Chief
"Chief! The dragon—it's back!!" A woman's scream tore through the village, raw and panicked.
I shot up from my seat like a coiled spring, heart pounding. "Where?" I barked, already sprinting out of the village hall. Behind me, I heard my father's heavy boots thunder against the wood as he followed.
By the time I reached the village square, chaos had already erupted.
Hiccup and Toothless stood defensively in the clearing, but something was wrong—Toothless was limping. The prosthetic fin Hiccup had built for him… it was charred, nearly burned to ash. They were cornered.
And rising from the earth, tunneling like a white demon through stone and soil, was the Whispering Death.
A monstrous, white serpentine terror with teeth like saws and eyes that burned like blood-red coals. Its body twisted through the ground in a blur of pale, armored scales, and with a deafening screech, it erupted into the air.
My blood boiled. My instincts roared.
I dug my heels in and channeled every ounce of power into my legs.
BOOM!
A sonic crack echoed as I launched myself into the sky like a meteor, soaring high above the battle. Time slowed. The Whispering Death thrashed below, unaware.
I clenched my fist tight, heat spiraling from my core and into my arm.
Then I brought it down.
CRACK!
My fist smashed into the top of its skull like a divine hammer. The impact cratered the earth, sending debris flying in all directions. The Whispering Death slammed into the ground with an earth-shattering boom, stone and dirt exploding upward.
I landed beside it, my boots grinding into the torn earth, smoke curling around me.
It stirred, groaning, and then slowly rose—shaking off the blow with a hateful shriek. Its red eyes locked onto mine.
I narrowed my gaze and let loose the full force of my Dragon Presence.
A fiery aura erupted from me, oppressive and primal. The very air warped with heat. Even the dragons nearby fell quiet. The Whispering Death froze, trembling for a heartbeat.
Then it roared.
And lunged.
SWOOSH!
I slipped right, narrowly dodging its snapping jaws, and countered with a fierce uppercut to the side of its face.
WHAM!
It flew back, crashing through a cart and plowing through a stone wall like it was made of paper. I didn't hesitate—I charged again, leaping through the dust and hammering it with a flurry of blows.
BOOM. BAM. CRACK.
The village square rang with thunderous echoes as I pummeled the beast into the ground again and again. But it refused to fall.
With a wild screech, it flared its massive wings and launched into the sky, hovering above us. Then—its jaws opened, and fire exploded from its mouth in a blazing stream.
I didn't move.
The flames engulfed me in a raging inferno. Villagers screamed. Dragons flinched.
But I stood my ground.
Then… I devoured the fire.
The blazing torrent curled into tendrils and streamed into my mouth, absorbed into my core like molten air being vacuumed into a furnace. The flames vanished, leaving only scorched ground—and stunned silence.
Even the Whispering Death hesitated, wings twitching midair.
I smirked.
And then roared.
"FIRE DRAGON ROAR!!"
A massive beam of searing flame erupted from my mouth, streaking into the sky and tearing through the clouds like a blade. A massive hole burned through the heavens, sunlight pouring through the scar like golden fire.
The Whispering Death froze. It stared down at me—shaking.
It knew.
It knew I could've ended it.
But I didn't.
With a snarl, it turned and fled, disappearing beyond the cliffs. Beaten. Humbled. Alive.
For a moment, the village was silent.
Then the crowd erupted—cheering, shouting, roaring with celebration. People swarmed around me. Even the dragons lowered their heads in respect.
"Daddy!! That was amazing!" Moon's voice cut through the crowd, pure and bright.
I turned just in time to catch her as she leapt into my arms.
"Of course," I said with a grin, spinning her around. "Your daddy's the strongest there is."
She looked at me, eyes gleaming. "Then… Can I have a soda?"
I blinked.
"You little brat."
"Just kidding!" she giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck.
Sigh.
"You really know how to raise my blood pressure," I muttered, holding her close.
"Son."
I turned to see my father approaching, his expression unreadable.
He cleared his throat. "I think you're ready to become chief."
…
"What?! Like hell I am—I just got back!!"
