NOTE: I'm BACK!

Sorry for that long wait, but I finally found a story subject I'd like to pursue.

Yet again, I'm going to avoid lemons, and stay on the subject of developing character instead.

Apologies about the terribly short description, but there's not much I can say without spoiling this chapter :)

Please leave a review, and let me know if this is better/worse than my Steve and Vanish story.

Enjoy!

Snowflakes. Intricate, heavenly shards of ice that fall from the grey clouds above. Weightless and worth nothing on their own, yet they can determine life or death of an entire village in mass quantities. They can suffocate, they can freeze, they can bury, the list goes on.

Because of this, our ancestors naturally assumed that the flakes of frost were of divine origin. Sort of like a beautiful curse sent to punish us for disobeying the gods. With time, the assumption became common knowledge, and for the longest time we believed that snowflakes were created by our gods and goddesses. Until we mastered the art of dragon taming. If you can call an oaf throwing fish at a creature until it becomes friends with him mastery, that is.

This sudden breakthrough in companionship and utilities brought forth what I like to call a "Mini-Renaissance", or a "Minaissance" for short. People, with the assistance of loyal dragons, were now able to build faster, harvest quicker, travel faster, and go higher. So naturally, eventually someone was going to take a close look at those clouds during a snowstorm...

The day we discovered that snow wasn't of Odin's creation was very... chaotic, to say the least. Arguments and confusion were filling the streets for a solid three days, and each passing moon brought more heated debates to the table. Many families of faith, upon learning of the true origin of the snow, either fell into a form of depression, or challenged those that discovered it.

Or rather, the person who discovered it. Meaning me. Hiccup.

If you ever want to start a frustratingly meaningless debate, tell someone that their beliefs are incorrect. Because based on my experience, they'll have more fire to spit than a Monstrous Nightmare. Especially if they really do have incorrect beliefs.

I thought that by becoming the village's new leader, I wouldn't have to worry about petty issues anymore. Not only was I incorrect, but the petty issues became even more petty, and they somehow became important. The dream of commanding a group of strong, smiling citizens to do your wishes without countless questions is a lie. I think the only reason why it's perpetuated is to bait unsuspecting youths into pursuing the title. And the longer I lead these people, the more firmly I believe that. If I could ever go back in time, I'd tell my father how sorry I was for telling him that his job was easy.

I've been the clan's leader for the last 6 months, starting from the day that Stoick died during the Great Battle. While I never truly accepted his death, I've learned to cope with it. Actually, I think I took it the best out of every other person in my village. Probably because they were so reliant on his thundering orders, and they now had to obey a twig with a nasally voice.

My mother, despite many requests to do so, denied all chances at achieving any form of authority, other than just being the mother of clan's leader. As of now, she just resides in a cozy cottage a short distance from my quarters, and trains the dragon hatchlings. She states it's because years of guiding hundreds of dragons was enough leadership for her. We all know it's because that her reassuming power would remind her too much of being with Stoick.

Astrid, our new second-in-command, has not only further proven herself to be a robust individual, but she has also continued to be my fiancé. While we have both openly told each other that neither of us were interested in marriage just yet, we both agreed that we had quite the bond, and eagerly awaited our future together.

And Toothless, my best friend and companion, has been going strong and has remained the Alpha of all of the dragons. Together we have grown more resilient and influential over the village, as well as neighboring clans and dens. He has stood by my side, real tail on one side, and mechanical tail on the other. He's actually learned how to fly without my assistance, although quite crudely, and he only does so whenever it is a necessity.

Perhaps one of the only times he had to do so was when I alerted the village of the snowflake dilemma.

After the initial panic, I had to send him off to get Astrid home earlier from her expedition for more fishing pools. There was a noticeable lack of aquatic life, likely due to the tamed dragons, so we had to find a new lake to cast our nets into. I felt rather bad for Toothless, watching him stumble his way into flight, while I dealt with the furious people before me.

The couple hours it took them to return felt like several moonlights, thanks to the tremendous stress I was under, trying to answer every one of the rapid-fire questions being screeched at me. I consider it to be among the worst mistakes of my life telling them of my discovery about the frost.

I resisted the urge to yell "Where have you been?" at the trio when they landed mere feet away from me. I practically knocked out some bystanders trying to push my way through the crowd to get to my saviors.

"Astrid, thank Odin," I wheezed through exhausted breaths, "You have no idea how—"

"Hiccup, as much as I would like to break up this little riot, we've got bigger problems on our hands."

I just stood there, confused as to what she could possibly mean by that. The citizens behind me had suddenly lost their volume, awaiting what she had to say.

"What? Are we under another attack?"

"No, not at all. But we found something. Something huge." Her eyes widened at that last bit.

"A new species?"

"We found this. In some sort of decked out cavern."

She held out a dainty, yet rugged book no bigger than a cantaloupe. The cover was of sheep skin, although it was dyed black with some sort of tar. Etched into the front was a depiction of a dragon head, similar to a Monstrous Nightmare. As I held it in my hands, I didn't see any reason for it to be threatening.

The thought must have been visible on my face.

"Look inside of it."

I carefully turned the leather over to reveal the first page.

And I nearly dropped the book after I saw what stared right back at me.

It was a fairly detailed sketch of a Night Fury, similar in nature to Toothless, but not exactly. Measurements surrounded the drawing, depicting height, length, width, weight, and even smaller details such as the circumference of the head spines. It stated that it was female, and juvenile. Apparently troublesome and mischievous, but very protective of those that she was acquainted with.

And very clearly below it, inscribed in bold letters, were the words:

Subject #037 (a.k.a. Eclipse)

First Successful Domestication