Freedom in its Richest Form

Raven's Point (3)

The walk to the house goes on in silence, save for the relentless taunting of my so-called peers. I used to have a crush on Astrid, a fierce shield maiden, but that soon fell away after the countless times she ignored me and occasionally even joined in taunting me.

The house isn't too far away, and the trek is brief. When we reach the front door, Gobber speaks up. "Ya do know he loves ya, right?"

I pause in opening the door. "I guess, but it's hard to believe that when he looks like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich every single time he so much as glances at me. Killing a dragon would change that instantly."

Gobber sighs, "I know, Hiccup. Just stop trying so hard to be something you're not."

"I just wanna be one of you guys." The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I head up the wooden stairs to my room.

Okay, there's a night fury on this island, and I have to find it if I ever want any kind of standing here.

I grab my notebook, charcoal pencil, and dagger and head back out into the frigid air. Sometimes living on the edge of the forest has its advantages, one of which being the ability to escape the house completely undetected.

* * * * * * *

I have been searching Raven's point for hours. By this point, it's around nine. The dragon fell towards Raven's point when I shot it, but I should have at least found where it landed by now. 

"This is unbelievable. Some people lose their knife or their mug, and I manage to lose an entire dragon!?" I slap away a small tree branch that's in my way, but it whips right back into my face. I guess the tree is having a bad day, too.

Looking up at the source of my present pain, it seems the tree was definitely having a bad day. Splinters and fresh crevices trail up a couple meters where the entire tree has been torn down, feeding into a deep gash in the earth. That has to be it.

It seems to end at a small rise in the ground. My steps are light and tremulous approaching the rise. However, at my first glance past it, I immediately drop to the ground behind it and carefully peer over the edge. There is a massive, black form lying motionless in the dirt.

I-is it... Did I... "Oh, this changes everything!" I say, approaching the dragon and placing my foot on its side. "Yes! I have brought down this mighty beast!" Suddenly, it shrugs off my foot and starts breathing deeply. The movement is the furthest thing from what I was expecting, and I stumble backwards and fall to the ground.

This is the first time I've actually examined the creature before me. It's actually kinda...small. Four strong legs indicate that it's a quadrupedal animal, and the mere presence of the secondary and tertiary fins prove that it was designed for high-speed acrobatics. Finally, its streamlined face and small form must make it the fastest dragon in the archipelago, if not the world.

And I caught it.

After regaining confidence in the bola that ensnares the night fury, I slowly approach the dragon once more. If I ever want to be considered a Viking, I have to do this. Its acid-green gaze practically drills into my soul when I speak.

"I'm gonna kill you, Dragon. I'ma cut out your heart and take it to my father. I am a Viking. I am a Viking!" My claims do nothing to calm the feeling of uneasiness slowly overtaking me.

The dagger is high over my head, ready to plunge into the scaly side. I have to do this. I can't take anything more from the village...my father, most of all. Killing this beast would make me famous.

Dad would actually be proud of me, the other teens would stop bullying me, and the townsfolk might actually talk to me with something other than sheer, undisguised disdain. That would be a dream come true.

But...is this really worth all that? I mean, yeah, they've killed countless people through the generations, but it goes both ways. I don't know, anymore. This just feels so...wrong.

There's something in those eyes. He's terrified. There is nothing in them that indicates the remorseless, sadistic monster we have been taught they are since birth. There, in his eyes, I see myself.

No. I can't kill him. I won't. The dagger falls to my side, and I turn to walk away, but I can't. If he stays here, he will still die, so I do the most stupid think any Viking has ever done.

I cut him loose. The moment the metal blade tears through the final constricting rope, he moves. It's too fast for me to grasp what is happening before my shoulders are pinned to a large boulder and intense, reptilian eyes are level with mine, and a small part of me notes that I have officially lost count of how many times I've thought I would die today.

His fierce eyes bore into my soul, and I can only imagine why he hasn't killed me, but I can't bring myself to look away, like I'm enraptured by some calamitous fascination.

The only thing audible over the blood pounding through my ears is my captor's heavy breathing. However, that intimidating stare shifts into one of utter perplexity and even a suspicious curiosity. He backs away slowly, allowing me to stand up just as hesitantly.

The black dragon circles me with a critical gaze before sitting down right in front of me. By now, I'm far more confounded than fearful of the mysterious night fury.

Following his example, I sit as well. This is probably the strangest thing I have ever done. There's no telling what any of the other Vikings might do if they see me.

The dragon's still staring at me, and I can't help but feel like he's waiting for me to do something. "Uhh... Hi," I say uncertainly. His ears perk up, and he tilts his head to the side. Like this, he seems almost...cute.

Okay, next chapter's where stuff really starts to happen.