Hiccup watched the light grey sky stretch out before him, blending into a single colour with the sea on the horizon, the illusion disrupted only by the ripples of the sea's waves. It's probably going to snow tomorrow, he thought as he regarded the thick clouds above, drawing an intricate snowflake pattern into his notebook with a piece of charcoal.

He had resorted to sketching in an attempt to entertain himself up in the watchtower. He was here instead of the usual man on watch, Torsten, who had gotten sick from the merciless northern winter. Usually, the duty would fall back on another adult, but there was an important village meeting taking place today, and almost everyone had to be there. Hiccup wanted to participate as well, but his dad had refused, claiming that he was still too young to be there. And thus, he offered to stay at the watchtower. It made him feel useful and he also liked how calm it was up here.

Yes, he clearly enjoyed sitting here all day, no loneliness or boredom involved. And he totally wasn't disappointed with his dad's decision. It wasn't like other kids such as Fishlegs, Snotlout or Astrid were listening in on the meeting or anything...

Oh wait, they were!

The charcoal between his fingers snapped in half.

"Getting angry won't help anything, Hiccup," he mumbled to himself, trying to distinguish his annoyance. He grabbed the smaller half of his charcoal and tossed it towards the village. His eyes lingered on Berk as he watched it fall.

From up here, all of the houses seemed tiny and the sheep resembled white balls of cotton. When he stood up and properly focused on the white spots down below, he had a feeling he could tell apart the rams from the female sheep due to the tiny specks on their heads…

Was this how dragons saw the village? he wondered.

Lately, he found himself thinking about the creatures quite often, probably because of that strange dream he had two weeks ago. It didn't leave his mind no matter how much he tried. Even now, he could recall it in full clarity, down to the dull pain of falling to the ground and the odd feeling of touching the dragon's muzzle. At times like these, when he was alone with his thoughts, the whole thing would come back to him. It seemed to spike some sort of unhealthy curiosity within him, one that he wasn't sure he was content in having.

He partly blamed his inability to forget about it on his dad. Stoick seemed to love bringing up the misunderstood soulmate joke Hiccup made that night, trying to prod him for more information. He did that in the most obnoxious, dad way possible - making dumb puns whenever Hiccup was around. Like 'isn't today's dinner just dreamy, Hiccup?' or 'Not once in my dreams would I think you'd be this good at smithing, son!'

...To be frank, Hiccup didn't really mind the teasing that much. He was glad that his dad was giving him attention. He just felt guilty because he didn't deserve it. But at this point, it was too late to tell Stoick the truth, so he was stuck making up the vaguest of answers to his dad's merry winks while the odd dragon dream kept sitting in his head. He knew that there was likely no real meaning to it, though, so he shook the thoughts away once again and went back to sketching.

The boy ran out of charcoal by the time the sun began to set, so he put his papers away and leaned back in his chair, waiting for the person that would switch with him for the night shift. As the sky slowly darkened, his eyelids began to feel heavier. The cold would usually keep Hiccup awake and urge him to move around, but lately he didn't have that much issue with the chills. Must have been the new fur coat.

When it became unbearable, Hiccup stood up and stretched, trying to get some blood flowing into his limbs. The night was not that dark, despite the moon being shrouded in a light veil of clouds. If he focused enough, he could see the waves splash around the sea's surface.

As Hiccup looked far into the horizon, something flickered in the distance. Freezing mid-stretch, he tried to find it again. When he narrowed his eyes and focused enough, he could see an array of dots a few shades lighter than the cloudy night sky. They moved up and down in a rhythmical manner.

There were no birds flying this late, and definitely not big enough to be visible in the distance. The longer he kept his eyes locked on the dots, the more evident it became what they were. The white-bluish dot on the far-left could have been a Deadly Nadder. Next to it, an orange-hued nightmare. Panic was slowly overtaking him as he tried to keep count of them all.

He suddenly heard someone climb up the ladder. He turned behind with a jerk, only to meet his father's surprised gaze. Hiccup didn't say a thing, heart beating in panic and head dazed from straining his eyes. Stoick's features softened as he came up to the boy.

