Bond

Summary: Two dragon riders of different worlds and cultures converge.

His only warning was a vague shape within the clouds and a roar like thunder.

Then a man in armor astride a black dragon soared into view, just grazing Saphira's blue wingtip as they raced by. The rider wore a sable, full visor helm which disclosed nothing of his face but a pair of green eyes wide with shock. And clutched in his free arm was a dark purple dragon egg.

Eragon met the man's eyes for an instant before Saphira wheeled around and chased after the pair, releasing a jet of flames that just missed the tip of the black dragon's tail. An instant later, it spun around mid-flight and shot a white fireball from his mouth, which Saphira dodged it easily enough, but it was enough for their enemies to put some distance between them.

I told you this was a bad idea! Saphira roared at Eragon. Silently, he agreed, though he wasn't about to admit it aloud. So it was a bad idea to leave the ship unattended why they scouted the area for land, but it wasn't as though anyone else was in the area.

Well, as you can see, you were wrong!

I know!

Saphira shot another bout of flames upon the pair once she caught up. The opposite dragon was much smaller than she was, though it flew as fast as an arrow, covering sufficient ground needed to counterattack. With at least twenty yards between them, it would spin around fire another flaming bullet at them, this time just grazing Saphira's wing.

He's done this before! Eragon realized. This isn't the first time he's fought another dragon. Or another Rider! This put him at a disadvantage, he realized, since the only dragon and Rider he'd ever fought had been Murtagh and Thorn.

Finding himself at a profound disadvantage in experience, Eragon thought back to his lessons with Oromis and Brom and remembered the vulnerable points on a dragon: the neck, beneath the wings, and the flanks. Drawing Brisingr, he shared his observations with Saphira, and then his plans.

Be careful. Saphira cautioned. That loathsome lizard may be smaller, but that also means he's used to fighting those larger than him.

Eragon silently agreed, then extended tendrils of thought toward the black dragon, only to find a iron wall shielding its thoughts. Images of a boy no older than he'd been when he found Saphira's egg flashed through his mind, followed by a series of memories involving the same boy whether it was flying together, eating together, sleeping together, and defending each other. He broke off the contact as Saphira flew over the pair, striking at them with her forepaws and missing the rider by inches.

Then the two dragons locked talons and began to tear at one another, biting at each others' necks and kicking at their unarmored bellies. The black dragon battered at Saphira's head with his forepaws, screaming in fury as she shot a jet of flame at him. He sank his teeth into one of her legs and she howled and snapped at one of his wings, missed, then managed to dislodge him with a ferocious kick.

The black rider drew his own sword, a weapon that burned fire just as Brisingr did. In his right arm, he still cradled the stolen dragon egg, holding it as though it was his and his alone to protect. Eragon watched him deposit it into a leather shoulder bag, then he rose from the saddle and and turned to face Eragon. The black dragon jerked to the side, snapping at one of Saphira's wings now, and his rider leaped toward Eragon, slashing his blade at him.

Eragon dodged the attack and struck at his opponent. Brisingr met the firesword in a shower of sparks, as though they dueled with swords fresh from a smith's forge. The black rider yelled in a mixture of pain and astonishment, retreated a couple paces, then struck again, harder than before. Again, Eragon met the attack easily, then struck himself, gaining the offense and forcing his opponent into submission. He did not have the upper hand long. Every time they converged it was for a brief moment before they broke apart, circled as best they could, then attacked again.

As he engaged the enemy for a fourth time, Eragon lashed a hand out to snatch the satchel, but the black rider's blade slapped it away, burning him for a second. Saphira twisted suddenly as she bit the black dragon's tail, and both combatants were knocked off their feet. Eragon was the first to stand, followed by his opponent, who swung at him in a wide arc that would've cut his arm had he not raised Brisingr in time.

Dismayed at his ferocity, Eragon found it difficult to match his opponent's determination. Even with his inhumane speed and strength, he found himself unable to keep up with the black rider's attacks. Every time he thought the other would submit and concede defeat, a profound spark of anger flared behind his eyes and he resumed fighting with renewed ferocity as though he abhorred Eragon personally.

Then he thought of the battle under Farthen Dûr, how he had defeated the Shade Durza, and how he was much more the farm boy of Carvahall then than he was now. If he could slay a monster like that, Eragon thought as he thwarted a stab from the other rider, then it was entirely possible for mortal man to kill a Rider.

