When the dragons returned to Berk, it was dusk the next day as opposed to being night again. Stoick saw them coming and was quickly joined by Gobber. On their right, Dagur was cackling in anticipation. They would finally test out their new plan. The first few dragons only focused on the Vikings. A Deadly Nadder charged for Stoick with its jaws open. The chief grabbed the outside of its mouth, using this grip to slam it into the ground. As soon as it was there, Dagur leapt onto it, executing a clean slash with an ax. He had just learned it the previous day and was happy to use the new trick. As Gobber clobbered a Monstrous Nightmare, Dagur's gaze went to some Hideous Zipplebacks that were near one of the pieces of the root.

The dragons were snarling at one another. These snarls changed to gas being spewed and ignited. They were far enough away from the buildings that no Berkian or structure was affected by the blasts, but they injured one another. A new sound joined them–it was coming from the sky. Three Nadders were battling over some Dragon Root in the trees and a Gronckle was caught in the middle, trying to get away from their fire. A proud grin spread across Dagur's face. He spotted a Nightmare with a torn wing and pointed to it.

"That one's down! We can take it out."

Stoick did not have time to respond before the boy darted for the downed beast. The chief smirked and followed after him. He could not ignore the swell of pride he felt as he watched the ax slashes be put to good use. Before the reptile could step, Dagur sliced through the tendon in its leg. Furiously, it opened its mouth to blast him with fire. Stoick blocked the attack with a shield, then moved forward. While he got them closer to the dragon, Dagur stabbed it again in the heart this time. It crashed down and the duo saw that they were not the only ones using this strategy. The other Berkians had remembered the plan, focusing their energy on tired out dragons so that they would not move away from the root and regain their senses. It was difficult for the reptiles to direct the flames at the Vikings and each other. Nearly as soon as the raid had begun, it ended. The Berkians hardly knew what to do with themselves.

"Is it…over for now?" Gobber asked, shocked.

Stoick looked around at the island, listening for any sounds of growls or fighting. "It seems that way."

The chief glanced down when he heard an excited cheer.

"It worked!" Dagur exclaimed excitedly. "That was even better than I expected! That Monstrous Nightmare was all like…" He stopped to snarl, "and you were all like, 'Fire? Ha! That won't stop Stoick the Vast!' Then, I was like, 'You bet it won't! Watch us become its nightmare!'"

Dagur laughed almost maniacally as he stabbed the air. After a few more jabs, he grinned up at the Berkian.

"We made a great team."

"We did," Stoick agreed. "I've never fought alongside someone your age."

"Think we could tag team again when they come back?"

"It would be a shame not to," the father said, a smile on his face.

He turned to look at the Berkians there. A few of them had injuries, but they were minor and most importantly, no one had died. There was hardly even any damage done to the island.

"Look what happened with your idea, lad," Stoick said warmly. "It protected Berk from the dragons. We won't even need to spend the remainder of the day working on repairs."

Gobber had heard his friend and approached, nodding. "If I had to rebuild Bucket's hut one more time this month, I was going to tell him to sleep in the barn. I'm sure he'd appreciate you stopping that."

A bright smile lit up Dagur's face as a few more Berkians came around to congratulate him on a job well done. It seemed so unfamiliar to be appreciated for anything. No one on Berserker Island used or even liked his ideas. They were all too "strange" or "deranged" for their preferences. Yet, on Berk, the Vikings were not so picky. They wanted to hear and use what might work and his plan did just that. He nearly expected it to go wrong at a sudden moment. Something had to have been missed. Maybe the Dragon Root was really poisonous to Vikings, so someone would be killed and they would blame the newcomer for his reckless suggestion. That did not happen. The morning made its way to the afternoon and no one became disappointed in or upset with the boy.

"I'm going to head into the village to do some chiefing," Stoick stated, bringing Dagur out of his thoughts.

Since there were no more dragons to attack, the younger redhead had decided to spend some time, seeing how strong his stabs could get. The log pile outside the leader's home proved to be a fine test subject. Dagur looked up at Stoick, intrigued.

"What are you going to be doing?"

"Mostly answering questions today," the man answered. "I know that's not for everyone, so if you'd rather do something else while I'm in the Great Hall, I'd understand."

"I don't mind. I like hearing questions other Vikings have."

