So this is a shorter chapter, but I will be posting a longer third one so I hope it makes up for it. It seems so unreal to me that people have actually enjoyed my work, and I'd like to thank everyone who has given their time to read this.

Katia leant against the boulder, staring after the creature. So many feared it, and lived for the glory of killing one, and yet here she was, freeing one and coming within inches of it without being murdered herself. The way it had tilted its head and stared at her, as if taking this new, different human.

She felt angered at herself for being so selfish, so careless. What had happened to the peaceful at heart young girl that she'd learned and trained to be? Her breathing was still heavy, and was tense from the last few minutes' happenings. She swept her bangs from her forehead, while stumbling forwards, feeling a little faint. Picking up the broken blades from her axe and the splintering handle, not really seeing what she was facing, feeling her way over the mossy stones and leafy grass.

Katia leapt over pebbles, satchel slung over her shoulder. Nerves tingled inside her stomach, flittering around like summer butterflies. To the village, she Berk. She planned on observing the community, to see if it was safe to go in, and at what time. Fur cloak draped around her, she paused now and again to listen out for straying Vikings or any children playing. If her memory was correct, the younger ones enjoyed swimming in the creek just off the side of the Dark Oak Monument. So far, nothing. It gave her both reassurance and more worries at once.

As she neared the village, the voices got louder, and the butterflies inside got more and more impatient. She hadn't been in any contact with other humans for such a long time, and it made her shake. Looking up, the mountain peak that twisted dangerously over Berk came into view, just as she remembered. Perfect, she thought to herself. She would have to avoid the miserable old Mildew's hut and farm, not to mention pesky Fungus the sheep. If he still existed, that was. He had been there ever since she remembered, wreaking havoc in amongst the Berkians.

Katia pulled out her two blades and rope from her satchel as she neared the base of the mountain. Dangerously close to the villagers, she climbed the mountain, finding certain footing on the sharp rocks which started to cut through even the tough, thick layer of leather wrapping on her feet. Swaying fiercely in the stabbing winds, she gripped tighter with her hands, piercing the stone and hard ground with her blades, blunting them drastically. The air whistling in her ears, giving her a sharp pain in her head.

When she found herself standing above the ground, higher up than she'd ever dared climb before in her life, she packed her now useless blades and the fragile rope back in her bag, and enjoyed the cool breeze that plucked at her skin gently, much tamer than the winds that tore her apart on the way up. Digging her feet deep into the dirt, she held onto the stones that stuck out from the edge, and peered down at the work below her. Huts of all sorts, painted with brightly coloured patterns on the overhangs. She could make out faces on the ground, if she focused hard enough, and leant forwards. Men and women carried weapons; axes and war hammers in their overly large hands. Villagers pushing filled wheelbarrows across the streets. Work was being done on many of the huts, repairs from the earlier raid.

Something pained Katia inside her though. All of their faces were fierce with the standard 'Viking' look if she really squinted, something that was a very distant memory if she closed her eyes and thought hard. Yells that she couldn't quite make out were echoing against the rock. Standing back from the edge, after seeing the village from such a distance above, the feeling of dizziness washed over her. There were so many of them, and only one of her. Only one that had been raised by the wilderness, only one that hadn't grown up with the saying 'kill or be killed' forged into her head. Only one who stood out so much.

This was where she was born. She couldn't just ignore it, not now. If the night fury hadn't managed to somehow grow an extra tail fin and flown off within the last hours, it would still be there, waiting for her. She could help him, he would be the first.

Katia stood over the edge, when her long mass of raven hair fell loose from its complicated braid that she reworked every so often. A smile left her face, and widened as she remembered. This was who she was. Wild and bold and brave. She could do anything and everything she wanted. The world gave her freedom from work and responsibilities. She didn't have to do anything the people told her to do, she didn't have to be who she was told to be. She could fly away, almost. She felt the warm light kiss her pale skin, the breeze playfully teasing her waist length hair, blowing it away from her face, whipping out behind her.

She found herself skipping warm-heartedly across what little space she had atop the mountain. She carried on, her eyes closing. She didn't need eyes to see around her, to feel. Everything was right in her world, she told herself, yet she didn't need telling that again, not really.

But little did she know, that down below, in the village, an auburn locked boy was strolling across to where he was needed, when he looked up through the light mist that never left the mountain, and spotted a bright-eyed girl with flowing, dark hair standing on the teetering mountain top.

I hope you all enjoyed this, but if you have any suggestions, please leave them as all constructive criticism is taken into consideration, but please no flames.

Note: I give out no spoilers to anyone, and no amount of begging will change this.

Again, I would like to thank you, but I'll see you guys later :D