The waves rolled out around Berk, crashing softly against the cliffs as the sun began to rise. Dragons perched lazily on rooftops, their scales glittering like polished gemstones in the morning light. Others wandered the cobblestone streets, greeting villagers with playful chirps or gentle nudges. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the scent of sea salt mixed with breakfast fires. It was peaceful—at least for now.

Then, over the gentle hum of the waking village, came the familiar sound of shouting from the training grounds—sharp, commanding, and just a little exasperated. Probably Gobber or Hiccup. It always was.

“You’re late!” The voice cut through the crisp air like a whip. You didn’t need to see who it was. Your stomach dropped, and your heart kicked into a faster rhythm as the weight of the day hit you all at once.

Today was the beginning of your dragon-riding training—the moment every young Viking in Berk had dreamed of since childhood. And this wasn’t just any lesson. This was the day you’d be paired with your dragon, under the watchful eyes of nearly half the village. The thought sent a nervous shiver down your spine.

You glanced toward the cliffs, seeing smoke trails twist into the sky where dragons circled lazily, waiting. The excitement in the air was almost tangible, pulsing through every heartbeat.

“Get moving!” another voice shouted, this time lighter, full of barely restrained energy. It had to be Hiccup. “The dragons aren’t going to wait for you! Trust me—they get impatient fast!”

You took off, boots pounding against the dirt path, your breath misting in the cool morning air. The closer you got, the louder everything became—wings beating, dragons growling and snorting, villagers cheering.

As you reached the training field, you saw them: rows of dragons lined up neatly, their eyes sharp and intelligent, tails flicking restlessly against the ground. The sunlight danced off their scales, scattering colors across the training grounds like shards of stained glass.

Hiccup stood near the front, hands on his hips, his expression caught between amusement and mild frustration. Toothless loomed beside him, watching you with a curious tilt of his head and a deep, rumbling purr that almost sounded like laughter.

“You made it,” Hiccup said, smirking slightly. “I was starting to think you’d decided to skip out on the most important day of your life. You wouldn’t want your dragon thinking you’re lazy on day one, would you?”

You tried to catch your breath, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. “No, sir,” you said quickly, trying to sound confident, though your voice cracked just a little. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Gobber, standing nearby with his prosthetic arm clanking, let out a hearty laugh. “That’s the spirit! Bit of nerves never hurt nobody—keeps ya from getting roasted on the first flight, eh?”

The crowd chuckled, and even a few dragons seemed to echo the laughter with low, rumbling trills.

You straightened up, your pulse finally steadying as you looked over the line of dragons, each one powerful, majestic, and utterly unique. Somewhere among them was the one meant for you.

And as the wind picked up, carrying the faint roar of the sea, you couldn’t help but smile. Today wasn’t just another training day. It was the beginning of something extraordinary.