Flames. That is all one could see, but amongst the untamed chaos of fires there was a violent tranquillity; a gentle rhythm as dragons flew through the sky, breathing death and ruin, soiling the ground with ashes and blood. But their enemies gave just as much back: swords, axes, and hammers all swinging wildly amongst the panic, shredding through flesh, breaking through bone and spilling blood in every direction. This is Berk, home to the most stubborn beings to have ever lived: Vikings. Amongst this disorder there was a small skinny boy of 15 dodging, ducking, and stumbling his way to safety, away from the fires of war. His name was Hiccup, heir to the tribe and the blacksmith's apprentice, but little did he know he was so much more.

Dashing into the forge, narrowly escaping scorching dragon fire and razor-sharp claws, Hiccup slowed down, recovered, and began his tiresome work of sharpening dull weapons that had seen too much combat, as well as stoking the forge; keeping the war machine alive so it could churn out steel. his heart beat in time with the blacksmith's hammer, the work an intimate part of his very existence. Racing back and forth, Hiccup grabbed the warped and twisted weapons from the blacksmith's counter. He chucked them quickly onto the forge before making his way to the bellows, forcing them open and closed with his whole body; the air fanning the flames into life.

The cries of rage, grief, and agony fell into the background as the constant work continued relentlessly. Broken weapons continued to pour into the forge as the Vikings pushed their offense, having the dragons on the edge of defeat and victory seemed mere moments away. But it was all for nothing; the sky filled and echoed with the piercing screech of the night fury, followed by a tremendous flash of blazing purple light. The projectile struck the ground and a boom issued forth that shattered the sky, the air radiating with power as the creature of death swooped in for another strike.

"Man the forge Hiccup! they need more help out there!" shouted Gobber, surprising Hiccup, before charging into battle with his proud war cry, an almost-excited glint in his eyes.

Realizing that no one was watching him, Hiccup dashed into his personal workroom and grabbed his latest invention; the Mangler, a device that looked similar to a wheelbarrow that converted into a ballista-based weapon that could launch bolas at both high speed and great distance, with tremendous accuracy. Gathering up his Mangler, Hiccup dashed back into action. He ducked and weaved between the yelling people, some completely forgetting the battle around them just to tell him to get back inside. Ignoring the constant yelling, Hiccup made his way to the quiet part of the village upon a hillside with a view out into the ocean. He sprung the Mangler into life, the device opening up like a chest with a giant, mounted bola-launcher shooting up into action, while stabilizers dug into the ground to hold it in place. Cocking the leaver back and loading the bola, Hiccup stared out in the starry night, hoping upon hope he got something to shoot at. Repeatedly mumbling to himself in desperation, Hiccup finally got some action as the air came alive with energy. a piercing scream ripped through the sudden silence and with another almighty boom, the village's other catapult was pulverized. Debris and fire flew in every direction lighting up the sky in brilliants shades of purple, orange and blue highlighting the dark outline of the elusive Nightfury.

Taking the chance, Hiccup grasped the Mangler and aimed, launching the bola a second later, the kick knocking hiccup to the floor, but his sole focus was the rapidly moving bola cutting through the air. Then, with a sharp snap, it tangled itself around its prey, snapping its wings shut and pulling it into a deadly dive. The terrified shriek of the Night Fury did not go unnoticed by the boy. But his 30 seconds of joy was soon replaced by an unknown dread, emanating from an unknown place, and it was nothing to do with the Monstrous Nightmare currently standing in front of him. Wait…Monstrous Nightmare…There was something he needed to do now.
Realizing his predicament, Hiccup ran, screaming at the top of his lungs. He tried to get the attention of anyone that could help; ducking and dashing; both left and right, dodging the burst of fire that came from the beast's maw. Hiding behind a torch pole, Hiccup prayed for his continued existence as the pole was slowly eaten away by the lava-like fire. Just as he thought it was over, a large muscular Viking, the chief himself, barrelled straight into the dragon, batting it aside like a fly and sent it running with a swift kick to the jaw.

The raid was over, but Hiccups relief was short lived as the pole finally broke to the dragon fire and with a tremendous crash the flaming bowl cartwheeled through the village destroying everything in its path before finally coming to a stop plummeting off the edge of the island.

"Hey dad," said Hiccup sheepishly and dared not make eye contact with the now enraged chief, also known as his own father.

Grabbing Hiccup behind the collar, Stoick started dragging Hiccup away, fuming with anger and embarrassment.

"It's not like the last few times Dad. I mean, I really actually hit it. You guys were busy, and I had a very clear shot it went down; just off Raven's point. Let's get a search party out there before it-" Hiccup tried to explain, before being cut off by an enraged chief and an embarrassed father.

"Stop! Just. stop..." Stoick shouts turning Hiccup to face him. "every time you step out a disaster follows, can you not see I have bigger problems? winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed."

"between you and me the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think," replied Hiccup causing a few of the Vikings to stir self-consciously and a few others to respond with mild anger.

"This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" shouted Stoick, his anger, and exasperation returning fully, "why can't you follow the simplest orders!".

"I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just... kill it, you know? its who I am, dad." Hiccup tries to defend himself, with no success.

"You are many things, Hiccup, but a dragon killer is not one of them." Stoick sighs, watching the villagers, who nod their head in agreement "Get him back to the house and make sure he stays there," He says, whilst gesturing to Gobber the Blacksmith.

Having been grabbed again, Hiccup was lead through the destruction to a seemingly untouched house on top of a hill trying to ignore the glares and looks of pity that were directed his way. Having finally been released, Hiccup made his way to the door and turns to face Gobber.

"I really did hit one" Hiccup stated with a touch of desperation, hoping Gobber would believe him.

