CHAPTER 27: Jubilation

It hadn't even hit dawn yet, but Ancient Island was beaming with activeness. Thousands of viking troops were all ready to set sail to Northern Market island with the intent of marching in and annexing the whole island, absorbing it into the Ancient Tribe.

Tens of thousands of regular Ancient vikings were gathered around the outskirts of the village, with heaps of big boats within sight from the shores. Alfa Yurlin, the leader & chieftan, was set to make his order known to his vikings. A big wooden platform was set up on the sand just besides the shallow waters that Yurlin was to stand on to make his speech.

In his background, the thousands of viking troops positioned on the boats, all armoured up and ready to go, looked intimidating. Their gear was primarily steel shoulder blades with chain mail and viking helmets in which the spikes stood up particularly high like the horns of a bull. They had rusty brown gear belts which wrapped around their torsos, from crossbows to a sharp, straightened out steel sword. Their brown boots stood about 12 inches up to their legs which allowed them to walk potentially difficult terrain without any injuries.

The whole atmosphere right now surrounding this part of Ancient Island resembled that of the environment that surrounded the battle between Drago and Stoick with Hiccup and the two bewilderbeasts. Heaps of boats with vast sails coated on the shores, lines and groups of armoured up vikings boarding the boats readying to sail.

It looked like a complete replay of that environment during the battle of the bewilderbeasts. Except this was a resurgent tribe having gone through a long period of rearmament within an archipelago that had gone 'dormant' in that respect following Grimmel's defeat at the hands of Hiccup - no tribe had any need or desire to fight old battles given the state of the world today without the dragons, they all just wanted to live peaceful, collaborating lives with their fellow vikings, and so the Ancients were the only tribe to go through full on rearmament in the post-dragon world.

A massive group of vikings started gathering on the wooden stage, and surrounded within the middle of them was none other than the man himself, the proclaimed leader, not Chieftan as often, but 'leader' of the Ancient Tribe. Alfa Yurlin walked up to the stage with a huge grin on his face as he wore a black leather coat, with an inner chain mail body and also the same boots that his troops were wearing. His leather coat gave him the appearance of a viking who had a huge grip on power.

Not least, his helmet's spikes were double in height compared to those of his vikings. The leather coat truly gave him that intimidating aura. Unlike previous announcements where the second his presence emerged on the platform cheers would break out, not a single cheer was heard this time. The vikings gathering within the thousands to witness their Chieftan and the masses of troops behind him in the boats were told to not undermine the significance of this moment right now by cheering.

It was the first time the vikings could get away without cheering their leader without risking their lives as a result.

Yurlin adjusted his leather coat and stood in front of the wooden podium on the platform, looking proudly to the thousands of vikings stood in front of him among the shores climbing up to the villages. He looked like he hadn't slept all night, and even though he didn't, he still had energy. This was going to be his second act of aggression but unlike the militarization of Old Berk, this was to be his first ever annexation. He could feel all the eyes of the archipelago on him and the tribe.

"To all of my people," yelled Yurlin, his voice hurling and echoing through the wind like a roaring lion, "I have decided to place the aid of our tribe at the disposal of the hundreds of vikings who believe in our rationale on the Northern Market island."

Yurlin's voice was incredibly strong and oozing with charisma, he could grab the attention of every dragon if they were still around and stop them from firing their blazes at whatever they were firing at. He was that charismatic and authentic.

"From the moment I was called upon to put dignity back into the word 'viking', it has been my destiny to rescue, to aid, to protect this archipelago from the Warlords overseas. Their ideology is a poison and the poison requires an antidote that won't back down at any bluff. Today, my first antidote is to bring the Northern Markets back into our tribe, and I am about to fulfill this mission on behalf of you all."

Yurlin's claim that he was 'bringing back' the Northern Market island into his tribe had absolutely no foundation. It was simply a propaganda tactic to give legitimacy to the upcoming annexation to his vikings. The Northern Markets have never ever been apart of the Ancients.

"To turn back and not do this would be a failure on my behalf to all of you. One of my duties as your Chieftan was to acquire living space for our tribe, at the expense of the unvikings as they strive to ensure Drago Bludvist remains the despicable threat to viking peace. I will not negotiate with any of the tribes who may seek to push back on our intention this morning. This is non-negotiable and it is only a matter of time until we must do battle with the Warlords. Today's action will not only ensure we have the living space needed to accommodate our island's incredibly large population, but to also enslave and experiment upon the unvikings we'll come across and, at their expense, deprive them of a hut so you, my vikings, can populate our newly acquired land."

Yurlin was shortly about to conclude his speech, and he was ready to proclaim his tribe, in light of the action he was ordering today, as a telling reference.

"My fellow men, your families, everyone here today witnessing history, I make this very meaningful proclamation. We are not simply a tribe, but in light of our liberating moves today and as we seek to make our goals imperatively heard and recognized across this archipelago, we are the 'First Tribe'."

