(Normal pov)

The blizzard outside had subsided for the time being, but the blistering cold crept into Hiccup's very bones as he cut down those he held close to his heart, the ones whom he had fought, drank, and bled with many times throughout the years. As he gazed at their pale faces, a sympathetic chuckle left his throat when he realized that they once rejected and abused him, as did many on Berk. But after the battle of Helheim's Gate, that all changed and Hiccup was finally accepted for saving the Hairy Hooligans from destruction.

Look where that has brought them.

His friends, his clan, and the woman he loved were dead because he believed he could change the mind of a madman.

Tears of regret and self-loathing streamed down Hiccup's cheeks as he then cut down his mother and took hold of her as she fell from the ceiling. Her beautiful face was deathly pale, bruised, and bloodied from the abuse Drago had inflicted upon her. He remembered seeing that vile brute taking her forcibly again and again while taking great pleasure in humiliating her in such a barbaric manner.

Pressing his forehead against his mother's, Hiccup sobbed and cradled her close as he croaked out. "I... I just got you back, only to lose you within a matter of days," holding onto her tighter, he then murmured against her hairline. "May you enjoy Valhalla with my father, you two will have a proper reunion within the halls of the Æsir." Placing a kiss on Valka's forehead, Hiccup then carried her bridal style while approaching the wagon that held his friends, Gobber, and Astrid.

It was time to put them to rest properly.

Hiccup had gathered the bodies that he held close to his heart and built funeral pyres on board a longboat that was still tied off in the harbor. After gathering each of his loved ones' belongings from the shattered remains of their respective clans' huts, he set them beside the corpses so that they could take what made them who they were into Valhalla.

While approaching Astrid's pyre, Hiccup had placed her battle-axe in her hands and set her shield beside her as well. He then took hold of the betrothal pendant that he had gifted to her back at Dragons Edge and considered placing it around her neck, but he hesitated. Closing his eyes, he remembered their first real kiss as a couple back then, how they grew closer together, and nearly lost her at the hands of Viggo Grimborn.

"Are you really going to sacrifice your future? All the wonderful years you have ahead of you for that?"

He nearly lost Astrid the day the Grimborn Hunters and their Shellfire attacked the Edge, they had come for the Dragon Eye and when Hiccup chose Astrid over what belonged to his deceased adversary, he swore to himself that he wouldn't become so obsessed with defeating an enemy that he shut out those he held close to his heart.

But now his heart had been ripped out of his chest by Drago Bludvist, a rabid animal wearing a mans skin.

Placing a hand on Astrid's forehead, Hiccup leaned down and pressed a kiss against her lips, and nodded to himself. "If there's anyone who deserves Valhalla, it's you Milady," a laugh escaped his throat and he nodded more firmly. "You're going to feast with the Allfather Himself, and his legions of Valkyries. I... I wish I could join you, but I can't. Not yet anyway. Know this, we will see each other again, I promise you that." It took great strength to leave the ship, but when he had said his share of tearful farewells to those he loved, he disembarked from the ship and untied it from the dock pier and let it drift out to sea. He then took a bow and lit the tip of the arrow in fire and aimed towards the ship, he then let the arrow fly and watched with bated breath as it struck its mark beautifully. Soon, the longboat was engulfed in flames, and he then fell to his knees and looked to the gloomy heavens with tears swimming in his eyes.

Why was he, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the only one to live? Out of everyone on Berk, why did he manage to live through the ice and awaken to suffer a fate far worse than death? Why did they ALL have to die? Why?!

Taking out Astrid's betrothal pendant, Hiccup placed it around his neck and took hold of it in his hand, and squeezed. Looking back out towards the now sinking ship that held his loved ones, Hiccup's sorrow and grief suddenly dissipated with burning hot rage that burned throughout his veins; Drago had taken everything from him— his parents, his friends, people, and Astrid in his pursuit of power and domination. Hiccup's pulse started to quicken, his nostrils flared up and down, and his unoccupied hand clenched into a tight fist.

Gathering himself up, he stormed back to the village and burst inside his home and gathered a satchel, and began packing dried foods— honey roasted almonds, yak jerky, and blueberries. He then packed what little clothing was inside his room, most of his home was destroyed by Bewilderbeast ice and he was fortunate to have salvaged what he could from the rubble.

Once he made his way back outside, he could see the pack of Scuttleclaws eyeing him with both curiosity and worry, but he ignored the baby dragons for the time being and he then raced back up the stairs leading to Gothi's hut to collect potions, medicine, and ingredients to make various poisons. Before making his way outside of the hut, Hiccup performed a blood sacrifice to the god of vengeance— Víðarr. While approaching the table that Gothi used to perform her sacrifices to the gods, Hiccup took a knife and cut his right palm, Hiccup hissed in pain and allowed the blood to seep into an empty bowl and bowed his head and uttered his oath.

"With this blood, I swear to you on my sacred arm ring, Víðarr, god of vengeance that I will not rest until those who ravaged my home will suffer. I will find Drago Bludvist and all the murderers who follow him and see them drown in an ocean of their own blood."