He chuckled, then placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Erik… You and your brother are the greatest joys of my life. I missed out on too many years with you both, and for that, I'm sorry. But I've fought my whole life—and now, you're stronger than me. Smarter. Better. You have what it takes to lead us into a future we can all be proud of."
His voice cracked—and tears slipped down his cheeks.
"Dad…" I whispered, my own eyes stinging.
"Daddy, grandpa's crying," Moon said, tugging at my tunic. "Can't you just be chief already? He looks so pitiful."
I glanced between her and my father.
Sigh.
"…Fine. I'll do it."
My father suddenly brightened, wiping his tears. "Finally! I don't have to be chief anymore!" he bellowed, laughing like a madman.
Then he gave Moon a high five. "Thank you, Muffin. You're the real champ."
He scooped her onto his shoulder as she laughed joyfully.
I blinked. A vein bulged on my forehead.
"Y-you tricked me," I growled.
They both turned to me in perfect unison.
"Nu-uh!" they said innocently.
"Traitors!!" I cried, clutching my chest in dramatic pain.
They burst into laughter—along with the rest of the villagers and even the dragons.
One Hour Later…
It was just me, Moon, and Dad at the table. Hiccup had left earlier on one of his "quick" adventures.
Sigh. "I still can't believe I fell for that."
Dad grinned. "Maybe I tricked you. But I meant what I said. You're ready."
"You really think so?" I asked, quieter this time.
He nodded. "Absolutely. You showed me today exactly what kind of leader you'll be."
"…It's only been an hour," I said, raising an eyebrow.
"…"
Cough. "Well, that's more than enough."
Sigh. "Okay, okay…"
"Good. Because the ceremony's next week."
"…WHAT?! WHY SO FAST?!" I shouted, nearly flipping the table.
He just kept laughing.
Sigh.
One Week Later
"Put that over there—and this over here!" my father barked, his voice cutting through the clamor of the village square.
Sigh.
This was really happening. I was actually becoming chief—so soon, too soon.
The village had been bustling with preparations for the upcoming ceremony all week. Colorful banners fluttered in the wind, and long tables were being set up for the feast. Even Hiccup had returned for the occasion, dragging Toothless behind him like old times. The dragons circled overhead, roaring and playing as if it were just another day. Then again, I couldn't really blame them—Vikings were always rowdy, and today was no different.
I sat off to the side, watching the flurry of activity. My thoughts were a mess of nerves, disbelief, and... something else. Pressure?
"Erik! What are you doing just sitting there? Go and get ready!" my father suddenly shouted, giving me a stern glare.
Sigh.
I pushed myself up from the chair, brushing off my trousers. As I made my way toward my house, the villagers greeted me warmly, flashing toothy grins and throwing in the occasional backslap. I returned each gesture with a smile of my own, even if it felt a little forced. Their excitement was real, but my heart hadn't quite caught up yet.
When I finally reached home, I stopped in my tracks.
There, in the middle of the room, was the moon—my daughter—being utterly spoiled by a circle of Viking women. They fussed over her hair, adjusted the frills on her dress, and handed her sweet after sweet like she was the chieftain instead of me.
Tic.
I felt a vein throb on my forehead. This little brat… here I was, practically drowning in anxiety, and she was basking in luxury like a pampered princess.
She noticed me immediately. Her eyes lit up and she ran straight into my arms with a squeal of joy. I caught her, held her close, and let out a long sigh.
How could I stay mad at her?
"How's my little muffin doing?" I asked, trying to match her enthusiasm.
She beamed. "Everyone is so nice! They give me all the treats I want, and look—look at this beautiful dress they gave me!"
She spun in my arms, the hem of her dress fluttering like butterfly wings.
"Daddy, do I look beautiful?" she asked, eyes wide with anticipation.
"Of course you do, muffin," I said, smiling. "You're the most beautiful girl in the whole village."
"Really?" she asked, peering up at me, unconvinced.
"I'd never lie to my little muffin," I said firmly. "If anyone says otherwise, I'll beat them up."
She giggled, then pouted. "Daddy, that's nice and all... but I'm not little!"
"Oh? My mistake," I teased, giving her a little bounce in my arms. "I'm sorry, not-so-little muffin."
"Daddy!!" she squealed, squirming with laughter.
One Hour Later
The square was silent.