"Sorry for leaving ye here 'till now, son. The meeting dragged long…" Stoick paused, seeing how stiff Hiccup was. "Ev'rything okay?" he asked, growing alarmed.

"No, it's not okay!" Hiccup shouted, pointing to the sky with a trembling hand. "It's- it's dragons! At least ten of them, headed for the village!"

Stoick immediately put his hand on his arm, beckoning him to move aside, taking his place and looking to where his son had pointed moments ago. His face scrunched up as he searched the sky.

"Right there!" Hiccup tried to show him, but Stoick still seemed at a loss.

"Can't see a thing," his father finally said after a moment of pointing and frowning.

"You have to focus a lot. They're not even the size of the stars, they're probably still really far away."

"Hiccup…" Stoick turned to him, his face worried. "Ye've been here all day and evening, ye're…"

"I'm not tired or anything! I can seriously see them!" Hiccup interrupted him, voice growing more urgent. "They're right there, a bit to the left from the centre!"

He made sure to look the sky over, but his eyes were too tired at that point, creating little grainy spots in his vision whenever he tried to focus. Even then, he could still tell apart about four of the needle-head sized dragons.

"I'm sure you'll see them when they're closer. If you don't trust me, then we'll just have to wait until the night patrol confirms it!"

"We don't have anyone to patrol tonight. The lads that weren't at the meeting spent all day with the last of house repairs. We all need to get some good sleep for the hunting and wood gathering tomorrow."

"What? You can't leave the place unguarded!" Hiccup objected, voice coated with panic.

"Hiccup," Stoick began slowly, trying to calm him down. "The last dragon attack was just two weeks ago. They come once a month when it's this far into the year. And they always arrive right with the moon, not this late."

"Because we leave the fires out during the night so they can't see the village! But right now, they're all lit!" Hiccup made a gesture towards Berk bellow, generously glowing thanks to the big torches stationed around the paths and between the houses.

"So ye're telling me, that the dragons knew that we would have a meeting long into the night today and took their time because of that?" Stoick said. He was smiling a little, and even though Hiccup knew he wanted to assure him everything was fine, it felt like he was mocking him.

But what he said was reasonable, and it made Hiccup doubt his own eyes. Maybe he was right, and Hiccup was just seeing things.

Offering a long look to the sky, his vision tired, he thought it through once more. It could have been some stars peeking from behind the clouds. He sighed. "You're right. That makes no sense."

"Come now. Let's get ye to bed. Been a long day for all of us." Stoick was still smiling as he headed down the tower, Hiccup right behind him.

He was still pretty uneasy when he slid to bed that night, but the warmth soon enveloped his mind and he dozed off fairly easily.

He was swimming. Swimming among streams of wind that swished in his ears as he dove through them. Warmth from deep within him made the wind a comforting companion rather than an obstructive force, and he felt free. Weightless, with no ground to hold him back.

The additional appendages on his back moved, propelling him forward. Muscles he shouldn't have tensed and relaxed in a steady pattern. But the strange sensation did not concern him. He was focused on the island before him. At this distance, he could see the whole piece of land just with the help of moonlight. That meant he was but a few leaps away from it, and it excited him beyond anything.

Behind him, it sounded like a hundred sails being straightened by a torrent of wind. He craned his head to have a look. A cluster of light dots stared back. It made his mind stop for a moment, but upon closer inspection, they were eyes, belonging to variously coloured and shaped bodies, which all shared one feature - wings that flapped against the air currents, creating the sound he'd been hearing. For some strange reason, he felt reassured rather than shocked. Not paying it another thought, he focused back on the journey forward.

The group of dragons behind him began to descend, likely aiming for the place where he'd seen a herd of sheep, but he maintained his height for a bit longer before diving down to the edge of the human village. Using his new pair of appendages as brakes, he landed onto the grass with a soft plop and trotted over towards where they kept the fish. For whatever reason, he was really craving some fish…

He stalked between houses, sometimes hearing snores or sleep-talking, but none of that fazed him. Even when he was alone like this, he somehow knew that he was unbeatable. Powerful. Coated in the darkness around, there was nothing he could fear.

