Legend has it that the Dragon King of the Sanctuary is the only Night Fury in this world, at least he was until Hill arrived.
I was the one who brought Hill back.
That day, I was leading a group of young dragons, teaching them fishing skills above the sea outside the waterfall. The dragon hatchlings of the Sanctuary are very close to me, and I love children. Perhaps it's the influence of that mother. Although I have never had offspring of my own, the young dragons of the Sanctuary all see me as their second mother. Imparting survival skills to these little ones has become a hobby for me, a way to pass the time in my long life.
This Night Fury hatchling drifted in with the current, appearing without a trace. Its small body was curled up on a small wooden board. Curious, the young dragons thought it was something new and flew towards it, flapping their wings excitedly.
As the wooden board was about to fall over the waterfall, I noticed something was wrong. The moment I realized it was a dragon hatchling, I immediately unfurled my hidden wings and rushed forward at full speed, narrowly rescuing the hatchling from a fatal fall.
I was surprised to find that this little dragon was the same species as the Dragon King. My intuition told me that this was no small matter. I immediately took all the young dragons back to the Sanctuary.
Later, I took this Night Fury hatchling under my wing. Although some dragons objected – after all, the origin of this Night Fury was unknown. Legend had it that the Dragon King was the last remaining Night Fury. Now, another one had appeared out of thin air. Moreover, three hundred years ago, all the dragons had migrated to the Sanctuary. Now, there wasn't a single dragon scale to be seen in the outside world, let alone a living dragon. This whole thing seemed very strange.
The Dragon King squinted at the unconscious hatchling, deep in thought. I stood silently beside him, my head bowed, hoping in my heart that this little dragon would be allowed to stay. For some unknown reason, I felt a sense of familiarity with this hatchling, as if I were peering through a thick fog of time at a vague silhouette, the silhouette of an infant who had once reached out to me with chubby little hands. My heart was filled with pity and longing.
Suddenly, the little dragon's body trembled slightly, and its eyes slowly opened. Its confused gaze met the Dragon King's golden-green eyes.
I felt the tension drain from the Dragon King's body as he froze. His narrowed eyes widened in bewilderment, like a startled child. For a moment, I thought I saw him as he was three hundred years ago, wearing the same expression when he had almost lost him. He let out a few hurried growls, as if suppressing something, then closed his eyes, turned, and flew towards the depths of the Sanctuary.
The Light Fury frowned at the unexpected guest, her sharp gaze making the hatchling cower. The little head tilted, as if it didn't understand where the undisguised disgust from this beautiful and noble dragon came from.
I knew.
Silently, I drew the hatchling close and shielded it with my wings, blocking the Light Fury's scrutiny. I understood. The Dragon King had tacitly agreed to let me keep this little dragon. Although it was the same species as the Dragon King, judging by the Light Fury's attitude, she had no intention of raising it. After all, she had not had any other offspring since she gave birth to the Dragon King's three heirs.
The Dragon King ultimately agreed to keep the hatchling, even though the Light Fury objected. Perhaps, aside from himself, and me… no one knew whose reflection he saw in Hill's eyes that day.
The eyes of the Night Fury race had always been golden-green. I had seen other Night Furies before. But this hatchling's eyes were emerald green, the same color as the spring forests of Berk Island.
I never saw him again…
He told me to wait until the outside world could accept the existence of dragons before venturing out. I thought it was a temporary separation, never imagining it would be a final farewell.
A human lifetime spans but a few decades, insignificant compared to the long life of a dragon.
Can time make one forget everything… everything? Three hundred years have passed, yet I still remember those eyes. I used to think they were just beautiful, but back then, I lacked the words to describe them. Now that I've seen more of the world, I can say that they were like the emerald green gems of the Sanctuary, especially the ones in my cave, embedded in the walls. It's as if he's been watching over me all these years. I can almost hear him whispering "Toothless" in my ear. But now, the only one who still calls me that is the Light Fury.
The first time I met him, I pinned his small frame to the ground with a single claw. He stared at me with wide, frightened eyes, the emerald green forests of Berk Island reflected in their depths.
I don't know how many times I've dreamed of him… I can barely even remember his face.
In my dream, the small boy stood before me, stretching out his slender arm expectantly. I lowered my head towards him. His hand felt warm, like the sun that day. The warmth seemed to seep through my cold scales and burn itself onto my heart. This time, I didn't close my eyes. I could only see him clearly in my dreams… I wanted to take a good look at him. As expected, I saw my own reflection in his clear eyes.
I know, he's long gone…
My three children nestled in my embrace as the Light Fury lay beside us, basking in the sunlight that streamed in from a small patch of sky above the Sanctuary. Her entire being seemed to radiate a holy light. I remember the first time I saw her, bathed in the same light. She looked like an angel descended to earth. I should be the happiest dragon in the world, I thought to myself.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain. I looked at my uninjured skin in confusion. My hard scales could not be easily pierced. The pain came from the beating heart in my chest, from my very soul…
It hurts… I even felt something flowing from my eyes.
Are these tears? But I've never cried before.
Then why do I feel so sad? And afraid.
A boundless fear suddenly enveloped my soul. I felt like I was suffocating. Ignoring the surprised and frightened looks from the Light Fury and my children, I spread my wings with all my might, leaped into the air, and flew towards… that place. In that instant, I thought of my human, Hiccup. Or perhaps, I should say, my former human.
When we were together, there seemed to be an invisible bond between Hiccup's soul and mine. Whenever he was in danger, I could feel it instantly. But after we parted ways, I never felt that connection again… until now. But even when his life was threatened in the past, I had never felt such immense fear. Could it be…? I couldn't help but accelerate, desperate to get back to my human.
I don't know why I want to see him now. After all, I was the one who… But what did it matter? Following the guidance of my instincts is the very thing that has allowed the dragon race to survive for so long.
The small island had been transformed into a new Berk, a new home for the Vikings. Hiccup was a good chief.
I landed in the forest, my black form concealed by the night. I hadn't returned once in decades… How could I find him now?
Suddenly, I heard a rustling in the nearby trees. A young man carrying a lantern emerged from the shadows.
I stared at him in surprise. He bore a striking resemblance to Hiccup, with the same eyes and features, only his hair was a light blond.
The young man jumped back in fright when he saw me. He reached for the dagger at his waist. I watched him warily. Suddenly, his eyes widened in disbelief, and he tentatively called out, "Toothless?"
I retracted my fangs. He sighed in relief, sheathing his dagger. He approached me cautiously. "I've seen drawings of you in Dad's Dragon Manual. He wrote hundreds of pages about you. Are you… back to see him?"
I nodded. Hundreds of pages? Were there really that many things to write about a Night Fury? Even I didn't know.
The young man sighed, a pained expression crossing his face. He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "He… passed away yesterday. We've already… cremated him."
I didn't understand what he was saying. It felt like a century passed before his words finally sank in.
My world crumbled around me.
I followed him like an automaton, barely registering his words. Only his last sentence reached me.
"We wanted to give him a Viking funeral at sea, but then I remembered what he wrote in his Dragon Manual."
