I stirred as the door opened, bringing a brief chill with the guard from last night. Today was going to be a long day. I had to sign the treaty and politick my way off of Berserker Island. I had to somehow get my dad onto the boat we arrived in and sail back to Berk. And all of this had to be done on no sleep. I had tossed and turned in worry the entire night, but I never rested.

As I sat up with a tired yawn, the guard walked in holding something in his left hand. "G'morning, Hiccup." He stopped about ten feet away and let me stand up.

I glanced over at my dad, who was still sleeping on his back, snoring quietly. Turned my attention back to the guard.

"I forgot the formalities yesterday," he said. He stepped forward, offering his right hand. "I'm Henrik. Gunnar's cousin."

I took his hand and shook it. "Hiccup," I said without thinking.

He let go. "Yes, I already know who you are."

I winced slightly as I realized what I told him. Definitely going to be a long day.

He held up what looked to be a light brown branch of some sort that split wildly in several different directions. It was maybe the size of his open hand. "Keep this with you."

He gave the object to me. It felt like a branch. Parts of it were peeling slightly, and each section was about the thickness of my thumb. "What is it?" I asked him.

"Ginger. It'll prevent you and your dad from becoming seasick while sailing back to Berk." Henrik glanced at my dad. "He'll definitely need it, considering his head."

I nodded, my trust in Henrik having progressed from not believing him at all to keeping quiet about what I thought. I still didn't believe him about Dagur's supposed future actions or the ginger, but I was now the primary representative of Berk. I couldn't deny him openly unless I wanted to be the cause of a war. I made a show of placing the ginger on top of my knapsack.

Henrik glanced at my peg for a beat and said, "Last year Dagur came back with news you had a peg leg. I was expecting a wooden peg, but why is yours so…complicated?"

I had awoken enough to avoid discussing Toothless at all. He was the reason why my peg was so fancy, but I figured I could skirt around the truth. I shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "I got bored pretty fast with a wooden peg. I like to make improvements on things when I have the chance."

"It's spring-loaded," Henrik said, probing.

"Well, yeah. That's why it's so intricate. The springs act as a cushion so that my knee doesn't hurt as much when I take a step," I said confidently. That was about half the truth.

"I've never seen iron like that," he continued.

I would have never guessed a Berserker to be that observant. Gronckle iron is much more lustrous than standard cast iron, but not even Trader Johann had noticed. Or if he had, ne never mentioned it or acted like he knew. I was thankful for the Gronckle iron because it was much stronger than traditional iron, it melted more uniformly, and (most important) it didn't rust.

"Uh…" I started. "I've been playing with different additives with iron." I lifted my peg slightly, as if that would help him understand.

Henrik nodded slowly, staring at my peg. "Oh…okay," he said haltingly. It seemed like he didn't believe what I was telling him. He kept staring at the peg for a moment. "You know, there are a few Vikings here who would love something like that."

"I'm not going to design pegs for them," I said quickly. "We can't stay away from Berk for that long." I motioned between myself and my dad as I explained why I didn't want to be here any longer.

Henrik shrugged a little. "Maybe next time," he conceded.

"Maybe," I repeated. And left it at that.

He beckoned me with his hand as he began walking. "You still need to sign the treaty. Normally, we'd have your father sign it, but Dagur is willing to make an exception today."

Is that what Dagur actually said, or is it what Henrik wants me to believe? I thought. If he never discussed it with Dagur, I'd have to explain my dad was incapacitated for the time being, and we had to return to Berk soon.

I followed Henrik as he opened the door. We walked a short distance toward the interior of Berserker Island. I glanced around the village briefly, looking for different things. Still couldn't spot a forge. There was no central plaza like we had on Berk. The paths connecting houses to each other were somewhat wider than what I was used to.

As we trudged slightly uphill toward Henrik's destination, a large black shape caught my attention. I froze, my legs having stopped working. The dragon we were hunting yesterday was splayed on the ground for everyone, including Odin, to see. It wasn't even a dragon anymore. It was a blood eagle. I was absolutely certain about that.

What was formerly the dragon was lying on its front, its legs spread out. The dragon's head had a sword shoved into the skull from the top, nearly hilted. Its eyes were open, staring at nothing. Its ribs were pointing skyward, having been ripped from the backbone. It looked like a reverse set of wings; instead of spreading from the back, the "wings" came from the dragon's sides. Two red masses were skewered in the middle of the ribs, jogging my memory about what I had forgotten.

