The Lost Boy V - Short stories

Valhalla

(set between Books 3 et 4)

His ears were still ringing, the sound of blast and screams echoing in his head. His heart was beating loudlt and fast, his breathing erratic, his limbs shaking. He didn't dare open his eyes. He didn't because he was afraid of what he would see, of knowing he had been too late. Then he didn't want to see the disaster.

The ringing slowly subdued, replaced by a heavy and worrisome silence. He couldn't hear anything around him. In the background, he did hear noises, echos from the battle, but nothing seemed alive around him, like a bubble of frozen time surrounding him. This silence scared him so much he couldn't keep his eyes shut any longer.

Everything was white. Some flecks of snow swiftly swirling around him as he was lying on the ground. Wait, laying ? Why laying ? He swore he was standing and running when... A purple-blue light shone in his eyes, reminiscence of a memory that seemed old but happened barely seconds ago. He shot up with a scream, his breathing short and quick.

His first reflex was to pat his chest, noticing it was adorning a dark smoked mark. The armor underneath seemed untouched, but he could still remember the pain. He ran in fingers on it, covering the tip with soot.

''No...'' A broken voice whispered behind him.

Recognizing the voice, he jumped to his feet and turned around.

''Hiccup !''

What he saw chocked him. Hiccup was there, kneeling in the snow and his head dropped forward, sobbing next an undistinct mass. He had to wait for a bit for the fog to fade and reveal there were actually several silhouettes on the ground. His heart fell in his guts as he recognized Elska's ice armor, as well as Joke's lithe frame.

''No...'' He breathed.

He instantly rushed to them, tripping in the process.

''Hiccup !'' He called out with urgency.

He crashed to his knees next to the auburnet and aimed to put a hand on his shoulder, but he stopped as he spotted Astrid running towards them. Her ocean blue eyes were brimming with choc and horror, still she shook her head and knelt next to Hiccup, bending over another laying frame. An imposing one.

Stoick recognized himself. He didn't know how it was possible, but it really was him laying on the ground, motionless, his face pale and dull and his chest drowned in black soot. Frozen, he stared at Astrid pressing her ear on the motionless chest, deep sadness creeping on her face before she hesitantly turned to Hiccup, and put a hand on his shaking shoulder.

Stoick couldn't react. He couldn't grasp his mind around what was happening. When Elska moved, grunting and wincing, knowing she was alive, knowing he had saved her, that barely soothed him. His green eyes trailed back to the body that looked so much like him. The liveless corpse.

Sounds started to blur around him, as if he had suddenly been thrown underwater. He looked at Hiccup, face red and eyes watering. He looked at Elska, shaking a non-responding Joke with equal worry and despair. He looked at the other riders, themselves staring at the scene, chocked and mourning. He noticed how noone was looking at him, how noone seemed to notice he was there.

That's when he heard footsteps from behind him. Unlike all the other sounds, those were perfectly clear. He glances around and swore he was dreaming. As if the rest of this vision was not enough strange as it was...

Some light was shining a few steps away from him, as if a small sun was there, floating above the ground. A woman was standing just in front of it. She was tall and well-built, wearing an armure that seemed to be made of gold, and she had two eagle wings on her back, beating slowly. She shook them and folded them on her back, before she smiled softly at him. Reassuringly.