If I ever leave this world, I want to go with the wind. Let half of me become the sky, where I belong; and let the other half drift into the sea, to keep him company.
"I don't know who 'him' is. Maybe Mom… But he wrote 'him,' so maybe Grandpa? Mom caught the flu and passed away a few years before Dad. We sent her off according to tradition. So, according to Dad's wishes, I scattered half of his ashes into the sea, and the other half into the wind."
He led me to a tall building.
"Want to go in?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"Alright. Wait here for me. Don't let anyone see you. I have something for you."
This house is so big, I thought as I looked up. The roof seemed sturdy, too. It wouldn't even shake if someone jumped on it…
As my mind wandered, Hiccup's son came out of the house. He was carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle and an old book.
"I always thought dragons were make-believe, until I saw this." He unwrapped the bundle to reveal a familiar black scale. "Dad always kept this with him. I was going to burn it with the rest of his things, but somehow, I couldn't bring myself to do it. It seems he wanted me to give it to you. After all, it belongs to you. And this Dragon Manual… it's no use to me. Dad wouldn't want anyone else to know about you, so you should keep it. Oh, and I'll get you some oil. How's your tail fin holding up?"
I returned to the old Berk. Hiccup's son had said that in his Dragon Manual, in those hundreds of pages about Night Furies, Hiccup mentioned burying something in the place where we first met.
I flew to the cove and landed, shifting into my human form. With the help of the moonlight and my dragon night vision, I opened the Dragon Manual. During those three hundred years, I had secretly learned to read human writing. I didn't know what use it would be, considering I might never see another human again, but I needed something to occupy my time.
"The Night Fury is a loyal and affectionate dragon."
I laughed bitterly. Loyal and affectionate? He hadn't crossed out those words after all these years? In the beginning, he had written about Night Furies in a detached, encyclopedic style. But later, the entries became more like diary entries.
"Today, Toothless gave me the best gift ever. He broke his auto-tail. Does he want to fly with me all the time? Words can't describe how happy I am. He was actually trying to find my helmet. It's a shame it's gone. It was Mom's, after all. But if I lost Toothless, I don't know what I'd do. I'm so glad he's back."
"As expected, Toothless can't be controlled. He never ceases to amaze me. He's my best friend."
"Toothless ate an eel today! Scared me half to death! I have to keep a closer eye on my dragon!"
… And so on. He recorded every little detail, even things I had long forgotten. And to think he didn't even need a thousand pages for all of this.
"Toothless saw a white dragon today. Astrid named her the Light Fury, but I don't think I like her as much as I like the other dragons. I even kind of dislike her. But I can't tell Toothless. He'd be furious."
"Toothless went to see the Light Fury again."
"Toothless went to see the Light Fury again."
I frowned. The entries from those days were very short. Was I really that smitten? Young and energetic dragons are always driven by instinct when they encounter a potential mate. Sometimes, they don't even know what they are doing.
"Toothless left. But I believe he'll be back. Gobber says he won't, but he's always lying. He's just a grumpy old man."
"Toothless didn't come back today. Even Astrid says he's gone for good. They don't understand. How could my dragon abandon me?"
…
"Toothless still hasn't returned. They're going to attack Berk. What am I going to do without him?"
"Astrid says I can do this on my own. Maybe she's right. But this is different. They just don't understand."
"We defeated the enemy. Toothless, he…"
The entry ended abruptly.
Suddenly, the next page felt impossibly heavy. My fingertips trembled as I tried to turn it, but I couldn't. I closed the book, feeling drained. I didn't dare to read any further.
I unwrapped the cloth bundle.
It was a dragon scale. Black. Mine.
I couldn't imagine how many times he had held this scale in his hand, rubbing it between his fingers, to make it so smooth.
Finally, I found what I was looking for by the lake. A tail fin. Red, with a skull painted on it.
I returned to the Sanctuary with these three items. Oh, and the oil.
But I never opened the Dragon Manual again. I never finished reading those entries. I always thought I was brave enough to face anything, even to break free from the Dragon King's shackles. But now, I couldn't even bring myself to open an old book.
I thought about the time we flew together.
Hiccup's first attempt at free-falling with me from a great height.
His emerald green eyes reflected the sky, the clouds… and me. I closed my eyes and felt something soft brush against my forehead. When I opened my eyes, I saw him smiling at me, his freckles dancing with mirth.
Looking back, those decades we spent together… they were all contained in that single glance.
He is the most powerful dragon, with the most exalted status, the most beautiful queen, and three outstanding sons. But he always gave me the impression that he had nothing at all. Or perhaps, he once had it all but lost it along the way.
The Dragon King landed. This was a secret place within the Sanctuary, a private domain belonging to the Dragon King. When I was a hatchling, Windy and I snuck in here once, but we were quickly discovered and reprimanded.
I hid behind a rock. My small size was an advantage in situations like this. If Hookwing and the others were here, they would never be able to hide.
The Dragon King landed on the grass and slowly folded his jet-black wings. His long, powerful body was bathed in moonlight, and his hard scales gleamed with an icy light. Under the moon's rays, his body began to shrink. His thick, powerful limbs gradually transformed into long, slender human legs and arms. His scales disappeared beneath his skin.
I gasped and held my breath, my eyes fixed on the man before me. I didn't know anything about human beauty standards, but he was… captivating. Mother told me that some elder dragons, upon reaching a certain age, gained special abilities, like the ability to take human form. I had seen Mother's human form. She was a woman who made me feel at ease… though I'm not sure how else to describe it. I had never seen another human before. When I was a hatchling, whenever I had nightmares, Mother would transform into this woman, hold me in her arms, and hum me a lullaby. I would always fall back asleep quickly. Her voice was gentle and soothing, like a caress. She told me that the lullaby she sang was a song another human mother sang to her child. She sang it whenever she missed her son. Three hundred years had passed, but she still remembered the melody.
But I had never seen the Dragon King's human form before.
He had short, dark hair, fair skin, and his tall, powerful frame was clad in black clothing that resembled the Viking attire I had seen in Mother's diary. Moonlight shimmered on his clothes like ripples in the flow of time. He opened his eyes, revealing golden-green irises with vertical, reptilian slits. They held a depth of sadness that belied his youthful appearance, a sadness I sometimes saw in Mother's eyes.
Looking into those eyes, I saw centuries of loneliness etched onto the Dragon King's soul. An inexplicable sadness welled up inside me.
The Dragon King took something out of his pocket. I recognized it immediately. It was a dragon scale. A Night Fury scale. But this scale was smaller than those on the Dragon King's body. It must have belonged to a younger Night Fury, about the same size as the scales on my own body, but much smoother. The Dragon King stared at the scale, his long eyelashes concealing his expression.
For some reason, I couldn't bear to see him like this. I turned to leave.
"Who's there?" A low voice rang out behind me, laced with an unmistakable aura of command. It was the voice of the Dragon King, the alpha of our kind. I froze, my knees trembling.
Slowly, I turned around and emerged from behind the rock, keeping my head down.
"You?" he said, surprised.
When I saw that he wasn't angry, I dared to raise my head.
