It had been an hour since they had left Berk.

The sun was setting in the horizon, its warm rays shining upon the surface of the ocean. A briny smell was present in the air, though it wasn't as strong as it was near the water.

Both dragon and rider were silent. Though, it would be considered normal for the dragon to remain quiet. This had him worried, his head tilting up to get a better view at his rider. A concerned grumble came from him.

Hiccup blinked at this, whatever state of mind he was in slipping away instantly.

"I'm alright, Toothless. Just...thinking," he said, rubbing his friend's head for reassurance.

He knew the first few words were a complete lie. He was not alright, not in any shape or form. And now that he was thinking about what to do next, he felt helpless. Where were they even going? What were they going to do? Will they survive on their own?

It wasn't until a few minutes passed that he remembered about something...important.

"Oh, great," Hiccup suddenly groaned, a hand passing through his hair in nervous frustration. "Astrid...I have to get back to Astrid…" He had seen her back at the arena, shortly before he left, but the idea of meeting up with her hadn't crossed his mind. Yet...logically speaking, he wouldn't have been able to talk to her even if he wanted to. Landing anywhere on Berk would have made his father send out a search party, and they'd find them faster than Astrid could have.

He bit the inside of his cheek, casting a glance behind them. There was nothing but ocean. Berk was long behind them.

Surely, however, there was no way that they were going to turn around to head back to Berk. At least, not now. It would be too dangerous, and Hiccup knew his father far too well. Search parties would be the number one event going on, meaning there wouldn't be any point in hiding.

Besides, didn't he agree he would never come back?

Hiccup swallowed at this thought, a pinch of sadness in his chest. He really did just throw everything behind him like it was nothing. Without hesitation, he had chosen to leave for good.

But, as he tried to remind himself, it was for a good cause. He focused his gaze on the top side of Toothless' head, watching the dragon navigate their surroundings. Toothless was the exact reason why he had chosen to leave. He was his best friend, and there was no denying it. Plus, their friendship was ultimate proof that dragons and Vikings could live among each other in peace.

Hiccup finally returned his attention forward, observing the horizon lines. He squinted his eyes, searching for any medium sized dots sitting above the ocean's surface. It must've been Thor's doing, because a wave of relief went through him when he spotted it.

"An island," he started, quietly at first, before leaning forward on the saddle, prompting his dragon to notice this. "An island! Look, bud," he said, pointing towards the very direction the land sat in. Toothless glanced up quickly, seeing his finger before following where it led.

Indeed, there it was. An island sitting in the far distance, waiting for them.

Toothless chirped happily at this, and without warning, he beat his wings harder, putting on a sudden burst of speed. "Whoa!" Hiccup laughed, having been quick to tighten his grip around the saddle.

It looked like they'd be there sooner than they thought.

A couple of minutes getting to the island would have been ten if Toothless hadn't sped up, and it was with this great satisfaction that they were eager to land.

Both Toothless and Hiccup were looking down at the island, their altitude decreasing gradually while figuring out where to land.

"That looks like a good spot, right over there," Hiccup said, gesturing to one of the open centered areas. It was filled mostly with patches of grass, trees surrounding the area leading into a further forest. Much to their surprise, when they had neared, the island was a lot bigger than they anticipated. So, landing close within the edge's range was convenient, in case they had to leave.

Toothless swooped downwards, flaring his wings as he reached for the ground. He kicked out his back legs first before letting his front paws touch the grass, which was swishing away from the whirls of wind delivered by his wings.

Hiccup pulled his feet away from the stirrups, sliding off the saddle and landing lightly on the ground as well. He then gave a glance around their surroundings.

The trees here, as noted before, were particularly taller than usual. The leaves attached to them were an abundance, leaving them to take on the appearance of round shapes atop every one of them. At their roots were fallen leaves, some brown and yellow.

"Alright bud," Hiccup said, taking a few steps forward. "Looks like we're taking a little walk in the forest."

Toothless tilted his head, offering a gurgling sound and nudging the boy's arm. He was quick to begin walking towards the path, with his rider following suit.

Everyone was demanding answers.

The Mead Hall was buzzing with noise, screaming and yelling echoing within the halls.

"Calm down, everyone! There is no need to be in a panic!" Gobber called, waving his arms in a placating gesture. His attempts of quieting the noise was futile, his voice being drowned out easily.

Never had he seen such an angry crowd. He didn't blame them, though. It wasn't everyday someone flew off on the back of a Night Fury. Especially if that person was Stoick the Vast's son, or more specifically, Berk's future chief.

"What are we going to do?!"

"We're doomed!"

