Forfeit
Chapter 5
The fog was much thicker than it had ever been. It blanketed the village in an ample puff of gray, and would not disperse, though mid-day wasn't far off. No viking dared to fly a dragon when things were only visible for a few feet. Knowing this, I stayed well away from the mead hall where the majority of the villagers and their "pets" would be spending their free time.
I headed for my boat, looking forward to the comfort and shade of the clouds. Getting down the arduously high cliff above the shore gave me difficulty. I had to keep a slow pace and keep watch to make sure I didn't walk off the ramp that led the way, and, as soon as I reached the dock, I had to be cautious of the edge. Drowning in this weather promised no assistance from another person.
My boat cast a shadow through the bleak gray as I walked up to it. I untethered it and hopped in. On the trip out further onto the sea, I organized the various items in the vessel. I untangled my ropes and gave everything a proper place. As I decided I was far enough away from the village, I glanced down at my nets.
What was the point in tossing the traps into the water? I caught a measly ten or so fish a day. The vikings that used their dragons, like my brother and Hiccup on occasion, could catch three or four times that. It was all useless. My nets, my lines, my boat, myself. All useless.
I glanced aimlessly into the darkening sky. There wasn't much I could do about that. If only those dragons hadn't come to live with us. We were going against everything our ancestors had created for us. All the weapons and fighting tactics that were passed on through the generations were going to waste. And what good is a viking if there's nothing to fight. What were we supposed to do if there wasn't an enemy for us to attack.
As the sun had yet to show itself, and the air began to grow cooler. Noticing it, I dreaded the coming winter. The cold and snow assail us suddenly and are adamant about leaving soon. So, we shuffle through the months, dreaming of the few rainy, yet warm months.
Noticing the pounding sound of wings, I glared in the direction, wondering who would be stupid enough to come out this far on a dragon. I contemplated on this for a moment, coming up with a decently sized list before I heard my name being called out.
"Atli! Atli! Where are you?" There was no mistaking the sound of Hiccup's voice.
I let a slightly grave sigh loose, "Over here!"
As he was not far away, Hiccup found me quickly. "Come on, you have to get back to shore. There's a huge storm on the way."
I rolled my eyes a bit, it wasn't like a viking had never been caught out at sea during a storm before. I grabbed up my oars and began rowing.
"Let me help you. You won't make it back in time by yourself." With this, I knew there was something going on. It just seemed so unusual. Seeing the rope still tied to the head of my boat, I tossed it up to him before taking up the oars again.
Between the three of us (Well, Toothless and I did all the work), we got to shore quicker than any viking ship I had seen. With my ship tied extra tight to the dock, we started up the ramp. The fog had begun to disperse slightly, and we could walk up easier than it had been to travel down.
As we headed for the mead hall, Hiccup explained, "The elder is having everyone gather together. She thinks this may be the worst storm Berk has seen."
Now, that statement was difficult to believe. I, myself, had seen some pretty monstrous storms in my life. And I knew that the elder had seen many times more. Not to mention that if there is any weather on Berk, it's dreadful.
On our way in, we passed Stoick the Vast. His expression gravely supported Hiccup's information. His eyes were squinted into a glare and his mouth was tucked into a frown. The combination created a deep scowl upon his face.
We closed the door behind us and I shoved my way to a relatively secluded corner. The population of dragons almost out numbered the vikings, and how they all managed to fit into one room together amazed me. The space was horribly cramped, yet all villagers and their pets were accounted for.
Hiccup followed me back while muttering, mostly, to himself. "There must be something wrong. We've had such bad weather recently, but it's too early to be winter." I listened to him mumble on as we found a couple seats.
"Maybe its just a rain storm." I disputed apathetically. Yet, before Hiccup could respond, a large peal of thunder shattered through the hall and strained silence among the people.
I headed for my boat, looking forward to the comfort and shade of the clouds. Getting down the arduously high cliff above the shore gave me difficulty. I had to keep a slow pace and keep watch to make sure I didn't walk off the ramp that led the way, and, as soon as I reached the dock, I had to be cautious of the edge. Drowning in this weather promised no assistance from another person.
My boat cast a shadow through the bleak gray as I walked up to it. I untethered it and hopped in. On the trip out further onto the sea, I organized the various items in the vessel. I untangled my ropes and gave everything a proper place. As I decided I was far enough away from the village, I glanced down at my nets.
What was the point in tossing the traps into the water? I caught a measly ten or so fish a day. The vikings that used their dragons, like my brother and Hiccup on occasion, could catch three or four times that. It was all useless. My nets, my lines, my boat, myself. All useless.
I glanced aimlessly into the darkening sky. There wasn't much I could do about that. If only those dragons hadn't come to live with us. We were going against everything our ancestors had created for us. All the weapons and fighting tactics that were passed on through the generations were going to waste. And what good is a viking if there's nothing to fight. What were we supposed to do if there wasn't an enemy for us to attack.
As the sun had yet to show itself, and the air began to grow cooler. Noticing it, I dreaded the coming winter. The cold and snow assail us suddenly and are adamant about leaving soon. So, we shuffle through the months, dreaming of the few rainy, yet warm months.
Noticing the pounding sound of wings, I glared in the direction, wondering who would be stupid enough to come out this far on a dragon. I contemplated on this for a moment, coming up with a decently sized list before I heard my name being called out.
"Atli! Atli! Where are you?" There was no mistaking the sound of Hiccup's voice.
I let a slightly grave sigh loose, "Over here!"
As he was not far away, Hiccup found me quickly. "Come on, you have to get back to shore. There's a huge storm on the way."
I rolled my eyes a bit, it wasn't like a viking had never been caught out at sea during a storm before. I grabbed up my oars and began rowing.
"Let me help you. You won't make it back in time by yourself." With this, I knew there was something going on. It just seemed so unusual. Seeing the rope still tied to the head of my boat, I tossed it up to him before taking up the oars again.
Between the three of us (Well, Toothless and I did all the work), we got to shore quicker than any viking ship I had seen. With my ship tied extra tight to the dock, we started up the ramp. The fog had begun to disperse slightly, and we could walk up easier than it had been to travel down.
As we headed for the mead hall, Hiccup explained, "The elder is having everyone gather together. She thinks this may be the worst storm Berk has seen."
Now, that statement was difficult to believe. I, myself, had seen some pretty monstrous storms in my life. And I knew that the elder had seen many times more. Not to mention that if there is any weather on Berk, it's dreadful.
On our way in, we passed Stoick the Vast. His expression gravely supported Hiccup's information. His eyes were squinted into a glare and his mouth was tucked into a frown. The combination created a deep scowl upon his face.
We closed the door behind us and I shoved my way to a relatively secluded corner. The population of dragons almost out numbered the vikings, and how they all managed to fit into one room together amazed me. The space was horribly cramped, yet all villagers and their pets were accounted for.
Hiccup followed me back while muttering, mostly, to himself. "There must be something wrong. We've had such bad weather recently, but it's too early to be winter." I listened to him mumble on as we found a couple seats.
"Maybe its just a rain storm." I disputed apathetically. Yet, before Hiccup could respond, a large peal of thunder shattered through the hall and strained silence among the people.