The Dragon King looked at me. "You know, I like your eyes… I wish my children had eyes like yours."
My eyes?
I didn't understand what he meant, but I felt his sadness seep into me, as if an invisible hand were squeezing my heart.
After a long silence, the Dragon King sighed. "Go back now. Cloudjumper will be worried if he can't find you. She… she's a good mother."
With that, he turned away. Jet-black wings unfurled behind him as he shifted back into his dragon form. Then, the Dragon King of the Sanctuary, carrying centuries of loneliness on his shoulders, launched himself into the night sky.
A whisper, carried on the wind, reached me.
"Goodnight…"
The dream came again.
In the dream, I was a human, even speaking the human tongue with ease.
A dragon was my constant companion. The dream was hazy; I couldn't discern his species, only that he was a dragon of pure black with eyes of golden green.
His tail was injured, missing half of its fin. The me in the dream crafted a new one for him. Even though I had no idea how to operate a tail fin, when I sat upon the dragon's back, I controlled it instinctively, as if it were an extension of my own body, as if I had done it a thousand times before.
We soared through the clouds, my dragon and I. We flew over azure seas, emerald forests, and jagged, towering rocks. The wind stung my face, but my heart soared with the boundless sky.
I was born to belong to the sky.
With my dragon, I could go anywhere, even into each other's hearts. Our minds were as one, our souls intertwined.
The scene shifted. Flames roared, a raging inferno that ripped through the clouds and turned the sky crimson. Before me, warships blazed, and a monstrous Bewilderbeast roared.
But I felt no fear. Because my dragon stood before me, a skull emblazoned on his crimson tail fin. He spread his black wings protectively, shielding me from harm. He roared defiantly at the colossal dragon, a creature hundreds of times his size, as brilliant blue lightning tore through the frozen air.
With my dragon, I was invincible.
Then, at the dream's edge, my dragon left.
Tears blurred my vision as I watched him disappear into the distance. I wanted to cry, but why was I forcing myself to smile? My heart was shattered, bleeding. I reached out to stop him, but my hand trembled, bound by invisible chains. Even if I broke every bone, I couldn't break free. I tried to call out to him, but my throat constricted. All that escaped my lips were choked sobs.
My dragon continued to fly away, never looking back. Perhaps it was for the best. If he turned around and saw me like this, broken and bleeding, wouldn't it break his heart? Wouldn't he be angry?
I looked down at myself and was surprised to find my body whole and unharmed.
Only my soul felt torn in two.
For as long as I could remember, I had been haunted by this dream. The dream where I was a human, and I had a dragon. No matter how close we were, in the end, my dragon always left. Countless times, I tried to change the outcome, but he never once looked back at me. I could never see his face clearly. Upon waking, the details of the dream would fade, only to return with excruciating clarity the next time I drifted into that nightmare.
There were no stars tonight. The Sanctuary was quiet, the only sound the distant roar of the waterfall.
I woke up crying again. Mother held me close, stroking my back soothingly, just as she had done for so many years.
"Nightmare again?" she asked, her voice gentle.
"Mm-hmm…" I sniffled.
"Mother, who is the dragon in my dream? Have I met him before? Why am I a human in my dream?" I couldn't help but ask the questions that had haunted me for so long.
Mother stroked my head.
"You have to find the answers yourself, Hill. But sometimes, knowing the truth isn't always a good thing… You might be happier not knowing."
"But… I feel like it's something I have to find… I can only remember things that happened after I came to the Sanctuary. I can't remember anything before that. I just feel like I've lost something very important, and I want it back."
As if she had anticipated my answer, Mother hugged me tighter.
"Then go find it. You're a brave child, Hill. You'll find it. No matter what you choose, I'll always support you."
Tears welled up in my eyes again. I shook my head, trying to blink them away.
"Go back to sleep. Goodnight."
That night, the dragon appeared in my dream again. This time, I saw him more clearly than ever before. The black wings, the golden-green eyes, the half-crimson tail fin. More and more details were coming back to me… Then, another silhouette entered the dream. Another black dragon with golden-green eyes, but his tail fin… it didn't seem to be red… As this thought crossed my mind, I was too tired to feel surprised. I drifted into a deep sleep.
I decided to follow the Dragon King. The sight of him that night had left an indelible mark on my mind. It was only then that I noticed the Dragon King's eyes were also golden-green, and his tail fin was also injured, although the other half was black. I had never dared to entertain the possibility that the dragon in my dream could be the Dragon King.
Why would he appear in my dream? Did I know him before? And what about that crimson tail fin that haunted my thoughts?
I kept my distance as I trailed the Dragon King, using my small size to my advantage as I hid behind rocks and bushes.
The King's day was monotonous. He would start his day by patrolling the Sanctuary, resolving trivial matters like settling disputes between two dragons fighting over a cod with his overwhelming power. Then, it was time for lunch. He would often eat with the Light Fury and his children, but the atmosphere was far from the warm family gathering I had imagined. They barely spoke, as if a rift had formed between them. As night fell, the King would often fly alone to his private territory in the depths of the Sanctuary. There, he would transform into the young man I had seen before, an old, yellowed book resting on his knee. He never opened it, content to simply stare at the moon. When the moon was hidden behind clouds, he would close his eyes and lie down on the grass, motionless, until dawn broke. Then, he would shift back into his dragon form and begin another monotonous day.
I couldn't imagine living like that for three hundred years. If it were me, I wouldn't last three days.
That night, I followed the Dragon King to the grassy clearing where he always went and hid in the bushes.
There was no moon tonight.
His breathing slowed and deepened as he drifted off to sleep. I crept closer.
But as I held my breath and leaned in for a closer look, he suddenly opened his eyes, a glint of amusement in their depths.
It was the first time I had seen anything other than indifference in his eyes. It was as if a pebble had been tossed into the still waters of a lake, sending ripples across its surface.
Night Furies are fiercely loyal to their mates. But I no longer felt the same spark I had felt when I first met the Light Fury. After Hiccup's death, we drifted apart. The moment I saw her eyes, I felt my soul branded, marked as hers. When she was gone, longing consumed me, a wildfire that scorched my reason. That irrational fervor severed even the deepest bond I had, the one with Hiccup.
I left him, never looking back.
Time is a cruel mistress. It wasn't until he was gone that I truly began to miss him.
After returning from Berk, I found myself thinking about Hiccup. Sometimes. No, often.
I thought about him when winter came, and the snow fell.
I thought about him when I flew through the night, my wings slicing through the air.
I thought about him when the aurora borealis painted the sky with its iridescent light.
For centuries, memories of those fleeting years we spent together replayed in my mind, over and over again.
My heart died the day I learned of his passing. It beat only faintly now, a dull ache that intensified whenever he crossed my mind.
If only time hadn't slipped away. If only he hadn't left. Would he still be there, waiting for me? Waiting for a heartless, remorseless wretch who never looked back, who never returned home?
In the quiet of the night, memories of him surfaced unbidden. His smile. The way he would throw his arms around my neck, and I would wrap my wings around him as we drifted off to sleep together.
For three hundred years, I feared I would forget him. But not anymore. His face was etched into my mind, forever inescapable.
