This is a fanfic and I make no money from this. Original copyrights belong to Dreamworks and Cresedia Cowell
Chapter 1: The Challenge
The noise is almost deafening, the sounds of nearly one hundred Vikings and the cacophony of a dozen dragons echoing through the small stone cell, rattling the young dragon. In the small stone room he finds himself in, Starchaser paces, nerves raw from the building stress. The sound of chains and heavy wood timbers lifting, allows the massive wooden door to swing open. The roar of the crowd is enough to make his head throb as the smaller door on the far side of the arena opens as well.
No longer used to train Vikings in dragon killing, the old pens and training arena have found new uses after almost a decade and a half. The seats lining around the outer wall have been rearranged. Stone benches for humans circle three-quarters of the round ring. The last quarter holds a large dirt-filled field for the dragons of the island.
“Here we are! Once more, Viking and Dragon face off! Who’ll win?” Gobber the Belch, the village smith with a wooden paddle hand and peg-leg, steps into the center of the grey stone arena. Wiggling the chunk of stone he uses as a tooth, he gestured to one side of the field. “From this side, we ‘ave the ‘Pride of Berk’... Magnus!!”, He points to the smaller open door and the cheer of the village reaches a thunderous level. From the shadows steps a young man in his mid-teens. Due to his size and strength, he is often mistaken for twice his age. A short but fiery red beard adorns his face, and large gnarly horns rise from his helmet reaching to the sky above and scraping on the low stone roof above his head. Once clear of the doorway he tugs at the heavy leather vest he chose to wear, adjusting the thick plates across his torso.
Mentaly the young dragon acknowledged the armor should offer the soft two-legs some protection, but it is the shield held in one hand and net in the other that Chaser keeps his eyes on. He watches on, as the young man paces into the arena, waving to the crowd, driving the Vikings into a frenzy.
“In tha’ other side... The ‘Terror of the Night’... Starchaser!” While fewer in number, the voices of a dozen dragons all roar their support, shaking the very foundations of the arena. Pushing the doors open with a firm shove, the sleek black dragon prances into the center of the ring. With a deep breath he stills the fluttering in his belly, with an ear splitting roar he greets the audience.
“You’ve got this Magnus! Rip ‘is ‘ead off!” A deep voice calls from the ‘Chief’s box’, in the audience.
“Stoick!!” his shocked wife yells, smacking him on the back of his head with her hand.
“He’s my boy… I’ve gotta’ cheer ‘im on…”
“Don’t give him an inch, Chaser! Flame him and show them all what a Shadewing can do!!” A larger version of himself calls into the arena from the opposite side.
“Tannlaus!!” The shocked sound of the female dragon at his side calls out, before swatting her mate with her tail.
“Oww… What?! He’s my son… I’ve got to cheer him on!”
Shaking his head in humored disbelief, the young dragon looks his foe over. Crystal blue eyes meet the shrouded green of the viking before him.
“You ready, Nephew?” The boy taunts, his grip tightens as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
‘When you are, Uncle.’ The dragon answers with a nod, snarl and growl, knowing the younger man can’t understand dragonspeak, he still manages to get his point across.
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Generations: Broken Prophesy Story
FanfictionIt has been over a decade since the war. Dragons and Vikings found a balance with each other, but tensions build as Tannlaus and Kari's daughters approach adulthood. What do the Norns have in store for the trio of Shadewings?
