Dragonborn

Flashback

Eight Years Ago

Dragon Island, Hidden Room

Hiccup's POV

Searing heat ... thundering pain ... that's what initially came to my mind as I struggled to regain consciousness. The looming tail of the Red Death falling through the sky, Toothless and I unable to get away. The memories flooded in my otherwise blank mind. The massive tail bludgeon slammed into us, knocking me clean out of the saddle. My head grew worse as I fell ... I could see Toothless roaring in a blind panic as he saw me fall. I could feel the inferno underneath rise up to meet me, seeking to add another life to its deadly blaze. The last thing I saw was Toothless flapping as hard as he could to reach me, as the fiery storm engulfed us. All I could think of before I lost consciousness was that now the dragons were free ... and wishing with all my heart that I could've seen Astrid again ...

... one last time ...

Once the memories shut down I snapped awake, sitting up with a start. That was a bad idea, as the pain in my gut punched its way into feeling. Seeing no vengeful flames or mountainous rubble, I laid back down, clutching the pain and pulling the warm, fur blanket closer.

'Wait ... blanket? Wasn't I falling?'

Due to the tremendous throbbing in my head, I couldn't think straight initially, my head struggling to piece together what happened. I sat up again, much more slowly this time, and took a look at my surroundings.

I was lying down on a bed made of many furs and skins, stacked and placed carefully so that no pressure would be put on my body. Now that I was sitting up, my feeling began to return. All my muscles were aching and groaning, making me slowly roll and rub them to loosen them. The room was of a strange design, it looked like the inside of a mountain. Rocky walls rose up from the cool floor, rounding and curving till it reached the ceiling, a few stalactites dropping down in the corners of the room. Books were scattered all around, either on the floors or lying atop the few tables and cabinets I could see. Filling one side of the room was a platform, weird symbols and a strange circle etched into the stone. A roaring fireplace stood near me lit already by a strangely coloured blue flame, no smoke rising up from the blaze.

Before I could look around any further, I felt something wrong with my body. I could feel the scars, the burns, the gashes I picked up when we danced with death, but this felt stranger. It wasn't as if something was there that shouldn't have been ... in fact quite the opposite. I couldn't feel something that I should've been able to. My feeling began getting better and better ...

'It's in my lower body ... it's in my legs ... it's one of my legs ... it's the left leg ...'

I slowly pulled the blankets off and looked at my left leg, or rather, where my leg should've been. Instead of a foot and a long limb, there was just a slightly burnt, red, terribly scarred stump, cut off halfway between the patella and the ankle. A hand carved wooden prosthetic is placed at the end of the stump, bandages and some sort of contraption hold it in place without harming the leg. My eyes widened in realization.

"It's gone ... my leg is gone ..." I said hoarsely.

'How did I not notice?' I thought ludicrously. 'Better question, how did I lose my leg?'

"Good, you're awake," came a voice behind me, strong and steady.

I spun around to find a man clothed in black, long jet-black hair reaching his hips, sitting in a chair angled at me. Scars scattered his entire body ... all that was visible anyway. In particular was a silver scar cutting through his right eye, said eye and its brother watching me curiously. Two sets of twin swords lay on either side of him.