This is a revision of my very first HTTYD fanfics. This story is basically my baby and something I'm very proud of because it was one of the first long, multi-chapter stories I ever actually finished as a writer. I've been wanting to rewrite it and make it even better for a few years. Some of you may have read it and already know that it is much darker and serious in tone than I normally go with my fics, and I intend to delve even deeper this time around. I want to explore Hiccup's feelings as he deals with his father's death and his sudden responsibility to be not only a chief to his people, but an example of leadership and loyalty all while honoring Stoick's legacy.

I've only just started this revision, so I'll be treating it like any other story and post the chapters as I complete them.

Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy!

Prologue

The sea heaved.

Dark, thunderous clouds mocked the tiny boat it tossed between its waves.

Aboard the vessel, a solitary soul waged a useless battle for control. He, the youngest, the smallest, and sadly the one person who could be spared for the journey, had undertaken the most urgent of errands: to seek the aid of a legendary warrior in a foreign place. Now, many lonely and frightening days later, the young man was weak and sick and ultimately facing the cruel crush of despair and failure.

The fate of his home and kinsmen, his entire world, was heavy on his heart. If he surrendered to the angered waters, not only would he perish, but all he'd left behind, all he knew and loved would quickly follow.

Though he'd made it this far—so much farther than he'd ever hoped—it was to end like this. Why? Why had the gods led him here only to abandon him to the merciless elements when he was so close?

The storm was the last of many a struggle, and no matter how many prayers he uttered or oaths he swore, a safe journey's end was not to be. The wrath of the seas combined to form a massive wave and he knew it was meant for him. He screamed a final plea, but the ears of Asgard were closed. The youth was swept over the side, his craft dashed to splinters.

…

On an island not far from where the sailor faced impossible odds, another young man tossed violently in his sleep. On this night, like too many others, he was a captive of his own mind, haunted by pain and memory and immeasurable guilt. The sturdy walls of his wooden home protected him from the storm outside, but did nothing to weaken the assault of the more dangerous tempest within his dreams. There, he was alone, forced to battle himself without the aid or comfort of friends and loved ones, without any hope of escape save for a bitter awakening.

Night after night, he waged this inner war. He heard the voice shouting his name, was blinded by the burst of purplish light, and when the smoke finally settled, saw the features of his truest friend. A friend who had been unwillingly twisted and turned against him by the hands of evil.

Night after night, he awoke to the sound of his own screams, drenched in sweat and tangled in bedcovers.

Night after night, he knew there was no one to blame but himself.