Chapter 2

Berk glowed in the warmth of the dawning sun. Not a cloud could be seen on the pinkish horizon and the breeze was gentle, evidence that the gods had seen fit to bless their voyage with a peaceful beginning.

Hiccup tightened the strap on one of Toothless's saddlebags. He could feel the dragon's restless energy and impatience.

"I know, bud," he said, rubbing the dragon's snout. "I know. We'll get going soon. Just gotta finish packing up. It's gonna be a long trip."

Hiccup hadn't prepared for a journey of this length in ages. With the responsibility of an entire village suddenly thrust upon him, Hiccup's opportunities for exploration dwindled steadily until they were few and far between. His focus shifted to the needs of his people, the rebuilding of Berk, and he threw himself into his duties more out of a need to forget than to prove himself. There was little time for soaring the skies freely with Toothless as much as he had before Drago's attack and his father's death, but it wasn't until now that he fully realized how much he missed it—how much he needed it.

Under Gothi's thorough care, Hamish had improved remarkably since his rescue, allowing them to set out several days sooner than Hiccup had hoped. Though the boy did regain some strength and his wounds had faded, the ashen, gaunt face remained much the same. The pallor only intensified when Hamish arrived at the docks that morning and caught sight of the swaying ships. Hiccup was quick to explain that they would not be sailing and instead travelling by less traditional means.

"You mean…flying?" Hamish asked hesitantly. "On dragon back? In the air?"

Hiccup smiled. "What else?"

"The dragons can travel faster than any ship," Astrid, who was tending to Stormfly beside them, reassured. "Which means we'll get to your island in half the time."

"Oh, thank Thor," Hamish breathed. "But is it…is it safe?"

"Perfectly!" said Hiccup. "We're dragon people. We've been at this for a while now, and trust me, we know what we're—"

At that moment, a large, hot plume of fire burst into the air a mere thirty feet behind them.

"My eyebrows!" somebody shrieked. "I can't feel my eyebrows!"

Hamish winced and retreated a hasty step while Hiccup simply sighed and turned around.

"Well…most of us. Okay, seriously, guys? We haven't even left yet!"

The smoke rolled away, revealing the expected guilty party. The twins—Tuffnut rolling on the ground as his sister stood doubled over—were consumed by fits of laughter. Beside them, Snotlout clenched his fists and fumed before catching sight of the audience.

"That wasn't me, Chief!" He pointed at the twins. "Berk Guard's honor! It was all them!"

"It was all us!" gasped the twins in unison. As usual, there were no qualms about openly admitting their involvement in any kind of calamity.

"But Snotlout might've helped a little—" Tuffnut started before Snotlout shoved a boot into his gut. "Agh!"

"So much for Berk's finest," grumbled Hiccup.

"Maybe bringing them along isn't such a great idea," Astrid remarked aside to him as the scene dissolved into a tussle in the dirt.

"They'll make a mess whether they stay here or come with us. It's probably better to bring them along where we can keep an eye on them."

"On the contrary." Hamish seemed mildly impressed. "With that kind of spirit and firepower, they may be exactly what Finnmark needs."

For the most part, Hiccup could agree with that. Chaotic as they were, the twins tended to keep some insane—albeit brilliant—ideas up their sleeves to pull out in the very nick of time and had even saved their fellow riders' skins on more than one occasion.

"We'll take what we can get. Besides," Hamish's tone dampened, "they can't possibly do more damage to our village than has already been done."

…

After saying their farewells, the riders and their new companion lifted off.

Clear skies, calm seas, a gentle breeze. It was one of those rare, perfect days that made it impossible to resist dashing to the nearest dragon and rushing out for a ride.

At first, as Toothless soared into the air at maximum speed, Hamish clung to Hiccup's middle. Given the favorable conditions, however, Hiccup was certain it wouldn't take long for him to warm up to the idea of flying.

"You okay back there?" he called to his passenger through the brisk wind. "Flying really is amazing once you get used to it."

"Um…"

"Don't worry, you don't have to answer right now, but let me just say, the view is incredible."

Hiccup felt the grip loosen slightly as Hamish dared to peek out from behind him.

"Oh…w-wow…" muttered Hamish in pure astonishment before ducking back behind him as Toothless banked slightly to catch a current. "You're right, it is incredible. Incredibly high."

"If it makes you feel any better, I was terrified the first time I flew with Toothless."

"R-really?"

"Why wouldn't I have been? Back in the day, no one had ever thought of riding a dragon before, and suddenly, there I was on the back of the fastest breed in the known world."

