Prologue

The man with green eyes stepped inside the large tent that was pinned down next to the Brluw Forest. He flipped back the heavy fabric that functioned as a door. There was only one man inside, and elderly man with skinny knees and elbows. In front of him was a small fire that only illuminated half the room.

"Hello," he said to the intruder. The green-eyed man smiled at him.

"Hello, I was told that you could give me a tattoo." He said taking a step towards the old man. Once in the light of the fire the old man could see the green-eyed man's face. He was a young man maybe nineteen or twenty. His hair was tied back loosely and was a dark brown. He would have looked like a gentle young man if it weren't for the long scar that ran down his face. It started somewhere behind the top of his ear and flowed down his cheek and ran across the edge of his lip before trickling to a stop.

"Do you have money?" The old man asked.

"Yes," the man with the scar said the produced a small pouch of coins. The old man huffed then rose from his seat.

"Well come over here," he pointed to the chair he was just sitting in. "What do you want? Some tribal design?" He asked.

"No, I want this," The green-eyes man sat down and pulled out a small notebook. He flipped it open and once he found the right page he showed it to the old man. The old man took the notebook and furrowed his brow at the drawing inside. It was a dragon. One he had never seen before. The wingspan was like a bats and the body was lean and strong.

"What kind of dragon is this?" He asked the man with a scar.

"It's a Night Fury," he said. The old man looked back to the drawing then laughed.

"This is what you think a Night Fury looks like, you mean. No one has ever seen a Night Fury and lived to tell the tale," the old man said.

"That's not true," the green-eyed man said. "Have you head of the Village of Berk?"

"Yes, 'couse I have."

"Well asked anyone from Berk and they will tell you they saw a Night Fury. It attacked a boy with he was killing his first dragon," the green-eyed man said.

"What happened?" The old man asked intrigued.

"The dragon snatched up the boy and was never seen again," the green-eyed man said looking into the far corners of the tent.

"You want this tattoo to remember the boy?" The old man asked.

"Something like that," the green-eyed man said.

"Well alright," the old man said looking back at the drawing. "I suppose I could do this…did you draw this?" He asked.

"Yes, why?" the green-eyed man asked.

"You're missing a tail fin," the old man said pointing at the page.

"Oh, no I'm not. I want it with only one tail fin," the man with the scar said. The old man twisted his mouth then sighed.

"If that's what you want," he said. "Where do you want it?"

"On my back, covering my shoulders." The green-eyed man said.

"If you want it colored in it's gonna cost extra," he said.

"That's fine," the green-eyed man said.

"Alright let me get set up. Take off your shirt and sit backwards on the chair." The old man said as he rustled around for his tools. "Aha found you," he said to himself as he found the ink. The elder Viking turned around and was taken back by what he saw. The young man was now shirtless and the scar on his face seemed like nothing compared to the one on his left shoulder.

It was a large bite mark. Huge teeth had sunk in deep and had created an arch on the man's chest and shoulder blade. It looked like he could have easily lost his arm.

"What type of dragon did that?" the old man asked as he pulled up another chair next to the green-eyed man.

"I'm not sure," the man with scars said shrugging.

"Same one who gave you the scar on your face?" the old man asked.

"No," was all the green-eyed man said. The old man let the subject drop and he began to work. There was silence between the two for an hour or so before the old man spoke once more.

"So are you from Berk?" he asked.

"Yeah, grew up there," the green-eyed man said.

"How'd you end up here?"

"I really don't know," the man with the scar, answered.

"Well what do you do out here?"

"I make things. Armor mostly but I help build every now and then," the green-eyed man said.

"Don't you wish you were wearing some of that armor when that dragon bit you?" The old man said with a laugh.

"I never use the things I make," the stranger said.

"No?" the old man asked confused. "You got yourself enough weapons then?"

"No, I am never armed," he said. The old man paused.

"You must be crazy or lucky to do something like that," the elder said.

"Probably crazy," the green-eyed man said.

The pair stayed quite the rest of the time while the tattoo was being done. The old man worked carefully along the scar tissue on the young man's back and frowned when he knew he could not put a second tail fin on the dragon. Hours later the tattoo was finished. The old man stood up and stretched his back making loud popping noises.

"Well it's done," he said to the green-eyed man. The young man stood up and silently stretched.

"Thank you," he said. He gingerly put on his shirt and pulled out the small bag of coins for the old man. Once he had paid him he turned to leave but was stopped by the old man's voice.

"That tattoo, it was for the boy that was killed by the dragon right? The one from your village?" He asked. The green-eyed man shook his head.

"The boy didn't die," the green-eyed man said. "Wasn't even injured by the dragon."

"I don't understand," the elder said.

"The tattoo isn't to remember the boy, it's to remember the dragon."

The green-eyed man flipped back the heavy fabric on the door and stepped outside. The old man followed him.

"Why would you want to remember a dragon?" the old man scoffed. The young man stopped and looked up at the sky.

"Why wouldn't I want to remember the dragon," the green-eyed man said with a smile. He then pulled something from his pocket. The old man squinted at it and realized it was a whistle. The man with the scar blew the whistle then placed it back in his pocket. Nothing happened for a moment, nothing moved but the man still looked to the sky. Suddenly the harsh flapping of wings caught both of the Viking's attention. To their left and coming out of the woods and not the sky was a dragon. Not just any dragon but a Night fury. It's brilliant green eyes flared in the dark while it's back scaled glistened in the moonlight.

"I want to remember the dragon because he saved my life," the green-eyed man said.

The dragon drew closer and the old man stood fixed to the spot. He couldn't move, and he nearly screamed when the dragon trotted over to the man with the scar. The green-eyed man placed a hand on the beast and scratched its head like a common dog. The young man then nodded to the old man then hoisted himself onto the dragon, and seated himself in what looked like a saddle. There was a soft click and the dragon took off.

The elder watched the man and the dragon soar into the sky until the darkness and the pair seemed to pool together.