Hey... yeah that last chapter took a long time, and after looking at the reviews, I realized that Astrid was way ooc and I went back and changed it. I'd written that well over a year ago, but I guess I didn't go back and re-read like I should've. I'm not going to make any promises, but I will say that I'm going to try to get on a regular schedule for you guys. I MADE A FROZEN 2 REFERENCE... accidentally.

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Therefore, he could not spare anytime to pack, because he needed to leave in the dead of the night so noone could see his black-winged dragon. He grabbed his charcoal Pencil from a nearby rock, and swiftly began writing on the jagged, tanned pages

It was finally happening. He'd moved all his pieces into place, and he'd prepared as much as he could for the next phase of his plan. He just hoped it would work.

It was deep into the day, a cold, orange sun setting over the horizon to give birth to a deep twighlight when Hiccup finally finished writing the letters to the three members of the tribe, regretfully signing his name on the letter headed to his mentor.

He was going to miss Gobber deeply. In fact, often times it felt like the cranky blacksmith was the only man in the village that cared for him. Not even his own father showed as much compassion towards him as the rock-toothed meathead.

The letter toward Astrid took on more of an angry tone, as well as the one meant for his father. He just couldn't understand why the vast chief refused to be accepting of him, his own son.

It hurt him on every level.

But he couldn't afford to waste time on tears, even that of remorse, he needed to escape while he still could. The moment the villagers found Toothless, they would kill him, and Hiccup would be a disgrace.

Hiccup could not let that happen to his best friend. Ever.

He quickly made his way back to the house from the cove, letters in hand. He could not waste time, the next step was crucial, and needed to be executed quickly. Once he'd gotten back to the wooden home that he refused to call his own, he quickly placed a letter on top of the furs on his father's bed, grabbed his satchel with the Berk Crest on it, and stepped out of the house for the last time.

The next part was a bit trickier. He had to go into the rickety forge that had become a second home to him. It was hard to not be slowed down by the emotional impact of what he was doing here. Here he had to say goodbye to a man that had practically raised him, and brace himself for his journey into the unknown.

Finally, it was time to deliver Astrid's letter. This part would be the worst, not because of any emotional attachment, but because of what they used to mean to each other. He wasn't prepared to deal with the memories that bombarded him when he caught the sight of her house, a large wooden home nestled into the side of a hill.

He remembered running and laughing and playing with her when they were younger. He didn't know what had happened between them, she just stopped talking to him one day. The bullying from Snotlout got worse, the twins joined in, and his life became a living hell.

He wondered where the blue-eyed wonder from his childhood had gone.

He moved quickly, hiding in the cover of the night. Climbing up to her window, he quickly climbed through and placed the letter onto her bed.

He abandoned all hopes of her return long ago.

He shot out the window, jumping to the cold, hard ground. It began pouring down rain, which darkened his surroundings. It was time. He began his move back towards the cove, planning to spend as little time on this desolate, depressing island.

His auburn hair was soaked, becoming a deep brown, and the color of his eyes was virbrant, bright emerald.

He marched through the torn forest, knowing he'd only have shelter the shelter of trees until he'd reached the cove.

He stumbled, an angry red mark appearing on his hand. Thorns tore at his face, and he remembered everything he'd felt on this island he was abandoning.

"You'll never be good enough. You're just useless."

"You? You aren't a viking. You're a runt. Noone cares for the runts."

"Hiccup the Useless, what a fitting name for you!"

He grunted, gritting his teeth and stumbling, continuing his trek through the forest that was being destroyed by the storm.

The wind battered him, and he almost fell again. The cove came into sight, and he pushed throuh, the rain whipping his face.

All the pain, all the torture he'd experienced at the hand of the people of Berk was over. He just had to make it through this dark night.

He was within ten feet of the cove, just one more push would get him there.

7 feet.

The rain began lessening, making every step forward easier for the boy.

5 feet.

The sun was rising, a golden flame resting in the sky as the night gave way to a sparkling dawn.

2 feet.

He could hear Toothless roar, and as the soaked boy entered the cove, he knew that all the hardship he'd endured had forged him into the person he was.

He might not have been strong, like a viking, but he was no longer sure he wanted to be.

His largest desire was to be brave and smart, like a dragon. Like a Night Fury.

Like Toothless.

He wrapped his satchel around him tighter, and approached the black dragon, who was playing with a small terrible terror.

"Alright bud, are you ready to go?" He said, crooked smile beaming at the poison-eyed reptile, who bouncily reflected his excitement.

He began running, throwing himself into the saddle.

It was time to leave. It was like flipping to the next chapter in a book, one that was leaving behind the heartbreak of the last.

They launched into the sky with a hearty shout and a roar, and with that, the two flew, man and dragon, into the unknown.

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Sorry for the shorter chapter, but hey! At least I'm posting again right?