The Last of the Dragon Riders

Hey y'all!

This is going to be a short story, something like 2-3 chapters, so nothing much, and for the people who have read my other story, the next chapter is coming soon, don't worry. This was just an idea I had after the trailer for the third movie dropped and I thought I'd do something with it!

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock IV gazed out upon the seas around Berk through his auburn hair, the waves crashing against rocks and ships alike, the cold wind chilling his face, the smell of salt in his nose. The old Viking guardian statues were currently being torn down, in order to make room for the new Christian statues that would take their place. The island was, after all, no longer home to savage Vikings but to Berkians who had been Christianized by the missionaries, converted and now a peaceful trading island. The old fighting arena, allegedly used to train new Vikings and gladiator-like fights, had been torn down and the Viking influences swept from the island. Every resident was a peaceful Norseman or woman that was still proficient in sailing the seas, albeit this time with gold substituted for weapons.

Well, all but one of the residents.

Who would that be? His grandfather, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. He didn't know much about his grandfather, other than he was formerly a Viking, although one time his father, Asher Haddock, said he looked like Hiccup III.

When talking with the traders, those from the Christian mainlands told him stories of a ruthless Berkian Chief that conquered the peaceful, friendly islands before embarking on a campaign against the Slavic peoples and nomadic tribes in Scandinavia. Those from the former Viking islands, however, told a story of a man that peacefully united the Viking tribes against a ruthless warlord known as Drago, destroying his forces and becoming King of the Wilderwest, ruling over a united Viking Archipelago before his first son's death, Stoic Haddock II, resulted in the fracture of the Kingdom. His second son, Asher, converted to Christianity and won the protection of the Catholic Church, saving Berk from internal warfare and external threats. He was only barely able to convince the Scandinavian armies from other kingdoms that protected the island to spare what was left of the Vikings, leaving those who supported Hiccup III to be cast out to the far side of Berk, and Hiccup III to live at the top of Raven's Pointe.

On personal details, not much was known about Hiccup III. Hiccup knew from his father that Hiccup III had a wife and several friends, but all of them had long since passed, each one having their body loaded onto a ship, set alight, and cast off. Each time, the ships were swallowed up by an intense fog, preventing the villagers from seeing whether or not the ship sank. Each time, however, Hiccup had not come out of his home on the top of Raven's Pointe.

He almost felt bad for his grandfather, having no friends, no one to talk to anymore, and being thought of by everyone as a bloodthirsty, violent leader. Even King Asher Haddock, son of the last King of the Wilderwest, rarely spoke of his father. It was a mystery to him, why no one on the island knew anything about this man.

Hiccup sighed and turned to walk back towards the forge, the sun just beginning to set and the sky changing from blue to red and orange. He had been working in the forge since he was ten, and now that he was eighteen, he was fairly skilled in the metalworking, making trinkets, rings, decorative swords, axes, and other products that were sold by the traders at the various markets around the islands. While turning eighteen was something to celebrate for most Norseman, he dreaded it, as it meant that that he would soon have to take the reins from his father and become the King of Berk, then probably marrying that crazy princess from the Bog Islands, Camicazi. She wasn't unattractive, but she was fairly combative and intense, which scared the sensitive Berkian Prince.

It wasn't all that bad, but he'd rather marry someone his own age if it could be helped. What was worse was the fact that his father was only desiring the marriage because it would unite the Kingdom of Berk and the Bog Islands, giving his son more territory to command and more wealth. It would also help the people of Berk by giving them more access to food coming from the Bog Islands. "Always put the people before yourself, boy," was what his father told him at least once a day. He hated it, mostly because he didn't want to be a king. He didn't even want to be a prince, as a matter of fact. What he wanted to be was an adventurer, going to the Far East, meeting new people, seeing exotic plants, and all of the other wonders the world had. He had even heard of a place called Vinland, far across the seas of the West, that the Vikings, under Hiccup III's orders, had discovered, planning to settle there before their collapse.

Once his work was finished he began walking home, the sun now having set about an hour ago, and decided to take a little detour on the way to his house, walking around the edges of the village. He was told by many of the townspeople, who were more European than Berkian at this point, to avoid the forests at the outskirts, as demonic dragons roamed them and would eat anyone that came within the dark woods.

"Right, because dragons are real," he smirked to himself. How could they be real?