Stoick's eyes widened slightly. "Really? You don't find it boring?"

"No, they have different questions. Then, it's a challenge to see how to fix what's wrong. Besides, it's all part of being a chief. I don't really think there's anything about being in charge that doesn't interest me."

With a nod of his head, Stoick began leading Dagur to the Great Hall. This would be different. He hardly went with Hiccup. The little Berkian was not fascinated by the less glamorous sides of being chief. Truthfully, Stoick was not sure if he was fascinated by the other sides either. He might have found none of it glamorous. Hiccup always avoided conversations about taking over whenever Stoick brought them up. The man began assuming most kids might not enjoy this work and that he was misremembering his own childhood when he would travel to the Great Hall with his father. There with Dagur, he recalled the days. His memories were accurate.

Stoick sat in a large chair on an elevated part of the ground. To his right was another seat where Dagur sat. The chief found himself glancing at the youth out of the corner of his eye. It was so familiar. The engagement on Dagur's face matched Stoick's own when he had been that age. It was caused by knowing he would one day be in that larger seat, relied on for answers. The idea was as terrifying as it was thrilling. Although an unskilled chief could mean ruin for a tribe, a talented one could cause the people to be prosperous.

"It's nice to see the next generation is still looking forward to taking up the mantle," he thought.

The chief answered questions as they came in from the Berkians. Near the end of the line, he had seen Mildew. He was the one Berkian who Stoick always dreaded dealing with in any way. He seemed to take the idea of being a curmudgeon to heart, then made it his life's work to convince everyone of that. When the elderly Viking planted his walking stick heavily on the ground, he already had a sneer on his face.

"Why did I hear that the Dragon Root came from my garden?"

"Because it did," Stoick answered plainly.

"Well then, shouldn't I have been asked before it was stolen? Maybe I was saving it for something. You didn't even think to tell me before snatching it from around my cabbages."

Stoick tried to keep in a sigh. It was true that he had not thought to ask, but it was because he knew the older man had no need for Dragon Root, probably did not know what it was, and absolutely would have requested a special favor in return for the plant.

"I didn't think you'd miss it. If this occurs again, I'll ask."

"If this occurs again," Mildew mumbled, shaking his head in disappointment. "Why did you even use them?"

"That should be obvious. The dragons were busy fighting, so we could kill them."

"Sounds to me like the cursed root just caused more chaos."

"No one died, Mildew," Stoick said, already feeling exasperated with him. "It probably seemed chaotic because there's never been this much fighting in one raid. Don't forget how that aided us in battle."

Mildew grumbled to himself. Then, he puffed up and frowned at the chief.

"Since it went so well, I'm all the more deserving of a prize for the good my Dragon Root did."

The leader put his head in his hand. He knew the same Viking who was ready to condemn the idea would want to benefit from it. Stoick just as easily could have decided that the man's prize was getting to not go fishing with the others. Everyone would be happy with that. A thought occurred to the chief and he turned to Dagur.

"What do you think should be his reward?"

The boy was surprised that he got asked. Thinking hard, his eyes twinkled bizarrely.

"He gets to keep the head of the first dragon we slay when they return. He could wear it like a hat!"

Mildew turned his nose up at the suggestion, then turned to the chief. "Stoick," he whined, "you can't expect me to want that."

Sighing, the leader was about to speak, but he frowned when he heard Mildew scoffing.

"Shouldn't be surprised such a foolish offer would come from a lunatic."

Dagur began snarling at the Viking and Stoick lifted a hand. The boy let out a sigh. He had done it again. Something he said was wrong. The tricky part was just determining what. Two options existed for what would happen next. Stoick might simply state what was wrong, causing the other Vikings there to regard the redhead with disdain for missing something so obvious to them. Then, there was the possibility that it would not get brought up at all later, leaving Dagur to wonder what caused Mildew to say that. Both choices irritated the boy.

"I won't let you insult our guest," Stoick stated, eyes hard. "He's also the same one who suggested using the Dragon Root that you want to be rewarded for."

Mildew seemed unsure what to say, but he was still annoyed. "Forget the reward. I don't want any part of that plan anymore."