"And just how in the known world did you end up there in the first place?"

"He lost a tailfin in an accident. After I found him and gained his trust, I made him a prosthetic and we took it for a test flight one day. Neither of us had any idea what we were doing. He had to learn how to fly again, and I had to figure out how to help him."

"Remarkable. Simply remarkable. So remarkable, in fact, that I do get the feeling that there's much more to this tale than what you're telling me."

Hiccup shrugged. "Eh, you probably wouldn't want to hear it."

"Of course I would!" Hamish exclaimed, much to Hiccup's surprise. "I am a librarian, after all. Stories are my passion."

This could be the perfect distraction, something to keep Hamish occupied and calm for the duration of the flight.

"How did he lose his tailfin?"

"Ohhhoho, uh…" Caught off guard, Hiccup cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "So, about that…yeeeah, um, I…was the one who accidentally did that. Accidentally, eheh."

At this shocking revelation, Hamish's curiosity seemed to prove greater than his fear. He straightened a little.

"You what?"

"I said it was an—okay, let me fill you in on some background info. Dragons weren't always part of life on Berk. I-I mean, they were, just…not the way they are now. They stole all our food, destroyed our village, we tried to hunt them down and kill them for stealing our food and destroying our village, over and over and over. Seven generations later, we were still at it and it was worse than ever. All the cool kids got to be on the battlefield during dragon raids, running after the adults and putting out fires, but not me. I was the blacksmith's apprentice, always stuck in the forge and away from the action. You know, sharpening swords, fixing axes. I'd probably still be there if I hadn't had this crazy idea to try and catch a dragon myself."

"And did you?"

"Yep. I caught Toothless. He got tangled up in the bolas I launched at him and crashed in the woods behind the village. Nobody believed me, because what kind of skinny little talking fishbone of a fifteen-year-old could take down a Night Fury?"

"What did you do?"

"Something stupid." Smiling, Hiccup reached forward to give Toothless a pat on the head. The dragon rumbled happily in response. "I've always felt terrible for hurting him like I did, but," he clicked the prosthetic leg out from the mechanized stirrup, indicating it with a nod, "he got me back."

"Did he bite you?!"

"No…um, sort of. It was more like the tables had turned and this time I was unconscious and falling through a massive fireball and he caught me. It just happened to be by the leg and…well, he was trying to save me—it's kind of a long, complicated story that only leads to years of longer, more complicated stories. Heh, somebody could write a whole series of books about us if they wanted."

"Well, Chief Hiccup…"

"Just Hiccup."

"Right, right. Well, Hiccup, if you'd be so kind as to relate the rest of this extraordinary tale and maybe a few more, perhaps when this grief is past us and Finnmark is safe again, I'll find my way back to Berk and do just that. Except I absolutely refuse to travel by boat. Never again." He paused, carefully reaching down to stroke Toothless's side with one hand while still gripping a fistful of the back of Hiccup's shirt with the other. "It would be nothing short of the greatest honor to befriend and train a dragon of my own one day. Ah, I mean, with a little assistance, of course."

Hiccup grinned. "I think we can arrange that."

…

That evening, the riders landed and settled on a tiny, solitary island. A fire was lit, a meal shared, and soon most of the group wandered elsewhere on their own, eager to squeeze every bit of rest from the few precious hours they could spare from their urgent journey.

Wrapped in a scratchy woolen blanket close to the fire, Hamish dozed, his breathing quickly becoming deep and steady. Astrid carefully untangled and re-braided her windswept hair, then sat down beside Hiccup as he jabbed at the coals in the pit with a stick. Slipping her warm hand in his, she leaned against him with her head on his shoulder. As always, her presence was a great comfort.

"I'm so proud of you, Hiccup," she murmured.

"For what?"

"For making the right choice. It's what your father would have done. He would be proud too."

Hiccup closed his eyes and swallowed over the ever-present lump that lurked in his throat, the one always waiting for the chance to ambush and render him silent at the slightest mention of his father. Why was this so difficult? Why was it easier to push his emotions and memories back down into the depths of his mind and let them fester in dormancy while he made every effort to divert himself? How long could he go on like this before he either drove himself mad or finally forgot?

His heart sank further.

What if…what if that was the real reason he was on his way to Finnmark? What if his actions were nothing but a selfish lie, a cover for his need to be constantly busy with something, anything, just to get through another day?

"Astrid, I'm…I'm not my father."

"You don't have to be."