He was the night.

As he reached his destination, though, he found a burly silhouette leaning against the pedestal the bowl was on. Judging by the loud snores coming out of the man, he was asleep. But he wouldn't take any chances while enjoying his midnight snack - the axe the person was hugging to their chest reflected the moonlight rays and looked viciously sharp.

He crouched down, tensing his muscles. A jump would be enough to close the distance. His hands, clawed, buried themselves into the ground, getting ready for a large swipe.

No, wait. What was he trying to do? Attack the man?

His legs sprung up and he leaped into the air, raising his right hand over his head. All he needed was one more swing down...

No, he can't do that!

He could see the trajectory. His claws would dig into the chest of the human before him, and then he would enjoy all the fish he wanted…

"Stop!"

With a shout, Hiccup sat up on his bed, heart beating out of his chest. Disoriented, he stared into the space before him, trying to figure out where he was. Only after the pounding in his head subsided a little, he finally took in the familiar sight of his room.

"A dream…" he muttered. He looked his hand over and flexed his fingers. There were no claws and the feeling of the freezing cold grass beneath them was gone too. He could still recall them, though, enough to persuade his brain that they had to be real.

"It was just a dream," he tried to soothe himself. Lifelike or not, that was what it had been. With the incident at the watchtower today, he couldn't blame his imagination. Combine that with his constant thoughts about the other night, and it only made sense for him to have weird dreams like this. Yet another sign that it'd be better if he just forgot about it. Getting slight relief from his reasoning, he took a few deep breaths and lied back down onto the bed, deciding to go back to sleep. As he began to close his eyes, however, a slam of the front door snapped him right back to attention.

"Dragons!" the viking standing in the doorway screamed, axe in his hand. The dark night behind him was swallowed up in flames.

A split second after that, Stoick rushed to the door, weapon already in hand. "Go to Gobber's, son!" the viking chief exclaimed with a single glance at Hiccup before disappearing into the burning war outside.

Hiccup jumped out of bed as soon as the shock allowed him to move. He felt sick, way sicker than during any other dragon raid in his life. There were so many questions filling his head that it was almost as if he were being suffocated from the inside. He forgot to put on his fur vest as he ran outside his house. Around him, shouts and growls resounded, and people were running in all different directions with axes and shields, ready to strike. He didn't really pay notice to them, though - he was glued to his spot, looking towards the path leading to the fish bowl. The sensible part of his mind told him that there was no reason to even consider going. After all, there was nobody on duty tonight. But the uneasy tug on his heart didn't allow him to just drop it.

Suddenly, something forcibly pulled his body back, and a second after that, a giant wave of fire engulfed the spot where he'd been standing. It was an arm ending in a prosthetic. When he looked up, he saw Gobber's worried face.

"What're ye doin'? The smithy's this way!" the blacksmith yelled out, his exasperated tone mirroring his expression.

"I was going to-" Hiccup began, but his voice was swallowed by another fire breath just a few metres shy away from them. This one blocked the other path to the fish bowl. He had no choice but to run through fire if he wanted to go see the place from his dream now. He wasn't that desperate to check. "...Nevermind. Sorry, let's go."

They both hurried to the smithy, where a pile of bent and chipped blades already awaited them. Without any unnecessary words, they soon fell back into their usual pace. Hiccup was kind of relieved that he could let his thoughts melt away in the sweat and focus solely on hard labour. With that, the hours passed by without him really noticing, and he wasn't even sure how long it took before everything calmed down or how he got home and crawled back onto his bed.

The sun was high in the sky when he came to. Immediately afterwards, the events of the previous night came back to him, but he did his best to shake the thoughts away. It was a bit easier to do so now that he'd slept on it. After all, his dad said there would be nobody on duty that night. And how would the whole 'being a dragon' part even work? It was his mind playing tricks on him, for sure.