"Sure, Hiccup."

"He never listens."

"Well it runs in the family," Gobber replied, humour lacing his words.

"And when he does it's always with... this disappointed scowl. like someone skimped the meat in his sandwich. excuse me barmaid I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring. I ordered an extra-large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side. This here this is a talking fishbone." Hiccup finishes with a huff, looking at Gobber expectantly.

"Now you're thinking about this all wrong, it's not so much what you look like, it's what's inside he can't stand."

"Thank you for summing that up" Hiccup replies dryly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"look. The point is, stop trying so hard to be something you're not".

"I just want to be one of you guys," Hiccup states, walking through the door into the house, not caring to continue the conversation. But, as soon as he was out of sight, he dashed to the back door, yanking it open then stumbles outside. After recovering, he charges for the woods, pulling his book out as he goes, getting ready to start marking out where he's been until he finds the Night Fury. A couple of hours later of stumbling through the forest searching for the ever elusive Nightfury, Hiccup begins to get frustrated and takes his anger out on the book, scribbling lines all over his map before snapping the book shut and pocketing it.

"uggh, the gods hate me, some people lose their knife or a mug. No. not me. I manage to lose an entire dragon," mumbles Hiccup to himself, slapping a low hanging branch away in frustration until it comes rocketing back and slams him in the face. His eyes catch the shredded tree and a small hill that had been ploughed through creating a trench, beginning to follow the wreckage, Hiccup pokes head just over the lip created by the upturned earth and his eyes spot a Nightfury tied up in his bola, laying there completely immobile. Jumping back in shock Hiccup fumbles for his knife and prepares himself, one step at a time, on trembling legs Hiccup approaches the downed dragon knife facing forward his small frame desperately trying to hide behind it. Thinking the Dragon is dead Hiccup places his foot on the dragon in a triumphant pose when the dragon shifts letting out a low m***, Hiccup springs back, shaken, looks straight into the eyes of the Midnight, black beast, deep, emerald pools swirling with intelligence and power but with a resigned huff, it closes its eyes. Trying to ignore the dread that filled his heart and his very being saying; "No, don't do this!" Hiccup puts on false bravado and prepares his blade for a quick strike to the neck.
"I'm gonna kill you, dragon, I'm gonna cut your heart out and take it to my father, I'm a Viking. I'm a Viking!" Hiccup tries to convince himself, trying to harness his inner Viking; surely now it would come to him? It didn't, closing his eyes he tries to strike but he still can't. Resigning himself to his fate, Hiccup steps back and begins cutting the ropes, knowing that he can't let it starve to death after sparing its life. And with a sudden snap, the black beast springs into action forcing Hiccup roughly into a rock. Hiccup's neck is now between its razor-sharp claws and looking into, deep, emerald pools filled with rage. Just as the dragon goes for the kill it stops, confusion crossing its face. Just as Hiccup thought he was safe, or at least more so, it roars loud enough for his eardrums to pop, leaving him dazed as it jumps away and tries to fly, leaving Hiccup a panting, gasping mess on the floor. Attempting to compose himself Hiccup stumbles up and takes a couple of steps before fainting to the floor.
A couple of hours later; when the sun had already set in the sky, Hiccup stumbled through the door into his house. The low light of a dying fire and the slouched-over form of his father greeted him. Trying to be stealthy, Hiccup crept past to the stairs, only to be spotted when he began his ascent.
"Hiccup," Stoick says, getting his sons attention.
"Dad. Uh..." Hiccup struggles to form a response to being caught and makes his way back down the steps.
"I uh... I have to talk to you dad." Hiccup continued "I have to speak with you too, son."
"I've decided I don't want to..." "I think it's time you learn to..."
"...fight dragons." Hiccup and Stoick say together, confusing each other.
"you go first," Hiccup says, trying to be respectful.
"Alright. You get your wish; dragon training; you start in the morning."
"oh man, I should have gone first, because, uh, I was thinking, you know; we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Viking, but do we have enough bread-making Vikings or small home repair Vikings?"
Stoick cut Hiccup off, "You'll need this" he stated, handing Hiccup a large single-sided Axe. "I don't want to fight dragons."
"Come on. Yes, you do."
"Rephrase: Dad, I can't kill dragons!" Hiccup tried again, desperately trying to get his point across.
"But you will kill dragons," Stoick replies, with a soft chuckle of amusement, who did Hiccup think he was, trying to go against the Chief?
"No, I'm really extra sure I won't."
"It's time, Hiccup."
"Can you not hear me?" Hiccup questions, loosening the grip on the Axe.
"This is serious, son!" Stoick shouts forcing the Axe back into a proper position, all traces of amusement leaving his voice. "When you carry this Axe, you carry all of us with you, which means you walk like us, you talk like us, you think like us. No more of... this." "You just gestured to all of me."
"Deal?"
"this conversation is feeling very one-sided" Hiccup tries again to get his father to see reason.
"Deal!?" Stoick presses with a sharp edge to his voice, staring his son directly in the eye, leaving no room for arguments.
"Deal." Hiccup replies with a dejected sigh, realizing it was an impossible argument and didn't see the point of continuing, especially when his father was seconds away from being angry.
Grabbing his duffel bag, helmet, and Axe from around the room, Stoick marches up to the door. He turned back to look at Hiccup.
"Train hard, I'll be back, Probably."
"And I'll be here, maybe." Hiccup replies to the now closed door. He drops the Axe to the floor and makes his way up to his room. Throwing himself on his bed, Hiccup stares at the ceiling, dreading what tomorrow would bring. He finally drifts off into a dreamless sleep the stress of the day catching up to him.

Thank you to puffin777 for Beta reading my work.