Lay the enemy prone. Cut the ribs at the backbone. Peel the ribs away from the spine. Pull the lungs from the chest. Skewer the lungs on the ribs. And display the sacrifice for Odin to see.

I tried to look away for even a brief second, but my eyes wouldn't unlock from the scene. Where the ribs weren't covered in flesh and blood, they were ghost-white. They all had jagged tips, meaning Dagur had used his bare hands to break the ribs away from the backbone.

My knees quivered, my vision went blurry, and a second later I collapsed. I hurled again as I hit the ground, spitting out clear liquid that burned my throat and tasted horrible.

Henrik said something I couldn't understand, but he reached down and hoisted me up using my arms and chest. He dragged me toward the same house where we had first seen Dagur yesterday. And stopped about ten feet away from the entrance.

He looked straight into my eyes and said quietly, "Hiccup, I need you to focus. Please."

Slowly, I realized I was looking at a living human, not a mutilated dragon. I nodded weakly, locking eyes with him.

"Last year, Dagur said you protected him from a Night Fury attack. Is that true?"

I began panicking as my mind gained a small amount of traction. Everybody on Berserker Island was going to know the dragon attack on Berk last year was staged. "Y-yes," I lied weakly.

Henrik glanced away from me, making a show of checking whether anyone was listening. Looked back at me. "I don't believe that. Not after your reaction just now," he said, jerking a thumb toward the former dragon. He paused for a second, and then I saw his eyes narrow. He must have noticed I was worried. "I don't know what you do on Berk, but it doesn't appear you just like to tinker."

I had no idea what to say or do. Couldn't run for the hills because there was a peace treaty waiting for my signature. And I couldn't confess to Henrik about Toothless. Dagur wouldn't take long to find out about him, and he'd show up unannounced at Berk soon, ready to hunt a real Night Fury down. I stayed silent, not intentionally, but because I was caught with gripping panic.

"Come with me," he said quietly. Henrik dragged me away from the house, away from the blood eagle sacrifice, and away from the village.

The sun was beginning to rise on my left side, so we were headed south, away from the docks. Henrik stopped behind a wooden structure that was about the size of the house Dagur was in yesterday. But I smelled something metallic, and a gentle wave of heat met my right side. It was the forge I had been trying to see for the last day or so. I relaxed slightly, not because of Henrik, but I was in a spot that was comfortable to me.

"Hiccup," he started. He was staring directly into my eyes, and I noticed a tinge of worry. "I need your honest answer. What do you do with dragons?"

"Why do you need my answer for that?" I asked quietly, matching his tone of voice.

Henrik glanced around us again, looking for anyone who might be listening. He seemed genuine about his motions. "I think the dragon attack you saved Dagur from last year wasn't real. Am I right?"

I swallowed. "It...it was real," I lied. I did my best to hold eye contact with him. Looking away was a certainty I was lying.

"And if I told you I didn't want to hunt dragons like the rest of the Berserkers?"

I swallowed again, still worried. "I-I'd say that's your choice," I finally answered cryptically.

"Hiccup, I've been wondering if we're doing the wrong thing, killing dragons for sport."

I focused on Henrik. He was starting to sound like me when I found Toothless in the cove. "What are you getting at?" I asked, my expression taking on a slightly different tone.

Henrik took a quick breath and exhaled. Glanced around us again. "Come with me," he said.

He had already asked me to follow him once, so I guessed he was thinking hard about something. I followed anyway because I was the representative of Berk on this island.

Henrik led me past the forge, toward an area of wilderness on the island. I had noticed Berserker Island wasn't as jagged of an experience as Berk. All of the slopes were much gentler, and the island seemed larger than Berk too. The vegetation here was roughly the same as what I was used to, with several pine and fir trees dotting the island. The area Henrik was entering, though, was far denser forest than I was used to.

Henrik stopped maybe a hundred feet in or so. I looked back and could still see the village from here. But it would have probably been difficult to find us in here from the outside.

"Here," he said. He was looking at a rounded depression in the foliage, probably made by some large-ish animal for sleeping. "She likes this spot."

Who's 'she'? I thought.

As if on cue, Henrik looked back at me and noticed my confusion. "I have to keep her a secret," he said.

"I'm sorry?" I slowly asked.

"Just follow me," he said for the third time.

I shrugged, but didn't say a word. Henrik was being awfully cryptic about this entire production, and I was starting to get a strong feeling it was about some kind of dragon, thanks to the clues he dropped.

We must have trudged through about a mile of forest, if not longer. I was slightly out of breath when Henrik stopped again. He slowly peeked around a large pine and stayed there for a second. When he turned back toward me, he had that sparkle in his eyes. "No quick movements. Be ready to run just in case."

