I was surprised. Normally, I'd be "pleasantly surprised," but I wasn't about to go that far yet. I was on Berserker Island, and I expected it to be a cesspool of an island. I expected drunk Vikings running amok and shouting at the top of their lungs. I expected to see their latest victim strung up somewhere near the docks and dripping blood. I expected to see a grimy village that nobody really wanted to take care of. They're Berserkers. There's no time to clean up the area when you're busy killing things, right?

The village on Berserker Island was actually somewhat clean. Okay, it was almost welcoming. Maybe even more so than Berk, if for no other reason than we had dragons to look after. The Berserkers didn't. So it stood to reason they could keep the village livable.

There were no drunk Vikings running amok and shouting at the top of their lungs. The people around us were generally civilized, making room for the two guards and my dad to walk through. Most of them looked at us for a second, then continued on their way. I brought up the rear and stayed close behind. If I left enough of a gap between us, I thought someone would block me off from where I needed to be. Which was probably near Dagur.

I only afforded myself cursory glances as we walked through the village. After noticing we had taken several turns and walked for a much longer time than I had expected, I realized the guards were taking us on a tour of the island. Just like we did for Dagur last year. When he announced to the world he was "bored" a zillion times.

I had no idea how much of the village I had missed. Maybe at least half? Glanced around for anything that might look like a forge. I was so used to working in the forge at Berk that I used it as a major landmark for myself. So, instinctively, I did the same thing here, but I didn't see anything that caught my interest.

One of the guards said something to my dad and stopped, pointing roughly upward. I was still trying to spot a forge when I collided into the guard's backside. He stumbled forward with a grunt, interrupting his explanation. And turned to face me.

"S-sorry…" I said quietly. I didn't make direct eye contact with him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glaring at me. He held his gaze for a beat. "What was I talking about before he stopped me?" The guard looked at me the entire time, but my dad knew the question was addressed to him.

"You were showing me where the dragons come from during attacks," my dad said quietly. I could tell he was at least slightly embarrassed by my presence.

"Can I continue, or is he going to stab me next time?" the guard asked pointedly.

"It won't happen again," my dad said.

The guard leaned forward just as I realized I was trying to involuntarily shrink. He knew he was intimidating me, and he took full advantage of it.

"S-sorry," I whispered again. "I…I'll pay closer attention."

The guard sneered at me for a moment and then wheeled around. "Right," he said. "So, like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, the dragons come from that direction. Northwest."

The guards started walking again. My dad followed suit. I took a deep breath and begrudgingly put my right foot in front of my peg. Started walking with a little more distance between us.

"Anyway, we need to renew the peace treaty, but it's also good timing for us." Both of the guards stopped. So did my dad. And I was paying attention this time, so I stopped as well. I noticed the guard I had bumped into was glaring at me, making sure I stopped before colliding with him again.

"How is it good timing for you?" my dad asked.

"There's a Night Fury that lives on this island," the guard who had accosted me said. He said it matter-of-factly. And he sounded like he wasn't as frustrated as he was a moment ago.

My dad saw the two guards turn forward, looking where they were going. He turned back to me briefly with his eyebrows raised in disbelief. I shrugged, not knowing what to do or say. He turned back around, just as one of the guards returned his eyes to my dad.

"We don't know anyone else who has ever seen a Night Fury…" the guard said, pausing for dramatic effect. I knew exactly where he was going with this. "…Except you."

"And what are we supposed to do about it?" I blurted out without thinking.

Both of the guards stopped. My dad stopped as well. All three of them turned to face me. The two guards glared at me. My dad simply looked at me. He was telling me with his eyes not to say anything else. The proverbial bell had already been rung once, and there was no way to un-ring it.

"Were we talking to you?" one of the guards asked.

I finally noticed something about the guards. Both of them had close-cropped beards. Well-maintained. Unlike most of what I saw on Berk. One had dark brown hair, the other lighter brown. The guard who asked me that question was the one with the dark brown hair and beard. Not too far from the color of my hair. The same one who glared at me earlier for bumping into him.

"No, sir," I said in deference. But I held my eye contact this time.

The guard leaned in slightly, trying the same tactic as earlier. I didn't budge. He sneered at me again and turned back to my dad. We were still stopped somewhere in the middle of the village.

"The Night Fury," my dad prompted.

"Yes," the guard continued. "We need your expertise with it tonight."

I put two and two together. The Berserkers claimed they needed us for a "Night Fury" problem, presumably underground. One of the guards had mentioned a blood eagle.

They wanted to hunt this dragon and turn it into a blood eagle. I guessed they wanted to haul it into the middle of town, where everyone including Odin could see. And they probably wanted it alive. Because it wouldn't be a proper sacrifice if the dragon were dead before starting on its "wings."

As the guards turned toward the center of the Berserkers' village, my dad shot a look at me. Don't say a word. Don't even hint at saying anything. I nodded once back at him. Message received and understood.

We continued walking mostly in silence. I generally looked down, not really seeing anything the village had to offer. At some point during the tour, one of the guards pushed open a door to what looked like a large house. Before stepping inside, I finally took another cursory glance around the village and noticed it was different from Berk. There was no communal hall. And I still couldn't find anything that looked like a forge. I returned my vision to the area in front of myself and stepped over the threshold.

Inside, I saw a welcoming fire in hearth. And framed by the yellowish-orange light was none other than Dagur the Deranged. He was sitting at a long table, seemingly waiting.

