The Ice Nomads: Future Dragon Riders

Chapter 1

            Disclaimer: We do not own School of Dragons or any of its characters.

Icestorm Island had a very harsh environment. Its most original name was given to it because of this harsh climate. On the southern end, there were huge glaciers that had been there for centuries. On the northern end stood an enormous wooden carving of a fierce Viking warrior. To the west were the fishing grounds, and to the east were the huts used by wandering Vikings during warmer seasons. Sloping up to the center of the island were small clearings with grass and trees, inhabited by wild dragons. And beneath this all were the Ice Caves—the warmest place for any Viking in winter.

"We're out of fire wood! Hello? Anyone?" MK, the eldest Viking of the nomadic Ice Nomads clan, was feeling impatient with everyone else.

Dreww, younger brother of another senior Viking, was the only one to respond. "We're all hibernating. Try asking again in the summer."

"Very funny. That settles it. You're going to get the fire wood." MK glared at the emo Viking.

Dreww returned her glare, but he began to walk toward the exit of the Ice Caves without complaining. It didn't take him very long to find his way out. Outside, he was hit by a blizzard, but he was used to it. He had lived here all his life. What he didn't know is that MK always followed him when he did his chores to make sure he wouldn't get him into trouble. She followed today.

The emo Viking wandered over to the north side of the island. He spotted some tall trees that were perfect for fire wood. The only problem was that they were on someone else's property. Oh well, he thought. Whatever. Finders, keepers.

As Dreww quickly chopped a tree stump into pieces, someone started yelling at him.

"Hey! Keep your blasted dragon away from my Fungus!"

When Dreww turned around, the ugliest old man he had ever seen was hobbling towards him. The guy had a mustache so long it looked like a beard...and he had a neck beard...and two tufts of hair sticking out of his Viking cap. The emo boy almost threw up just looking at him, but he managed to keep his composure.

"Your fungus? Do you have a disease or something?"

"No! They frightened my poor sheep, and now my poor Fungus is too scared to move! It's all your fault you, you idiot dragon riders! Keep away from my sheep!"

"Fungus? That's the name of your sheep? Wow, foreigners keep getting weirder and weirder these days."

The old man was extremely angered by this. He swung at Dreww with his cane, but he was no match for the young man. The emo Viking was surprisingly swift, despite his lazy and disinterested mindset.

"You'll have to try harder if you want to kill me. And by the way, I'm not a dragon raider, or whatever you just called me. You don't mess with dragons on this island...not if you want to live."

"Then who are you?" snarled the ugly old man. "I can't trust you! You're just like the other ones who flew by and destroyed my cabbage patch."

The young man's arms were already full of wood, and he was getting bored of arguing with some old loony who just happened to be living on the island at this moment. Strange people passed in and out of Icestorm Island. There wasn't anything unusual about this man...except that he was getting on Dreww's nerves. The old guy was still ranting after ten minutes, so he just had to cut him off.

"Well, how do I know you're not a dragon raider? You don't have any proof. For all I know, you could be a creepy pedophile serial killer or something."

"I'm not a dragon rider, you stupid kid! I'm not like those Berkians who abandoned all common sense and started flying around on dangerous beasts!"

"Berkian? What's that? The name of your imaginary friend?"

"You fool! Berk is only the most famous island around. Don't you know anything? Or are you just trying to trick me?"

Dreww could see he wasn't going to get any information from this crazy guy, so he tried to dodge him and make a run for it, but the man was too observant and blocked him with his cane.

The emo boy was irritated, but he faked a composed smile. "I don't believe I have had the pleasure of learning your name. What is it? Cabbagehead? Mushroom? Bread Mold?"

The old weirdo was at the end of his patience. He thrust out his cane to attack, but a mysterious voice suddenly called out from the hill behind the house.

"Mildew! There you are! We have given you so many chances, but here you are again, terrorizing innocent islanders. Stop right where you are!"

As a mysterious figure rushed in to save him, but Dreww could only think about one thing.

"Dude, your name is Mildew? For real? Your parents must have hated you."