Forty years had turned the hatchling into legend.
The dragon who once struggled to glide between sea cliffs had long since grown into her full size. Her wings now stretched wide across the sky, nearly twelve meters from tip to tip, their turquoise membranes catching moonlight as she glided silently through the night.
Her island lay far behind her now.
Over the decades she had expanded her hunting range, sometimes flying long distances along the northern coastlines. She rarely approached human settlements, but curiosity had pulled her farther tonight than usual.
And tonight the sky was alive.
She had heard the chaos long before she reached it.
Roars.
Shouting.
Explosions.
The unmistakable sound of dragons in battle.
Now the village came into view.
Below her, the settlement burned.
Wooden houses clustered around the shoreline while Vikings ran through the streets shouting orders and swinging weapons. Firelight flickered across rooftops as dragons swooped down from the darkness above.
Some grabbed livestock and fled back into the sky.
Others smashed through rooftops searching for food.
The village fought back fiercely.
Catapults and ballista-like machines fired upward while warriors threw flaming projectiles toward the attacking dragons.
She slowed her glide, staying high in the darkness above the chaos.
Unseen.
Unheard.
Watching.
The island-born dragon studied the battle like a scientist observing animals in the wild.
Different dragon species filled the sky.
A Deadly Nadder shrieked as it darted between buildings, its spiked tail smashing a wooden cart.
A heavy Gronckle crashed through a roof, emerging moments later with an armful of sheep.
Another dragon swooped low before being driven back by a volley of flaming arrows.
The Vikings were organized.
Prepared.
This wasn't their first raid.
Her ears twitched as she picked up a familiar voice shouting orders below.
A massive Viking stood near the center of the village, directing the defense with a huge axe in his hands.
Even from the sky she recognized him.
Stoick the Vast.
Which meant this was Berk.
History unfolding exactly as she remembered.
A sudden mechanical twang reached her ears.
Her head turned.
At the edge of the village, perched on a hillside above the battle, stood a strange launching machine.
A boy was working it.
Thin.
Awkward.
Moving frantically as dragons roared overhead.
She recognized him immediately.
Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III.
He struggled with the machine while chaos raged all around him.
No one paid him any attention.
Another dragon screamed as it flew past.
The boy adjusted the aim of the launcher quickly.
His hands shook.
Her ears rotated forward.
She knew what was coming.
A distant roar cut through the battle.
Something fast streaked across the sky above the village.
At first it looked like nothing more than a shadow moving through the clouds.
Then it banked slightly.
For a single moment moonlight touched its wings.
Smooth.
Black.
Perfectly silent.
A Night Fury.
The rarest dragon alive.
The creature moved so quickly that most of the Vikings never even saw it.
But Hiccup did.
The machine fired.
The net shot into the darkness.
For a heartbeat nothing happened.
Then the shadow twisted violently.
A roar split the sky.
The Night Fury tumbled out of the clouds, wrapped in the net.
It vanished into the forest beyond the village.
No one saw where it landed.
And in the chaos of the raid—
No one believed the boy had hit anything.
The dragon hovering above the village exhaled quietly.
Just like the story.
Below, Stoick and the other Vikings continued fighting the remaining dragons.
Buildings burned.
Dragons retreated with stolen livestock.
Within minutes the raid began to break apart.
The attackers scattered into the night sky carrying their food back toward whatever hidden nest they served.
The battle was over.
The dragon turned her gaze toward the dark forest beyond the village.
Somewhere in those trees a wounded Night Fury had just crashed.
And she knew what would happen next.
Hiccup would find it.
The war between dragons and humans would begin to change.
Her tail flicked slowly as she turned away from the burning village.
She did not interfere.
This moment belonged to someone else.
Instead she glided silently toward the distant forest where the fallen dragon lay hidden among the trees.
Curiosity stirred deep in her chest.
For forty years she had lived alone.
But tonight—
She was about to meet the most famous dragon in the world.
And history had no idea she existed.