The sky was still entirely black when Edward walked to the wooden wall at the edge of the village.
The air felt cold.
A thick mist rolled off the ocean and covered the grass.
Edward leaned against a heavy wooden post.
He waited.
A few minutes later, he heard footsteps.
Hiccup walked up the dirt path.
He rubbed his eyes.
He looked tired, but he showed up.
“Good morning,” Edward said.
“Morning,” Hiccup yawned.
“It is very dark out here.” “The dragons attack in the dark,” Edward replied simply.
“If you want to fight them, you need to be awake before they are.
Let’s begin.
We will start with running.” Edward started jogging down the path.
Hiccup followed right behind him.
They ran down the dirt roads of Berk.
Edward kept a very slow pace for himself, but it was a fast pace for Hiccup.
They ran past the dark houses.
They ran all the way down the stone steps to the docks, turned around, and ran back up the hill.
After one lap, Hiccup started breathing heavily.
After two laps, Hiccup was panting.
After three laps, Hiccup tripped over a tree root and fell into the dirt.
Edward stopped.
He turned around.
Hiccup stayed on the ground.
He rested his forehead in the wet dirt.
He gasped for air.
“My legs feel like heavy wood,” Hiccup wheezed.
“I don’t think I can run anymore.” Edward walked over.
He looked down at the boy.
“You can stop if you want,” Edward said calmly.
“You can go back to bed.
But a dragon will not stop chasing you just because your legs are tired.
If you stop running out there, you die.” Hiccup closed his eyes.
He thought about Snotlout laughing at him.
He thought about his father looking away in shame.
He gritted his teeth.
Hiccup pushed himself up from the dirt.
His legs shook, but he stood up straight.
“I am not stopping,” Hiccup said.
“Good,” Edward nodded.
“Keep moving.” They finished five laps.
Then, Edward moved to bodyweight exercises.
He showed Hiccup how to do pushups.
Hiccup could only do five before his arms gave out.
Edward made him rest for one minute, then made him do five more.
Then they did squats.
Then they did situps in the wet grass.
By the time the sun finally started to peek over the horizon, the training was over.
Hiccup could not stand up.
He dragged himself across the grass on his hands and knees.
He literally crawled up the wooden steps of his house.
He pushed the front door open, collapsed onto the floorboards, and groaned loudly.
Edward watched him go.
He smiled slightly.
Hiccup was weak, but he had a very strong will.
Up on the hill, near a large window in the chief’s house, Stoick the Vast stood with a cup of hot water in his hand.
He had watched the entire training session from afar.
He saw his son fall in the dirt.
He expected Hiccup to quit and go back to bed.
But Hiccup stood back up.
He kept running.
A rare, warm feeling filled Stoick’s chest.
He felt proud.
His son lacked physical strength, but he finally showed the stubborn heart of a true Viking.
Later that morning, Stoick walked down to the blacksmith shop.
He found Gobber sharpening a sword on the grinding wheel.
“Gobber,” Stoick said quietly, stepping into the shop.
“I saw something strange this morning.” Gobber stopped the wheel.
He looked up.
“Did the sheep get into the mead barrels again?” “No,” Stoick shook his head.
“I saw Hiccup.
He was out before the sun.
The new boy, Edward, was making him run laps around the village.
Hiccup fell down in the dirt.
He looked completely beaten.” Gobber sighed.
“Ah, the poor lad.
Did he cry?” “He stood back up,” Stoick said.
A small smile touched his thick beard.
“He stood up and finished the run.
He crawled into the house on his hands and knees, but he did not quit.” Gobber’s eyes widened.
He let out a loud, booming laugh.
“Is that so?
Well, well!
Maybe the boy has a little piece of Viking iron hidden in him after all!
It seems Edward was a good influence.” Stoick nodded slowly.
“We will see.
Do not tell Hiccup I was watching.” At that moment, Edward and Hiccup were sitting at a long wooden table in the Great Hall.
It was time for breakfast.
Hiccup reached for a simple, dry piece of hard bread.
Edward reached across the table.
He took the bread right out of Hiccup’s hand and tossed it back into the basket.
Then, Edward grabbed a large serving plate.
He piled it high with thick cuts of roasted mutton, smoked fish, and boiled eggs.
He dropped the massive plate right in front of Hiccup.
Hiccup stared at the mountain of meat.
“I cannot eat all of this.” “Yes, you can,” Edward said, grabbing a chicken leg for himself.
“You just ran until your muscles tore.
Bread does not fix muscles.
Meat and fish build strength.
If you want to get stronger, you have to eat like it.” Hiccup groaned, rubbing his sore arms, but he picked up a fork and started eating the fish.
The next two weeks settled into a peaceful, hard routine.