Every villager stood gathered under the pale orange glow of the setting sun, their voices hushed, their excitement held tight behind solemn eyes. Even the dragons were still, perched atop rooftops and watchtowers, watching with quiet curiosity. The air buzzed with unspoken tension, reverence, and a touch of awe.
I glanced at my father. He met my eyes and gave a single, firm nod.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodded back, and stepped forward toward the center of the square. Every footfall echoed like a drumbeat in my ears. My heartbeat followed it, loud and steady.
Gothi stood waiting, her eyes sharp as ever beneath her cloak of furs and feathers. Without a word, I lowered myself onto one knee before her, bowing my head slightly in respect.
She moved slowly, deliberately. Her eyes scanned the crowd, as if to remind them all that this moment was not just a tradition—but a rite, a bond older than any of us.
Then, she dipped her fingers into a stone bowl filled with what looked like thick black paint. It shimmered slightly in the torchlight, catching shadows and gleaming like obsidian. She rubbed her fingers together, then pressed them to my forehead.
Her touch was cool.
With careful precision, she drew a symbol—a spiral of lines that marked leadership, duty, and the weight of generations. When she finished, she leaned back and gave me a small nod.
Gobber stepped forward with a grin wide enough to split his face. He raised his hands to the crowd.
"A new chief has come!" he bellowed.
The villagers erupted with cheer.
"ERIK! ERIK! ERIK!"
They chanted my name over and over, their voices rising into the sky like a war cry and a song all at once. I rose slowly to my feet, my breath catching in my throat. The chants surrounded me, pressing in like a tide. For the first time, it truly hit me:
I was chief.
Ding.
A familiar, subtle sound echoed in the back of my mind. A system notification.
But I ignored it.
Not now. Not tonight.
Instead, I stepped forward into the crowd as they surged toward me—clapping me on the back, raising mugs of mead, some even hoisting me up with a roar of celebration. Laughter and joy filled the air. Fireworks lit the sky. Dragons howled in delight.
And amidst it all, I smiled—not as a warrior, not as a son—but as the leader of this village.
My village.
My people.
Later That Night
The fires had burned low, casting flickering shadows across the emptying square. The music had faded, replaced by soft snoring, scattered laughter, and the occasional hiccup from someone who had too much mead.
I looked around at the chaos left behind—collapsed benches, half-eaten platters, mugs rolling aimlessly on the ground—and my mouth twitched.
Everyone except me and Hiccup had already passed out, deep into whatever dreams mead and exhaustion could conjure.
Sigh.
"I'll need to set some rules for future celebrations," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "This is borderline criminal."
As I stood in the quiet, the cool night breeze brushing against my face, I heard footsteps approaching. I turned slightly and saw Hiccup walking toward me, hands in his pockets, eyes thoughtful.
He stopped a few feet away, rocking on his heels. "Hey, Erik… since you're chief now, do you think you could—" he hesitated, then asked plainly, "—let me roam the archipelago?"
I looked at him for a moment, really looked. He wasn't the small, anxious boy he used to be. He'd grown—not just taller, but stronger in presence, in purpose. And yet… he still had that same restless fire in his eyes.
I stayed quiet, letting the wind speak for a few seconds.
"It's extremely dangerous," I finally said. "Even if the chances of what happened to me happening to you are low… that chance still exists."
"I understand," he said, barely above a whisper. His gaze dropped to the ground, but he didn't turn away.
Sigh.
"But I know I can't stop you," I admitted. "You'd go, permission or not. So… I'll help you prepare. Thoroughly."
He looked up, surprised. A slow smile tugged at his lips. "Thanks, Erik. I knew you'd understand."
I shook my head and groaned dramatically. "Go away now, you little bastard. You've already pissed me off more than anyone else today."
He laughed, the kind of genuine, light-hearted laugh that only someone like Hiccup could pull off. "You're the best angry big brother a guy could ask for."
As he walked away, the stars overhead shimmered in the dark sky, and for a brief moment, I felt the weight of leadership settle a little lighter on my shoulders.
Tomorrow would come with new responsibilities, new dangers, and new decisions.
But for tonight, under the stars and among friends, I allowed myself a small, tired smile.