Eternal flame

Chapter 1

Hiccup's POV

I was walking in the forest, listening to the wind rustle through the trees, when it happened. Toothless was a few paces ahead of me, sniffing at the ground, occasionally glancing back to make sure I was still keeping up. It was quiet—almost too quiet. The kind of silence that should’ve set off alarms in my head, but I’d been distracted, my mind somewhere else.

The forest had been peaceful, the sunlight dappling the ground through the canopy of leaves, and for a moment, everything seemed perfect. Then there was a sharp sting, like a bee had bitten into the side of my neck.

I stopped, confused, my hand instinctively reaching up to the spot where the pain flared. My fingers closed around something small and thin—a dart. I stared at it, not quite processing what I was holding.

“What the—”

Before I could even finish the thought, the world began to tilt. My vision blurred at the edges, and my legs wobbled beneath me like they were made of water. I tried to call out to Toothless, who had paused up ahead and was now watching me with a worried expression, but my tongue felt thick and useless.

“Run…” I whispered, though the word barely made it past my lips.

I staggered forward, but the forest floor rushed up to meet me before I could take another step. The tranquilizer was working fast—too fast. Toothless growled, his ears pinning back, and I could hear the soft thudding of footsteps approaching, too many to count.

The last thing I saw was a group of figures emerging from the trees, closing in on me. Toothless roared, but I couldn’t even turn my head to see what was happening. Darkness clawed at my vision, and I felt the world slip away, leaving nothing but the cold, hard ground beneath me.

Then, everything went black.

I came back to consciousness slowly, the haze of the tranquilizer lifting bit by bit. My head throbbed, and the cold, hard ground beneath me felt unfamiliar and rough. I struggled to open my eyes, the effort feeling monumental. When I finally managed to focus, the scene before me was bleak: I was in a small stone cell, dimly lit by a single flickering torch. Shadows danced on the walls, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

My limbs were restrained, chains biting into my wrists and ankles, making movement nearly impossible. The shackle’s weight and coldness made me shiver despite the warmth of the torchlight.

As I shifted, trying to get a better view of my surroundings, the cell door creaked open. My heart raced with both fear and frustration. The first thing I noticed was the man who stepped inside. He was imposing, his presence filling the room with an almost palpable darkness.

At 6'5", I was used to being among the taller ones, but this man’s sheer presence was overwhelming. His dark, tattered robes seemed to absorb the light, casting him in an eerie shadow. His face was partially hidden by a hood, but his eyes gleamed like shards of steel—cold, unfeeling, and unsettling.

In his hand, he carried a syringe filled with a thick, purple liquid that swirled ominously. The sight of it made a cold chill run down my spine. My pulse quickened as I watched him approach.

"Good to see you're awake," he said, his voice smooth and unnervingly calm. "I was beginning to worry the tranquilizer had worked too well."

I tried to speak, but my throat felt dry and raw. “What… what is that?”

The man’s lips curled into a thin, unsettling smile. “A little something to help you adjust. We need to make sure you’re ready for the games.”

His words sent a jolt of fear through me. The man’s presence was intimidating, and the mention of “games” only deepened my dread. My mind raced, trying to piece together the situation, but the chains and the cold reality of my confinement made it clear that escape wasn’t an option right now.