Every morning, Edward pushed Hiccup to his limits.
They ran.
They dodged trees.
They jumped over rocks.
Hiccup complained constantly, but he ate his heavy meals and he never missed a morning.
Slowly, very slowly, Hiccup stopped tripping over his own feet.
He gained a tiny bit of breath.
People started to notice.
One morning, Astrid stood near the edge of the woods.
She threw her heavy wooden axe at a painted target.
Thwack.
She hit the center perfectly.
She pulled the axe out of the wood.
She turned her head and saw Hiccup jogging past the houses.
He was sweating heavily, but he was actually moving at a steady pace.
He did not trip.
Astrid narrowed her blue eyes.
She watched Hiccup run past.
Then, she looked down the path and saw Edward standing by a post, calmly watching the time.
Astrid glared at Edward.
She gripped her axe handle tightly.
She did not like mysteries, and she highly suspected the strange new boy was doing something weird to the village outcast.
She decided to keep a very close eye on them.
During the day, Edward worked in the forge with Gobber.
Edward liked hitting the metal.
It felt good to make things with his hands.
He also used the heavy hammer to build his own physical stamina.
One afternoon, the forge was boiling hot.
Gobber wiped sweat from his forehead with a dirty rag.
He sat down on a wooden stool to take a break.
He drank a large cup of water.
He looked over at Edward.
Edward stood at the anvil.
He held a heavy, solid iron hammer.
He was flattening a large shield rim.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Edward’s rhythm was perfect.
He did not breathe hard.
He did not sweat.
Gobber stared at a nearby hourglass.
He realized Edward had been swinging that exact same heavy hammer for four hours straight.
“By the gods, lad,” Gobber breathed in absolute amazement.
He pointed his hook at Edward.
“Are your arms made of solid iron?
I have never seen a full-grown man swing a hammer for four hours without needing a water break or a rest!” “Just good pacing,” Edward replied smoothly, not missing a single swing.
At night, Edward had his own secret routine.
When the village went to sleep, Edward snuck past the wooden wall.
He walked deep into the thick, wild woods.
He walked until he could not see the village lights anymore.
He found a quiet clearing.
He pulled his ash wood wand from his pocket.
In his old world, he could not cast spells outside of Hogwarts because the Ministry of Magic tracked underage magic.
But he was not in that world anymore.
There was no Ministry here.
He was completely free to practice.
“Lumos,” Edward said.
A bright white light filled the clearing.
“Reducto,” Edward said, pointing his wand at a heavy fallen log.
A flash of blue light hit the wood.
The log exploded into hundreds of tiny splinters.
He spent hours practicing his spells.
He practiced shielding charms, cutting curses, and levitation.
He pushed his magic hard.
When he felt tired, he put his wand away and walked back to his bed, feeling entirely satisfied.
Two weeks passed exactly like this.
Then, one night, the routine broke.
Edward was sleeping in his small cot in the Great Hall.
Suddenly, a loud, deep horn blew in the distance.
HOOOOOONK.
The horn blew again.
It was the warning signal.
People in the hall jumped out of their beds.
They grabbed axes and swords from the walls.
“Dragons!” a man shouted.
Edward sat up.
He put his boots on.
He walked out the heavy doors of the hall and stepped into the night.
The village of Berk was in total chaos.
Fires burned on the roofs of the wooden houses.
Large, winged shapes flew through the dark sky.
Vikings ran through the dirt streets, yelling and waving their weapons.
Edward walked down the path.
He saw a group of teenagers running toward a burning house.
It was Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut.
They were the village Fire Brigade.
They pulled a heavy wooden cart filled with buckets of water.
“Looking good tonight, Astrid!” Snotlout yelled over the noise of the fire, trying to flex his arms while holding a bucket.
Astrid ignored him.
She grabbed a bucket, spun around, and violently threw the water directly onto the burning roof.
The fire hissed loudly.
Edward moved past them.
A blue Deadly Nadder landed on a wooden house right in front of him.
It looked down and saw a group of fat sheep running in a panic.
The Nadder squawked and dove off the roof, aiming its sharp claws right at a slow sheep.
Edward used his silent step.
He dashed across the dirt street faster than a normal person could run.
He grabbed the thick wool of the sheep and pulled it backward.
The dragon’s claws hit empty dirt.
The Nadder hissed in anger.
It opened its mouth and spat a stream of bright, hot fire at Edward.
Edward simply stepped to the right.
The fire missed his clothes entirely.
Edward reached out with his bare hand.
He slapped the side of the dragon’s snout hard.
The hit surprised the dragon.
It shook its head, squawked loudly, and flew back up into the sky.
Suddenly, a loud hissing sound came from the stone chimney right next to Edward.