Ah, there he was again, invading my thoughts. Lately, a series of events had provided a much-needed distraction from my endless ruminations.
That Night Fury hatchling had been following me.
Well, he couldn't really be called a hatchling anymore. He was about fourteen or fifteen in dragon years. When he first arrived in the Sanctuary, he was just a tiny bundle of scales, clinging to Cloudjumper all the time. He was still quite small, even now. Time was a meaningless construct for dragons.
He was bullied by the other hatchlings at first. They would hide eels in his food, throw rocks at him, mock his small size, and gossip behind his back. I knew what they were doing, but I didn't intervene, though I often felt an unexplainable surge of protectiveness and anger. Perhaps it was because we were the same. But with Cloudjumper around, those hatchlings wouldn't dare to go too far. Besides, if he couldn't even handle these minor inconveniences, how could he ever become a true Night Fury? Most importantly, I believed he was capable of overcoming these challenges.
And he did. Eventually, those who mocked him became his friends. Now, the Sanctuary was even more chaotic. Those mischievous hatchlings wreaked havoc wherever they went, creating more work for me.
Perhaps he was just born with that ability to change people.
The other dragons, aside from those I had known since I was a hatchling, regarded me with a mixture of awe and fear. None dared to approach me or get to know me. So why was this dragon, this Hill, so… unafraid? He followed me everywhere, like a shadow, even all the way to my private territory. It was fortunate I wasn't a tyrant.
What could he possibly find so fascinating about me? It was a mystery. The Sanctuary only needed a Dragon King who could fight and lead. They didn't care whether I had a soul or not. But truth be told, it was easier this way.
When I first noticed him following me, I didn't stop him. I figured he'd get bored after a few days and leave. I was well aware of how dull I had become. Hiccup had taken all the color with him when he left. For me, a dragon's long life wasn't a gift but a curse. And yet, here I was, stuck on this throne, with no right to choose.
But this curious dragon persisted, neither leaving nor approaching. Ah, to be young again…
So, I decided to give him what he wanted. I slowed my breathing and pretended to be asleep. He watched me for a long time before cautiously creeping closer.
I opened my eyes, catching his wide-eyed stare.
"Found you," I said.
He jumped back, startled, and turned to flee, but I caught his tail and pulled him back.
I chuckled at his wounded expression.
"You're Hill, right?" I asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied.
"What are you doing, following me like this? Don't think I didn't notice you've been trailing me."
"Uh… you knew all along? I…"
He stammered, at a loss for words.
"Go on. I won't bite."
"Well… you remind me of a dragon I dream about. So I followed you to… to make sure…"
A dream? It was hardly a big deal.
"That's it? Nothing else? You see me every day. Isn't it normal to dream about someone you see all the time?"
"I… the you in my dream seems a bit different from… from the you now. And…"
I chuckled at his flustered expression. "Different how?"
I softened my tone, retracting the aura of authority I usually exuded unconsciously. The young Night Fury visibly relaxed.
"Well, in my dream, we're… uh, we seem to be very close. Like we're always together. And… I'm a human in my dream."
I raised an eyebrow. So, he had seen my human form and dreamed of shapeshifting himself? It was true that Night Furies, being a higher dragon species, could develop the ability to shift into human form upon reaching a certain age. But this dragon was far too young.
"Oh, and Your Majesty… your tail. In my dream, it's red. With a skull on it. But that's probably not important, right?"
My pupils constricted. That was precisely the problem.
Everything else was easy to explain away. He admired the Dragon King, perhaps he even yearned for my power. But the red tail… that was all in the past. I had kept that tail fin hidden away. How could he possibly know about it, let alone the design?
Hill flinched at my serious expression and the sudden sharpness in my eyes. His body tensed up again.
I studied him intently. "Don't… don't be afraid,"
Not long after the dragons left, Hiccup and I were married.
Berk, having barely emerged from the sorrow of losing the dragons, plunged headlong into a week-long celebration. The Vikings weren't heartless, merely optimistic and resilient by nature. Time, they believed, healed all wounds.
I was ecstatic, of course. After everything we'd been through, I was finally wed to the man I loved most in the world. I was the happiest bride on earth.
The once-ostracized boy had blossomed into one of the greatest leaders in Viking history. In public, he carried himself with an air of unwavering strength, his slender shoulders seemingly capable of bearing the weight of the world. Everyone believed he would restore Berk to its former glory, perhaps even surpass it.
But I saw through his facade. His genuine smiles, the kind that lit up his entire face, were fading. He wore a mask of cheerfulness during the day, but at night, when we were alone in our home, he finally allowed himself to relax. He no longer held his back ramrod straight. It was simply too exhausting. He spent more and more time lost in thought, staring into the flickering flames of the hearth, or gazing wistfully at the horizon as we patrolled the island, snapping back to reality only when someone called his name. Sometimes, I would find him hunched over a table, sketching on a piece of parchment. I once smoothed out one of his discarded sketches and found a rough drawing of a dragon. Even in those haphazard lines, I recognized a yearning for freedom, a wild spirit that refused to be contained.
Hiccup treated me better than ever. He was attentive and loving, and the people of Berk praised us as the perfect couple. What more could I ask for?
And yet, whenever I saw him rubbing his temples wearily, his shoulders slumped with the weight of responsibility, a pang of sadness pierced my heart. I wished he wasn't the chief, not if it meant losing the carefree, spirited boy I had fallen in love with. This position had chipped away at his edges, smoothing them until there was nothing left but a dull ache. Responsibility and duty had extinguished the spark in his eyes, the same spark that had ignited my own soul and lifted me into the clouds alongside my dragon.
If this was the price of growing up, I would rather we remain children forever, free to soar through the sky on the backs of our dragons.
I walked over to him and gently massaged his shoulders, running my fingers through his wind-tangled hair. He straightened up and pulled me into his arms. I rested my head against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of sea salt and grass.
He used to be so small, always covered in dirt and dragon snot. I cupped his face in my hands. His skin was rough from years of wind and sun, and his stubble scratched my palms.
"You smell much better now," I teased.
He stiffened slightly, and I realized I had stumbled upon a sore subject. I opened my mouth to apologize, but he silenced me with a kiss.
"I love you, Astrid," he whispered against my lips.
I gazed into his eyes, my love for him shining in my own.
"I love you too, Hiccup."
One spring afternoon, Hiccup took me to our favorite spot on a grassy hill overlooking the village. The warm sun gilded his skin, and his emerald green eyes shone like polished stones. For a moment, he looked like the boy I fell in love with. I pulled him down onto the soft grass beside me, and we lay there, watching the clouds drift by. Spring in the North was fleeting, but its ephemerality made it all the more precious.
I placed my hand on my stomach and turned to him.
"Hiccup," I said, "I think I'm pregnant."
He froze, and then, a look of pure joy spread across his face, a look I would never forget.
"Really?" he exclaimed. "That's… that's amazing!"
He leaned down towards my stomach, his excitement almost childlike. I felt my cheeks flush and gently pushed him away. We tumbled onto the grass, laughing like children. He paused, then leaned in to kiss my cheek.