"And I'm not the mighty warrior Hamish thinks I am. I mean, you saw how he reacted back on Berk."

"Yep, I did, and you're absolutely right."

Hiccup blinked. "Wow, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better."

"You may not look like the 'hero' Hamish was expecting, but you are our chief, and you earned that right in your own way. Besides, Hamish was the one who pointed out that heroism doesn't always have to be about weapons and brawn, remember?"

"Okay, but I'm not the chief of Finnmark. How could my father be proud of a son who abandons his own people to fight for a land we've never even heard of?"

Astrid sighed and repositioned, fixing him with a hard stare, the classic signals of an oncoming lecture he likely needed to hear.

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, do you even remember one word of that speech you gave us in the Great Hall a couple nights ago? You are doing exactly what you said you'd do for exactly the reason you said. You're doing what you feel is right, which is what Stoick would have done. It's what he always did. That's why I know he would be proud of you. For being the kind of leader who would use our unique position not only for our own good, but to help others as well. And, most importantly, for being the kind of person who would wouldn't think twice about it. You're more like him than you realize, but think that's a good thing."

Hiccup couldn't hold back a small smile. "So, you're saying I'm stubborn and bullheaded and sometimes difficult to understand or communicate with?"

"Well, yeah," Astrid laughed softly, "naturally, but what I meant is that Stoick was a great leader; brave, kind, and strong. You have those same qualities, Hiccup, and more. Maybe you shouldn't doubt yourself so much."

It was more a command than a request, and it had already proven much easier said than done, however, he took great comfort in the fact that, doubt himself as he may, she never would.

Slipping an arm around her shoulders, Hiccup drew her close again.

"Thank you, Astrid," he whispered.

"Hey, somebody's got to keep you from going crazy, dragon boy."

"Or drive him that way—hoomf!" He was never quite prepared for that playful jab in the ribs Astrid sometimes gave him when he teased her. It always seemed to come out of nowhere like a perfectly aimed arrow and there was nobody to blame but himself.

"Ow. I probably deserved that."

"Yep." She giggled, then nestled back into him. He loved it when she did that. "Really, though, you know I'll be here whenever you need me. Always."

Watching the embers die, they settled into a warm and tranquil silence, but their tender moment didn't last. On the opposite side of the fire, Hamish moaned and stirred.

"Hamish?" Hiccup ventured.

After exchanging a concerned glance with Astrid, Hiccup stood and crept cautiously toward their troubled guest.

"N-no…" Hamish muttered, then began to toss.

"Hamish—"

"No!" he shouted, sitting bolt upright. "L-Leif!"

"Is he still asleep?" Astrid was now on her feet as well, visibly shaken. "Dreaming?"

"If he is, he's not having anything I'd call a 'dream'."

"LEIF, RUN!" Hamish screamed, making them both jump. "G-GET OUT! HE'S COMING!"

"Hey, it's alright." Hiccup dropped to his knees beside him. "We're right here and nothing's going to hurt—"

The boy threw back his head and sent up an agonized wail that could have raised the dead had there been any nearby. Instead, it raised the other riders and their dragons, who came scrambling into the clearing from the various thickets they had retreated to.

Hiccup took him firmly by the shoulders. "Hamish, if you can hear me, you've gotta snap out of this. It isn't real. Wake up!"

The howl choked off into a gasp. His eyes snapped open. They were empty, cold, unseeing.

"Th-they were dead." His face contorted and he slumped forward, grabbing at his hair. "Dead. All of them. My family—the rest of the village. I was the only one left." A wracking wave of sobs overcame him.

Immediately, Astrid stood and took it upon herself to deal with the shocked onlookers. "Nothing to see here, guys," Astrid called to the others, shooing them back. "Everything's fine, just a bad nightmare."

"Seriously?" said Snotlout as the others got the hint and shuffled away without question. "A nightmare? It sounded like a—"

"I said everything's fine," Astrid growled through gritted teeth, advancing on him with clenched fists. "Go back to sleep before I give you a real reason to have nightmares."

"Alright, alright, I'm leaving!"

"I'm sorry," Hamish whispered hoarsely through his tears. "I'm so, so sorry. What I wouldn't give for one more drop of that green potion your healer gave me. It tasted like rotten fish, but I swear to Valhalla I've never slept so well in my life. No dreams, no death, no screaming. Just blessed nothingness."

