Chapter 10 – The Village of Lunatics and Dragons
If you were looking for the worst possible place to live, Berk would proudly sit at the top of your list… that is, if you're completely insane.
Berk is a Viking village carved into the edge of the world. It's constantly battered by storms that sound like angry gods arguing in the sky. Jagged rocks poke through the earth like the teeth of some ancient beast, and its people… well, they'd rather fight than breathe.
And of course, there are dragons.
Yes. Real dragons.
Every week, a new hole in someone's roof. Every month, one less barn. Every day? Fire. Lots and lots of fire.
My name is Hiccup. I'm the son of Stoick the Vast, the chief of this lovely madness we call a village. My older brother is Thor, blessed by Odin himself. Our family is full of warriors, legends in muscle and battle cries.
There's only one problem: I'm… different.
While everyone else carries an axe, I carry tools. While they hunt dragons, I try to understand them. While they charge into battle roaring like thunder, I stand back… wondering why no one's asking why the dragons are attacking.
In other words, I'm just Hiccup.
As fire lights up the night sky and villagers scream in panic, I dash through the streets, hearing someone yell from a rooftop, "Hiccup! Get back inside, you're going to die out here!"
Another voice follows, "Someone tell Stoick or Thor! Hiccup's out again!"
Then — boom. A thunderclap tears the sky apart, and in a flash of light, a figure crashes down in front of me.
It's Thor.
He lands like lightning given form, sparks still dancing around his arms. His gaze sharpens the moment he sees me.
"Hiccup," he says firmly. "This is dangerous. Go home."
I take a breath, trying to sound braver than I feel. "Just wait, brother. I'm going to kill a dragon. I'll be back soon!"
Without giving him a chance to respond, I bolt into the night.
Thor watches me go with a frown, then turns back toward the chaos. The villagers need help.
He charges forward, lightning surging around his fists as he punches a dragon out of the air. The impact echoes like thunder. Another dragon swoops down, only to be slammed into the ground by a bolt of raw electricity.
Astrid arrives beside him, spinning and hurling her axe with deadly precision. It lodges in a dragon's jaw, forcing it to retreat.
"What happened?" she asks, breathing heavily.
"Hiccup," Thor mutters. "He doesn't understand. He wasn't born to kill dragons."
Astrid pauses, eyes on the horizon where Hiccup vanished. "He just wants to be like you," she says softly.
Thor looks down, momentarily silent, his heart caught between pride and fear.
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Elsewhere, I reach the forge, slipping in through the back door where Gobber — the village blacksmith — is busy reinforcing a weapon.
Gobber looks up, surprised. "Hiccup? What are you doing here? You should be hiding!"
"I want to kill a dragon," I say quickly. "It's in my Viking blood!"
Gobber raises a brow, glancing over my thin frame. "With that body? Lad, a dragon wouldn't even bother chewing."
Before I can argue, villagers rush into the forge, shouting for help. Gobber grabs his axe and joins the fray, tossing a look over his shoulder. "Don't leave this forge, Hiccup!"
Of course… I leave.
I grab my secret invention — a launching device I've spent months building in secret — and sneak out into the darkness.
Climbing onto a nearby hill, I scan the skies. Then I see it.
A blur. Fast. Silent. A black shadow gliding through the smoke and flame.
A Night Fury.
The rarest, most feared dragon of them all.
I take aim. My hands shake. My heart hammers. I fire.
A sharp hiss — and then a loud crash in the distance.
I hit it.
I actually hit it.
Somewhere deep in the forest, the Night Fury has fallen.
I stand frozen, unable to believe what I've just done. My life just changed… forever.
---
Back in the village, Thor feels a pulse in the air. He turns toward the forest, eyes narrowing.
He knows.
He knows what just happened.
"So… my little brother has met the Night Fury," he says quietly. "Then I no longer need to hold back."
Raising his arms to the heavens, Thor summons the full power of the storm. Thunderclouds swirl above Berk like a living thing, trembling with fury. Bolts of lightning tear across the sky as if the gods themselves were roaring.
With a powerful gesture, Thor slams his fist downward — and the sky answers.
Lightning rains down in waves, scattering dragons in all directions. Screeches fill the air as wings beat frantically against the wind.
The attack is over.
The dragons retreat into the night.
Thor watches them disappear, his face calm but his thoughts racing.
The story has finally begun, he thinks.
And far beyond the village, alone in the woods, I stand above the fallen form of a dragon that was supposed to be unstoppable… and I have no idea what to do next.
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