The great mead hall of Berk echoed with roaring laughter, clinking tankards, and the occasional belch. Firelight danced across the wooden beams overhead as Trader Johann held his mug of mead, seated proudly atop a barrel with a ring of young Vikings hanging on his every word.
"And just as the sandstorm swallowed the caravan whole," Johann declared with exaggerated hand gestures, "I leapt from the back of a giant turtle ox, tossed a bag of emeralds into the wind, and distracted the serpent long enough for us to escape!"
Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, though whether they believed him or simply loved a good story remained unclear.
Gobber, leaning against a beam with a leg up on a stool, smirked.
"Turtle ox, eh? What's next, talking dragons?"
Johann grinned and raised his cup in a toast. "I've seen stranger things, my friend."
Moments later, he patted his belly and stood, brushing crumbs from his cloak.
"Alas, duty calls. I must make way before the tide turns against me," he said with a theatrical bow. He turned to leave, then paused.
From the corner of his eye, just past the smoke curling near the rafters, he thought he saw a silhouette shift near the window. He blinked, and then it was gone.
His brow furrowed. Then he gave Gobber a casual wave. "I'll be going then."
"Off ye go then, Trader of Tall Tales," Gobber chuckled. "Watch yerself out there."
Johann stepped out into the cool evening air. The village of Berk was quieter now, with only a few torch lights flickering in the streets and the distant squawk of a raven on a rooftop. The path to the docks wound along the cliffs, slick with sea spray.
He walked alone.
The hem of his robe fluttered in the breeze, and the only sounds were the soft crunch of gravel beneath his boots and the creak of rigging from ships rocking in the harbor. He reached into his satchel, pulling out a scroll to double-check his shipping manifest.
Then he stopped. The hairs on the back of his neck rose.
He looked behind him—nothing.
He spun around. Still nothing.
"Hmm…"
He continued on, this time a little quicker. As he passed a row of fishing boats, a wooden sign squeaked on its rusty hinge.
"Must be the wind," he muttered to himself.
At last, he reached his ship, the Silver Squid, a modest but sturdy vessel with patched sails and a carved figurehead of a grinning kraken. Lanterns glowed faintly from the deck.
~huu
He exhaled in relief and climbed aboard. The crew had prepared the ship for departure, and the tide was just right.
He gave a mighty stretch as his arms cracking.
"Ahhh, finally no more Berkians."
Johann then made his way to the rope securing the boat to the dock. As he began to untie it, he remained blissfully unaware of the figures creeping in the shadows behind the dock crates.
One by one, they slipped aboard, using the motion of the waves and the creaking timbers to mask their steps. They moved fast and low, clambering over barrels and diving below deck like seals returning to their den.
The last to board, a girl with braided hair and a deadly axe, paused just long enough to glance at Johann's back before vanishing into the shadows below.
Johann stood, rope now untied to the post, and rubbed his eyes.
"I swear I saw something… again."
_________
Back on the cliffside overlooking Berk's shoreline…
Lucian stood at the edge, sea breeze brushing against his face. The village lights flickered faintly behind him, but he didn't look back. With Simba tucked under one arm, he pulled out a small, spiraled shell from his pouch.
The Dragon Conch.
He held it to his lips and blew.
The sound was low and haunting, like a call echoing through the fabric of the ocean itself. Far below, something answered with a deep and resonant roar.
Lucian smiled faintly.
Then he stepped forward off the cliff and dropped like a stone into the sea.
The moment his body hit the water, the transformation began.
Ripples of light shimmered around him. His legs merged, skin turning smooth and silver-blue. His feet elongated into a powerful tailfin, flaring with translucent membranes. His eyes adjusted to the pressure and darkness of the deep.
By the time he emerged fully underwater, Lucian was no longer a man with legs but a Tideborn cutting through the sea like he belonged there.
Simba popped into the water beside him with a playful splash, his fluffy mane puffing underwater like a halo. Lucian swam to him and gestured forward.
"Let's go, Simba. Keep close.
ROAR!!
From the shadows, a massive form approached.
Scauldy.
The dragon parted the currents with his sheer bulk, his snout glowing faintly in the dark. Lucian nodded and mounted the dragon's upper back, then nestled Simba between his arms.
Then they dove.
Together, the trio slipped into the black, trailing the distant lantern glow of Trader Johann's ship.
______
High above, where only the wind and dragons roamed, a shadow darker than night rode the air currents.