With this in mind, he retaliated stronger than ever, forcing the rider back along Saphira's spine toward the hollow at the base of her neck. When he'd driven him back as far as her shoulder blades, the two dragons suddenly broke apart, a mere fifty feet above the sea. The black rider turned away from Eragon and ran along the length of Saphira's wing, launching himself into the air, although his dragon was soaring away. Eragon watched as he leveled himself out, spreading his arms to break his fall, then extended two triangular strips of canvas on either side of his body and glided the rest of the way toward his dragon.

Did you get the egg back? Saphira asked.

No. Eragon explained the manner in which the rider had protected it.

Perhaps dragon eggs have a much more significant value in these parts. Saphira suggested. For all we know, it could be a sacred item.

That certainly explained the rider's fanatical behavior, Eragon thought as Saphira propelled herself after their retreating opponents. Or he's a thief and thinks it's a precious gemstone. That's what I thought your egg was until you hatched.

What! Saphira snarled back indignantly.

Nonetheless, they had to get that egg back. Following the dragon and rider, Eragon was surprised to find they had almost disappeared in the clouds. "They're running!" He realized, then berated himself, Of course they are. They've got what they want after all.

Saphira needed no encouragement to race after them, expressing her fury in a roar that shook the sky like a thunderclap. The black rider looked back at them for an instant, then swerved to the left in a sharp turn, heading straight for the dark, indistinct shape of an island in the distance. Eragon frowned at the maneuver, studying the black dragon's tail. One side was black, like the rest of the beast, but the other was bright red. It couldn't be natural; it looked so out of place.

It's fake! He thought. Part of his tail is fake! It's made of some kind of fabric.

I could light it on fire if I could get close enough. Saphira suggested.

No, that won't be necessary. I'll handle it. Carefully, Eragon raised his right hand, palm outstretched, and concentrated on his target. "Jierda!"

With a snap, the artificial tail shredded and broke apart. The other rider whirled around in surprise and, as expected, his black dragon wobbled with the loss and began to plummet toward the sea. A terrified roar and a human scream reached his ears as the pair fell out of sight beneath the clouds. Diving after them, he watched as the small dragon fanned out its wings, unsteadily gliding across the sky and heading straight for in the distance. His rider leaped out of the saddle and darted along the creature's spine and the length of his tail to inspect the damage.

What he found, Eragon could not say, but he quickly returned to the saddle, patting the side of his dragon's neck. The creature lurched as it flew, yet it balanced out its dark wings as best it could to coast through the air. The rider glared up at them but only maintained the expression until a gust of wind knocked them off balance, sending them both in a brief panic before they evened out again.

Twice, Eragon and Saphira tried to retrieve the egg and they were beaten off both times by either the rider's firesword or the dragon's snapping jaws. Although he considered using another spell to retrieve the egg, Eragon didn't want to risk a fight with magic on the off chance their adversary could use it. I suppose if he could, he would've fixed the tail by now.

It could be a bluff. Saphira answered.

Using the words of death was an option, too, but simply killing them seemed a little extreme, not to mention neither of them were eager to slay another dragon. In the end, he chose to bend the elements somewhat, creating a warm updraft to smooth out the dragon's flight and see them safely to the island, which was almost directly beneath them now.

It was a large piece of land, easily the size Vroengard, the ancestral home of the Rider's, had been. A thick, evergreen forest covered the majority of the land mass, though one section had been devoted to farmlands, and to the east, Eragon could just make out the vague shape of a settlement. Angling over the trees, he let up on the draft and watched the pair drift toward the earth, until the black dragon's left wing suddenly struck a tree and threw him off balance with a startled roar.

Rider and dragon hit the ground, hard, and lay quietly in the dirt until the rider pushed himself upright with a grimace. He cried out to his dragon as it forced itself to its feet, then whipping around to roar hatefully at Saphira as she circled them. Leaping from her back, Eragon landed smoothly on the grass just as his opponent was staggering to his feet. Both dragons charged off into the undergrowth, leaving torn scrub, splintered tree limbs, and angry roars in their wake.

The black rider turned to Eragon. His helm had been lost in the crash, yet he still had a firm hold on the satchel containing the stolen egg and his eyes were two narrow slits. He was older than him by a few years and, though hunched over in pain, a couple inches taller. The sword in his hand still burned red as the two began to circle on another. For the first time, Eragon noticed one of the interloper's legs ended below the knee, continuing to the ground as some version of a metal leg.