"Where is that boy?!"

"Where's the Night Fury?!"

Gobber swallowed, hearing more questions than he could possibly respond to. He sighed, scratching the back of his head and trying to think of something reasonable to say.

"Hey! I'm sure everything is under control, if you all would-"

"Nothing is under control, Gobber!" one of the Vikings interrupted, prompting most of the constant yelling to quiet down, all attention on him now. "That boy is riding a Night Fury!"

"A Night Fury, for crying out loud!" another man interjected, earning nods from others.

"If we don't do something about it, there's no telling what will happen next!"

Gobber frowned at this, cringing a little in the inside. They were right. How to answer them truthfully? He had no idea in the slightest. The only thing he could think of was to turn to Stoick. It was his boy, after all.

Speaking of the chief, the blacksmith glanced back at the table, spotting him.

The chief was leaned over the table, hands flat against it as he skimmed across piles and piles of scrolls and papers, all of which were scattered about. It didn't even look like he was reading any of them, too buried in his thoughts to even hear the commotion going on around him.

Gobber, hesitant at first, headed to his side, looking him over with concern.

"Eh...Stoick?"

Instantly, Stoick turned his head towards his direction, yet did not make eye contact. "What is it, Gobber." His voice was stern. Serious.

Oh, he knew that voice. Gobber knew it very well. It was the kind that was reserved for serious situations, be it dragon raid preparations or town meetings. It was even the kind of tone he had used when Hiccup had almost gotten eaten by a Monstrous Nightmare and had burned half of the village because of a foolish attempt at taking down a dragon.

"...well, the people are waiting, and er…" Gobber started slowly, carefully. "...And they're wondering what's the next move. For, eh. Ya know."

The chief turned his head away, his fists clenching as he exhaled through his nose. Then, he straightened his posture, his gaze landing on the people.

Silence washed over the hall immediately.

It took him a few moments, but he finally spoke.

"I understand."

Gobber blinked, confusion taking him now as he gave the chief a questioning look.

"I understand that you are all scared." Stoick's eyes remained unmoving, still locked with those of his people. "And I am completely aware of what happened out there, in the arena."

The Vikings glanced amongst each other before looking back at the man.

"Hiccup." The name was enough to make him wince. "I don't know what has gotten into him."

A small chatter rose among the crowd, women and men exchanging words of question. Stoick raised his hand, and instantly silence reigned again.

"Out of all of the irresponsible things he has ever done, this has to be the top." He paused, his next few words wavering. "Though it is not to say that he is completely guilty of this."

"And how can you say that?" a new voice questioned. All eyes turned to the source.

Spitelout.

"What chance does that boy have," Spitelout said, jabbing a finger in the air, "that none of this is his fault."

Both men had their gazes interlocked. There was a delay, but it was barely noticeable. The air was thicker, denser than before; a lingering hue. Everyone glanced between the two of them, the tension of challenging the chief arising.

"The Night Fury."

There was a drawback in the crowd. It was once again that the noise resumed.

"No Viking has ever seen a Night Fury. We have never captured it." Stoick turned his gaze towards the people now, brows furrowed. "Until today. It tore its way into the arena and look what happened to my son."

No one spoke.

Stoick's fists clenched. His hands slowly found themselves back against the flat of the table, on top of the map. As he did this, he refused to look away from the crowd.

"The dragon took him. It did something to him - Thor knows what it did to him."

On either side of the mead hall, the fires flickered slowly. They appeared dull, dots of ash slithering from the flames. Its crackling was all that could be heard in the sudden silence.

"And it is my duty as his father to keep him safe. I will bring him back home, no matter what it takes."

Spitelout's eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward, causing everyone to glance at him again.

"And how exactly do you propose that, Stoick?" he questioned, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. "Are you suggesting we join in on this so-called mad hunt? Risk our lives for-"

"That's enough, Spitelout…" Gobber cut in, throwing him a stern look. He was doing him a favor by telling him to seize his words. Spitelout spat an annoyed growl, drawing back and crossing his arms.

"Only real Vikings will risk their lives in any situation, Spitelout." Stoick's hand, which was still placed against the table, inched towards the right. At that spot was a knife, and his fingers slid underneath the handle. Gripping it, he raised it slightly, its point aiming down towards the map.

"Which is why I ask the willing to help me find Hiccup. We will sail out tomorrow." Stoick's grip on the dagger tightened, and he let out a strained breath. It was with a swift act of motion that he brought down the weapon, the tip slicing into the center of the 'X' on the map.

"We will bring Hiccup back to Berk. And we shall kill the devil once and for all."