Alfa Yurlin's proclamation of the Ancient Tribe as being 'The First Tribe' was no accident. Him and his council viewed the Ancient Tribe as the only legitimate tribe with true viking morals as they consistently claim they want to return the world to the lifestyle of seven generations ago. The 'First Tribe' proclamation comes from Yurlin's view that when he's done with whatever else he's got left to demand in the form of territory, his tribe will have enough of a presence to call itself the first tribe at the expense of the other tribes, some of whom he feels had been infiltrated by the 'unvikings'.

Pretty much, in Yurlin's ideology, certain other tribes never existed. 'The First Tribe' was now the informal name for the Ancient Tribe, and the annexation was set to begin.

"SO LET THEM CONDEMN US, LET OUR ENEMIES IN THE WARLORDS DARE ATTACK, FOR WHEN THE GREAT WAR COMES WE WILL MERCILESSLY RETURN THE FAVOUR!" yelled Yurlin.

At that, the entire crowd of Ancients in front of Yurlin and his delegation saluted and cheered. Chants of 'Our Yurlin' broke out like a wave among them. Young boys, old men, a couple of wives and mother vikings among the crowd did the exact same.

With the roars of cheers and chants, Yurlin turned around to face the huge collection of boats and troops, and he gave off a salute to them. They were ready to set sail.


The boats, in their tens housing over a thousand Ancient viking troops, had arrived at Northern Market islands. They weren't quite at the shores yet but it'd only be a few minutes.

They were under orders to march onto the island with absolutely no resistance expected. They were equally prepared to deal with such resistance if they were met with it. The order, given by Yurlin, matched with the letter he'd secretly sent back with Kurt on his sail back home.

And unknown to the incoming armada, they were to be met with zero resistance to their arrival, because Kurt himself had begged his tribe not to put up a fight - not only would it be a one sided massacre, but Kurt, having tried everything in his world to appease Yurlin and to please him to stop the destruction of his tribe's independence, had simply given up. Nothing worked, and he realized that Yurlin couldn't be appeased - he couldn't cope with the stress, the sleepless nights, the apprehension any longer. He wanted it to happen because it truly felt inevitable, but that didn't mean he wasn't going through measures to try and evacuate some of the vikings on the island.

"What's gonna happen to us?" cried a viking child within his family's hut - his mum and dad were locked away hiding as they sighted the boats of the Ancients a short distance away from the hole in their hut.

"You need to swim away. Quick, follow us son and we'll run you to the other side of the island."

The mum and dad swiftly opened their front door, and the situation outside on the island was manic. Kurt the Kourageous was nowhere to be seen, but scrambling all over the plains and the village were panicked vikings, many of whom were loudly crying and uttering words of fright. The sound of multiple boots slamming the grass as they ran over the place was prominent. They were horrified at the sight of the Ancient boats shortly set to hit their shores, they didn't want to be taken over by tyrannical vikings led by a tyrant.

Some of them were throwing as much gear onto their hands as they could physically carry, some of them were dragging their small wooden hand crafted boats to the waters to sail away before the Ancients made land. Notably, one family was encouraging young children to follow them to the shores with their boat - they were wanting to evacuate as much of the young kids as possible.

"Mate, MATE?!" yelled the father of the crying child, "sorry, can our son go with you? under no circumstances do we want these evil lads to get their hands on him, please...just take our son lad, and get him off here."

It was only a matter of minutes before the Ancients physically landed on the shores, so this was a frantic rush - the sweat dripping from everyone was like a waterfall as their chests ached a painful sensation from the absolute fear.

The biggest fear of all about the Ancients was based particularly in their ideological view of 'unvikings' - it'd be very easy for them to point at any viking to be one of them, and the fear the Northern Market vikings had was that their children would be the first ones the Ancients would point at as being unvikings because of them being young vikings from a different tribe altogether, meaning a fatal outcome for them. That was why they were so keen to get their kids evacuated, even if it meant they'd never see them again.

The Ancients' ideological belief in the rise of the 'unvikings' had evidently cut through to a lot of the archipelago, and quite a few understood the basis of it: the vikings who Yurlin believed had contributed to the rise of Drago and Grimmel respectively by not being 'true' vikings. But what was stopping them from using that against absolutely anyone? the Yurlin regime had already executed a few of their own vikings, some of those being vikings who initially SUPPORTED Yurlin when he became Chieftan, for merely making a joke about him.

So even those who were on the side of Yurlin weren't safe from the Ancient Tribe's draconian governing. And that was precisely why the Northern Market vikings here were desperate to get their kids off the island before the Ancients arrived.

"Get over here laddy, quick," said the old viking with a long beard who was carrying the boat, "we need to get as much of you young'uns off here as possible."

"Why can't we just fight back?!" said the mother of the child, holding her boy in her hands before they sent him off.

"Kurt, our grand Chieftan, told us not to. Lass, he's made a grave mistake by letting these incoming fellas walk over us."

She couldn't believe why Kurt had done this - of course, she wasn't aware that Yurlin, no matter what, was going to annex the island regardless of how much appeasing he'd be getting. The mother knelt down to her boy, as did his father, and they both took off their helmets.

"Whatever you do," she said, her eyes tearing up, "please don't forget us son, you go out there...you find somewhere safe, and please...just know that we'll be okay. If we're lucky, the Hooligans will come to our rescue. Try and get to their island and seek refuge. We know Hiccup, as the son of Stoick, would let you do that."

