"human speech"

"dragon spech"

Berk, 12 A.M.

Hiccup waited patiently at the edge of the cliff, the moonlight casting a pale glow over the island below. He had spent weeks studying the village's routines—the guards, the patrol shifts, the comings and goings near the dragon arena. By midnight, most of Berk was deep in sleep, and the guards would be swapping posts. This was his moment.

"Toothless, are you ready to strike, bud?" Hiccup asked softly, his breath misting in the cold air.

Toothless turned his head, his eyes gleaming in the dark. "Yes, I'm ready. Let's go now."The Night Fury's voice was filled with quiet determination.

Hiccup smiled, his heart racing as he strapped on his helmet, the weight of his prosthetic leg clicking into place. It wasn't much, just something he had crafted himself after that terrible battle with the Red Death, but it had served him well so far.

"Alright, Toothless, let's put some holes in that arena," he said, his voice low but resolute. "And let's make sure they can never use it again."

Toothless gave a soft whistle, charging up his plasma blast as he leapt off the cliff, his wings catching the wind. The unmistakable Night Fury whistle echoed through the night, a sound that struck fear into the hearts of any who heard it.

--

Valka's POV

Valka jerked awake, the sudden whistle of a Night Fury slicing through her dreams. A loud boom followed, shaking the very walls of their home. She sat up, breathless, and glanced over at Stoick, who had also stirred beside her. He was already wide awake, the concern in his eyes reflecting her own.

"That sound... it's coming from the arena," Valka murmured, her heart pounding in her chest.

Before Stoick could respond, they heard more shouts from outside, growing louder by the second. "Was that a Night Fury?!"

Valka shot out of bed, moving instinctively toward the door. But before she could even reach it, Stoick's strong hands caught her by the shoulders.

"Val, stay here," he ordered, his voice rough with urgency. "It's too dangerous out there, especially with a Night Fury on the loose."

She wanted to argue, wanted to go out and see what was happening for herself, but Stoick's firm grip and the fear in his eyes made her pause. He closed the door behind him with a heavy thud, the sound of his boots echoing as he left the house, presumably heading to the arena.

Valka stood still for a moment, listening to the distant sounds of chaos. She could hear more explosions, the frantic shouts of the villagers—everyone was waking up now, trying to make sense of the situation. But all she could do was wait and hope Stoick would return to her safe.

--

Hiccup's POV

Hiccup moved cautiously through the dragon arena, his hand gently stroking the scales of the dragons he had freed. They were skittish at first, but he had been earning their trust, one small step at a time. He could feel their gratitude, a bond growing between them as he worked to set them free.

But then, he heard it—voices. They were shouting in a language he didn't fully understand yet, though he could pick out certain words. Something about the approaching guards—footsteps, heavy and deliberate, were coming toward him.

He looked around, scanning the darkened arena for a way out. One dragon, a SpikeTail, was still cautious, but Hiccup was close to winning its trust. He whispered soothing words, his voice calm and steady.

"Alright, bud, I think it's time to go before they get here," Hiccup muttered to the dragon, his hand gently urging it to move.

Suddenly, the large figure of a Viking appeared at the gate, his massive frame blocking the exit. He was armed with a war hammer, and his fury was palpable.

"You dare attack my village, demon!" the Viking yelled, his voice booming across the night air.

Hiccup didn't need to understand every word to know what was happening. This man—he could tell from the way he held himself—was the alpha, the one in charge. The one who would do anything to protect what he considered "his."

Hiccup's heart pounded, his mind racing. His fingers tightened around his dragon claws, his only means of defense.

"Alright, But i think it's time we leave," Hiccup murmured to Toothless, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Without warning, the Viking charged, war hammer raised high. Hiccup darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow, his heart hammering in his chest. With swift, practiced movements, he slashed at the Viking's legs, landing a few solid cuts as he dodged the hammer's heavy blows.

"Get the dragons, Toothless!" Hiccup shouted, his voice clear. Toothless, ever loyal, unleashed his plasma blast, destroying the barriers and freeing the remaining dragons.

"Let's go now!" Toothless urged, his voice full of urgency.

Hiccup turned and ran, slashing at the Viking's leg one last time, ensuring they wouldn't be followed. He sprinted toward Toothless, mounting the Night Fury just in time for them to soar into the night sky. The hole they'd created in the arena served as their escape, and the freed dragons followed them, a new wave of freedom following in their wake.

--

Stoick's POV

Stoick stood alone in the wreckage of the dragon arena, his chest heaving with exertion. He was bleeding from a few shallow cuts, but the pain barely registered in his mind. His focus was elsewhere—the arena was destroyed, the dragons gone. His warriors were in disarray, and there was nothing left but the aftermath of an attack by a demon child.

The villagers gathered around, murmuring in shock and outrage.

"This is an outrage!" someone shouted. "How are we supposed to train our children now?"

"How are we going to deal with that demon?" another voice cried.

Stoick raised his hand, silencing them with a single command. "Quiet!" His voice rang through the chaos. "We will talk about this in the morning."

With a heavy sigh, Stoick turned and walked away, ignoring the fearful murmurs behind him. His body ached, but it was the thoughts racing in his mind that gnawed at him. He needed Gothi to tend to his wounds, but his mind kept returning to the Night Rider.

This was the first time Stoick had seen the Night Rider up close—seen the child who had attacked his village. Black armor, blending into the night like a shadow. Eyes so green they glowed with an almost otherworldly fire. The way they fought—animalistic, wild, driven by some primal instinct.

Stoick's mind returned to the day his son, Hiccup, had been taken. He had vowed to avenge him, to make the dragon'sfor the loss. And now he couldn't help but wonder who this mysterious figure was. Who is this person? And why would they ally themselves with the very beasts that stole his first born from him?

He tried desperately to push away the memories of Hiccup, a ghost from his past that haunted him for over 16 years. Despite the passage of time, the weight of that day lingered heavily on his heart. Thoughts of his failure to protect Hiccup and his inability to arrive in time clawed at him, replaying like a relentless loop in his mind. The pain of that loss was a sharp reminder of his shortcomings, a shadow that refused to fade, no matter how hard he tried to forget.

Stoick's fists clenched, a deep, unspoken promise settling in his chest. One day, he would face this Night Rider. And when he did, it wouldn't be for vengeance alone. It would be for something more.