"I love you, Astrid," he whispered.
I pulled his head against my chest and kissed his hair.
"I love you too, Hiccup."
Later that night, I woke to the flickering light of the hearth. Hiccup sat by the fire, his face illuminated by the dancing flames. In his hands, he cradled something I hadn't seen in years.
I started to get up, but then I saw his expression. The joy that had lit up his eyes earlier was gone, replaced by an unfathomable sadness. Shadows flickered across his face, highlighting the sorrow etched into his features. The carefree boy from earlier seemed like a figment of my imagination.
In his hands, he held a tattered red tail fin, as if it were a priceless treasure. It was Toothless' favorite. Hiccup had made many tail fins for him over the years, but Toothless had always favored the red one. It had been patched and repaired countless times, bearing the marks of their many adventures together. But in the end, Toothless had chosen the auto-tail. I hadn't seen the red tail fin since Toothless left. I hadn't realized Hiccup kept it all this time.
He traced his fingers along the patched seams, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, he sighed and went back to bed.
I turned away from him. He never knew I had been awake that night. Not until the day I left.
The next morning, Hiccup left before dawn. I watched from the window as he sailed out to sea. The wind sent a chill through me, and I closed the window, but I didn't turn away. I knew where he was going: to the old Berk. Or more specifically, to the cove where he and his dragon had first met.
"Mom, I want to be just like Dad when I grow up!"
My five-year-old son gazed up at me with bright, eager eyes. He had my blond hair and Hiccup's emerald green eyes, eyes that still held a spark I feared had long since vanished from his father's. My heart melted.
"You can be anything you want to be," I said, kissing his forehead. I scooped up my daughter, and we set off for my mother's house.
Valka, Hiccup's mother and mine, lived in a small cabin in the woods. Years of living with dragons had given her a deep appreciation for nature. Hiccup and I had tried to convince her to move back to the village, arguing that the forest was too dangerous, but she refused. She would brandish her staff, which now sported a sharpened spear tip where the dragon bell used to be, and declare, "I'm a Viking warrior! I can handle myself."
Eventually, Fishlegs had moved into the forest as well, building a small hut next to my mother's. He adored the woodland creatures even more than he did women, if that was even possible. At last, Hiccup could rest easy. Mother, despite her warrior spirit, was getting older.
"Grandma! Grandma!" Zephyr shouted, spotting the cabin through the trees. He broke into a run, and I set Ruffnut down so she could chase after her brother.
Valka emerged from the cabin and scooped both children into her arms.
"Oh, look at you two! You're getting too big for your old grandma to carry!" she laughed, her silver hair gleaming. Her laughter was as infectious as ever. I couldn't help but smile.
Fishlegs came out of the other cabin, carrying an enormous sheepdog. The children, easily distracted, immediately ran towards him, drawn to the gentle giant.
Fishlegs, his face alight with enthusiasm, regaled the children with tales of his latest discoveries.
"It's an incredibly rare species, you see! I found it the other day while…"
"Wow, Uncle Fishlegs, you're amazing!"
I sat on the porch with Valka, watching the children play.
"How's Hiccup doing?" Mother asked.
"He's well. Still busy as ever. Berk is still under construction, and being chief keeps him occupied. The children are older now, so I don't need to watch them constantly. I've been helping him run the island."
"You're a good woman, Astrid," Mother said, patting my hand.
"I know. Losing Toothless… it broke something in him. I'm just trying to help him carry the burden."
Seven years flew by. Berk prospered, and Hiccup finally had time for me and the children. I began training them in combat skills.
"Why can't Dad teach us?" Zephyr whined.
I burst out laughing, watching Hiccup squirm.
"Well…" he stammered, "your mother is… a much better fighter. I could never beat her, even as a kid." Then, he leaned in conspiratorially and whispered to Zephyr, "Remember, son, always marry someone you can defeat in battle… Ow! Astrid!"
I punched him playfully on the arm.
"Why do we need to learn how to fight?" Zephyr asked.
"To protect this island, and our loved ones," I replied.
And the dragons of the Sanctuary.
At winter's end, uninvited guests arrived on our shores. My heart sank as I spotted the familiar sails of dragon hunters on the horizon. They might not know about the dragons, not yet, but the Sanctuary wasn't that far away. If they stumbled upon it… the consequences would be dire.
We met them at sea, a short but brutal battle.
Our weapons were more advanced than those we had used against the dragons. Gobber had been hard at work over the years.
We drove them back, but not before I was struck by an arrow. I tumbled into the icy water. The cold stole my breath, numbing my senses. My limbs grew heavy, and I felt myself sinking…
Strong arms pulled me from the water. Hiccup wrapped his arms around me, his body trembling as if he were the one freezing. His voice was thick with tears, and I could barely make out his words. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard him say, "I've… I've already lost everything. I can't lose you too…"
Hiccup relinquished his duties to Mother and nursed me back to health. It took all spring, but I finally recovered. Before, an injury like this would have kept me down for a few days at most.
But it had weakened me. Now, as soon as the weather turned cold, my joints ached relentlessly. I was confined to the house. I could feel my body failing, and I didn't know how much time I had left. At least the children were grown. Zephyr was already learning the ways of leadership. The battle had shaken Ruffnut, and she spent most of her time at the training grounds, sparring with the other teenagers. She was turning into quite the warrior, just like her mother.
That summer, the twins returned from one of their adventures with a collection of trinkets and souvenirs. This island couldn't contain them for long. After the dragons left, they were always sailing off on some harebrained adventure, returning with tales of faraway lands and adding new islands to Hiccup's maps. They would often be gone for months, returning with what they claimed were valuable treasures.
I watched them bicker and tease each other, just like they always did. They would probably argue like this for the rest of their lives. And for some reason, the thought brought me comfort.
In early fall, Fishlegs came to visit. The weather had started to turn, and the pain in my legs was almost unbearable. He brought me herbs he had gathered in the forest, claiming they would ease the pain.
I accepted gratefully, and Hiccup took it upon himself to brew me a tonic every morning. He, who cherished every minute of sleep, would wake before dawn to prepare it for me. He always claimed he hated mornings, but for a while, his efforts seemed to make a difference. I felt stronger.
As autumn deepened, Gobber passed away peacefully in his sleep. Hiccup grieved for him as deeply as he had grieved for his own father, sobbing against my chest until dawn broke. Gobber's last words, apparently, were to request that his hammer be melted down and forged into a prosthetic leg for Hiccup.
At winter's beginning, Tuffnut returned alone. His expression mirrored Hiccup's after Toothless left.
He sat silently by the fire, clutching a mug of lukewarm yak's milk, his face etched with grief. Hiccup kept the fire roaring in the hearth, and for a while, the warmth eased the ache in my joints.
"Ruffnut…" he began, his voice thick with emotion.
My heart sank.
He fell silent again, then took a deep breath. "We were passing by an island, and… she… she was hit by a… by a poisoned arrow… those islanders…" He broke off, unable to go on.