Enjoying the fresh air out by the cliffs, he decided to sit down on the edge of one, just outside the village. He looked back at the small huts and houses, then to the workers still working on removing the Viking guardians, their light now provided by hundreds of torches. He took out his sketchbook and decided to start doodling a little bit. He make sketches of the village, the workers, the cliffs, the rocks sticking out of the sea, and even the mountain behind him. He was in the middle of drawing his grandfather's house when a strange sound caught his attention. It sounded like thunder, but shorter and higher in pitch. Like an explosion, but also different.

He looked around him, seeing if the sound was from anything near him, but he didn't see anything. He searched around him again, and got up to look at anything on the other side of the hill, but didn't see anything. "Hm," was all he said before sitting down and finishing the sketch. He didn't even hear what was behind him.

"You know, I used to sketch when I was your age."

"AAAH!" He jumped, dropping his sketchbook and raising his hands, ready to fight this man who snuck up him.

This…old man. This old man with a walking stick and grey beard and large fur cape. Oh, okay, it's just an old man trying to talk. He studied the man's features, as there was something familiar about them but he just couldn't place it. "Do I know you, sir?" Maybe he was another traveler that came in on a late ship, hoping to settle here.

"You…You don't know me?" The old man seemed a little heartbroken.

"I…," What do I say? I don't want him to get made at me and start a fight! "It's just…Well, I need to know your name. As Prince, I would like to know your name, stranger, or otherwise I will call my guards." That was a bluff, there were probably no Berkian guards near here, and the Scandinavian soldiers were almost as cruel as raiders and pirates.

"Well, in that case, let me introduce myself, young Prince," he bowed, "my name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. I believe that you are my grandson, so I am a little disappointed in my son for not having told you about me."

Hiccup's heart dropped. This man was his grandpa? While he wasn't threatening himself, he was old and frail-looking, the legacy of this man was terrifying all of a sudden. Stories he once doubted were, for some reason, becoming more and more believable, now that the man was physically in front of him. Now that the former King of the Wilderwest was standing in front of him, real, the crimes he allegedly committed seemed real.

"Uhhh…"

"It's alright, son, you don't have to say anything. I know what you people have said of me, denouncing me and calling me a savage and whatnot, probably thrown the word bloodthirsty in there as well…"

"Uhhh…"

"Oh, come on! This is the former King of the Wilderwest, the greatest Viking Chieftain to ever rule Berk, your grandfather, and all you can say is 'uhhhhh?"

"Well…I…I just…"

"It's okay, son," he chuckled a little, and the sound was reassuring for some reason, calming him somewhat. "I would be afraid, too. I understand I am somewhat an…unpopular person because of my background and history, unfortunately."

"Yeah, a little," he regretted saying that, as his grandfather became upset, bowing his head a little and looking at the ground, "but it's also just weird! You know, I've never met you and all this people have told me all of this stuff about you, and I don't know what's real or not!"

"Well," he paused and turned away, pulling a blue handkerchief out of his pocket and covered the violent coughs that wracked his body, "I suppose that's because talking about me in some shape or form is outlawed, right?"

"Well, kind of, yeah. It covers just anything about Vikings."

"But, why would they outlaw any talk about Vikings or me if it's negative or derogatory, showing us as violent demons?"

"Well, because the law says…"

"No, think. They wouldn't, would they? They only let the people telling horrible stories about us be free because it helps them, right?"

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Are you sure you're my grandson?"

"What? Hey! What do you mean by that?"

"You're a little slow to understand somethings, son."

"Oh, like I'm supposed to understand everything that's said? I just assumed they would care about talking about Vikings in general!"

"Well, they can't aren't arresting everyone on the streets, are they?"
"What? Arresting? No, it's illegal and the punishment is being sent to Hell…"

"Sent to Hell?! Oh, that's how they're keeping the population in line nowadays," he laughed again, this time followed by more violent coughing, "When I was chief, I had to keep some of my men, namely Jorgensons, in line with threats that…" he paused for a second, his face going completely blank, "of banishment! That was the only way to…ground…them."

"Oh," Hiccup didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know anyone named Jorgenson. A silence fell between them, before he thought of a question. "Wait, why are you here? You're banished from the village and you're only supposed to be living at your home, with the rest of your…people on the far side of the island."

"My people?"

"Yeah, the...Vikings."

"Ok, son, first off," he pointed to the village of Berk, "those are my people. True-blooded Berkians, if there any left in that village, and not the mainland scum your father let in after Stoic died. Second, everyone I know is now dead. Eret, Dagur, Heather, Mala, Tuffnut and Ruffnut Thorston, Snotlout Jorgenson, Fishlegs Ingerman, Gobber and…" his face became more somber, "Astrid. I'm the only one left. And to answer your question, of why I'm here…" he pulled out his handkerchief again and began coughing, "I'm…dying."

