HTTYD: Wings of Change

Chapter One

Day 40, still no sign of a permanent home. Some Sea Furies have managed to get the clan some fish, but so far, everyone is holding out so the little ones eat. Father and Mother have been leading ever since Kessla fell in the battle. Luckily, no Deathgrippers. Must find a safe home, no humans.

The girl sighed as she closed her journal, looking out over the clan in the forest. All kinds of Furies and what seemed to be humans were working together, either repairing weapons, healing the injured, or caring for the young. Two Light Furies sat on a rock overhead, looking out over the area.

That was Lachlan and Lis, the two new leaders of the clan. Lachlan was a TitanWing, scales of red coating his spine and wings, like he was wounded. Some say that when he ascended to the TitanWing stage, Odin himself tried to slay him, only to fail.

Did the girl believe that? Yes, she did. She sighed, and stood, stretching. It was nightfall soon. She wanted to get the lay of the island, before bed. With a hum, she removed her jacket, letting her snowy white wings stretch. She smiled, and flew up, her tailfins opening.

She whooped, doing a little spin as she flew over the trees. She looked at the rising moon, and frowned. She breathed a plasma blast, and flew through it, going incognito mode.

She heard a dragon roar, and her eyes narrowed as she saw an orange glow ahead. Fire. Great.

She joined some more dragons, not that they could see her. Still, it felt nice to be included. Still... Why is that village almost familiar?

🐉

This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death.

It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.

My village. In a word, sturdy. And it's been here for seven generations, but, every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets.

The only problems are the pests. You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have...

A young boy, about 15, opened the door to his home, only to slam it as a Monstrous Nightmare breathed a gust of fire at it. Eyes wide, he breathed one word. "Dragons.".

Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have, stubbornness issues. My name's Hiccup. Great name, I know. But, it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.

Hiccup ran out, with shouts for him to get back inside. He nearly ran into the path where a Deadly Nadder let her fire loose, nearly getting cooked. But someone grabbed him, yanking him back. "Hiccup! What is he doing out- What are you doing out?! Get inside!" The Viking yelled, shoving him along.

That was Stoick the Vast, chief of the tribe. Some say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off its shoulders. Did Hiccup believe that? Yes, he honestly did.

"Hoist the torches!" Vikings yelled, raising up the large torches to light up the sky. Dragons roared, avoiding the light the best they could.

Just another normal raid... Until a whistle pierced the air.

"Night Fury! Get down!" Vikings yelled, taking cover just before a plasma blast hit a torch, knocking it down.