“North of Berk, the sea has gone silent--and something ancient is listening beneath the ice.”⏾

btw i pretend the 3rd movie doesnt exist and this takes place like months and months after the second movies ending

Pfp by fistelarrow on pinterest !! >_<

opening message;
The merchant ship had arrived at dawn, its hull draped in frost as if it had sailed straight out of a blizzard. The crew looked half-starved, half-frozen, and wholly terrified—men who’d faced storms, pirates, and sea dragons without blinking now refused to leave the dock until the sun was high. They spoke in low, tight voices, glancing north every few seconds as though afraid the sea itself might rise up behind them. And their stories... Their stories were the kind that changed a room’s temperature as soon as they were spoken.

A silent ocean. No birds. No fish. No dragons.

A storm circling a single point on the horizon.

A boundary beyond which nothing living dared cross.

⏾

Hiccup stood near the hearth, arms folded tight against the chill. His breath misted in front of him as the others gathered around the long table, each wearing the same uneasy expression twisting in his chest.

Valka laid another sanctuary tablet down with delicate, almost reverent care. “These inscriptions... they’re the same signs the ancient dragon-worshippers warned of,” she said softly. “The Fainaru Storm. A sign that something vast stirs in the far north.”

Fishlegs swallowed hard, nudging his glasses up his nose. “A-and the storm behavior the sailors described matches the old texts almost exactly. Circling wind currents, a fixed point of origin, abrupt wildlife disappearance—classic precursor patterns.” His voice cracked. “Classic terrifying precursor patterns.”

Snotlout sat slouched in his chair, trying for bravado, but his tapping foot betrayed him. “Okay, sure, creepy ocean, no fish, spooky fog. But we don’t know it’s some ancient mega-dragon. Maybe it’s just... winter. Happens every year. Okay, maybe not this bad, but—look, dragons get jumpy before winter all the time.”

The twins were unusually quiet. Ruffnut sat with her chin in her palms, staring at a sketch of the white titan carved into stone. “I like that it glows,” she murmured. “Means it’s stylish.”

Tuffnut rolled his eyes towards his sister. “A fashionable ice overlord is still an overlord, Ruff. And overlords rarely want hugs.”

Astrid leaned forward, hands braced on the table, a small frown tugging at her brow. “It’s not the storm itself that worries me. It’s the fact that the dragons won’t fly near the border. Stormfly gets tense if I even mention the Frozen No-Flight Zone.”

Hiccup nodded slowly. “Toothless does the same. It’s... instinctive. I’ve never seen him react like that.”

Gobber grunted as he unrolled a brittle archival scroll. “Aye, and ye all heard what the sailors said: the sea goin’ still as glass, birds vanishin’, dragons refusin’ to fly overhead. Like the world’s breathin’ shallow... afraid to make noise.”

Valka brushed frost off the carved image of a towering white figure with glowing rings. “The sanctuary’s murals depict this creature surrounded by kneeling dragons. Even Bewilderbeasts bent before it.” She spoke the names as though they carried a weight. “The Saidau Monarch. The walker of Ice. The Purge of Storms..”

Fishlegs squeaked softly. “It predates everything we know. Red Deaths, Bewilderbeasts—everything. It’s older than recorded dragon history.”

Silence fell. Even the crackling fire seemed to hesitate.

Hiccup exhaled slowly, then dragged a map to the table’s center. “And then there’s the hunter faction. Their ship sailed into the same waters weeks ago.” His finger tapped the northern fogs. “No one’s seen them since.” He seemed to sigh out his words, clearly diminished.

Astrid let out a thin breath. “So we’ve got hunters chasing something they clearly don’t understand... and an ancient titan possibly waking under the ice.”

“Perfect,” Snotlout muttered. “Just perfect. As if we didn’t have enough problems with the freeze and no food.”

Gobber snorted, adjusting his prosthetic hand with a clang. “Or—now hear me out—they might’ve just been well murdered already,” he grumbled. “Sailin’ straight into arctic fog lookin’ for a myth bigger than a mountain? Takes a special kind o’ idiot to try that. Wouldn’t be surprised if the ice swallowed ’em whole before the titan even needed to lift a wing.”

Snotlout grimaced, Fishlegs let out a small, horrified squeak, and even the twins paused mid–side conversation. The brief, uneasy silence that followed hung thick in the hall, the crackle of the fire filling the space Gobber’s bluntness left behind.

Valka cleared her throat softly, drawing their attention back to the ancient tablets laid out before her. Valka stared at the ring-marked titan on the stone. “The Purge of Storms doesn’t mark an awakening,” she whispered. “It marks awareness.”

Outside, a low, muffled vibration trembled through the air—not thunder, not wind. Something deeper. Something that made the dragons outside shift and whine in their sleep.

Toothless answered with a low growl—a warning, ancient and instinctive.

Hiccup’s eyes squeezed shut, contemplating everything...

He looked at his friends, at their pale faces lit by the wavering firelight, and felt the entire hall leaning into an uneasy stillness.

“We’re facing two threats; a hunter faction we don’t understand... and something older than any dragon alive.”

The shadows flickered along the walls, stretching like long fingers as the fire dimmed.

“And whatever lies beyond that Frozen No-Flight Zone... It’s not just waking.”

The hall seemed to listen.

The cold seemed to deepen.

Even the dragons outside fell silent.

“...It’s listening.”


#2 updates beside initial creation