For a split second, Hiccup felt a strange flicker of grim comradery. He was not alone. Here was someone else who knew the pain. The private, invasive pain reserved specifically for those personally acquainted with death. It was the kind that attacked suddenly and viciously, leaving one exposed and helpless in all the worst ways. It was the kind that pierced the soul and spread like a disease throughout every inch of it to haunt and torment. The kind from which there was no escape, even in dreams.

How he longed to communicate the shared misery trapped within him to a fellow sufferer who could understand it. But there had been something more to Hamish's screams than guilt or sorrow. Something that revealed the presence of witnessed horrors Hiccup could never begin to comprehend.

"I…I know," was all he said, sitting down on the ground next to a him while Toothless padded noiselessly over to join them.

"I d-didn't want to leave my village at the mercy of that creature. Too many have been taken. Too many we will never see again…" He stopped, accosted by a shudder. It was only after a gentle nuzzle from Toothless that he could speak again. "I begged my father for days to let me search for help beyond our waters, even though we both knew it would likely be for naught."

He unwrapped his arms from his knees, trading them for Toothless's neck and clung there as if clinging for life on his leaky boat in the middle of a churning ocean. With a soft croon, the dragon settled next to him.

"My brother was against it. The night before I left, he reproached me harshly, called me a deserter and a coward for leaving my home and kin in their darkest hour. But what else was I to do? I'm a librarian, not one of the glorious warriors who have so valiantly defended us. I study books, keep our history, chart weather and stars. I'm no good with a blade and couldn't hit a target with an arrow if it was two feet in front of me. It was either perish on a hopeless quest chasing fantastic rumors, or stay there and die underfoot as a useless nuisance."

"But it wasn't a hopeless quest," Astrid was quick to put in as she came to sit on Hamish's other side. "And we're obviously not a rumor."

"You found us," Hiccup said. "You, with nothing but your own brains and determination, risked your life venturing into the unknown for a chance to save your home. And, against all odds, you survived."

"That sounds more like 'major victory' to me than 'useless'."

"I pray to Odin we're not too late," mumbled Hamish. "I…I can only imagine what has happened since I left."

"Your people have made it this far," said Hiccup. "If they're anything like you, they're still fighting, holding out to the very end for that one last shred of hope. That's you, Hamish. You are their hope, and you're on your way home with not just one dragon and his rider, but a whole team. And we're going to do whatever it takes to get rid of this thing. All of us. You have my word as a chief."

…

The brief respite was over too soon, and within the hour, they were in the air again under a canopy of stars. The sea below was like a sheet of reflective glass, making it near impossible to tell the sky from the horizon. Fortunately for the humans, the dragons possessed senses far more capable of discernment.

The usual chatter between the group of close-flying riders was minimal. A few of them, Hiccup guessed by the absence of whining or mischievous snickering, had even fallen asleep in their saddles. As long as nobody fell off, it better to let them sneak in a bit of extra rest now before they met their enemy…whatever it was.

Still a little drowsy himself and swayed by the hypnotic rhythm of Toothless's intermittent wingbeats, Hiccup slipped deep into his own thoughts.

"We call him…'Snatcher'."

Hamish's dark words materialized at the forefront of his worries. He'd turned them over and over in his head dozens of times since the boy had uttered them only days before and was no closer to a conclusion.

"He came upon us suddenly one night—a horrifying, merciless…creature—smashing buildings, devouring livestock, ripping up trees by the roots and snatching people left and right."

They offered nothing, not one hint as to the nature of the Terror of Finnmark, other than that it attacked swiftly and devoured indiscriminately.

"No one knows what he is, where he came from…or why we have become his target…"

This was the part that scared Hiccup most.

He and the riders were a solid team and had been for many years. They knew every maneuver, every formation, every battle tactic, but they had only ever dealt with dragons or those associated with them in one form or another. They could track the movements of wild herds with ease, sink a dozen enemy ships in a day, plan and execute elaborate rescue raids on camps overflowing with captured dragons…

This was different. Yes, they still had their dragons, they still had each other, but without crucial information about their foe, they were already blind.

Maybe he'd taken on more than he should have. What if, by pledging his aid to the people of Finnmark, he'd endangered the lives of his own friends? They had come too far to turn around now, and even if they did, where would that leave Finnmark? No, he would see this mission through to the end. He only wished he knew how.

His father would have known. But, as he'd stated to Astrid earlier, he was not Stoick.

He opened his eyes, glancing skyward. Somewhere up there in the vast corridors of Valhalla, his father and forebearers looked down upon him. If any of them had a cosmic hand in the workings of his life, this was the time to show it.