HTTYD: Dragon Girl

Chapter 1: Skaldi

Somewhere just north of freezing and south of frostbite is a place called Skaldi. It's been the home of a certain tribe for more than nine generations. In a word, sturdy, like the people who live here. It's not so bad, I suppose, if you don't mind the pests. Other places have bugs or birds.

We have dragons.

Most people might leave. Not us. We're Vikings. Giving up isn't in our nature.

My name's Astrid. Well, kind of. I have a funny story. See, I arrived in Skaldi when I was ten years old, with no memories at all except for one name-- Astrid. Even though I knew that name didn't belong to me, I took it.

I'm never among the Vikings who go out and kill dragons. I'm small, clumsy when wielding weapons despite making them expertly. I, of all people, should want to kill dragons more than anyone. I was found in the woods five years ago, at the mercy of a dragon that had presumably killed my parents and was planning to do the same to me. Why shouldn't I feel the need to get revenge?

Tonight's my chance, I think as I run through the burning village during one of the nightly raids. Tonight, I'll finally kill a dragon and prove I belong.

But before I can get to the workshop, to my secret weapon, I'm caught by the last person on Midgard I want to see-- Keegan.

Keegan's father is Chief Enger, the fiercest dragon killer alive. Keegan really seems to take after him, or wants to, at least. All I've ever wanted was for Keegan to accept me, because then everyone else would, too. But he's hated me ever since I showed up here, providing no explanation as to why. Naturally, that makes him hard for me to stand.

"What are you doing out here?" he demands, a bucket of water swinging from each of his hands. "Shouldn't you be at the forges, repairing weapons?"

"That's where I was just headed," I say. "What, did you think I was just hanging out in the middle of all the burning chaos? Having an enjoyable time watching all of you work your tails off?"

Keegan scowls. "Well, get there quick," he snaps, shoving past me. "Unferth needs someone to stoke the fire."

I glare after the back of his blond head. I don't care if he is the son of the chief and the most promising as a dragon killer this generation, not to mention the most popular kid, does he have to be such a jerk?

It takes me just a little while longer to get to the forges. As always, Unferth is waiting.

"Nice of you to join the party!" he teases as I hurry into the workshop. "I thought you'd already been carried off!"

"Who, me?" I say innocently. "No, I'm way too muscle-y for their tastes. They wouldn't know what to do with all... this." I flex my arms, showing off muscles that really aren't there.

"Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?" Unferth pokes back. I've been his ward ever since I got here, and we have this running joke about my size.

I'm not really that tiny, but compared to the rest of the kids around here, I'm a real runt. At fifteen, I'm five-foot-two, and I've developed some curves, though not the extremely womanly kind you see on the other Viking women. I'm skinny, with pretty scrawny limbs, considering what I do for work here.

I am strong, though. Enough to lift a mace, if not wield it.

And lifting is all I need to do, as Unferth so graciously demonstrates, tossing a squashed hammer into my arms. "Mend. Quickly."

I huff as I carry the hammer toward the bellows. One of these days, I'll get out there. Because killing a dragon is how you earn your place here in Skaldi.

I first have to choose a victim. A Spiny Scorpion, with their tails that can shoot deadly spikes at their prey from long distances, would show that I at least have potential. Norkons, big, knobbly beasts like boulders, are tough. Killing one of those would definitely remove the title of "Useless" from my name. Hydras have two heads and twice as much power. And then there's the Flaming Drakon. Only the most experienced Vikings go after them, because they for some reason enjoy setting themselves on fire.

But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one's ever caught. We call it the--

"White Creeper!" someone yells just as a purple blast makes one of the enormous torches tremble with its power.

I dart to the window. Sure enough, there's that elusive white shadow, streaking across the night sky.

I have a special reason to hunt the White Creeper. It's the very same dragon that carried me into the woods and tried to devour me. The earliest memory I have is of it standing above me, staring into my eyes with a petrifying glare.

No one has ever killed a White Creeper. That's why I'm going to be the first.

Something catches me by the back of my tunic, and I yelp as Unferth drags me away from the window.

"Aw, come on, Unferth," I whine. "Five minutes, please! I'll kill a dragon, my life will get infinitely better--"

"Sure, sure," Unferth says. "And just how do you plan to do that? You can't swing a sword, you can't hold a mace, you can't even throw a net!"

"I know, I know," I say. "But this will!" I step aside to show him my cannon, which fires randomly and shoots a rock at someone's head.

Unferth's expression hardens. "Listen, Astrid," he says. "I don't know where you get these crazy designs of yours, but this needs to stop, now."

"I can fix this in two minutes!" I protest.

"No!" Unferth shouts. "My job is to keep you safe! If you want to kill dragons, you have to stop all... this." He waves his hands vaguely at me.

"You just gestured to all of me!" I say.

"Exactly!" Unferth says, poking me in the chest. "Stop being all of you!"

"But--" I start, but Unferth stops me.

"They need me out there," he says, peering out at the flaming chaos. "Stay put." With one last glare at me, he runs screaming into the fight.

One minute later, I'm running like mad across the battlefield, my wheeled cannon in tow. Seriously, does Unferth really think I'll listen when he says stay put?

When I find a good, quiet clearing, away from the fire and shouting, I set up my weapon. Pressing my eye to the scope, I sit and wait.

There! The white shadow! I aim quickly and fire a net into the black void above.

An inhuman scream answers my anxious, unspoken question. A pale shape falls against the stars.

I can hardly believe what's just happened. I hit it. I've avenged my parents and my memory by bringing the White Creeper down. I'll be a hero in Skaldi for sure!

Or that's what I think, until I notice the Flaming Drakon standing behind me.