"Hey, Hiccup!" he shouted. Dagur quickly stood, made a swift motion of stepping toward me and hurling something from his right arm. I shot straight toward the floor, not thinking twice about it. After a few seconds, he cackled. "You're too easy," he said with a haughty laugh. It took me a few seconds to realize he hadn't thrown anything at me.

"Dagur, thank you for your hospitality," my dad said cordially. He walked up to Dagur and moved to shake hands with him.

Dagur looked my dad up and down from where he was standing. Extended his right hand and squeezed. I saw the muscles and veins in his forearm bulging, trying to crush my dad's hand. Eventually, he let go of the pressure. My dad wasn't showing any sign of pain. "Yes, Stoick," he said, trying to affect an air of importance around him. "I see Johann is good for his word. And you have heard what we're doing tonight, correct?" My dad nodded silently, looking at him.

I slowly got off the floor and stood. Invisibly. This was how I spent the first decade and a half of my life. Pushed around and invisible. But it was peculiar that the Berserkers wanted me here, so that made me important, right? So why was I invisible to them all of a sudden?

I was thinking about all this when I heard Dagur chuckle. A little too obvious, but it caught my attention nevertheless. "You're right about that, Stoick," he said. "But I'm afraid you arrived too early, with wind blowing from the north. My guards will show you to your housing here. They'll come to get you when we're ready tonight. Is that fair?"

This was Dagur like I had never seen him. All of the limited interactions I had with him were acting like I could tolerate his sadistic nature, but here he was, acting refined.

"Yes, thank you again, Dagur," my dad said.

The two guards turned us around and paraded us out of the house or whatever it was. A short distance away was a wooden structure that looked somewhat similar to the houses we had on Berk. A steeply sloping roof, open windows, and an ornate-looking wooden structure where the roof pitches met. I couldn't tell exactly what it was before the guards pushed me in behind my dad.

"We'll come to get you when the chief is ready," the lighter-haired one said. My dad nodded. They closed the door behind them and left.

I looked around for a second and heard my dad heave a massive sigh. "I'm sorry, Hiccup," he said quietly.

I turned toward him. "For what?"

"For letting them do that to you."

I shrugged, looking slightly down. "You couldn't stop them?"

"We play by their rules," he reiterated. "We have to keep them happy."

Fine, I thought. There was a pause in our fragmented conversation. "Was the guard serious when he was talking about the blood eagle?"

My dad simply nodded. He knew I was going to ask that question at some point. I looked slightly away from him, thinking. Wondering why the Berserkers were so civilized. They were almost welcoming, just like we were to them. But they were very well aware that we weren't going to attack them if they did something questionable.

"Confused?" he asked me after a long silence. I looked at him and nodded. "Dagur brings all of his warriors with him when he visits us. He does it for show."

"What?" I asked, more thoroughly confused.

"Most of what he does is for show," my dad repeated.

"So…I don't have to worry about his, you know, his threats?" I asked. Still confused.

"You still have to worry," he said back. "It's when they go crazy."

"Crazy…how?"

"Berserk," he clarified. "Once they're in that state of mind, not even Odin himself can stop them."

For a moment, I imagined Dagur with an extreme focus, unmindful of anything around him. Striding past anyone and anything, heading straight for the Night Fury he was so concerned about.

"It's not like what you think," my dad said quietly, like he was reading my mind. "You won't see anything else like it." There was a hint of him being impressed by what he remembered. "When Dagur's berserk, he's so focused on what he wants that he forgets everything else around him."

"Um…okay?" I said. It sounded like what I was imagining.

"If he's trying to kill a dragon, he doesn't sneak up on it. He doesn't swallow. He doesn't control his breathing or voice. I've seen him bite through a wooden shield before. He will kill anyone who gets in his way."

I froze for a second. That's what berserk means. And I would have guessed my dad had forgotten a detail or two about it.

"That's why I didn't want you to join me for these visits. Every time, Dagur went berserk for some reason. Usually something about dragons."

I should have been thankful for the past about two visits my dad and Gobber had to make to Berserker Island. And I was. I just never realized why my dad took these trips in secret. Or why he never told me anything about it. Probably nothing but nightmares on this island when Dagur worked himself into a rage. Come to think of it, Johann never told me about any of this either. Maybe he was hiding it from me too.

My mind began racing. There had to be signs. There had to be some kind of warning from Dagur, maybe body language that tipped everyone off to one of his Berserk moods. "How does it start?" I finally asked.

"Simple. He drinks ale or mead until he's drunk."

"That's it?"

"Mostly. Every time I've seen him berserk, he was shouting about something he didn't like. Usually some dragon. Then the drinking started."

I wondered if I needed to know that information now. I would have preferred my dad to keep it a secret because hearing what he said made me edgy and tense. But had I not known, it would probably be the death of me. Because I'd probably try to dissuade Dagur from hunting after a while. And he'd see me as a distraction while berserk. Something in his way. Something to be killed because I was in his way.

I realized this hunt wasn't going to end until either the dragon or Dagur were dead. And it all was going to start tonight.

"Try to get some rest," my dad suggested as I stood there, lost in thought.

I nodded and shuffled toward a simple wooden bed that had been set up for one person. There was another bed similar to it on the other side of the house. There were no divisions, just one floor, a very plain layout.

I lay down and let my mind wander. Probably wasn't going to get any sleep, but I tried anyway. I closed my eyes, hoping I could stay out of Dagur's way tonight.