"You're…dying?" his grandfather didn't look that old, how could he be dying?

"Yes, dying." He showed him the handkerchief, and in the dark he could some of the spots on it were darker than the others. Blood. He backed up quickly. "Oh, don't be so scared, it's not spreading. I've had this cough for years and Astrid never got it."

"Who's…Who's Astrid?"

"She is…" his voice became lower and more fragile, "well…was…my wife. A woman whom I admired and still admire every day, even if she has passed into Valhalla." Hiccup was feeling a little sorry for his exiled grandpa, he would didn't want to tell him that his wife, whom he seemed to love very much, was probably not in Valhalla, whatever that was. "She was the best warrior the world has ever known, and probably the only person who could talk sense into my stubborn head." He laughed a little to himself. "She…uhh…got very sick, one day, and then a few days later she was gone. She didn't leave any note, and I never found her body anywhere in the forests, so…" he stopped, obviously not wanting to continue.

"Oh," he wasn't sure what to say, "sorry for your loss, sir."

"Don't call me sir, please, just…just call me grandpa, or something else. Just no sir crap."

"Ok, ummmm…" he didn't really feel comfortable calling him grandpa, "Hiccup." You're actually an idiot, he told himself.

"Wonderful." The older Hiccup walked over to the ledge, coughing more and more into his handkerchief, before sighing and taking in the sea around his former home. It was kind of sad, Hiccup had to be admit, to see someone who was his family and know so little about them, as well as be illegal to even see him.

"Uhh, Hiccup? The third?"

"What's with the title, just call me by name if you're really that uncomfortable with acknowledging I'm family."

"Why are you here? Wait, I know you're dying, but why'd you pick this location? This is illegal for you to be here, and the island's so big, I thought you'd have another place to pick, maybe."

The older Hiccup sighed, his grey hair fluttering in the wind, and took a deep breath. "A long time ago, I came up here and did something that changed my life, and the course of the entire Archipelago, forever. A few days after this, I met someone who changed my life forever. He and I were not the best of friends at first, but one night, I gained his trust, his friendship, and he gained my loyalty. After, I helped him regain something he'd lost, because of me, and I lost this," he showed his foot, which Hiccup now saw to be a prosthetic, "because of him. But, it made us both stronger, and together, we went on countless adventures and saw so much of the world. He changed my life forever, and changed our entire world, too. I wanted to come up here and see the seas of my home one last time, before I go there to die." Tears welled in the former chieftain's eyes, and Hiccup felt bad for him. This is grandpa, Hiccup, you have to help him somehow.

But this man is a Viking, he even admitted it!

Look at him, does he look like an actual Viking? He's old, and dying, and he has no one left to be with him. At least help him this one time. The angel on his shoulder won the argument that time, although Hiccup still had reservations about it. He took a deep breath, and summoned all of his courage: "Do you…ummm…want me to go with you? To wherever to die? Maybe some company in your final moments would be nice?"

The older Hiccup turned and smiled at the younger Hiccup, a soft, heartwarming, gratuitous smile. "That…That would be very nice, thank you, son." He got up slowly, picking up his waking stick and a bag that Hiccup didn't see before and began walking towards the woods.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Towards what I hope to be my final resting place?"

"In there?" He pointed towards the trees, and the older Hiccup took one look in the direction before laughing.

"Yes! That's where the Cove is! Why, are you afraid of something in there?"

"Well, no…I mean…Well, dragons don't exist so they can't be in the forest-" that seemed to stop the older Hiccup in a second, turning around and getting in so close to his face he could smell the bark he probably chewed earlier this morning.

"What did you say?"

"I…nothing…I said there can't be anything in there?"

"No no no, before that?"

"I…dragons aren't real?" The older Hiccup seemed to take offense to this, immediately turning around and storming off towards the forest.

"Wait, what?"

"Nevermind, just come with me if you still want to be my companion!"

About 15 minutes later, they had reached a small cove out in the forests. The older Hiccup seemed to not care about the darkness of the forest of the potential predators watching them right now, but the same couldn't be said for his grandson, who was nervous yet excited about being in a place he'd never seen before. Hiccup III must have noticed this.

"Excited about something?"

"Just…I've never been outside the village before, that's all."

"Not even in the forests?"