The Viking turned and left, being followed by his sheep. Dagur looked at Stoick with wide eyes. That was not an option he had expected. Still, he repeated his own words in his mind as the last few Berkians who had questions for the chief spoke. No matter how hard he looked, he could not see where the error lay. When their time in the Great Hall came to an end, it was late. The two Vikings prepared dinner, but Stoick noticed that Dagur had been quiet for a while.

"Don't mind Mildew," he said. "No one pays him much attention. Most of us try to ignore him. I just can't as chief."

The Berserker's brows furrowed, then he looked at the Berkian. "Why was my suggestion crazy?"

Stoick paused, taking in how the smaller redhead seemed. A great deal of the confidence had faded even if he was trying to still hold onto most. It was simple for the father to see that this was a sore subject for the boy. He wondered how many other Vikings had dismissed or mocked him for being what they considered to be insane.

"I wouldn't call it crazy," the man said. "It was just a little more brutal than Mildew would be interested in. Although I wouldn't mind wearing a hat made from a skull, not everyone feels that way."

"Then, how do you know what suggestions to give people? It's not like you can tell what they're thinking."

"No, you can't, but it takes getting to know them, learning about solutions, and practice. I wasn't good at answering questions immediately. It still isn't a perfect process, but experience has helped." He put a reassuring hand on Dagur's shoulder. "It'll help you too. Just try to keep the other Viking in mind when you answer their questions. It can be tempting to suggest what we'd like, but as chiefs, we have to consider the needs and wants of our Vikings."

Dagur considered this and nodded. "Thanks," he said sincerely, "for what you said to the smelly guy and for not saying what was wrong with my idea in front of everybody."

Stoick gave the Berserker a smile. "You're welcome. Next time I ask you, I bet we'll be able to use your suggestion for the Berkian whose problem we're solving."

The idea put an excited grin on the boy's face. He was glad he would be given another chance. That same morning on Berserker Island, Oswald prepared some fruit bowls for breakfast. He kept looking at the new maps and was in the process of studying one when Hiccup joined him. Immediately, the chief noticed his slightly unhappy demeanor.

"What's wrong?" he asked, setting the maps aside.

"Nothing," Hiccup answered quickly. "I guess I'm just thinking about Berk." "I can't tell him I read the letter," he thought.

"That's understandable," Oswald said, a sympathetic look on his face. "Being homesick is a common illness for voyaging Vikings. I've heard a good way to lessen that is by distracting yourself. Since the swords are both done, would you want to explore these new islands?"

"Alright," the Berkian said, feeling a little excited. "What about the other Berserkers? Do we need to tell them where we're going?"

"We can do more than that. With this being a new place, I think it would be best to have them travel with us. Some of them at least. I'll get Vorg and a small group."

Hiccup put a handful of berries into his mouth and followed the father out of the hut. Oswald glanced down at him, a curious look in his eyes.

"Do you think you'd ever be interested in leading an expedition?"

"Not anytime soon," the boy said, eyes widening.

Oswald chuckled. "Don't worry. I wasn't going to ask you to do it today. Have you ever seen one?"

"No, we don't leave Berk very often unless we're out of supplies and Trader Johann doesn't offer them either. I don't go with the others when they do that."

"Then, I'm glad you'll be coming along for this. I think it's good for lads and lasses to see how traveling the seas with a fleet can go. I'll have our group be smaller so that it matches what you might do on Berk."

Hiccup and Oswald arrived at the docks and went to Vorg's ship.

"Vorg," the chief called.

The Viking popped up over the side of the ship like before. "Aye, Chief."

"Those maps you brought, think you'd want to explore them with us?"

"I'd love to!"

"Good, then get a group of seven to join us. I think a party of ten total would be suitable for this."

Vorg nodded and went off to find the Vikings. He quickly returned and they boarded a vessel. Oswald went to the helm, eyes on the seas out in front of them. He looked at Hiccup and gestured for him to approach. The Berkian did so hesitantly.

"You want me to steer?"

"It's good to learn," the father said, nodding. "And I'll be right here, so the worst that can happen is that we turn one direction sharply before we're back on course."

Oswald moved the stool from the side over to the helm so that Hiccup would be able to reach. The Berkian put his hands where he had seen Oswald position his. Gently, Oswald adjusted his left hand so that he was higher on the wheel.

