⚠️Warning⚠️
This chapter may contain sensitive and/or triggering subjects, such as death and gore. Please read with caution if these subjects are distressing for you.
Also, I am not fully accustomed to Viking/Norse culture, but I am doing research, so if at any point I get something wrong, and/or offend anyone, I apologize.
Everything looked familiar, but misty, in a fashion, as if it was sending outwards a soft blur. It felt alien but recognizable at the same time. It felt as if he had been here before.
It was the 12th day of Jul, also known as December the 31st. Snow had settled as a thin and crisp layer, as if it had come out of a soft and calming scene from a portrait. The white blanket that had been gifted by the sky was unbroken, and made a satisfying crunching and crisp sound when one imprinted their footprint into it.
Toby and Lyra had snuck out from the Hall where the majority of feast, singing and games occurred, seeing as it was a bit much for the younger boy; he did like the feeling of closeness and celebration, but at the same time it was all rather loud and crowded.
As it was a celebration, Lyra was wearing her kransen, that had been passed down to her by their Mother. Her light blonde hair had been tied into a waterfall braid that she had proudly done, herself. She wore a fur item, that ran across her shoulders, and a white dress, with a thin, woven brown belt around her waist.
The two of them rushed off to a small ledge, made of rock. Giggles could be heard from the older blonde as her green eyes sparkled with excitement. "Look- right there, Toby!" She said, pointing enthusiastically to the Dragon she had spotted days ago, and was eager to attempt to aid it in it's recovery.
The towering Dragon seemed agitated, and in pain. It's thick-needle-like claws dug into the ground making it look like it had been stabbing the snow and clawing to the grass, as it's beady, yellow eyes glanced around. It's slit pupils seemed to glare at anything that could possibly move. It's horns twisted up into two sharp points. Some of it's teeth on it's bottom jaw proturded upwards, and stopped in level with it's eyes. They looked like needles ready to impale it's prey. It seemingly huffed, steam leaving it's snout.
"A-Are you sure we should be helping this one by ourselves?" Peeped Lyra's younger brother, who looked to the girl with a nervous expression. He loved Dragons, but he understood that Lyra and himself couldn't always help them on their own.
The blonde nodded slightly, "Yeah, of course. The only good way to learn is to do it yourself, you know?" She replied, with a small shrug. In Toby's eyes, Lyra knew exactly what she was doing- she was fifteen, after all and she was in the Dragon training programme. Toby was just a twelve year old- how would he know better? "Go get some Sagefruit, I'll teach you!" Lyra stated, with a bright smile.
Reluctantly, the brunet nodded, clambering off of the rock with a small slip; quickly landing on the snow, earning a soft crunch. He started to rush off, smiling brightly. He was excited to be able to help a Dragon; sure, he'd pet some here or there- mostly Stormfly- but helping one was something new and exciting.
He scampered off to find where some of the Berk Farmers had planted some, in the forests, in hope of calming new Dragons.
It wasn't too long before Toby found some of the Sagefruit; the item hanging from a snow-covered stem that had grown from the ground. His hands wrapped around the fruit, gently tugging on it. When it finally broke off, the boy gently shook it and wiped it to try and wipe off any snow from the plant, looking at the green, yellow and orange coloured object in awe.
He tilted his head slightly. It was odd- how could something so distasteful and vile to a human could do wonders for an aggravated Dragon; they loved the food.
His thoughts were cut off by a distant scream; it was one filled of pain and shock, which caused Toby's head to immediately snap over in the direction it came from; his browny-green eyes widening in worry. He dropped the fruit as he started to run over to where he last saw his sister- by following her footsteps, hoping it wasn't her that was in danger.
He just wanted to find Lyra and go back to the Hall.
The scream had echoed, meaning that most of the people in the village had most likely heard it, too- even if it was faint.
Toby came to a brief stop when he saw the rock that he and his sibling had previously climbed. His hands gently pressed against the cold material; despite the temperature failing to affect him. Once he had purchase on it, he clambered up, running to the top and edge of it.
Tears glazed his widened eyes upon the sight of the bloody snow and pieces of ripped, white cloth that was stained a deep, dark red. "Lyra?" The boy hesitantly called out, his voice breaking. When he was greeted with silence, tears started to spill from his eyes as he started to choke on his own sobs.
He took in a sharp breath as he tried to calm himself down. He was clearly scared. He didn't want to be alone right now, either. Hesitantly, he slowly and cautiously started to climb down the perch, from the ledge. His feet dangled down slightly, before he let go, landing quietly on the snow. He glanced around before carefully beginning to approach the bloody scene before him.
Timidly, he once again called out his sister's name, glancing around, before following the trail of red stained snow (that looked as if something had been dragged along it) and ripped cloth. Toby's lip quivered as more tears started to roll down his freckle covered cheeks when he turned the corner. There was a massacre.
It was clear that Lyra was gone now..
The shaking boy sucked in a few breaths as he sobbed quietly, the clearest thing in his blurred vision being the circular, brown piece of headwear with silver studs, that lay upon the tainted snow. Hesitantly, he went over to it, gently picking the kransen into his shaking hands.
The sound of quiet footsteps behind him could be heard, causing the boy to turn around, in hopes he would see his Mother or Father, wanting nothing more than someone to hug right now. However, what he came face to face to was the very thing that killed his sister- the same Monstrous Nightmare she intended to help.