Filing this away for later, he locked his gaze on the rider, waiting for an opening to attack. Then one of the two dragons fighting in the distance roared in agony and the black rider whipped his head around to follow the sound. Seizing his chance, Eragon leapt forward and knocked the firesword from his hand.

An instant later, he'd thrown the rider to the ground, planting a boot between his shoulder blades and Brisingr at his neck. In addition, he had a hold on his wrist and was yanking his arm behind his back in a manner that should've been extremely painful. The rider struggled a little, yelling in pain, then suddenly went limp and his head dropped to the earth with a dull thud. Eragon frowned. Surely the fight hadn't gone out of him already.

He was just about to let go entirely and just keep Brisingr edge by his throat when his opponent gave a sudden twist and Eragon felt something strike the back of his head. He gave a pained shout but stayed upright, although dazed by the attack and the black rider easily squirmed out of his grip and darted out of reach, snatching up his sword in the process.

"Weren't expecting the metal leg, were you?" He asked with a smug grin.

Eragon growled and rose to his feet, gripping his sword tighter. "Tell me why you were on my ship." He demanded, though it felt odd referring to the vessel as 'his' personally. He'd traded the graceful elven ship for it some time ago on account the expert sailors in this part of the world claimed one-masted longboats were more practical in these waters.

The stranger blinked, then asked in a low, coercing tone, "Why do you have dragon eggs in your hold?"

Before Eragon could answer, the black dragon reappeared, charging from the brush and bowling him over as easily as a kitten with a moth, even going so far as to pin his sword arm to the ground. The black's rider was just as startled, staring at them wide-eyed before shouting to Eragon's dismay, "Bad dragon! Get off him! Toothless!"

Saphira charged out of the undergrowth in pursuit of the black dragon. Aside from a couple scratches on her muzzle and a vicious bite on her right foreleg, she seemed unhurt. Relieved, Eragon opened his mind to relay what had occurred, but she turned to knock down the black rider instead. He backed up a few paces, then rather unexpectedly removed something from his person that produced a putrid green gas that he ignited with a spark. Saphira pulled back in alarm, baring her ivory teeth in a snarl.

The second rider warily took a step toward her, extending his right hand until his palm hovered half a foot away from her snout. Saphira snorted suspiciously and narrowed her eyes at the offering, which seemed to perplex the rider, so he turned away and closed his eyes. Cocking her head to the side, her hostility diminished a fraction and she sniffed at the rider's gloved hand.

The black dragon pinning Eragon to the ground had gone still, fixing a glare on Saphira and seeming to have forgotten him altogether. Tentatively, Eragon reached out with his mind to touch the beast's, only to find, like before, nothing but a fierce and boundless devotion to his rider. His upper lip curled with a concern akin to that of a mother bear protecting her young or a man defending his family.

Saphira took no notice. The black rider didn't move. Then, slowly, she closed her crystal blue eyes and touched her nose to the rider's outstretched hand. The rider opened his green eyes and turned to look at her with a smile, raising his other hand to scratch her under her chin. "Hey, now. You're a sweet girl. Look at you."

Saphira opened her eyes and looked at Eragon. I don't think he means to harm us.

Eragon could see that for himself, and he was little disturbed by how easily this other rider had placated his dragon. Like an enormous cat, Saphira purred and nudged the rider with her nose, angling her head as he ran his fingers over her scales and closing her eyes again with a smile.

Likewise, the black dragon also relaxed. Still linked with him, Eragon sensed the creature's instinctive defenses lowering and he attempted soothing him with gentle thoughts. Just as Saphira's was, the black dragon's mind was vast and alien compared to a human's. Suddenly, he shook his head and fixed him with an intense glare before leaping away and settling on a nearby knoll to watch them.

Eragon rose to his feet, brushing himself off, then asked of Saphira, What was that all about?

It seemed like the right thing to do. She replied sheepishly.

Dismayed, he turned to the rider, who was eyeing him warily. It was clear from from his demonstration he meant them no harm, which proved to Eragon's discomfort that he had been the aggressor in their battle. Yet now that they'd established the other was a formidable opponent, neither of them seemed willing to fight again.

