The Dragon's Spirit That Haunts

Spirits often come in different forms. Some let of anger and threat that can traumatize even the best of them, while others give off mystery and chills that rattle the spine. But spirits aren't just you coming out of your deceased body, no they're the emotion that's left from when they die. Peaceful spirits go to a safe haven of peace to watch their families grow while angered spirits are left in a realm of fire to gain strength and power in hopes of returning to release this among the poor and innocent.

Spirits with enough of the right emotions can succeed in this treacherous crime. They take their time in years to watch the world below them, gain strength, and wait for the right moment to strike. And it's truths like this that brings us to where our tale begins. A small island that was cozy enough to bring happiness and comfort, big enough to support life, and cold enough to steal the sun's heat. A small village set on the south side that held Vikings of plenty and homes of many. One such family consisted of only 2. A father and son, chief and heir who's suffered the tragedy of losing one such spirit.

The child she bore was one of the same in her, same shining, green eyes and tuffy brown hair. This child was not like the rest of the Viking clan. He held a scrawny frame and a kind heart that sought to help the needs of others more than his. Only at age 5 this was already clear as the boy showed intelligence and compassion well beyond his age. As well at age 5, the loss of his mother. His voice, defence, family, protector, and the only to ever have faith in the boy lost to the war that lasted since the island had been inhabited.

The chief was another thing from his beloved son. Large were the muscles that rippled along with every move and broad was the height he stood at. A long beard with deep, amber-red color that matched any and all hair he had. Stone were his eyes in color and emotion, and emotionless they stayed. Even as his wife died in his arms, only few droplets of tears strayed down from his eyes. The war took her, one that had been raging far longer than he.

And rage he did, against all of the scaled beasts that landed upon his land. Any raid that came left with fewer than before. Dragons and revenge was all the chief thought about, pushing aside his son to his friend to watch. Endless nights of revenge filled thoughts slowly caused him to darken. He held no mercy to dragons, hatchling or not and gave each one slow, and pain-filled deaths. Not even to a male Night Fury and the eggs he was protecting. This is where it all started.

"So, you think you beasts can get away with liv'in on my island. After what you did to MY WIFE?!" the angered chief yelled. The Night Fury had 5 eggs and all but one remained unsmashed. He took his one egg and ran, cornered in the center of town now and slowly dying of injuries. The egg still remained under his wing as he was collapsed to the ground from bloodloss. The dragon gave eyes full of just as much hate to the Viking in front of him, knowing just the feeling.

The Dragon met his eye then looked at the mass of warriors around him. Knowing what was to come he turned to his egg, rubbing it a little. His egg was dying just as much as he was, kept cold for too long caused the shell to stone. Looking back at the chief he gave a silent message. The chief didn't notice, nor care and he took his axe and implanted it in the flat head of the black dragon. He died instantly and just as he did the egg had completely stoned over.

The chief took this as a trophy and had a fountain where the egg rested on top made. He did this so any dragon that came far and wide would see the power and hate he had for them and that they'd better back off. But right before the dragon died, that silent message was one of revenge. He promised to be back and would make him pay for his deed. During this, all children were to be kept in the Great Hall for safety, and all but one was accounted for.

A 6 year old boy with green eyes and brown hair watched this in horror, blood everywhere and Vikings shouting and walking away like it wasn't a life that they just took.

He stood there in shock and trauma from what was done, even after they left. He snapped out of it and ran over to the Night Fury. Thunder rolled in overhead and Hiccup just stared at the now pale dragon in front of him. Crawling up slowly and setting it's head into his lap, rain began to pour.

He stroked the dry scales and hugged the head. "I...I...I'm s...s..sorry that t..this happened to you. You were just p..protecting your egg." He looked up and let tears stream down his face along with rainwater. "I'll t..take care of y..your egg. Even if it doesn't hatch, what he did wasn't right." Voices of distant Vikings could be heard and the boy's head jerked up at them. Looking down again he planted a kiss on the forehead and ran off to make an alibi.

It's this that set off the course of events that was soon to hit the island of Berk.

