Our Curse (Remake)

Prologue

This is Berk

From beyond the dark, enormous ocean, on which crashed just as same tremendous, strong waves, rose up an island, with sharp, rock corners, and greenish grass, shrouded in a thin fog, at which center grew up the massive mountain. At its surface seeable were houses, made out of wood, stone, and ornamental coating as well as illustrations; each one outstanding for its look, however, also unprecedented, surprising freshness and newness.

On the dirt roads, lit up by the bright sun, in between alleys having their place in between the various buildings, emerged people, each wearing something as warm as the furs were, nearly everyone maintaining some metal weaponry with themselves. Amongst the adults and elders, running were the kids, with miniature versions of weapons, matching the ones upheld by their parents, screaming at the top of their lungs, while their voices were drowned out by the shouting of grown-ups themselves.

In the midst of the inhabited homes, had their place a lot of facilities, which were designed to serve villagers, such as a forge, enclosed by various metal tools, a market, surrounded by stalls that were filled with miscellaneous foods, and even docks, the ideal for fishing, either taking a boat for the ride. Even for their rather large amount, neither one soul could've been found in there, while most of the island's habitats gathered by the stone opening, having its spot on the very outskirts of the village.

The arena, which that place was, was enveloped by the sounds of the striking chains, which were overlapping its top, crowds' yelling - their laughing, and screaming - but also roars, bloodcurdling, terrifying roars, to which they nohow reacted, being the Vikings they were. Everyone's eyes, those who were just beyond the edge, dividing the chain wall and the decline, leading to the immense, gravel opening, were fixed on the impenetrable insides, observing the situation occurring there.

The place that I would call my home, if it ever was it

Amid them, stood out one certain figure, belonging to the man, as tall as the statue, as hard as the one was, the posture of Viking, not one of the men would be envious of, wearing the helmet possessing the curled horns, the greatest from the everybody's present. Knitting his reddish brown brows at the front, he crossed his broad arms, hardening his expression, not even flinching when before his eyes appeared the beast, containing a pair of humongous wings and fang-full jaw, which view didn't move him.

The creature was a dragon, coated by light blue and yellow scales, glaring with its yellow eyes at everybody present, standing straight on its two, legs that end with sharp claws, extending widely its wings to demonstrate its dominance, which in the case of being surrounded by the dozens of attackers, didn't exist. At each sound made, at each racket, shout, exclamation, the spikes, having their spot on the mentioned animal's tail, would raise, causing it to be permanently in the ready; some of them the dragon would send at the people, each time missing by an inch.

At some point, its eyes traveled to the right, and just the same, did the eyes of the man, who could now drill his eyes into the woman taking the stand there, in one of her hands holding a sword, while the other rigidly clung on the wooden, painted shield. She didn't have the looks of a typical Viking, bearing an abnormally thin silhouette and laughable height, although she didn't mind the comments about it made behind her back, currently taking strands of her auburn bangs off her face, brushing it away with the side of her hand, while the dark green color of her eyes locked at the creature closed in the arena with her.

Eventually, one of the criticisms was loud enough, that it got to her ears, and ornery enough, that she must have scowled at the speaking out man, barking something in his direction, making the mistake of taking attention from the dragon. Watching that man, whose scarlet beard appeared to tangle under his touch, clenched his jaw as he scratched his chin in between the thicket of the hair, shaking his head disappointed, hoping the woman would glimpse it with the side of her eye, at least.