A long, tense silence stretched between the four of them, broken by the screams of birds and wild animals that had been disturbed by the skirmish, along with something that sounded like a tree falling in the distance. The black rider winced at that, then turned to Eragon, "So, why is your cargo full of dragon eggs?"

Eragon remained quiet, wondering how to explain.

"Look, I don't want to seem rude or threatening, but you'd better tell me what you're up to before every rider on Berk comes to see what was making all that racket a minute ago."

He raised an eyebrow and surveyed the damage around them, then returned his gaze to the rider. "You wouldn't know about the eggs if you hadn't been on the ship. So what were you doing there in the first place?"

Two pairs of green eyes glared at him, then the rider answered, "All right, one of our sentries spotted an unidentified ship nearby, and I came to investigate. Now about the eggs?"

"I'm transporting them from my homeland in search of a place to raise them safely."

The rider exchanged a glance with his dragon. "Dragon eggs belong with the mother dragons, and I can tell you from experience, they'll do anything to get their young back."

That made sense. "I'm afraid the parents of my charges are dead."

Horror crossed the man's face. "You killed them?" The black dragon snarled.

"No!"

Both of them were silent, studying the other suspiciously, as though expecting another attack. It would seem, Saphira said suddenly, speaking to both of them, The two of you have a story to tell.

The rider recoiled at the sound of Saphira's voice, stumbling backward so violently Eragon thought he was going to fall over. The black dragon, Toothless, pressed his snout into his back to support him, but his rider took no notice. "She speaks?"

Eragon frowned. "Doesn't yours?"

He shook his head. "Dragons don't talk."

Enough! Saphira roared before his confusion could escalate. Eragon, put away Brisingr and introduce us properly.

As he was bid, Eragon sheathed his sword and stepped forward, extending a gloved hand to the opposite. "I am Eragon Shadeslayer, Rider of Alagaësia. And this is my dragon, Saphira Bjartskular."

Cautiously, the black rider gripped his hand and gave a firm shake. "My name's Hiccup, of the isle of Berk. You've already met my friend, Toothless." The black dragon gave an uncanny imitation of a human laugh, bobbing his serpentine head up and done, which made Saphira snort derisively.

They were an odd pair of names, though Eragon did not comment and listened as Hiccup began a story from four years ago, how his people, the Vikings, and the dragons had fought over food and territory for centuries. The battles were fierce and claimed thousands of lives on both sides, including that of his mother when he was a babe. As he spoke, Eragon watched him work to repair the artificial tail he'd broken, expertly sliding a bright yellow fabric over some kind of a connecting rod.

"Then I met Toothless, and everything changed." Toothless rubbed his head against his rider's and nearly knocked him over. "We've learned to train them and live with them. And now they're our greatest friends and allies."

"Like Eragon the Elder." Eragon grinned. Hiccup blinked uncomprehendingly, so he explained how, like the Vikings and the dragons, the elves and dragons in Alagaësia had fought a similar war in his homeland centuries ago, and how the elf Eragon brought an end to the bloodshed by secretly hatching and raising the white dragon Bid'Daum.

Hiccup was silent for some time, trading glances with Toothless, then said in an uncertain voice. "A … flattering comparison, truly. But I can assure you I'm human."

"I can see that."

"So elves exist in your land?"

"Aye, dwarfs and urgals as well."

Hiccup shook his head in bewilderment. "So what happened to this Eragon and Bid'Daum?"

So, Eragon described how the pair had established the Dragon Riders and how they came to protect and serve the people of Alagaësia, first as a means of communication between elves and dragons, then more significantly as rangers and peacemakers. He could tell from Hiccup's face the older man had never heard of such a structure.

"It sounds organized." He commented hesitantly. "My village is a madhouse on the best of days."

Eragon smirked. "And the worst?"

"A war zone." Hiccup frowned. "But what brings you here. I've never heard of Alagaësia, so you must've come a long way. With a cargo hold full of eggs no less."

Eragon then told an abridged version of how the Rider's had been destroyed by King Galbatorix and how fate had left three eggs in his possession, how Saphira had come to him by accident, and how together they'd fought the Empire and overthrown the king. "However, in order to rebuild the Riders, we needed a place to ourselves, so as not to show favoritism for one of the four races: men, elves, dwarfs, and urgals. And there was just no place like that in Alagaësia."

