Night Fury's Venom

Part 18: The Dream

-Hello! Just to let you all know, italicized words—like what you see now—in large groups are dreams or sometimes, visions. Enjoy!

-NFD

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I was having a great dream for the first time in a while. I was still human, and I was great at everything I did. I could hold an ax, swing a war hammer, and even fling a bola! I was finally the son my father always wanted me to be. The 'Pride of Berk' he called me. No more 'Hiccup the Useless' for me! I had the strength of a true Viking, bravery that rivaled my Dad, and intelligence to out-think anyone I encountered.

Even the other teens—including Astrid—admired me and went out of their way to hang out with me. I could hardly walk through the village without being swarmed by Vikings asking about my training regimen, advice, or just to get noticed. I'd been chosen to kill the dragon out my group of teens. Today, I was going to kill the Monstrous Nightmare.

All my adoring fans shouted my name from the stands of the Kill Ring as I stepped through the portcullis. To the right lay the weapon's rack. It was little more than a large, flat piece of wood with small posts that semi-neatly held the weapons. It had many different weapons types, long and short swords, hammers, axes, maces, two shields, a bola, and a dagger. I smirked at the dagger, reminded of how that used to be the only weapon I could reliably use. I shook my head. Now wasn't the time to think about the past, I had to look to my future.

The crowd stayed silent as I considered my choices. I could take the ax, but it was designed for two-handed use, and I couldn't risk not having a shield. That also knocked the hammer out of my options. I chose a short sword and a shield, but not before slipping the dagger into my belt, just in case. The crowd watched with silent anticipation.

"I'm ready."

A Viking pulled the lever at my signal, the heavy log moving up with a loud clanking of chains. I braced myself for an angry dragon. Nothing happened. I waited a moment more before looking up at my Dad with brows furrowed in confusion. He leaned forward in his seat with narrowed eyes. Was it asleep? I doubted it; the sound of the chains would have woken it up. The crowd murmured with confusion.

Two Vikings cautiously moved through the entrance of the arena, slowly stepping toward the unmoving doors to figure out what was going on. Only a moment passed before the Nightmare burst out of its cage, flinging the doors open with an explosion of fire and smoke. I ducked behind my shield as fire was flung everywhere. Before I could react, it bolted across the arena and toward the portcullis.

They left it open. Why would they leave it open?!

I charged it and shouted to get its attention, but it ignored me entirely, plowing through the two unfortunate Vikings in its path. It shot out of the arena gate, arrows flying after it but burning up before they could land a hit. As soon as I realized it wasn't coming back, I whirled around to the cages. The fire had burned through the logs holding the other pens closed. And with the splintering of wood, all the doors were flung open.

The dragons were loose, and they were angry.

Only a few seconds had passed where Vikings jumped into the arena, claiming any weapon they could off the rack, and joined the fray. The portcullis was slammed shut as chaos unfolded inside the arena, dragon fire and the sound of fighting filling the air.

With no clear targets that I could see, I simply attacked anything with wings and a tail. My shield took a massive beating as I blocked fire and flailing limbs every which way, swinging my sword at a raging Gronckle. Unfortunately, it got tired of me and surprised me with a blob of fire.