"I'm not sure why, but it always helps me to have them be at that height," he said.

"And I just stay like this?" Hiccup asked.

"That you do. At least until we need to move. For now, we're headed in the correct direction, so there's no need to turn."

Hiccup nodded and tensed, hoping he did not move. Oswald noticed and tried to not laugh.

"You can breathe, lad. A relaxed elbow won't kill us. No point in passing out before we get there."

The boy relaxed and chuckled. "Good point." His eyes lit up. "What do you think we'll see?"

"The options are almost limitless. We might see new Vikings, plants, or dragons." Oswald saw the Berkian's face go pale. "But we'll be fine. The dragons I've been around mostly just attack if you attack first."

"It's not like that on Berk," Hiccup admitted.

"Maybe not, but I've also heard that the attacks happen nearly as soon as they arrive. So, can you be sure?"

The smaller Viking shook his head. "I guess not. I've never thought of us not attacking as soon as they land."

"Then, maybe that's something you could suggest and see what happens."

"Sure," Hiccup thought sarcastically. "Because what I really need is to start telling everyone to hug and kiss dragons. If they didn't love me before, they'll make a shrine in my honor for that."

Oswald could tell that this troubled the boy, so he changed the subject.

"All three of these islands are near one another," he said, showing Hiccup the map. "Which would you want to see first?"

"Um, what about that one to the left? Then, we could just keep going to the right."

"I like it. In that case, you'll need to start turning the wheel."

Hiccup followed the instructions and was happy when he saw the island come into view. Oswald was grinning as well.

"Nicely done, Hiccup the Navigator. And look, we didn't get lost once."

"Well, it was still mostly you navigating," the boy said, although the compliment did turn him a little pink.

Oswald shook his head. "A teacher's nothing without a good student. I bet that when we return, you wouldn't need me to say anything at all."

"Do you really think I could bring us back?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't," the Berserker said warmly.

Hiccup grinned and nodded. "Alright, I'll try it then. I should just need to do the opposite of what we did to get here and the maps were pretty clear. I think I could do it."

This put a matching smile on the chief's face and he had the ramp lowered. He disembarked first, then Hiccup and the others. Oswald held up a hand, telling the Vikings to be silent for a moment.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

Hiccup looked around in confusion. "No. What are you listening to?"

"Nothing. We pulled up on the backside of the island. I didn't see any ships, so if any other Vikings are here at all, there's a very small group. It's important to pay attention to details like that when in unfamiliar areas. Start off with quietly going through the island to see if there's danger. Then, you can explore leisurely."

The Berkian made a mental note as they went further onto the island. It really was quiet, but it was peaceful. The island had nothing but a few boars which decided to not bother the Vikings. While they stayed out of sight, the group was able to observe them. Oswald watched and smiled as Hiccup jotted down what he saw them do. The chief remembered the earlier times he went exploring with his uncle. It was always such an adventure. Oswald was curious if his own eyes held such wonder in them as what he saw in the young Berkian. It felt great to know that there were still Vikings who wanted to find new places, mark land that had previously been undiscovered, and even meet new individuals. That was something Oswald had hoped to do and had not yet managed. He was sure that Hiccup would be able to make friends from all over the world.

The Vikings went to the second island and found a few Terrible Terrors. Hiccup moved away from them at first, but as he watched the chief calmly hold out his arms, he joined him. The Terrors landed on Oswald and one curled up near where Hiccup was standing. Vorg and the other Berserkers offered some strips of yak to the animals, immediately making what Hiccup assumed were friends for life. The boy sat down and let one rest in his lap. It was nice to pet them and Oswald was happy to see that the Berkian could enjoy the less violent sides of life. They lived in such a brutal world. It was important to him that the Vikings of the future would not all leap at the chance to kill just for the sake of killing. He often wondered if Dagur was actually as aggressive as he seemed or if it was just to attract attention. It was difficult for Oswald to tell, but he wished he could just have those peaceful moments with him like he could with Hiccup.

When they reached the third island, Hiccup blinked as he noticed odd sparkles. Squinting, he realized this was caused by droplets on webs. Oswald's eyes lit up in fascination. Once he heard a noise, he frowned and gestured for the others to remain silent. The chief gestured towards the coast. Obeying, the group started to head that way. Their path soon got blocked by a dragon with six legs, four eyes, and chelicerates. Its back was spiny and its tail was long. Hiccup yelped and was about to move back, but Oswald had already stepped in front of him.