When he finished his tale, Hiccup remarked. "So you intend to never return to this Alagaësia in order to find a sanctuary for the eggs."

"I don't really have a choice."

"What about this Vroengard you mentioned? Surely that would have been a suitable home."

Eragon shook his head. "It's been uninhabitable since the Battle of Doru Araeba."

Hiccup was silent, trading glances with his dragon, who rumbled mournfully up at him. He patted his head. "I know, bud. It is sad."

They don't share the bond you and I have, do they. Eragon said to Saphira.

No. But I think they have one of a different variety.

"What kind of dragon is she?" Hiccup asked, looking up at them again.

Now it was Eragon's turn to frown. "What?" He was about answer there was only one kind of dragon, but he turned to Toothless and observed the black dragon was undeniably different from Saphira, not only in size but in other aspects, such as his small head like that of an adder, his cat-like paws, and the lack of horns and neck spikes. "Are there other types of dragon in your lands?"

"Hundreds more." Hiccup replied, then spun around and removed a heavy, leather-bound book from a compartment in Toothless' saddle.

It was heavier than it looked when he handed it to him. Cracking it open to a page in the middle, Eragon found a detailed sketch of a very small but heavyset dragon that resembled a large bee. Its head was larger than the rest of its body and its short, stumpy tail looked a little like a bludgeon.

The names were interesting, and often quite literal if the illustrations and descriptions could be believed. Monstrous Nightmares whose entire bodies could ignite into an inferno, twin-headed Hideous Zippelbacks, Terrible Terrors roughly the length of his forearm, Deadly Nadders, Gronckles, Whispering Deaths, Changewings, Skrill, Smokebreaths, Skauldrons, and countless others, all unique from one another. Some had four legs, or two, or none at all. One species had four heads while another didn't even have wings.

It seems the dragons here are as diverse from one another as humans, elves, dwarves, and urgals in Alagaësia. Saphira remarked over his shoulder.

"Dragons in my homeland were pretty much the same, aside from color." Eragon explained. "They didn't really have a specific name."

"Then...what does 'bjartskular' mean?"

"Brightscales."

"Suits her. She's pretty." Hiccup complimented, raising a hand to pat the scales on Saphira's neck. "Not every dragon is of a solid color like this. And those that are are usually the hardest to train."

Eragon kept silent as the elder man circled his dragon, taking in every inch of her, from the ends of her claws to the very tip of her tail, with growing fascination. Saphira twisted her head around to follow him as he walked, looking uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but she did not object. After all, he was looking upon her with favor, and Eragon knew from experience her vanity could sometimes stretch across Du Weldenvarden to the Beors and back with plenty to spare.

In contrast, Toothless growled enviously and pointedly turned his back. Absently, Eragon reached out to scratch him between the ears, which seemed to please him a little. When Hiccup finished his inspection, he reached up to pat Saphira's snout again, "You're as lovely as your name is, Saphira."

I like him. Saphira said simply, showing her teeth in a funny smile.

Of course you do. Eragon scowled back.

Then Toothless bounded between Hiccup and Saphira, pushing his rider back and growling. "And you're pouting." Hiccup teased. His dragon snarled and turned away stubbornly. "You big baby."

"You said there are different kinds of dragons in your land." Eragon said. "So what is yours?"

"Nott Moðr." Hiccup answered. "A Night Fury, one of the fiercest and most powerful dragons in the Archipelago."

Eragon believed it, but Toothless still kept his head turned away angrily. Hiccup sighed and skirted his dragon to look him in the eye, which was easier said than done since Toothless kept circling to turn away. "Come on. You can't ignore me forever." It seemed to Eragon Toothless very well could ignore his rider forever. He refused to look at him and even stomped on his only foot.

"Fine, be that way. Oh, right!" Carefully, Hiccup withdrew the purple dragon egg from his satchel and handed it to Eragon. "This is yours then, and I wish you the best of luck finding a home for them."

"Why did you steal it in the first place?"

"I panicked." Hiccup admitted uncomfortably. "I wasn't expecting to find an abandoned ship full of dragon eggs, and...well, it was the one thing I could think of."

"That's right," Eragon remembered, handing the dragon book back to him. "You said earlier that sentries spotted my ship, but I don't recall seeing anyone." Or detecting the presence of anyone else's minds.

