The wise, kind voice of Uncle Fish Legs booms throughout the room, and it loudly says, "Everyone gather up!" Our small group congregates close to the weapons rack, around Uncle Fish Legs and his large Gronckle, Meatlug. He has a short patchy beard (if you could call it that), and hazel eyes glittering with excitement to impart his vast wisdom to us.
"Welcome to dragon training. Here you are going to learn everything you need to know about the amazing creatures known as dragons. How to fly with them, how to care for them, but most importantly how to become totally in tune with the best friends and partners a Viking could ever have."
I cast a glance around the small band of about 8 students. There is a large muscular boy who looks to be several heads taller than everyone else in the class. Another boy who is quite small with a mischievous glint in his smile, and a breathtaking girl wearing a laced green tunic covered by a large leather breastplate. She casts a glance over at me but it is not one of wonderment or malice, instead one of inquiry. As if she's trying to figure me out.
"Today we are going to start out with combat, because if you can't protect your dragon then you shouldn't be riding it. We're going to pair up, and have the winners face each other, until one victor emerges."
Everyone shuffles over towards the weapons rack and begins grabbing the largest, hammers, and axes that they can find. I survey the huge rack of weapons and return to the group holding a short curved, chronolingan sword, with a sturdy iron hilt, and a dragon headed pommel. Compared to the huge weapons of everyone else's choice my short sword looks puny, but it is sharp and I find that brute force is often undone by agility and speed. My mind flashes back to my father's favorite story to tell me when I was little.
On the day of his final trial for dragon training (which was far different years ago) he was supposed to kill a Monstrous nightmare. He wanted to show the whole village that we didn't have to be afraid of dragons, so when he had to pick a weapon from a large rack similar to this one, he didn't grasp a hammer, or axe he chose a small dagger.
In the first round of fights, Uncle Fish Legs places me against the large muscular boy who I learn is called Glum. The girl wearing the green tunic chuckles at the sight of me and my small sword standing in front of gargantuan Glum with his large, double-bladed axe. I think to myself that I will cut this bumbling oaf down to size. Every eye in the class fixes upon me in curiosity. The tension surrounding me in the air is so thick that it is hard to breathe. Everyone is staring at me excitedly, holding their breaths waiting for what "the chief's boy" is going to do next. I take a deep breath, and grip the hilt of my sword.
"Begin," says Uncle Fish Legs.
Glum jolts forward swinging the axe above his head letting out a monstruos battle cry. I remember my father's words, when you're fighting somebody who you can't beat with brute force then don't face him head on. Let him tire himself out, find an opening and attack. I abruptly somersault to the side, as the marble where I just stood cracks into powder. My sword darts across Glum's forearm between the cracks in his armor, slashing his flesh like butter.
He howls in pain and rips the axe from the floor swinging it across his chest, in one motion. I duck, and make a quick thrust forward, creating a shallow gash across his cheek. Glum growls, and punches me backwards with surprising speed. I skid across the floor gasping. If you fall, get back up as quick as you can, be smart don't give them any chance to attack you, stay in control. I use my arms to flip upwards wiping the metallic tasting blood off my lip. Glum charges forward in a berserking rage swinging the axe above his head in a circular motion.
The axe comes barreling towards my chest. I draw my dagger, and I put it beneath my short sword making an X like formation stopping the blade midstroke. Press your advantage, and drive them back! I use my sword to hold the axe at bay and use my other hand to slash his ankle with my dagger. Glum shrieks, and falls to his knees, as I dart around to his side striking his helmet with the pommel of my sword. He stands still for a moment a dazed sleepy expression on his face, before hitting the ground with a magnificent thud.
The next opponent I face is the short mischievous boy named Loki. He carries a long spear, which he utilizes to great affect and speed. If someone is faster than you then don't fight them, wait for an opening and strike. I heed my father's words and evade Loki, until his strikes grow less precise, slower. I find my opening and thrust my blade upwards slashing across his thigh, bringing him to his knees. I am victorious.
My class cheers loudly as I step off the round, marble, retractable arena clutching my bleeding shoulder. I had done it, I had upheld the legacy and won, I even let out a small grin, but something feels wrong. The girl grins menacingly towards me as I hear uncle Fish Legs announce, "Arne is the victor! The next round will be between Arne Haddock, and Brenda Jorgensen
YOU ARE READING
Beyond the Shadow
Short StoryGo on a journey with Hiccup's son Arne and his struggle to move beyond the shadow of his father and find his own identity in dragon training.