"Especially not. They're off limits, according to the soldiers from the other Kingdoms."

"Ha! I let my second son take over my kingdom, and he turns it into a puppet for the mainland," he turned around, "when I was your age, I was living on another island, fighting an enemy much larger and more numerous than my forces, of which I only had 11 other soldiers in my command! And that was already after I had defeated two other chiefs from different islands!"

"What, really?"

"Yeah! We lived on the edge, exploring, finding treasures…you know, it was there that I decided to start dating my wife."

"You lived on the edge? What does that mean?"

"What…," he hmphed angrily, "not lived on the edge, we lived on the Edge! The island's name was the Edge!"

"There's no islands around here named 'the Edge'."

"That's probably because that Roman or King or something has changed all of the names of the islands. I bet our houses don't even exist anymore. Ah, we're here!" He gestured to a small cove in front of the pair, where there was only a small pond and some grass. It was kind of… "Boring, yes, I know, but so many things happened here, it's hard to know what's more important than others." He led him down a small rocky path to the bottom, where they crossed through some rocks. In front of the pair, Hiccup IV saw something strange jutting between the rocks. It was circular, and covered in vines and rot.

"What is that?"

"A mistake from another age. My first shield." He laughed, patting it, "you know, all this time, it might be able to come loose…" He set his stick against a rock, coughed a little, and then grabbed the shield with both hands and began to pull. The shield squeaked and cracked, but it didn't budge.

"Here, let me try," the younger Hiccup tried, and on the third attempt the shield broke free, throwing him back on the ground and holding the faded piece of Viking weaponry.

"Aha! You did it! Finally! That's been there longer than your father has been alive!" He took the shield and brushed off some of the vines, strapping it to his arm and testing the weight.

It was somewhat surreal to the younger Prince of Berk. Here was this man, whom so many in his village were afraid of and soldiers and traders that only spoke ill of, acting like a complete child with a shield too small for him. He was actually happy he had the shield back, but why was it there in the first place?

"Why was the shield there in the first place?" He got up and followed Hiccup to a tree near the pond, sitting next to him on a flat rock. Funny, the rock looked a little darker than some other ones.

"I brought it when I met my friend for the first time, thinking I'd need it. Turns out, fish was better than a shield."

"What? How?"

"He liked fish."

"What did you say your friend's name was?"

"I…didn't say."

"What was his name, then?"

"Uhhh…Tooth…less...Toothless. That was his name."

"What? What kind of a name is Toothless?"

"Yeah, great name, I know. Well, Vikings believed a hideous name would frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that." They both laughed a little, but something sat funny with the younger Hiccup.

"So, wait, you and Toothless are enemies, but you suddenly stop fighting, right?"

"Well…yes."

"And you guys just become friends instantly, like that?"

"Well…not instantly-"

"But you guys fought one another, I'm assuming for years before, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. Well, actually it was his…people that fought Berk for years before, for hundreds of years, but eventually we brought them in and Toothless and I created a lasting peace."

"Obviously didn't last long since you went on to conquer lands in the east not 5 years after that."

"6 years, and that's…unrelated don't ask me about that."

"Why? What happened?"

"A tyrant happened. One that wanted to control and conquer the world using…using an army of slaves to do his bidding, against their will…"

"Oh, conquering the world? Like everyone but you says the Vikings did?"

"I don't expect to like what I did, but we were trying to survive."

"I wouldn't exactly say burning churches is surviving."

"We weren't burning the churches, we were burning what was inside of them. The information inside documents in the churches."

"Ok, like Bibles? So you could brainwash people into accepting some archaic belief about Nordic gods of Thunder and mythical hammers and frost giants?"

"No. You don't understand, you wouldn't understand," he turned to the younger Hiccup, forest green eyes stony and focused, "I ordered those documents to be burned to protect my friend."

"Your friend? The one that you fought initially, made peace with, stopped a never-ending war, went on adventures with, and fought a tyrant with?" He nodded, but the younger Hiccup could've sworn that when he turned away he heard the words 'set up' and 'girlfriend' too. "You expect me to believe that after that tall tale, you decided to kill hundreds of people to protect your friend?"

"I…Look, I'm not proud of what I did. I don't like that many people were killed, I hated it, but I had to keep certain information about my friend and his people from getting into the hands of people who wanted it."

"Like who?"

"Like…Hunters! Ok? They hunted down people like my friend! We had to stop the information about them from getting out to others, and after that we destroyed the Hunters and the rest of the tyrant's army."