A Hideous Zippleback poked its two heads out from behind the stone.
One head opened its jaws and sprayed a thick cloud of green gas right at Edward.
The second head leaned forward and clicked its teeth together, making a bright yellow spark.
The spark hit the gas.
A massive explosion of fire erupted.
The blast tore the chimney apart.
Edward did not panic.
He used his Zoldyck footwork.
He planted his front foot and flipped backward through the air.
The bright orange flames washed over the exact spot where he just stood, missing him by an inch.
Edward landed smoothly on his feet in the dirt.
He dusted a small piece of ash off his shoulder.
He looked up at the two dragon heads peering through the smoke.
Edward smirked.
“Skill issue.” The Zippleback blinked its four eyes.
It looked confused by the lack of fear.
It growled, turned around, and flew away to find an easier target.
Down near the forge, Hiccup ran out of his house.
“Get back inside!” a woman shouted, pushing past him.
Hiccup ignored her.
He ran straight to the blacksmith shop.
Gobber was inside, putting a heavy iron axe head onto his arm stump.
“Hiccup!
Stay in the forge!
Do not go out there!” Gobber charged out of the shop, yelling a battle cry.
Hiccup watched him go.
He turned around.
He looked at the heavy wooden machine sitting in the corner of the room.
It was his bola launcher.
It was ready.
Hiccup pushed the heavy machine out the back door of the forge.
He wheeled it up a grassy hill, away from the main fighting.
He stopped near the edge of the cliff and looked up at the dark sky.
Suddenly, a high-pitched, whistling sound echoed through the night air.
It sounded like the wind tearing itself apart.
EEEEEEEEEE.
A massive watchtower on the far side of the village suddenly exploded.
A blast of purple fire tore the wood to shreds.
It was the Night Fury.
Hiccup heard the whistle.
He quickly turned his machine toward the dark sky.
He loaded the heavy rope and the iron weights.
He heard the whistle come back around.
He saw a faint, dark shadow block out the stars for just one second.
Hiccup pulled the trigger.
The machine bucked wildly.
The heavy throwing arm snapped forward.
The rope and iron weights shot high into the dark sky.
A moment later, a loud, pained shriek echoed over the ocean.
GRAAAAAAAH!
Hiccup saw a dark shape falling rapidly out of the sky.
It fell past the cliffs and crashed deep into the wild woods of Raven Point.
“I hit it,” Hiccup whispered.
His eyes went wide.
“I hit it!
Did anybody see that?” Hiccup turned around to see if anyone was watching.
Nobody was looking at him.
But something else was.
A massive Monstrous Nightmare climbed over the edge of the cliff right behind Hiccup.
It was covered in red scales.
Its mouth dripped with thick, sticky fire.
It looked down at Hiccup and growled.
Hiccup backed away slowly.
He bumped into his wooden machine.
The dragon stepped forward.
It placed its massive, heavy claw directly on top of the wooden bola launcher.
CRUNCH.
The thick wood snapped instantly.
The heavy iron pulleys and the tension ropes shattered into a hundred broken pieces.
The invention was completely destroyed in a single second.
The dragon opened its jaws wide, aiming right at Hiccup.
Suddenly, Stoick the Vast leaped over a burning cart.
He swung a massive war hammer.
He smashed the hammer directly into the Nightmare’s jaw.
The dragon roared in pain, spat a wild ball of fire, and flew away into the night.
The warning horns blew again.
The raid was over.
The dragons grabbed their stolen sheep and flew back out over the ocean.
Stoick turned to Hiccup.
His face was completely red with anger.
“I told you to stay inside!” Stoick yelled loudly.
The other Vikings gathered around, watching the chief yell at his son.
“I know, but I hit a dragon!” Hiccup said quickly, pointing toward the woods.
“It went down just over Raven Point!
If we get a search party, we can find it!” The Vikings groaned.
They rolled their eyes.
“Stop it,” Stoick said.
He pointed a thick, angry finger toward the sky.
“Just stop!
Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed!
I cannot have you out here making things worse!” Hiccup looked at the disappointed faces of the village.
He looked at Astrid, who just shook her head and walked away.
Gobber walked up behind Hiccup.
The blacksmith gave the boy a light, sympathetic smack on the back of the head.
“Go home, Hiccup.
Just go home.” Hiccup lowered his head.
He started the long, quiet walk of shame.
He walked past his father and headed slowly toward his empty house.
Edward stood near the forge.
He brushed some soot off his sleeves.
He watched Hiccup walk away.
He knew exactly how Hiccup felt right now.
But Edward also knew that he had just changed the history of the village.
The Night Fury was down.
The real story was finally ready to begin.
Edward turned and walked back to the Great Hall to get some sleep.
Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day.