As he walked down to the main room, he spotted Stoick eating what seemed to be soup. Upon noticing him, his expression shifted into what could only be described as startled. Hiccup knew that look. It was usually followed by some sort of awkward father-to-son talk.

"Mornin', son." Stoick said, his eyes going back to his food.

"Morning," Hiccup replied, sliding into the chair across him. A steamy hot bowl of the same soup was sitting there. It smelled meaty - he absently dug a spoon into it. Lamb. Probably a sheep left behind by one of the dragons. He liked lamb a lot, but the thought of dragons made him enjoy the meal less.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the spoons clanking against their bowls. Hiccup was waiting for his dad to begin the conversation - clearly, he had something to say, but if he tried to push him on, it would just get them nowhere.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe ye yesterday," Stoick finally broke the silence. "We could've been ready for them."

Hiccup sighed. "It's fine. What you said made sense, dad," he said, and while he was being sincere about it, it did hurt to look back at it. When his father couldn't see the dragons, he shrugged it off as his son seeing things. And Hiccup trusted in that, because he didn't trust himself. He was... ashamed of himself.

"Still, those eyes of yers are sharper than a hawk, son!" Stoick continued, his voice growing on enthusiasm. "Maybe ye could keep watch more often?"

"I don't know. It was probably just a coincidence," he replied bashfully. He'd never noticed anything special about his eyesight. "Maybe you were just tired from the meeting yesterday."

"Give yeself more credit than that," his dad smiled, and the wryness of that smile made Hiccup feel warm inside. Stoick patted Hiccup on the back, with less force than usual. Judging from his pale complexion and bags under eyes, he probably hadn't slept. It was a reminder how busy all of Berk had to be right now.

"I'm gonna go help Gobber out," Hiccup said as he finished his soup, feeling a bit better with warm food in his stomach. "You should get some rest, dad."

'I'll try." Stoick said with a deep sigh. Hiccup took both their bowls and cleaned them away. He gave his dad one more concerned look, and then left the house.

He hugged his vest closer to himself as the cold wind outside assaulted him, and his eyes wandered to the path on his right, smouldered from yesterday's fire. He quickly shook his head and turned the other way.

"I'll just focus on work today." he mumbled to himself, hoping that the smithy would wash the aftermaths of the dream away.

He found Gobber snoring at the front table with a pile of axes right next to his head. It made Hiccup smile, though he felt a little guilty. When he poked the man's arm lightly, Gobber perked up, eyeing him with a very unhappy frown.

"Thought I sent ye 'ta go sleep," he grumbled suspiciously.

"Yeah, that was a few hours ago."

At that, the blacksmith looked around, and then at the sky, possibly just registering the sun above them. He muttered something that sounded like a curse under his breath, before forcibly getting out of his chair with a yelp, his arm landing on his lower back. Hiccup noted to himself that he should give the poor man a massage later.

With a rather slow start, they got back to work, and Hiccup put all of his focus into it. Around noon, people began to fill in with more weapons and work tools in need of fixing, along with orders. Gobber sent Hiccup to the front to tend to them. The boy was just writing down the amount of nails one of the carpenters asked him to make, when another man came up to him. He dumped a set of broken axes and hammers down, the weight of them enough to make the counter shake.

"Gods, couldn't you be a bit more-" Hiccup cursed as his hand skidded off the paper and the charcoal between his fingers snapped. He stopped when he noticed the pained expression of the viking before him, though.

"Odin, what happened to you, Bork? You look awful."

The man known as Bork was even paler than his dad had been, and his right arm was bound by a wooden cast. He was gritting his teeth and his fingers were trembling from pain.

"A dragon's what happened!" he spat, slamming his healthy hand onto the counter. "Damned beast snuck up on me!"

"Guess you're lucky you got to keep it," Hiccup nodded over at his injured arm, trying to be positive. "But a dragon sneaking up on someone? It had to be pretty small."

"'Dunno. I fell asleep on duty and the next thing I know, my arm's tearin' apart."

Hiccup's blood froze at that moment. "You were on night duty? I thought no one was."