As Henrik turned back around, I grinned. I didn't even have to see what he was talking about, and I knew it was a dragon.

The entire time from when I began taking care of Toothless up until last night, I had wondered whether there were other people like me. Other people like the Vikings who lived on Berk. I had never found anyone like that, until now.

I followed Henrik into a small clearing, where a bipedal dragon was sniffing him. He was standing too close to that dragon for it to simply be wild, so I guessed he must have had plenty of contact with her.

The dragon was too small to be a Deadly Nadder. That was certain. She was still taller than Henrik though. Her wings, had both of them been intact, were much smaller than a Nadder's. Her right wing was folded at an awkward angle, so I figured she had some kind of injury in the past that never quite healed. The wing also looked like part of it had been ripped away. The dragon had two small arms, but neither of them looked dilapidated or injured. She had a pronounced underbite with sharp teeth extending upward from her lower jaw, although her teeth weren't as exaggerated as the supposed Night Fury Dagur had killed last night. The dragon had a frill on the back of her head, and her skin was mostly yellow with a shade of green blended in. Well, at least until she looked at me.

When the dragon made eye contact with me, her skin changed from yellow to a very slight red. And I recognized in her subtle change of facial expression that I was something new in her environment. She didn't seem to like change. Henrik was her idea of normal, and she probably viewed any other human nearby as a threat.

Instinctively, I tensed just a little, ready to run for cover. But I stayed put, waiting until the very last minute to get out of there. The dragon bobbed her head slightly, her frill extended, making a soft, high-pitched rumble in her throat. I couldn't tell whether she was making a threat display or if she was simply trying to decide what to do with me. I caught a glimpse of her tail swishing through the air, a single fin at the tip of it.

I had been around dragons enough to know most of the basic rules. First, never ever present yourself as a threat. That being said, you can't act like you're scared either. There's a middle ground that has to be established, and it has to be done quickly. The most reliable tactic I had found so far was to stand generally straight and keep neutral eye contact. This worked with most dragons, although I had found some exceptions. Like Changewings, which just so conveniently have this pesky ability to hypnotize.

Second, you let the dragon approach. Let it take the first step. A dragon is always more calm when it feels like it has control of its surroundings.

And third, always be ready to defend yourself. Or run. Because the world is never a perfect little idyll, and dragons typically spook just as easily as other animals.

The dragon turned to look at Henrik for a brief second and then turned her attention back to me. She took a halting step forward with her right leg, followed by a small lurch with her left. She had what looked to be a clubbed foot on her right side.

I saw the focus in her eyes as she kept her gaze on me. She had her head turned just slightly to her right because her eyes were more on the sides of her head. Her eyes were yellow with slits for pupils, kinda like a cat's. As she approached, I noticed a small horn at the tip of her snout. And her skin was slowly changing from a light red to more of a purple color.

Her skin reflects her mood, I thought. With Henrik, her skin was mostly yellow. She probably trusted him. When I showed up, she changed to red. Because she perceived me as a threat. And now, her skin was purple. Maybe because she was curious?

After three halting steps with her right foot, the dragon was finally close enough for me to touch. She was probably nine or ten feet tall at full height. She slowly bent toward me and began sniffing at my chest. I stayed absolutely still, letting her decide what she wanted to do. I wasn't going to touch her until she gave me permission. So I waited. Felt her breath as she breathed out. But as she found my peg, I didn't feel like I was in danger anymore. As long as I didn't make any sudden movements, I figured I would be okay. I had learned from experience that a dragon will typically decide to attack within about three seconds during the first encounter with someone. After that, the dragon will either quit the area or investigate further.

She used her arms for balance as she inspected my peg, so I waited for her to finish with it. I always tried to make sure Toothless could see what I was doing around him, and I guessed this dragon would be the same. There was no need to startle her.

The dragon brought her head back up and stood there, looking at me, unmoving for a second. I took that as my cue to approach. I slowly raised my left hand and put my palm on the side of her chest. And left it there, feeling her tension slowly melt away. Success. There aren't very many feelings better than when a dragon warms up to you.

"You're beautiful," I whispered to her. And I meant it. I smiled, mirroring her relaxation.

Henrik nodded. "I knew there was more to you," he said, his inflection betraying a grin. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

I shrugged slightly as I rubbed the dragon's side, watching her skin slowly morph back to a yellowish color. "What kind of dragon is she?" I asked, avoiding his observation.

"Don't know. We've seen several of them before, but she's lame and can't fly. I think they're pack animals that abandoned her."