"You're not making any sense. What was so special about your friend? What information were you concerned about escaping? What couldn't he do it?"

"He…He wasn't present at the time."

"Oh, so he left? Some friend that was." That must've stuck a nerve with the older Haddock, who immediately stood up and grabbed the younger one's shirt collar.

"You shut your mouth. You have no idea who he was, how important he was, or how much he changed me. He is the only reason you even exist."

"What was he?"

"What?" The older Hiccup let go of the younger one's shirt collar, and was confused at the question.

"What was he? No two humans stop fighting that quickly unless there's another, larger enemy-"

"There was-"

"Hold on- that threatens the two of them, and even after most will continue fighting. That holds, but also you make it sound like he was persecuted and hunted by several people-"

"Yes, the Hunters, the tyrant and a man named Grimmel, to name a few…"

"Ok, well, no people are persecuted that much on this side of Europa." He paused, "That's why I asked. You're friend doesn't even sound human, more like a rare dog or something, but even then why was there a war? See, that's why I'm so confused, you talk of him like he's a human, but from what I know, he's not. So, what is he?"

The older Hiccup stood there, obviously searching for words to respond, but finding none. This made the younger Hiccup even more curious. "Why can't you talk about him? What's wrong? Is this all made up or something?" Becoming slightly more worried the younger Hiccup slowly began reaching for the knife he kept sheathed on the back of his belt.

"Look, I'm not sure if you'll believe me…" Just before he could respond, a shout echoed from outside the cove.

"FREEZE, VIKING!" Soldiers dressed in armor and wearing white shirts with a red cross on them appeared all around the area, aiming crossbows at Hiccup III. "Don't more towards the prince anymore! Hands up!"

"Prince, back away from the Viking," another soldier yelled. Some of the men had entered the cove with swords drawn, walking towards the pair.

"Did you lead them here?" The older Hiccup's voice sounded broken, decimated with betrayal and hurt, because of his own grandson.

"What, no, I…" in that moment, he realized his mistake. I left the sketchbook on the cliffs. They must've found it and followed us here from the footprints. His heart broke at the hurt in his grandpa's eyes. "I'm so so sorry, I…"

"No, it's ok. I understand. As of late, the Haddock line seems to have a tendency to betray family members." Venom was laced into his voice, and his grandson didn't blame him.

The soldiers finally reached the pair and put shackles on the older Hiccup's hands and took off his prosthetic leg. "Oh, why…" he was cut off by a punch in the stomach, followed by intense coughing and Hiccup could've sworn he saw some more blood come spilling from the elder's mouth.

"Can it, Viking scum."

"Guys, can't he have his leg back?"

"I'm sorry, Prince, but this man is a dangerous-"

"He's an old man, for Chrissakes-"

"He's a DANGEROUS, bloodthirsty Viking!"

"Yeah, look at me, so bloodthirsty?"

"Shut it, scum." The soldiers set him down on his knees, and before the younger Hiccup's eyes, one walked forward with his sword drawn. He started panicking.

"Wait, you can't do that, the King-"

"Your king has no command over us," the soldier replied, "I know of the deal to spare the heathens, but frankly, we don't care…"

"You can't do that!"

"Any last words, Viking heathen? Perhaps you'd like to convert to save your soul eternal damnation?"

"All I have to say is that I lived my life to the best I could, and helped as many as I could. I saved countless lives and taken others, but whether I'm remembered as famous or infamous, my story will be remembered for ages to come. And I am lying on the ground, the Valkyries will come for me, and I will rejoice with my kind in Valhalla as the Last of the Vikings."

"Very well," the soldier raised the sword, and the older Hiccup just closed his eyes, accepting it his fate, seeming to be truly happy and at peace.

"NOOO!" Hiccup IV's legs were frozen to the ground, but he couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let his grandpa, exiled or not, be killed while the law allowed him to live. Please, God, don't let him die…

The sword was its apex when some type of roar echoed throughout the sky. A whoosh was heard and the trees swayed at the speed of whatever object caused the sound, and the soldiers began to get nervous. The sword was halted, the executioner looking around, partially in fear, while the older Hiccup opened his eyes and laughed, loud and hysterically. "Ohh, is that you up there, bud? After all these years, you finally thought you'd drop by to say hi again? Can I just say you have impeccable timing?!"

"Who are you talking to," Hiccup IV asked.

"Oh, my old friend…"

"Enough talk," the executioner had turned back around, "let's get this over with," pointing the sword at the Viking's neck.

