Freedom in its Richest Form

The Raid (2)

"AAAAH!" Colors quickly spin into focus, and I become acutely aware of a hard surface and a throbbing in my side. So. I had a nightmare, and now I'm laying on the floor. That's nice. Actually, it's kinda warm in here-

BOOM

Oh. Dragon raid. That explains a lot. Wait... DRAGON RAID! Oh my gosh, I have to get to the forge! If a dragon doesn't kill me, Gobber sure will. He's lost half his limbs and is one of the fiercest Vikings Berk has ever seen, yet he's shown me more love than my father ever has, but that won't save me any grace.

After quickly pulling on my shoes, I swing open the door and quickly roll out of the path of a monstrous nightmare's flame. As soon as I'm clear, I take off towards the edge of the cliff where the smithy is. The shadows of the village houses provide the perfect cover, and my presence remains undetected.

It's pretty dark right now, maybe an hour before first light. So far, I've seen several deadly nadders, gronkles, hideous zipplebacks, and a monstrous nightmare. Soon, my target comes into view, my mentor along with it.

"Hiccup! Get in here," he shouts over the surrounding roars. With a final jump, I slide over the counter into the metal shop, only for the end of my fur vest to catch on a loose splinter of the rough wood. It yanks me back, eliciting an undignified yelp. Frustrated with the cumbersome article of clothing, I yank it off and replace it with the apron Gobber tosses me. "Thanks."

"Oh, come on, lad, can't keep fallin' like that during a dragon raid."

"Well, technically, I didn't really fa-," I'm cut off by an explosion a few mere meters away, destroyed by a zippleback.

"No time now, Hiccup. They need me out there."

"Oh, come on. Just let me out, I'll kill a dragon, and my life will get infinitely better," I respond while Gobber attaches an axe to his interchangeable prosthetic arm.

"Laddie, we both know why that is not a good idea. Mostly for the fact that your father would kill us both, assuming you survive. Man the fort; I'll be back. Stay... Put... There...you know what I mean. HYAAAAAA!" And with a battle cry, Gobber jumps out the vending window and into the fray of battle.

Jealousy leaks into my heart, watching the fire brigade attend to the burning building closest to me, then again when I look to where Gobber disappeared. One day, I will make my mark.

For now, however, I'm sticking to blacksmithing. There is a whole pile of broken and dulled weapons from the fighting vikings that needs to return to battle if we want even a portion of what we had before the raid.

The first sword I take is so dull it could be used as a spoon. Sparks fly off the grinding wheel as I run the sword gently over it with practiced movements. However, I'm startled out of my focus by a flash of light and a sound as concussive as thunder.

Night fury.

Said to be the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. No one has ever seen this dragon and lived to tell the tale, but there are legends and myths surrounding this beast that go back to the dawn of time.

Right now, everyone is panicking. The presence of this dragon marks a loss far greater than what we would have to deal with otherwise. However, the chaos also means I can escape without anyone really questioning me.

I grab my vest and a machine of my own devising and roll it through the crowd, trying to make it to the top of the hill I'm near. It only takes a few seconds to load, and my machine reveals itself to be a bola launcher; far more accurate than the hand-thrown bolas everyone else uses...theoretically.

"C'mon, gimme something to shoot at. Gimme something to shoot at," I mumble to myself, searching for a target. Soon enough, a dark figure crosses the sky, blacking out the stars behind its inky form. Okay, one shot at this.

Aim...steady...steady...FIRE!

The bola rips through the sky, hurtling dangerously toward its target. A loud SCREECH breaks the stillness that has surrounded me, and the figure in the sky falls. Raven's Point, I note. Gotta search there.

But right now, I have slightly more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, a huge, red monstrous nightmare that has set its sights on me. Running down the hill, I'm sure my scream can be heard on the other side of the island.

I hide behind a wooden pillar; one of the many holding fires that light up the town. My eyes are closed, as if that would make it better when this dragon kills me, and There is an intense heat behind me. Slowly creeping around the pole, I look to see if the red dragon is still there. It's not. Oh, what a rele-

There's a growl. There is a dragon growling behind me. Oh, gosh, I'm gonna die. I slowly turn to face the beast, knowing that I cannot run. However, its actions are nothing like what I expect.

Instead of incinerating me instantly, it sniffs me. Being paralyzed by fear and all, there's nothing I can really do other than watch as something that seems like mild disdain, followed by confusion, of all things, flashes across its draconian features. It retracts its head and looks to the side before roaring and taking off once more.

So now I'm not even worthy to be killed in a dragon's eyes. Fan-freaking-tastic.

My dad comes barreling toward where the dragon just was, hammer at the ready. After it's clear that the dragon is not returning, he turns his murderous gaze upon me. The fire tower behind me crashes to the ground, only fueling the rage in my father's eyes.

After what seems to be an eternity, he speaks. "What are you doing here?" His voice holds an edge, a despising tone, that only services to bring melancholy and guilt into my heart.

"Okay, Dad, I know it looks bad, but I hit a night fury," I say, hoping to possibly alleviate the loathing emotions directed toward me.

"Hiccup, just stop. Every time you step outside, disaster follows! Just...just get to the house," he says, before turning to Gobber. "Make sure he gets there."

"Yessir. C'mon, laddie," the one-armed viking replies.

Better length? Please let me know what you think about this or any changes I should make. Did I miss any spelling or grammar?