Toothless soared silently, his sleek black scales reflecting almost no light. He was nearly invisible against the dark canopy of stars, his wings slicing through the night. Hiccup sat comfortably in the custom saddle as his gaze is fixed downward as they followed the ship's steady progress.
He leaned forward and gently scratched behind Toothless' ear ridge.
"Well, bud… looks like we're on track," he murmured. "And if what Johann said is true, we might meet someone just like you."
Toothless let out a curious croon, then a soft whuff of breath.
The Silver Squid drifted slowly below, its lanterns casting halos of golden light across the waves. But then—
Toothless tensed.
His head turned abruptly, ears flicking, nostrils flaring.
"What is it, bud?" Hiccup asked, immediately straightening in the saddle.
The dragon growled low, eyes narrowing as he tilted his wings and dipped slightly lower, flying in tighter circles above the ship.
Hiccup reached for his satchel and pulled out a compact spyglass, scanning the water below.
The ship itself looked fine. But then…
Beneath the Silver Squid, the water rippled unnaturally. The surface was dark and calm, but a subtle disturbance moved just beneath it—large, swift, and stealthy.
"What the…?" Hiccup whispered.
He adjusted the lens and tried to focus in on the shape, but the moonless sky betrayed him. All he could see was a faint blur—something long and serpentine, gliding parallel to the hull like a predator stalking its prey.
His brow furrowed.
It wasn't a whale. Too narrow. And not a shark either. It moved with fluid intelligence, weaving like a living shadow around the ship's underside.
"That's not normal…"
Toothless growled again, twitching his tail like he was preparing to dive.
"No, bud," Hiccup whispered, lowering the spyglass. "Not yet. Let's not alert it. Whatever that is… it's not attacking. Just following."
Toothless gave a reluctant snort but stayed in flight, gliding silently above the masts.
But neither of them knew.
What they were seeing wasn't a sea monster.
It was Lucian gliding beneath the water on Scauldy's back, tail flicking in rhythmic motion, eyes glowing faintly as he watched the ship from below.
And beside him, Simba swam in tight formation, small but fierce.
______
The ship eased away from the dock, sails catching the wind. Johann handed the helm over to a young sailor and stepped down the final rung of the ladder with a grunt, stretching his back as he glanced around his cargo.
"Hmm... something feels off," he muttered to himself, running a hand over a stack of sealed chests. He moved along the narrow aisle between supply crates, humming softly.
Then—he stopped.
A soft shuffle.
Barely audible, but clear.
His brow furrowed as he turned his head. Nothing.
He continued on, stepping over a coiled rope.
~rustle
Another sound. This time, a muffled whisper.
Something… or someone... was in here.
His eyes narrowed. He turned to a large pile of crates covered in thick canvas, some blankets carelessly thrown atop as if meant to look untouched.
His genial smile faded ever so slightly.
He took another step forward, slower this time. The warmth in his expression vanished. His eyes sharpened. With a casual flick of his wrist, a concealed dagger slid smoothly from a hidden sheath beneath his sleeve and into his palm. The metal glinted faintly under the swaying lantern light.
His grip tightened.
He moved toward the large crate stack covered in cloth as his footsteps silent and deliberate. Then he heard it:
"Hah… looks like our plan to infiltrate worked," a voice whispered, smug and proud.
"Would you shut up?! You're gonna get us caught!" another voice snapped sharply.
"Isn't this… illegal?" came a soft, uncertain mumble.
"Only if we're caught," a sly voice responded with a hushed laugh.
"Yes, sis is right," another agreed, followed by a faint thump.
"Oh, would you BOTH shut up!" a final voice hissed, irritated.
"Shhh! Someone's comin—" someone tried to say something, only to be quickly muffled by what sounded like someone slapping a hand over his mouth.
The dagger remained steady in Johann's hand as he stepped forward.
In one clean motion, he gripped the cloth and flung it aside.
There, tangled in a nest of ropes and supply bags, were the five Vikings. A tangle of arms, legs, weapons, and a mess of guilty expressions.
Wide eyes blinked up at him in frozen panic.
Then he paused.
And in the span of a heartbeat, the sharpness in his gaze disappeared. The dagger vanished back into his sleeve with practiced grace.
"Oh," Johann said with a nervous chuckle, shoulders hunching slightly as his familiar, timid persona returned. "My, my… what a surprise. Ahem… may I ask why all of you are here?"
Silence.
Not a sound.
Then—
Tuffnut cleared his throat, grinned sheepishly, and gave a half-hearted wave. "Field trip?"
Astrid groaned and facepalmed.
Johann exhaled through his nose and muttered, "Of course it is."