I looked back at her wing and foot. "What happened to her?"

"The foot's probably just the way she is," Henrik said. "I think the wing is from some kind of fight a long time ago." He slowly approached the dragon again and began working on her other side. The dragon sighed, relaxing under our touch. "I come out here in secret to take care of her. I guess if another Berserker finds her, she'll have lived the last part of her life happy."

Henrik said that last comment like he knew her time was limited. I stopped rubbing the dragon's side as I remembered those exact feelings when I was keeping Toothless a secret. Deep down inside, I knew there was no way I could keep a secret like him. I should have been accepting of that fact, but all I could think of at the time was how I didn't want to lose Toothless. Not after he had changed my life.

I was guessing Henrik felt the same way about this dragon. Even though she was essentially an invalid to her species, Henrik saw a friend in her anyway. He gave her a second chance at life, even if it was hopeless. Just like I did with Toothless.

"How many more Berserkers are like you?" I asked him.

Henrik's expression went blank for a second. "A few, I guess. I don't trust anyone enough to be around her though."

"Did you name her?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Never really thought about it." He paused with a deep breath. "I don't think she's gonna live much longer anyway."

He said that last sentence like he was trying to distance himself somehow. Like how his goal was to make sure nobody saw how distraught he would be when someone killed her.

I looked down for a brief moment, my hand still in contact with her side. Turned my attention back toward the dragon, and moved my hand underneath her deformed wing. She leaned into the pressure with a contented sigh, telling me she liked what I was doing. I glanced at her face and smiled again. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was next to Toothless.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," I said quietly.

Henrik looked at me. "It's not your fault. I found her starving one day. I went back to the village and brought her some fish just thinking she didn't need to starve to death. But when I put the fish down in front of her, she didn't eat right away. She stared at me for a few seconds before she started. Like she was thanking me, I guess. I came back the next day and fed her again. And after the third day, she let me touch her." He paused with a sigh. "Dagur's been telling us to hunt down any dragons we see. He says they are only good for their meat, and if we let them live, they'll burn our village down." He paused again. "But what he's saying doesn't match her." He motioned toward the dragon.

I felt tears forming in my eyes. Tried to keep them hidden because I didn't want to be seen as weak for the time being. But Henrik was describing almost exactly what I went through nearly two years ago. Whether he liked it or not, he brought back a flood of memories. I turned back toward his dragon and stroked her flank again, trying to hide what I was feeling. She was incredibly calm, considering her foot and wing.

"You're not alone," I finally said after a long silence.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He had a confused look on his face.

"The exact same thing happened to me with a dragon."

"Wh-what?" he asked. His tone told me he couldn't believe someone else was like him.

I nodded. "I wanted to kill a dragon to fit in with the rest of Berk. And I actually shot one down. When I found him, I realized I had permanently crippled him."

Henrik was absolutely silent and unblinking.

"He can't fly without me anymore. I kept him a secret, but people on Berk eventually figured it out."

"Did…did they kill him?" he asked quietly.

I sighed. "Almost. It took us fighting against a gargantuan dragon to convince everyone to keep him alive."

"I don't think there's one of those nearby," he said.

"Yeah, don't go that way. I lost my leg because of it. But you can find someone you trust here. Have them give your dragon a fish or two. It'll be slow, but it's possible."

"What's possible?"

"What I'm trying to tell you is that you can live with dragons nearby. They don't need to be hunted or killed." I paused. "My dragon's living proof of it."

"What kind of dragon?" he asked quickly.

"I'll show you if you come to Berk. And if you keep it a secret from the rest of your tribe."

"It's a deal," he said without a pause. And grinned, that sparkle in his eye returning.

I looked back up at his dragon, whose skin was still yellow. Probably her comfort color. She stayed where she was, soaking up our attention. Completely relaxed.

"You still need to sign the treaty," Henrik said after a while, bringing me back to reality.

I sighed. I knew I'd have to walk past that reminder that Henrik's chief had the exact opposite thoughts about dragons he did. But I didn't have a choice. "Okay," I said under my breath. "Let's go."

Henrik brushed the back of his hand underneath the dragon's lower jaw. She gave a short moan as we walked away, her head tilted just slightly. It looked like she was wondering why we had to leave her.

It's always hard to leave a dragon, even for a short time, I thought.

We trekked through the forest on our way back to the village, Henrik leading in a slightly different path than we took toward his dragon. As we walked, I had probably the strangest thought I've ever had.

I was actually looking forward to the Berserkers' next visit to Berk.