"Not in the watchtower, but there's been wild animals stealin' our food lately." Bork explained briefly, flexing and unflexing his fingers as if trying to work the pain out.

"You mean… fish?" Hiccup breathed out, feeling nauseous.

"Yeah. Couldn't even see what the sucker looked like! But if I see 'em green eyes again, I'll make sure to split his head in half!" Bork thundered.

The events in Hiccup's dream played back to him in full clarity. He… the dragon was indeed coming at the man from his right. A sleeping man. A man that couldhave been about as tall as Bork.

That wasn't all. The green eyes filled Hiccup with yet another memory. A memory of two green orbs staring him down.

"You couldn't see the dragon… dark scales…"

"Yeah, prolly. ...What's with ye, Hiccup? D'ye get scared?"

A large hand landed on his head and roughed his hair up, but Hiccup was too numb to even properly register it.

"I'll get that dragon and make toothpicks outta his claws, don't ye worry!" Bork proclaimed, his voice stiff with anger and impatience. "So fix up this pile for me, aight?" The man pointed to the tools and weapons in need of repair, before leaving Hiccup there with a small wave of his hand.

Hiccup didn't really notice any of that. He was staring down at his hands, placed on top of the counter, as if expecting them to grow black scales. At the claw comment, the tips of his fingers tingled uncomfortably, drawing a connection that shouldn't have been drawn. He stood there for a bit, before Gobber called out to him, asking where the next stock to be repaired was. The boy stiffened, back to reality, but the prickling of his fingers wouldn't stop.

This time around, his thoughts and doubts would not leave him alone. He couldn't be here. He needed to know, right now.

"So-sorry! I've gotta go!" he squeaked out, before he dashed out of the smithy, the complaints from Gobber not reaching his ears.

He ran between houses, almost bumping into one old lady due to how distraught he was. It felt like an eternity before he finally spotted the bowl, immediately freezing at the sight.

The hair on his skin were standing upright as he scanned the area around. He was alone. As he concluded that, he relaxed a little. With trembling legs, he walked over to the place where yesterday's dream had abruptly ended, trying to spot a clue of sorts.

At first, nothing seemed out of place. However, upon closer inspection, he could see trails of cut grass and shallow slices at the earth beneath it. Crouching down, he ran his hand over it.

As soon as his fingers traced the disturbed soil, he felt it. His fingers, nails, being dragged through the ground, slicing it like a knife would butter. The cold feeling of the freezing earth over his skin, contracted by a few spots of liquidy warmth. Then, the sensation seemed to backtrack, the cold, hard ground leaving his fingers. It was warm now, with something much softer being torn, much easier to pass through than the soil…

He flinched, letting out a startled, disgusted noise at the feeling that shot up into his hand. His whole body broke into goosebumps as he took a few steps back. It was a wonder his shaking knees hadn't buckled up on him yet.

What was that? A… recollection?

He could still feel the flesh on his fingers, vividly, as if it really had been there. But… that was impossible. He had been in his bed yesterday, sleeping… right? There was no way he did that. He was just a human. Just… Hiccup.

Disturbed by it all, his feet dragged him over to the nearby shore, and he plunged his hands into the ice cold water, hoping to wash away the sensation. While rubbing his freezing hands helped him with that, it didn't erase the dread and confusion he was feeling in his chest. Now that he had seen real proof of his dream, he couldn't deny or reason it away. Something was wrong.

"What am I going to do?" he whispered, frantic, as he pulled his reddened hands from the water.

Would anyone even believe him if he told them? And say they did, what would happen to him? Would they lock him up? Or worse…

I have to keep quiet, he thought. At least until I figure something out.

Greetings, all of you lovely readers! I can't believe this story gained so many followers and favourites this fast... It really makes me embarrassed that I haven't finished this chapter earlier. The plan was to be done with it in November... but uni got me good these past two semesters, and now it's May.

As for what will happen next... I can promise that some questions will be answered in the following chapter.

I'll be really happy if you drop me a review! Criticism that can help me improve my writing is always welcome.