Hiccup laughed. "Do you think I'm the only dragon rider on Berk?"

As if in response to his query, a screech sounded above them and a dark shadow swooped over the clearing. All four of them jumped in alarm, turning their eyes skyward as another dragon hovered above the tree line, then began to lower itself into the clearing. This dragon had only two hind legs, and resembled a large, reptilian pheasant. A woman with pale blond hair knotted into a complex braid dismounted before her dragon even landed, dropping a good five feet to the ground, then ran to Hiccup.

"We've been looking everywhere for you!" She cried, gripping an axe in one hand and waving about the other. "Did you know you've been gone for almost an hour? And who is this?" Now holding the axe in both hands, she turned to face Eragon and Saphira. "Are these the two you were fighting earlier when you crashed?"

"You saw that?"

"Everyone saw it!" She shouted, pointing to the east. "You live a quarter mile that way! And you're not exactly hard to miss!"

Beside him, Saphira released a low, throaty laugh. Hiccup's mate is quite excitable, isn't she.

Despite himself, Eragon shared her amusement. The other two riders turned to him with a questioning stare, so he translated, "Saphira thinks your mate is rather humorous."

Infuriated, the woman took a step toward him and raised her axe and probably would've used it if Hiccup hadn't moved to stand at the center of the three dragon/rider pairs. "Uh...Astrid and Stormfly, Eragon and Saphira. Eragon and Saphira, Astrid and Stormfly."

Stormfly cautiously took a step forward and sniffed the end of Saphira's tail, then squawked and backtracked when the blue dragon caught on to what she was doing. Astrid didn't respond, though her blue eyes darted back and forth between her clansman and Eragon, which made her look more than a little confused. "Um … okay? Saphira's the dragon, right? And dragon's don't..."

"I'll explain later." Hiccup assured her, climbing onto Toothless' back. "But Eragon is the captain of the ship Fishlegs saw earlier."

"You mean the one Snotlout, and the Twins 'sailed' into the harbor?" Astrid pulled herself onto Stormfly as she spoke.

Something in her tone told Eragon she had serious doubts in the aforementioned trio. "Is the ship intact?" He asked. "More importantly, is the cargo safe?"

"Well, they didn't sink it." Astrid admitted.

Oh, that inspires confidence. Eragon remarked to Saphira. She said nothing.

"We'd better head back and sort this out." Hiccup sighed, then turned to Eragon. "You coming?"

Eragon hastily climbed onto Saphira's back and all three riders took off, soaring above the trees and heading for a small village less than a quarter mile from their location. By now, the sun had set, casting a warm, orange glow over the world. As they caught the light, Toothless' black scales glowed like fire coals. Stormfly flew alongside him, her scales a warm blue tinted with orange as they reflected the sun.

"Mate! What in Helheim is that supposed to mean?" Astrid demanded, then she twisted her saddle to shout at Saphira or Eragon; he wasn't sure which. "I'm not an animal!"

"Just let it go." Hiccup pleaded, then dropped his head with a groan, "Oh, man."

"What's wrong?" Eragon asked.

"Nothing, it just occurred to me what my dad's gonna have to say about this."

-0-0-0-

Alagaësian Brightscales

Color: Various

Size: Never truly stops growing

Defenses: Breathes fire, talons

Egg Incubation: See below

Notable Qualities: Fiercely loyal to his or her Rider, exceptional air combatant, suited for war, enjoys flattery

Brightscales are true to their name and come in all colors and shades with hides that shine like gemstones. Originating from the distant land of Alagaësia, this species of dragon was almost hunted to extinction by the evil king Galbatorix. One unique factor about this species is it chooses when to hatch. If raised in the wild, it hatches when there is an abundance of food, but if it comes into contact with humans, it will hatch for one it chooses to be its rider.

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: Written for my sister, Scordatura, to celebrate her completion of sophomore year of high school. Way to go, kid! Two years left! Hope you like your special one-shot.

Also, this fic was written because I wanted to think about what would happen if these two got into a fight. I've never written for Eragon before, so this didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped, but I think it's okay.

And for the rest of us, only seven days until How to Train Your Dragon 2 comes to theaters! Or, you know, the rest of it aside from the approximate 15.43 minutes that's already on the internet. No, seriously, I counted.

Review and favorite if you liked it!

Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train Your Dragon or the Inheritance Cycle.