4 Years Later

Hiccup's POV

Now, raids were nothing new here on the stuffy island of Berk. Rain, hail, and most commonly snow was all part of the experience. Not a fun one at that. But the one that was happening right now was one of our worst nights. There was no Night Fury, the last one believed to have been killed by my father, Stoick the Vast. Now, my dad has had..well..emotional problems since my mother's death. She died in a raid like this one and he's never been the same since.

Dragons, and how how to kill them was his mind now, not raise his son or worry what's going on in his life. He just dumped me with my uncle Gobber who trains me in the arts of blacksmithing. He's more of a father figure to me, but he still isn't my father. I've tried with my dad 100s of times, but all he's done is shove me towards Gobber and say 'he's busy'. No one falls for that, but no one also argues. I know my dad still loves me, but he doesn't care for me. Tells me to stay put or I'm inside for a week.

Now, despite being the heir and all, that doesn't stop the 'rats' from making my life a living hell. Can't go a day without some sort of abuse, mental or physical. I get no break at age 10. The rats were my cousin Snotlout, previous crush Astrid, the twins Ruff and Tuff, and also previous friend Fishlegs. Fishlegs doesn't say or do anything but avoids me in fear of the same treatment. I stayed inside this raid and just drew in my journal. My house wasn't attacked at all, and only slightly burned on the outside; I saw it when I left after the dragons flew off. I wasn't needed today, still to inexperienced to do anything major at the forge, so I went out to the woods.

I usually come out here to take my mind off of things like Snotlout, the village that hates me, and my dad who only takes care of me because of my mother who died. I walked until I came to the same cave that Night Fury used to live in. Ever since I witnessed his death he's only ever been on my mind. I wish I could have stopped it, but what could a 6 year old even do? Let alone a 6 year old me. I wander to the cave a lot and just speak my mind. I know no one ever hears me, but I get a strange comfort from the Night Fury.

I never understood why and never will, but I just do it anyway. "I'm back" I say into the cave. It echoed down the tunnel as I walked in. I didn't bring a light as I always knew somehow where I was going. I sat down and laid there, waiting as if the omonis dragon would show. Nothing new was going on so I just let the comfort of this empty cave seep inside me. It makes me wonder if the Fury had been alive if I would stay with it. I get so comfortable around anything he had, the cave, his egg, and where he died.

A sudden warmth crept over me like a blanket and trapped me. I couldn't move. This warmth should have scarred me, caused me to panic and scream, but I didn't. The warmth was like the one I'd get from the cave, only intensified. The cave suddenly lit up as a glowing orb with mist trailing behind it appeared. I could only watch, paralyzed still as it formed the shape of the fury, head cracked open still when the axe of my father hit it. The shape wasn't black, though; more of a grey that was see through.

I looked with wondrous eyes as it walked towards me, as unthreatening as possible. It's eyes remained the acid green, but lighter like they were dead. Only they were swirling with emotion. He leaned down and sniffed my face, his cold breath hitting my face. Yet I still didn't quiver in fear. It suddenly stopped glowing and it's form became more solid. You could tell he wasn't natural because his appendages moved like they were floating in water.

I finally felt my limbs again and sat up slowly. It didn't charge me, roar, or try to kill me, only stared with care that wasn't expected from a dragon. "Are...are you..r..real?" was the first thing to come from my voice. It smiled, teeth missing and let out a throaty laugh. It walked up to me, or floated and curled around me. Instead of the cold that came from his breath, he felt warm. His scales were dry and easily cracked, but they brought me comfort. I wanted to ask the unspoken question, but I just laid there and breathed in his scent. I smelled like I'd imagine a dragon's smell. Earthy and fishy.

He looked at me with large amounts of gratitude. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him; "I don't know if you remember what I said before, but I'm sorry my father killed you and your eggs". I felt him lick my hair and the sensation caused me to laugh.

From that moment forth any lone time young Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had, he spent it with the dragon goul. They would play, they would cuddle, and take care of each other. Well, the dragon would take care of Hiccup. He was given the name of Toothless for his smile and unlikelihood of friendliness towards him. Not too soon after they met, Hiccup suddenly disappeared from the village. Searches went on, but all came back without a trace. The Chief wasn't even showing emotion. He didn't even when Gobber informed him on it. No pain, fear, worry, or care. Only the darkness he had from when his wife died. To him, he lost his son when his wife died.