He then took the bowl of his blood and poured it over a fire and the flames roared to life, blasting Hiccup with a wave of heat. But the heat that he felt paled in compared to the fires burning through his veins. He would hunt down Drago like the animal he is, he and his army for the rest of his days. He would hunt them ALL down. Raising his head, Hiccup then unleashed a roar of raw anger, sorrow, hurt, and the beginnings of madness. He was broken beyond repair. The shattered mind of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III required only one thing now; blood. The blood of Drago Bludvist, the blood of his pet Bewilderbeast, the blood of his whole army which had raped, pillaged and slaughtered the people of Berk without compassion or mercy. Hiccup would find them and he would send them to the depths of Hel.

Hiccup then cauterized his wound on his palm and made a healing paste and applied it to his hand, and then wrapped it in a clean cloth. Once he had gathered what he needed from Gothi's hut, he left and descended the stairs and was greeted by the Scuttleclaws who surrounded him and nuzzled into him while giving worried coos. Gently, but firmly pushing them away from him, Hiccup made his way back to where he was frozen in ice and found the disemboweled carcass of Toothless, which was being devoured by a flock of crows. Shooing away the birds who all cawed in annoyance at being interrupted while feasting on flesh, Hiccup then fell to his knees, he placed a hand on his dragon's head and winced at how cold he was. He always remembered Toothless was always warm to the touch, but the Night Fury could no longer provide such warmth.

Regretfully, Hiccup steeled his nerves as he skinned the scales Toothless had on his body, he would need the dragon-proof scales to protect himself from fire. It made Hiccup sick, doing this to his best friend, but the dark side of his mind told him that the Night Fury was dead and that he couldn't feel anything and that the real monsters who killed him are roaming free out in the world. Once Hiccup had flayed off the scales off of Toothless' carcass, he then made his way to Gobber's smithy and got to work on melting the scales down and applying them to his leather armor and prosthetic leg so that he would be impervious to fire. Taking hold of his helmet, he applied the molted down scales on his helmet as well, until his armor shined sleek ebony. Satisfied with the results, Hiccup placed his helmet over his head and then went into the back of the smithy to recover his Gronckle iron shield and strapped it across his torso. He also took a bow and a quiver full of arrows, as well as throwing knives. Reaching for Inferno, he replaced the empty cartridge of Zippleback gas and placed another inside the hilt of his blade before strapping it to his right armor-clad thigh.

He then made sure that the thick, black bear fur cloak around his shoulders was tightly fastened before making his way outside and then made his way to the store houses and prayed that there was some fish in there for the Scuttleclaws to have before they would leave. As he opened the doors, he groaned in frustration to find that every scrap of food was taken. Slamming the doors, Hiccup approached the Scuttleclaw he had ridden and held a hand out to it, the baby pressed its snout against his palm and purred lightly as Hiccup caressed its chin delicately. Sighing heavily, Hiccup looked towards the horizon and knew that his quest of vengeance would most likely take him outside of Scandinavia, he would truly explore the world for the first time.

Though he wish they were under different circumstances.

"Alright you guys, there's nothing left for us here," he said to the group of Scuttleclaws as they eyed him with curiosity. "Our fate now leads beyond Berk, beyond Scandinavia itself. Let's go." He then climbed on top of the dark blue Scuttleclaw and patted its neck gently. "Go." he murmured out, and the dragon took to the sky, along with the rest of the Scuttleclaws.

Hiccup turned around and gave one last look at his home, a whirlwind of emotions swirled within his mind; so much had happened to him on that island— he was an outcast who was scorned and treated like a thrall for fifteen years, he had proven himself worthy in the eyes of his father and people after defeating the Red Death and all the threats that had followed after they had bonded with dragons, he was loved and adored by his people who were eager to see him take up the mantle of chief when his time would come.

But his future on Berk had ended.

The madman who had ripped away his future was still out there and if Drago wasn't stopped, the world would be forced to suffer and die because of Drago's madness.

Hiccup was going to make sure that wouldn't happen.

All his life, Hiccup sought to prove himself worthy in the eyes of his father and people, and he accomplished this. But now he was determined to strike Drago and his followers from the shores of the living. He had seen what those foreigners had done to his people and those he loved, their suffering and deaths had left a seeing brand on his minds eye. The enemy he would fight alone didn't deserved to faced with honor, Hiccup would do whatever it took to kill these people and bring his people some form of rest.

Nodding lightly, Hiccup then turned back in front of him and looked towards the horizon. The journey ahead of him was going to be long, exhausting, bloody, and a need to quench an almost impossible thirst; he knew killing Drago and his followers wouldn't bring his loved ones back to the land of the living, but Hiccup didn't care.

He was going to kill Drago with his bare hands, but not before making that madman suffer first; he was going to rob the man of everything he had— his Bewilderbeast, free his enslaved dragon army, and find a way to turn his own army against each other. If he could accomplish these goals and isolate Drago, then, and only then will he end his life. He would look that murderer in the eyes and savor every second of life fleeing from him, and Drago would know that he was defeated utterly and completely by Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Dragon Master of Norway.

As Berk grew smaller and smaller and then disappeared from the distance Hiccup had put himself between his fallen home, he knew that this journey promised two outcomes should he reach the end of his quest for vengeance— glory or Valhalla.

He desired both, truth be told.

But perhaps he craved Valhalla even more.

"Not yet," he murmured to himself. "Not until Drago and his followers blood stains Midagard."

A/N: Yep, things are going to get gritty, dark, bloody, and intense as this story goes on. And for those of you guys wondering, yes I'm fine mentally, I just wanted to write a pretty intense story. Anyway, see you in the next update.