I looked at his hunched shoulders and realized that the man we all teased for being an overgrown child was now an old man with streaks of gray in his beard.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in my knees, I got out of bed and went to reheat the milk. His stifled sobs followed me, and I turned away. I couldn't bear to watch him relive that pain… not again.
The next day, Tuffnut set sail with a clay urn clasped tightly in his arms. It contained Ruffnut's ashes. He told us that before landing on that island, he and Ruffnut had been arguing about whether to sail east or west. Now, he was going west, to an island Ruffnut had once described, an island inhabited by monkeys she claimed were just as obnoxious and loud as Tuffnut himself.
I never saw him again. Part of me liked to believe he found that island of "Tuffnut monkeys" and decided to stay. Perhaps that was where he and Ruffnut were meant to be all along.
Extra Chapter: Buried Heart
Hiccup's POV
When Astrid told me she was pregnant, my mind went blank for a moment. A foreign sense of joy washed over me, and I instinctively nuzzled her stomach, as if I could hear the faint heartbeat of the life growing inside. She gently pushed me away, laughing, and we lay back on the grass, staring up at the sky. The sun was blinding, and tears pricked my eyes. I raised my hand to shield them, forcing a smile onto my lips.
We had walked for a long time that day. I had been worried about Astrid tiring herself out, but my concerns were unfounded. Even when my prosthetic leg ached, she was still full of energy. A true Viking warrior, strong and resilient.
We ate a simple dinner and went to bed early, our conversation turning to the future as we eagerly made plans for the child we hadn't even met. Naturally, the first thing that came to mind was a name.
"What do you think we should name the baby?" Astrid asked, her eyes shining in the firelight. Even on the cusp of motherhood, she still possessed a youthful vibrancy.
"Hmm, let me think… Oh, no… I'm too tired! " I feigned a yawn.
Astrid punched me playfully on the arm.
"Hey, I promise I'll have a list of amazing names for you tomorrow. Both boy and girl names! That was a long walk. Come on, let's get some sleep. I love you, Astrid."
"Fine, you win. But you better deliver! I love you too, Hiccup."
She must have been exhausted, because she fell asleep almost immediately. But sleep evaded me. My thoughts were a tangled mess. I turned away from Astrid and stared into the dying embers of the fire.
As the hours passed, the initial euphoria began to fade, replaced by a gnawing emptiness and a growing sense of unease.
I had lied to Astrid. I hadn't been completely honest with her about my feelings, not even to myself. I couldn't even remember what I had felt in that moment, but whatever it was, it hadn't been pure joy. I should have been happy. I needed to be happy.
Astrid's steady breathing filled the room. I felt her warmth beside me, but instead of peace and contentment, all I felt was… resentment.
I hated myself for it.
I slipped out of bed and crept over to the cupboard, retrieving a cloth-wrapped bundle from its depths.
I glanced back at Astrid. She was still fast asleep.
I settled down by the fire and unwrapped the bundle. In my hands, I held a tattered red tail fin.
Red, the color of blood pumping through a beating heart.
"Thor Almighty, Toothless! You overgrown lizard! You tore your tail fin again?"
I traced the familiar scratches on the surface.
"Who wants to try out a brand new tail fin?"
The skull I had repainted dozens of times over the years was barely visible now, hidden beneath layers of new paint and patched-up tears.
"What do you think you're doing? Hey, stop that! Don't you want a new tail? You want the old one? Fine, fine, I'll fix it. Stop licking it! You know that stuff doesn't come off!"
I buried my face in my hands. My palms were damp.
I was the chief of Berk. Astrid's husband. The father of her child.
I stared into the flickering flames until dawn approached, my thoughts spiraling. I huddled closer to the fire, seeking solace in its warmth, then crawled back into bed. Astrid's steady breathing lulled me into a restless sleep.
Toothless stood at the edge of a cliff, watching me. We were alone.
In my dream, he looked the same as he did when he left, his sleek, metallic tail fin gleaming in the sunlight. He didn't need me to fix this one.
"Hey, bud," I said, my voice tight. "Looks like this is really goodbye."
Toothless didn't move. He just stared at me with those calm, knowing eyes, his golden-green gaze reflecting my own forced smile.
I sighed, fighting back a sob.
"Don't… don't look at me like that. It's not like I'm the one who made you leave… You're… you're not even really here. You're safe in the Sanctuary. This… this is just a ghost in my head. Go on, bud. It's time to let go."
I turned away, unable to bear his gaze any longer. A gust of wind swept through the dream, and when I turned back, he was gone. Only a tattered red tail fin remained, lying on the ground where he had stood.
I had finally let him go. Truly let him go.
I woke as dawn broke, the stars still visible in the sky.
Sleep was impossible now. I got dressed, grabbed the red tail fin, and slipped out of the house. No one saw me leave as I set sail for Berk, the rising sun my only companion.
I made my way through the familiar forest, following a path overgrown with weeds. If I hadn't known better, I would have lost my way.
I reached the familiar cliff and scrambled down, my prosthetic leg clattering against the rocks. A slope that I used to navigate with care as a boy now seemed effortless.
I pushed through a thicket of ferns and emerged into the cove.
The small lake was a still, reflective pool, the clouds mirrored on its surface. Ferns thrived in the shadows, and vines clung to the rock walls.
I approached a familiar boulder, its surface blackened by fire.
This was Toothless' favorite spot. He used to blast the rock with fire to warm it up before settling down for a nap.
I ran my hand over its rough surface, a chill spreading through me.
The ground was overgrown, so I sat down, my back against the cool rock. I imagined Toothless curled up beside me, his head resting on the ground where my own head had once rested. I had no doubt he had chosen this spot on purpose.
I had spent years trying to forget him, yet here I was, allowing myself to relive our past. Perhaps it was only in parting that we truly understood the depth of our connection.
The sun climbed higher in the sky. I had a council meeting that afternoon.
I stood and walked over to the lake, choosing a spot near the edge. I dug a hole with my dagger and gently placed the tail fin inside. I worked quickly, afraid that if I stopped, I would lose my nerve.
I buried Toothless there, whispering a final farewell. What did I say? I couldn't remember.
Then, I left Berk, never looking back.
Astrid didn't ask where I had been that morning. She simply greeted me with breakfast when I returned.
"I've been thinking about names," I mumbled, my mouth full of bread. "What do you think of Zephyr for a boy? And if it's a girl… Ruffnut?"
Astrid stopped in her tracks and rushed over to me, throwing her arms around my neck.
I choked on my yak's milk, startled.
"What? What is it? You don't like the names?"
"No, I love them! Only you could come up with such perfect names, Hiccup."
I gazed at her, her blond hair catching the light.
"I love you, Astrid."
"I love you too, Hiccup," she replied, kissing me softly.
I never dreamed of Toothless again. Not after that day. Because I had finally let him go.
Years passed.
"Dad, are dragons real?"
Zephyr, my son, gazed up at me with wide, innocent eyes. Eyes that reminded me of someone else, someone whose eyes had held the same innocent light, although tinged with gold.
"Of course they are, son," I said, scooping him up in my arms.
"Then why haven't I ever seen one?"
I lifted him higher, kissing his cheek.
