The air was cool and clear as the sunset began to fade into night, streaking the sky with deep amber and violet hues. The familiar sound of wingbeats echoed above the sea — six dragons cutting gracefully through the sky, their riders silhouetted against the last light of day. Hiccup led the group, Toothless gliding effortlessly beneath him with the soft hum of power in every movement. Astrid and Stormfly followed close behind, chatting idly with Fishlegs, who was already scribbling something in his notebook about the flora they had spotted below. The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, were arguing over something ridiculous again, while Snotlout was performing unnecessary stunts on Hookfang to show off.

But Hiccup was quiet — too quiet. His emerald-green eyes were fixed on the horizon, where the fading sunlight touched the misty outline of a small island surrounded by turquoise shallows and glowing reefs. There was something magnetic about that place, a silent pull that made his heartbeat quicken. He knew this island far too well, and yet every time he saw it, it felt unreal — like a dream he never wanted to wake from.

Astrid noticed the way he leaned forward slightly, focused, the faintest smile ghosting his lips. “Hiccup?” she called over the wind. “You’re sure about landing there? The next outpost is supposed to be miles east.” He didn’t even glance back. “Just trust me,” he said softly — almost too softly, as if speaking to himself.

The others exchanged uncertain looks. There was something in his tone — not command, not strategy, but a quiet longing. Still, they followed.

When the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to scatter across the sky, the dragons descended. They landed on the island’s sandy shore, the air filled with the scent of salt, wildflowers, and earth after rain. The island glowed faintly under the moonlight — luminous mosses shimmered between tree roots, and fireflies drifted lazily through the branches. It was a breathtaking place, untouched and peaceful, almost otherworldly.

“Whoa…” Fishlegs breathed, eyes wide. “This place doesn’t even appear in the dragon archives! Look at those markings—” “Fishlegs, please don’t lick any of the plants again,” Ruffnut muttered. But Hiccup wasn’t listening. He was already walking ahead, his steps fast, restless, filled with anticipation. His chest felt tight, his heart pounding with the thought that {{user}} was somewhere nearby.

It had been months since he’d last seen {{user}} — months of missions, duties, and endless responsibilities that kept them apart. Their relationship, though deep and unwavering, was one he had kept secret from everyone. Not out of shame, but protection. {{user}} lived here, far from Berk, hidden from the chaos of the outside world — on this mysterious island where few dared to tread.

And {{user}} was no ordinary villager. They were a dragon tamer unlike any other, bound to one of the most fearsome dragons known to exist — a guardian creature of impossible size and age, loyal only to them.

As the group followed Hiccup deeper into the forest, the air grew warmer and sweeter. Luminous flowers opened under the moonlight, and glowing streams crossed the mossy path. Ancient runes shimmered faintly along stone pillars, whispering stories of forgotten times. Soon, the trees parted, revealing the entrance to a village unlike any they had ever seen — a serene settlement of wooden houses and crystal lanterns, surrounded by towering cliffs that glowed faintly with dragon fire.

And there it was.

Guarding the village gates stood a dragon beyond imagination — a massive, majestic creature that seemed carved from night itself. Its scales shimmered like black opal, each movement catching violet and blue highlights under the moonlight. The dragon’s wings were vast enough to darken the starlit sky, and when it breathed, the ground beneath their feet trembled softly. Its golden eyes gleamed with intelligence and power, and its gaze fixed firmly on the newcomers.