"Oooooo, I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, smiling.

"Really? And why ever not?"

"Because Toothless doesn't like it when you have a weapon in the Cove." Absolutely mad, he has to be was all that the younger Hiccup could think at the moment. The sword raised, and the younger Hiccup braced for what was going to happen next.

What happened next, however, was a surprise to everyone, it seemed, except the Viking Hiccup.

First, a small explosion went off five feet in front of them, and a white thing shot out of the smoke and tackled the executioner, knocking him off his feet, before disappearing again in another small explosion.

Then, a black snake or vine or tail or something swept all of them off their feet, before something carried the two soldiers holding the older Hiccup into the air and dropping them in the pond. What the…

Finally, a screech was heard throughout the sky, getting louder and louder by the second and then multiplying, but the older Hiccup just sauntered over to the flat rock and grabbed his old shield, wiping the vines off of it.

"What's…What's going?"

"Oh, yeah, you might want to…" He didn't finish, as he ducked behind his shield when the screaming in the sky reached its highest pitch. All of a sudden, three blue explosions erupted all around the cave, the absolute brilliance and force behind them stunned and blinded the young Haddock, before a fourth and more powerful struck outside of the Cove, knocking everything back with all it's power and might. The young Haddock, still temporarily blinded, was sent colliding with a large stone, and he could he feel the world slowly becoming darker around him. The last thing he remembered before going unconscious was something grabbing at his shirt collar.

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the sand. It was everywhere, and it was itchy. The second thing he noticed was the light. He brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes, slowly opening them and taking in his surroundings.

Okay, sun, good, cave, sand, beach…Wait, sand? Beach? He shot up quickly, too quickly, and immediately became dizzy. He grabbed his head.

"Easy, you might have a concussion, Toothless is to blame for that one."

"Yeah, well, tell Toothless he can repay for it in gold."

"Yeah, well…Toothless doesn't deal in gold."

"Okay, well…what does he deal in?" He was still rubbing his eyes.

"Uhhh…Fish. Grass. Sometimes mechanical contraptions…"

"Okay, well, he owes me somehow," he opened his eyes, "now, where did he take us? Your friend? And is he some sort of wizard or something?"

"Why would you ask that?" Now, Hiccup III looked as if he was trying to hold in a laugh.

"Well, with the whole…Teleportation, and the lifting people up, and the explosions, no weapons can do any of that."

"Well, I'll tell you right now, Toothless can only do two of those. His girlfriend can do all three, though.

"Wait, what?"

"And as to where we are, I can tell you for a fact I know where we are," he walked past his grandson to the entrance of the cave, "the island we are at is one humans still have yet to colonize, but they probably never will because it's so desolate. And it's of the greatest importance to Toothless and his friends."

"How long have we been here? What is it called?"

"Well, you woke up only a few minutes after we arrived, and as for the name of the island," he paused and looked dramatically out towards the sea,

"Vanaheim."

Pause.

Longer pause.

"Is that supposed to mean something, sir?"

"Wha-stop with the sir stuff, and yes! It's Vanaheim!"

"Is that the place you said you were gonna go when you died?"

"NO! THAT'S VALHALLA, THIS IS VANAHEIM, IT'S THE….MMMRRRRR" he just growled to himself now, picked up his walking stick and coughed more into the cloth. "It's…ugh, ok, I'll admit, everything I said has been mostly true. I've lied on a few parts, but if I promise to come clean, will you at least try to believe me and not do anything stupid?"

"Yeah, sure, I-" another whoosh overhead, this time a shadow flew on the beach, and from the split second he saw it, it looked like a giant bat. His heart began pumping in his ears. "What is this?"

A deep breath. Everything around them, even the waves seemed to silence.

"There…There were dragons, when I was a boy. We fought them for years but Toothless and I defeated the one controlling them and brought peace between humans and dragons. We defended dragons and humans alike from common enemies, and our cooperation turned Berk into a dragon utopia. But, soon they had to leave this world. Where they went, only a few know when they left. Now, I am the only one left, the only who knows where they went."

"So…the Vikings? The Vikings knew where they all went, but now you're the last one?"

"Close. I may be the last Viking, but there is another thing I signal the end for."

"And that is…?"

"I…I…I am the last of the Vikings, but more importantly, the Riders. I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, am the last of the Dragon Riders. Think of me whatever you want, I do not care, but listen to me. our story changed the world forever..."

To be continued…

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