"Because they've gone away. Back to their own world. But even though they're gone, the Vikings of Berk and the dragons will always be… friends from a distance."
Astrid smiled at us from where she sat by the fire. Even with a new baby girl in her arms, she was still as beautiful and fierce as ever. She deserved better than me. Better than what I could give her…
That day, while sifting through a box of old belongings, I stumbled upon a familiar black scale tucked inside a worn notebook. On that page, I had sketched a Night Fury. It was from the second time I met Toothless. I had kept one of his scales as a memento, pressing it between the pages. I had forgotten about it.
I had tried to throw that scale away countless times, but I could never bring myself to do it. In the end, I tucked it inside my vest, over my heart.
It was then that I realized some things could never truly be let go. Some wounds never fully healed. All we could do was bury them deep inside, steal a fleeting glance when no one was looking, and pretend we had moved on.
But that year, so many people I loved had been ripped from my grasp. My mother. Gobber. Ruffnut. Tuffnut. And then…
Astrid's health deteriorated with each passing winter. The chill she had caught all those years ago had settled deep in her bones, leaving her weak and frail. I left Berk in Zephyr and Ruffnut's capable hands as winter descended, determined to spend what little time we had left together.
Each morning, when the sun was high in the sky, I wrapped her in blankets and carried her outside to soak up the meager warmth. Winters in the North were long and dark, but that year, the sun seemed to shine more often. We sat on the porch, two old souls huddled together in rocking chairs, talking about nothing and everything. More often than not, she would drift off to sleep, and I would watch the waves crashing against the shore, the seabirds soaring overhead.
One night, she asked to see the moon. I carried her outside, but there was no moon that night.
"Tomorrow night," I promised, kissing her forehead. "We'll come out tomorrow night, and we'll see the moon."
"Alright," she whispered.
"When spring comes," I said, "and the weather warms up, and your legs don't ache so much… I'll build you a wheeled chair. We'll go up to our hill, and you can sit in the sun. I've already drawn up the plans." It had taken days, those sketches. My eyes weren't as sharp as they used to be.
Astrid didn't reply.
I thought she had fallen asleep. As I reached for her, she suddenly clutched my sleeve, her grip surprisingly strong.
"Hiccup," she said, her voice weak but clear, "I was awake that night. The night you… the night you buried Toothless' tail fin."
Her words were like daggers piercing my heart, unearthing the grief I had buried so deep inside.
I broke down, my body wracked with sobs.
"Hiccup?" she asked, her brow furrowed. "Why are you crying?"
She wrapped her frail arms around my neck, and I felt myself drowning in guilt. I hadn't cried like this in decades, not since…
Her eyes, once as blue as the summer sky, struggled to focus.
"I love you, Hiccup," she whispered.
I couldn't reply. All I could do was apologize, over and over again, my hands clutching my hair as if I could hold myself together.
A soft smile touched her lips. For a fleeting moment, I saw a glimpse of the fearless, beautiful girl I had fallen in love with all those years ago.
She leaned against me, her head heavy on my chest. She never opened her eyes again.
I cried until there were no tears left, not just for Astrid, but for everything I had lost, for every unspoken word, for every dream left unfulfilled.
Through my tears, I saw her.
Astrid, as she was at twenty. Her blond hair in braids, her eyes shining, her skin smooth and radiant. She was smiling, that familiar, mischievous smile that could light up even the darkest night.
She pulled me close, and I clung to her, my body trembling.
"It's alright, Hiccup," she whispered, stroking my thinning hair. "It's alright. I understand."
"Astrid…" I choked out, "I… I couldn't give you everything. Not even close… I…"
"Don't. Don't blame yourself. I made my choices. I got to spend my life with you. I got to see our children grow up. I got to see Berk become everything I ever dreamed it could be. And it was all because of you. What more could I possibly ask for?"
I couldn't speak. All I could do was repeat her name, a litany of love and loss.
"Thank you, Hiccup." Her voice was fading. "These past years… they've been the happiest of my life. All I ask is that you… that you find a way to be happy. To live the life you were meant to live. Because you're still my Hiccup, the brave, stubborn boy who always followed his heart, no matter the cost."
"I love you, Hiccup," she whispered, her voice barely audible now.
And then, she was gone, dissolving into a thousand points of light.
I felt something inside me shatter, something that had been broken for far too long.
"Thank you, Astrid," I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears.
I started writing again, picking up where I had left off all those years ago.
Memories I had tried to suppress resurfaced. Happy memories, painful memories. Memories of beginnings and endings. I relived them all, each one etched into my mind, as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.
I wrote it all down, pouring my heart and soul into the pages of the Dragon Manual. All the words I had left unspoken, all the feelings I had kept locked away.
I remembered that day by the lake, the day I buried Toothless' tail fin. I remembered the words I had whispered, words I thought I had forgotten.
Farewell, my buried heart.
Now, I unearthed that buried heart, piece by broken piece. Or perhaps, it had never truly been buried at all. Perhaps I had merely pretended it was gone.
I wrote one last entry in the Dragon Manual, addressed to Toothless. I didn't care if he ever read it. It was everything I had left to give.
Toothless,
I know we made a promise. A promise to stay away. To let each other go. But I can't… not anymore. Astrid always said I should follow my heart. And my heart… it's leading me back to you.
I'm coming home.
Yours always,
Hiccup
I walked through the endless darkness.
Finally, I reached a land of perpetual night. The sky above was a bottomless black, devoid of even a single star. Icy fog billowed around me, but I no longer felt the cold, only the sting of ice shards against my skin.
A river flowed through this desolate landscape, its waters dark and turbulent. A gilded crystal bridge arched over the river, seemingly suspended in mid-air. As I stepped onto the bridge, I realized it wasn't floating at all. Invisible in the darkness, gossamer threads held it aloft.
A figure stood at the other end of the bridge, shrouded in rags. To call it a "man" would be inaccurate. It was little more than a decaying skeleton, two eerie flames flickering where its eyes should have been.
"Dead one," a voice rasped, sounding like the grinding of rusty gears. "Where is your carriage?"
"My… carriage? I didn't… I didn't have anything when I died. Except for my prosthetic leg. Wait… my leg?" I looked down in surprise to find my leg whole and unharmed. My reflection in the dark water showed me as I was at fifteen.
"Those who enter the underworld return to the age at which they were happiest," the emotionless voice replied.
The skeletal figure shuffled closer. "Dead one," it rasped, its jaw unhinging at an unnatural angle. "To cross this bridge, you must offer a payment of blood."
The flames in its sockets flickered with macabre amusement.
"Take it," I said. What use did a soul have for such things?
But as the creature lunged, it suddenly stopped short, its bony frame rattling, not with anger, but with… fear. The flames in its sockets dimmed, and it froze, once again resembling a centuries-old skeleton guarding the bridge, its empty sockets fixed on the path behind me.
"What… what was that?" I stammered. "Why did you let me pass?"
The skeleton remained silent. I wasted no time putting as much distance as possible between myself and the unsettling creature.
I crossed the bridge and entered a forest of strange, metallic trees. Their leaves were thin as gossamer, shimmering with a cold, sharp light.