Toby's breath hitched, not having enough time to react properly, only stumbling back slightly; just missing the swipe that the Dragon had gone for- it's claw just grazing the left side of his face, causing three lines to appear on the boy's face, the middle going through his eyes, yet the claw luckily missed it. Blood immediately started to seep from the wound, causing the hyperventilating boy to fall to the ground, closing his left eye- as the blood was imparing his vision.
Upon instinct, the boy started to scramble backwards, looking up to the Dragon in fear. When he hesitantly broke eye contact with the creature that was slowly approaching him, with an ominous glare, he looked around him, frantically, spotting a group of rocks, one of which had a small crack in it.
Toby immediately rushed to his feet, running over to the rocks; causing the Dragon to start to approach the boy faster. As soon as Toby got to the small gap in the rocks, he got onto his hands and knees, crawling inside as fast as he could, narrowly missing the snap of the Dragon's jaws coming down onto each other.
Toby crawled as far as he could, before shifting so he was sat up, kicking the dirt beneath him to push himself further away from the entrance, his eyes fixated on the creature that seemingly huffed and hummed- almost amused, moving it's head so Toby was submerged in complete darkness, the only thing he could make out being that beady, yellow eye.
The boy was shaking, and it only got worse when he felt his back hit the cold, hard wall, meaning that he couldn't back up any further than he already had. His ragged breaths had turned into hiccups as his head snapped violently to the side. He felt disorientated, like the world was spinning, and he couldn't focus on anything. His mouth felt dry and a lump had started to form at the back of his throat, as it felt like his stomach was being compressed and the taste of bile filled his mouth.
It only had to be so long before someone found him, right?
He felt his heart thumping harshly against his chest as the sound of his own pulse filled his ears; his grip tightening on the kransen in his small hands.
Toby sat bolt right up in bed, breathing heavily with a panicked expression. It had been five years and he still had those nightmares. Granted, when he was twelve he didn't sleep for two nights straight, and would only get rest when he collapsed into a stated of unconsciousness, before repeating the process, when he was awoken by the memory. Atleast now he could go to sleep without his Mother or Father promising that nothing was going to happen to him whilst he was unconscious.
Then again, that isn't much of an improvement since that stopped when he was thirteen, seeing as he had started to claim he was able to deal with it himself. That was also the same age he had started to take up Metalwork. Granted, it wasn't full on tackling the hobby, but he had started to help Brian, one of Berk's blacksmiths, at that age. The blond man had taught him rather well, in Toby's eyes, but seemed hesitant to praise him when he had made his helmet- at the age of fourteen. He got a similar reaction when he had made his shield and hatchet. It's what enforced Toby's beliefs that people would diss him due to his views.
He had become friends with Jane at fourteen, too, seeing as she had sold him some black and yellow wool. The black haired girl had wanted to help the community out by volunteering with different jobs. She had asked what he wanted it for, out of curiosity, and he replied with the truth; knitting.
Another hobby he had taken up.
The boy wiped his eyes with the inside of his wrist with a quiet sigh, before running his hands through his hair. He was sick of the nightmares. All of it was just.. Exhausting.
The sound of a quiet chirp could be heard from his night stand; the top drawer was slightly ajar and contained a spikey, small creature. It's spines were relaxed and instead look more like a fur coat. It's small yet long snout gently twitched as it rolled onto it's tiny limbs. It almost seemed concerned about it's human companion. This was Odin.
Not the Odin, but Toby's pet hedgehog. The small creature was estimated to live from five to ten years; and it was already presumably three years old, maybe four- since he was gifted the creature at the age of fifteen, by his Mother, who had stumbled across it.
He reluctantly swung his legs out of his bed, making sure his floorboards didn't creak when he put his feet onto them. He leant down, grabbing a pair of yellow and black striped stockings- he'd designed them to look like eels when he knitted them, and it occasionally worked as a Dragon repellent. They were soft, but worn, slightly. He needed to make newer ones soon.
He gently and slowly rolled the items of clothing up his legs, with a sigh. He lacked a lot of energy right now. He then picked up his dark grey trousers, putting them on as well, before grabbing his dark blue, pale tunic. He quickly put it on, standing up so he could make his bed. Once finished, he carefully and quietly walked over to his fur covered boots, putting on the black footwear, before grabbing his dark grey, fur jacket, too.
He had to go to the Cove.
It was where he felt most comfortable; his own little residency where he could relax and forget about everything.
“Sorry, Odin, not this time.” Toby stated quietly and softly, as he gently petted the hedgehog's back with one of his fingers. The animal seemed a bit spooked, seeing as the man had startled it during one of his spacing out episodes- whilst it was climbing out of it's bedroom. It's tiny hands let go of the drawer's side, and the ledge of the top of the nightstand, 'running' off to the other end of it's room. He would usually be brought along with Toby's adventures, but barely was he taken out of Berk's main part of civilization. Almost never had the creature ventured to Ravenpoint with him.
Toby grabbed his things; helmet, ink, quill, book and his shield- which was the traditionally circular shape and had three colours; white, black and blue. The left half of the shield was blue, with a black bird facing downwards. The right half was white with a black bird facing upwards. He had crafted his shield himself- as well as his helmet- having also painted it, too, which he was rather proud of. Swiftly, he put the book, quill and ink into his satchel, and put his helmet on. He then grabbed a hatchet. He was yet to use it, for these past three years of owning it, but, it kept him at peace with his mind.
His head turned so he looked to his nightstand, his green orbs, that had a few brown flecks, focused on the kransen that was placed there. He walked over, placing it gently into his satchel, too. He took it everywhere with him, so he wouldn't leave his sister alone, again.