The son nodded before fully embracing his parents - they were giving him both their helmets as a way of him to never forget them. The helmets were heavy and rusty steel but he wasn't hesitating at all in taking them to remember his parents.

"I love you, mum and dad."

"We love you too. Now go, please, get off here before they arrive."

The two heartbroken vikings watched as their kid rushed with the other kids and the couple of big width vikings with their hand crafted boats.


The boats had stopped on the shores. The armada was unloading with heaps of Ancient vikings armoured up, and they began marching in sync with each other as they departed. One by one, they marched their boots all in line initially across the shallow waters of the island. Five rows of Ancients all together gradually departed and they looked like one gigantic collection as a result.

Some of the vikings were carrying bag packs made of leather. Supplies were vital in this act of annexation in which they were going to cross onto the island, completely disregarding the sovereignty of the island in the process. The sound of their marching boots was intimidating, especially as they gradually emerged onto the sand.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the island, the younger vikings were starting to push their boats onto the seas with them all packed into each one overcrowded. They wanted to get away before the Ancients could see them from land. They were frantically waving their palms through the salty water like the wings of a flying bird.

The marching vikings broke land and they were now, in their thousands, marching through the village. Initially the village was apocalyptic, dead as if an asteroid had struck and put to extinction everybody. But as they performed what looked like goose steps with their marching, hundreds of vikings broke out from the nearby huts and, rather than panicking, they actually came out and cheered the incoming Ancients.

The group that was panicking earlier were indeed the majority of the island, but there were some on the Northern Markets who were genuinely in celebration at the arrival of the Ancients, and for one simple reason - they feared Drago Bludvist and agreed secretly with Yurlin's desire to bring the world back to how it was seven generations ago. None of them knew the full extent of Yurlin's dark 'unvikings' theory though, nor the possibility that it'd be extremely easy for the Ancients to class them as that group.

They had to hide their secret admiration for Alfa Yurlin's ideology prior to this, it appealed to them in the face of Drago still being alive. They thought the Ancients would genuinely protect them and being absorbed into their tribe would give them the chance to have a lifestyle genuinely similar to that of their relatives hundreds of years ago.

Nonetheless, they were eager and happy and incredibly celebratory. Ever since Drago was revealed to still be alive, plenty of vikings were apprehensive about him, and to that same group, the Ancients were much more preferable, and that was more or less the mindset of the celebrating vikings right now.

More and more vikings gathered around the marching Ancients as they formally made their way into the village in their thousands. Cheers, claps and salutes greeted them from the jubilation. The troops remained in formation and didn't initially exchange any words with the Northern Market vikings who were cheering, but then out of nowhere women vikings started running out to the Ancient troops and threw flowers at them - then, in one instance, they actually kissed an Ancient viking.

The Ancient vikings had to just gently push them aside as they made their march. The whole island, as it packed up with marching Ancients, resembled not a sovereign tribe anymore but a military island. The troops didn't seem phased by the cheering reaction they were getting from the relieved vikings around them, but they were surprised at just how jubilant they were being.

Kurt the Kourageous could hear the cheers and the marching boots outside. He was locked away inside the hall with just himself and a couple of his close vikings. He couldn't believe that he'd failed his tribe like this, and allow Yurlin to bully him this way. As a result, Kurt had enough evidence to see Yurlin for what he was - and what he was was far from the diplomatic 'liberator' that he portrayed himself as when he met Kurt.

This was a man who evidently desired to absorb tribes into his twisted regime for the sake of building up a great dictatorship across the archipelago at the expense of innocent vikings, under the banner of seeking out the 'unvikings' in the process. He despised Drago and wanted to rid the world of him for good, but Kurt acknowledged that if Yurlin's allowed to get away with bullying and annexing tribes like this, it'll just be trading one tyrant for another. That is, if Drago dies and the Warlords cease to exist as a result of the Ancients, then the Ancients will become the new threat, just as much, if not worse, given their ideological hatred of a specific group of vikings.

"I'm so sorry..." Kurt whispered.

Just as one of his close vikings was about to respond, the door to the hall was getting kicked from the outside like a huge boulder was being thrust against it. They all stood up and looked at the door, but before they knew it, daylight had suddenly broke through the door as it was burst open. Tens of Ancient vikings rushed into the hall and took a hold of Kurt aggressively, as they did with the other two vikings.

The Ancients were very careful not to show this action being taken against what was their previous Chieftan, in light of the surprisingly cheerful response they got from their arrival onto the island.

"Call this a hut arrest because you ain't leaving this hall for a very long time, not until our Chieftan gives us the order to bring you back to our island," said one of the Ancients who viciously gripped the ankles of Kurt.

Kurt didn't have the energy to respond. He had no idea what fate awaited him and his other close vikings. Enslavement? death? none of it would surprise Kurt, who was so accepting of this inevitability that he hadn't the energy to scream or panic about potentially dying.

He wished Hiccup had never sent the dragons away all those years ago to The Hidden World, for if they were still here, the rise of this draconian regime of a tribe never would've happened, and thus, this annexation never would've happened. It was all too late now though.