I reached a towering gate. A monstrous hound, its fur stained with blood, lay beside it. Its bulk rivaled a Red Death's, and drool dripped from its fangs.
A woman in a black gown materialized before me. Her skin was as white as bone, her face gaunt, her eyes vacant.
"The Master… bids you… enter," she said, her voice a hollow whisper.
I blinked, and found myself standing in a vast hall. A woman sat upon a throne of obsidian, clad in a flowing gown of gray and black. Her face was half-hidden by a veil, but the portion I could see was beautiful, in a cold, lifeless way, like a flower blooming in the underworld. Her eyes were hidden in shadow.
I had heard tales of this place, of the being who ruled it. This was Hela, the Goddess of Death.
"Mortal," she said, her voice as cold and sharp as the icy air. "Why do you linger in this realm? Why have you not passed on?"
"How… how do I move on?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"The wicked are cast into the river Slid, their souls flayed and tormented for eternity. Those who died with unfinished business linger in my halls, until their grudges fade and their souls find peace. Those who died of old age or illness cross the bridge, pass through the Ironwood, and enter the gates of Valhalla. They drink from the Well of Urd, and their souls are reborn. Why do you cling to the memories of your past life? What is it that you cannot let go?"
"I… I need to see someone," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "No, not a someone. A something."
Hela regarded me with chilling indifference.
"Then wait with Modgud," she finally said. "Wait until you are ready to forget."
I found myself back on the bridge. The skeletal figure stood where I had left it.
As I approached, the flames in its sockets flickered back to life.
"You've returned," the creature rasped, its bony fingers clenching. "Stay back! There's… there's something about your soul that… that unsettles me."
"Something about my soul?"
The creature pointed a bony finger at its own forehead.
"Here. A mark. Another soul, a powerful one, has bound itself to yours, protecting you. That is why I could not drain your blood." Its gaze turned inward. "The Ironwood… it strips away memories. Each step you take, you forget a little more, until you reach the other side, stripped bare. But that mark… it shields you from the Ironwood's effects. Unless… unless you choose to let go."
I couldn't help but chuckle humorlessly. So even in death, he wouldn't let me forget.
"So, you… you're waiting for someone?" I asked.
The creature nodded, its jaw clicking. "I don't remember. All I know is that I'm waiting. Waiting for him. Or perhaps it's a her. I walked halfway through the Ironwood, but I couldn't remember his face. I ran back here, and Hela… She made me the bridgekeeper. Said I could wait here until I recognized him."
"But…" I began. He wouldn't recognize him, not anymore. He couldn't.
"He wouldn't recognize me," the creature said, as if reading my thoughts. "But it doesn't matter. I may have forgotten his face, but I'll know him by his soul. That's all I have left, you see, this… this faint spark of recognition. I've stood here for a thousand years, my soul slowly decaying. But I haven't seen him. Perhaps his soul is lost, scattered to the winds… I cling to this rotting shell, feeding on the lingering essence of newly departed souls, clinging to a fool's hope, refusing to move on. Perhaps in a few centuries, this last ember of my soul will fade, too."
I stared at Modgud, the bridgekeeper, a creature of darkness trapped in a realm without light, waiting for a soul who no longer remembered him. Would I be the next bridgekeeper? Perhaps it wasn't such a terrible fate. Even if that mark faded, even if I forgot who I was waiting for, the waiting itself… that was something I understood.
I stood beside Modgud on that bridge, our shared solitude a strange comfort. To conserve our energy, he would often fall into a deep sleep, leaving me to guard the bridge alone.
"So who are you waiting for?" I asked, when he finally stirred.
"A dragon," he croaked.
"A dragon?" I echoed, surprised. "The one who marked you?"
He nodded. "Dragons are favored by Odin. Millennia ago, they fought alongside the gods against the forces of darkness. Odin granted them long life, and some… some possess powerful souls, capable of forging bonds with those they are sworn to protect. He marked me with his soul, shielding me from harm."
Toothless had never mentioned this. None of the old legends spoke of such a thing. Perhaps, once, dragons had protected beings other than humans. But to protect… to be so important to someone…
"Well, you've got a long wait ahead of you," I said softly.
He chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. "Don't I know it."
"Why wait? Was he that important to you?" I asked, curiosity piqued.
"I… I believe I loved him," Modgud replied, his voice barely a whisper.
Words unsaid in life flowed freely in death. I didn't understand my feelings for Toothless, the strange mixture of longing and loss that had followed me into the afterlife. Perhaps "love" was the only word that came close to describing the complex bond we had shared, a bond between two souls.
Modgud fell silent, drifting back to sleep. Time, in this place, had no meaning. We waited. Centuries passed.
One day, a young woman approached the bridge.
"Three hundred years ago," Modgud said, pointing a bony finger at her, "that girl crossed this bridge. She begged me to send her back. Said there was a fool who needed her help, a fool who would blame himself forever if she didn't intervene."
My heart ached, a dull throb I hadn't felt in centuries. Astrid…
"I'd seen countless souls like her, clinging to unfinished business. But there was something about her… perhaps it was her hair, the way it reminded me of sunlight after a thousand years of darkness… I granted her request. Sent her back for a little while."
I approached the girl. She was frozen at seventeen, the age at which she seemed happiest.
"Did you live a happy life, sister?" I asked, surprising even myself with the question.
She looked up, startled. Then, a gentle smile spread across her face. "Yes," she replied. "I did."
I envied her. I watched her go, a bittersweet ache in my chest, as she disappeared into the darkness at the end of the bridge.
"You know her?" Modgud's voice startled me.
"Yes," I said quietly. "She was… She was my Astrid." Toothless was my impossible dream, but Astrid… Astrid had been my everything.
Modgud rasped, his voice weaker than before. "My soul… it's fading. I can feel it slipping away." He reached out a bony hand, and I flinched, instinctively drawing back.
"Wait," he croaked. "I'm giving you… my strength. It's not much… but it will allow you to be reborn… as one of them."
"Reborn? As a… as a dragon? But what about you? You'll…"
"After a thousand years… it's time I let go." His voice was little more than a whisper now. "Perhaps… perhaps he never even made it to this realm. Don't you worry. I'm merely coming along for the ride. I'll… I'll slumber within your soul… until you find him for me." He chuckled, the sound dry and brittle. "I know what it's like to wait. Consider this a parting gift, little Hiccup."
He spoke my name for the first time, and I wanted to cry, but souls didn't have tears.
"A dragon's life is long. Perhaps… perhaps you'll have better luck finding him. And if not… well, then it simply wasn't meant to be." He paused, his tone turning serious. "But souls cannot be reborn with their memories intact. You'll forget, for a time. But don't worry. You'll remember. Eventually."
He touched my forehead, and a wave of dizziness washed over me. The darkness around me swirled, and then… there was nothing.
I stumbled through the Ironwood, my memories fading with every step. I reached the gates of Valhalla and heard the sound of rushing water.
The Well of Urd.
Modgud's magic swirled around me, a comforting presence. I looked back, but he was gone.
My past life, my human life, felt like a distant dream. I plunged into the icy water and surrendered to the darkness.