doctor?"

"Plus five speed?"

"A shield."

"Shields. Go."

The recruits scramble for shields, finding them scattered around the ring.

"Your most important piece of equipment is your shield. If you must make a choice between a sword or a shield, take the shield."

Hiccup struggles to lift his. Gobber helps him and sends him running. Ruff and Tuff stand amidst a dozen shields. But only one has a skull painted on it. They both grab it.

"Get your hands off my shield!"

"There are like a million shields!"

"Take that one, it has a flower on it. Girls like flowers."

Ruffnut uses the shield to bash Tuffnut in the face. He doesn't let go.

"Oops, now this one has blood on it."

The Gronckle takes aim at the distracted twins. Blam! The shield is blasted out of both of their hands. Tuff and Ruff spin like tops and go down.

"Tuffnut, Ruffnut, you're out!"

"What?!"

The Gronckle scoops up a pile of rocks and swallows them back. The teens gather on the far side of the ring.

"Those shields are good for another thing. Noise. Make lots of it to throw off a dragon's aim."

The kids scoop up weapons and begin hammering on their shields. The Gronckle shakes its head at the clatter.

"All dragons have a limited number of shots. How many does a Gronckle have?"

"Five!"

"No, six."

"Correct, six. That's one for each of you!"

"I really don't think my parents would-"

BAM! Fishlegs has his shield blasted away.

"Fishlegs, out."

Gobber spots Hiccup hiding from the Gronckle's molten slugs.

"Hiccup, get in there!"

Astrid bounces on her heels, ready to dodge a blast. Snotlout appears, trying to hit on her.

"So anyway I'm moving into my parents' basement. You should come by sometime to work out. You look like you work out-"

She cartwheels out of the way, allowing a shot to shoot past her and hit Snotlout's shield. He's blasted onto his back.

"Snotlout! You're done!"

Astrid rolls to a stop beside Hiccup, who stirs awkwardly, trying to look cool.

"So, I guess it's just you and me huh?"

"No. Just you."

Astrid rolls away. A split-second later a lava slug knocks Hiccup's shield clear off of his arm. Hiccup is exposed.

"One shot left!"

Hiccup panics and chases after his shield as it rolls across the ring. The sudden movement sends the Gronckle chasing after him, leaving Astrid in the clear.

"Hiccup!"

The Gronckle drives straight toward Hiccup, pinning him against the wall. It opens its mouth and cocks its tail, ready to fire point-blank. Gobber lunges in and hooks the Gronckle's mouth at the last second, causing its head to jerk back and fire against the stone wall above Hiccup's head.

"And that's six! Go back to bed, ya overgrown sausage! You'll get another chance, don't you worry."

Slam! Lock. Gobber turns to the recruits.

"Remember... a dragon will always, always go for the kill."

He hoists Hiccup to his feet and walks off. Hiccup looks overhead to see a steaming pit in the solid stone wall.