"What is that?" the boy asked, scared.

"If my readings are correct, it's a Silkspanner," Oswald said, evenly so that the animals did not attack. "They can shoot webs from their mouths that they use to trap their prey. They can also use those webs to glide, but they can't fly."

"Could we cut through the webs if it attacks?"

"No," the man said, accidentally causing Hiccup's spirits to sink. "Even the strongest dragons can't break through. If we get caught, we're caught. But I don't think it'll attack because we're not near any eggs. We would've seen them by now. So, this Silkspanner is just a little territorial but not as aggressive as it could be. Everyone, take a deep breath so that you'll calm down. It can still sense your fear and we don't want to convince it to do anything against us."

The Berserkers took their breaths as suggested. Hiccup did as well, but it did not help. He still could not stop thinking about how even other dragons were helpless to this one's webs. They would all be eaten alive if they were caught. They were on that island because he had suggested it be the last stop. Them being there at the end of the day would probably make them tired. He was about to get them all killed. Hiccup's eyes widened as the Silkspanner lunged for him. Its fangs glistened as the jaws were open wide. The boy tightly shut his eyes, praying for a quick death. Instead of feeling teeth digging into his flesh, he felt a soft push and someone lifting him. He was in Vorg's arms as Oswald dug the blade of an ax into the Silkspanner's front leg. It cried out and fell to the ground. The other Berserkers were about to join in the battle, but Oswald stopped them.

"Just head to the ship," he instructed. "It'll live, but it's too injured to attack us now."

They obliged with the request. Growling at them, the Silkspanner began to limp away towards the island. The Berserkers quickly boarded their vessel. Hiccup was placed back down on the deck as Vorg went to hoist the mainsail. Oswald went to the side, then looked back towards the helm. Hiccup had not gone over to it. The father saw how he had an ashamed expression on his face.

"I do like this ship," the man said, a joking twinkle in his eyes, "but I think the others would prefer to spend the night back home."

"You still want me to navigate?" Hiccup asked, feeling full of doubt.

"Of course. I don't see why I wouldn't."

Hesitantly, the boy went back to the helm and began leading them into the island's harbor. The Berserkers said goodbye to one another as they went to their huts to retire for the night.

"Thanks for the invite," Vorg said, smiling at the pair.

"Anytime," Oswald said jovially.

The chief started walking back to his hut, but he noticed how Hiccup still seemed to have a low head.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really," came the little reply.

When they got inside, Oswald sat down in a chair and gestured for Hiccup to sit in one near him.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of for being frightened of a new dragon."

"No one else was," Hiccup argued.

"I imagine we all were. I know I was."

"Really?" the boy asked, eyes wide.

Oswald laughed. "Fears don't just disappear as you get older. I'm responsible for everyone. Whenever we're in danger, I'm scared someone will die on my watch."

"That does sound pretty scary."

"But you can't let fears get the best of you. They only do that when you start letting them control you."

Hiccup smiled and nodded. "I won't."

"Good man," Oswald said, grinning. "Now, I hope that your appetite has returned because mine never left."

The Berkian chuckled and they began heading towards the dining hall of the island. That night, Oswald was glad that they could have gone out and explored, but someone was on his mind.

"I wonder how Dagur's doing," he thought. "He was so against the idea of leaving. I hope he won't be upset at the end of this." The chief walked outside the hut, finding a tree with familiar knife slashes. "What am I thinking about? He's Dagur. He'll always get upset. I just hope I can calm him down when that happens."

Oswald began to return inside. He was not the only father lost in thought. Stoick found himself unable to sleep. He was walking near the dragon killing arena.

"Hiccup would never want to come here with me," he thought. "I wonder if we'll be able to understand each other when he returns." He stopped to look at the axes he knew his son struggled to use. "I might be asking for too much. I just hope he's enjoying himself and hasn't gotten hurt…or accidentally caused anyone else to."

With a sigh, the man returned to his home. Both fathers went to sleep, thinking about if they would ever be able to truly know their sons. The past would make them doubtful, but this experiment just had to work. They did not know what other options there were.