The Lost King’s Legacy

The tension in the icy air was palpable as Lyra stepped cautiously toward the Riders, her crystalline green eyes flicking between the unfamiliar faces before her. Lexy remained at her side, the dragon's shimmering, crystalline form a silent yet protective presence. Behind her, Nyx stood with his molten-gold gaze fixed on the ruins of his broken kingdom, the weight of centuries pressing heavily on his shoulders. Chaos loomed behind him, its molten patterns subdued but pulsing faintly, reflecting the deep sorrow that radiated from its bonded king.

Lyra raised her hands in a gesture of peace, her silvery-blonde hair catching the dim light of the ruins, shimmering like threads of starlight against the cold backdrop. Her crystalline green eyes were wide, but filled with a calm determination as she stepped forward. Her voice, soft yet steady, carried a melodic resonance that seemed to echo in the very air around them.

"Val'theren tal ven'ara. Nae'len val'salaren." (We come in peace. Who are you?)

The ancient language rolled off her tongue like a forgotten song, each word imbued with a haunting beauty. The language was alien to the Riders, its cadence unfamiliar, yet there was a depth to it—a history—that hinted at something far older than they could comprehend. It was like listening to the wind whisper secrets from another time.

Astrid, standing protectively near Stormfly, instinctively tightened her grip on her axe. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed, scanning Lyra and Nyx for any sign of deception. The tension in her shoulders betrayed her unease. "Hiccup, what's she saying?" she asked, her voice low but urgent, never taking her eyes off the two figures before them.

Hiccup shook his head, his brow furrowed in concentration. He stepped closer to Toothless, who growled softly but remained still, his gaze fixed on Chaos with cautious intensity. "I don't know, Astrid. But she doesn't look like she's threatening us." His voice was calm, but there was a note of uncertainty, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as her.

Lyra tilted her head slightly, her brow knitting in confusion. She studied the Riders, her gaze lingering on each of them in turn. Their expressions were wary, their stances defensive, but their eyes held no malice—only caution and curiosity. Realizing the language barrier, she took a deep breath, deciding to try a different approach.

She placed a hand on her chest, her movements slow and deliberate. "Lyra," she said, enunciating clearly, her voice carrying a note of earnestness. Then she gestured toward Nyx, who stood slightly behind her, his molten-gold eyes still watching the Riders warily. "Nyx."

The name hung in the air like an offering, a fragile bridge between two worlds.

Fishlegs, perched cautiously on Meatlug, leaned forward, his wide eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and nervous excitement. He pointed a trembling finger toward Lyra, his voice low. "Lyra? Is that... her name?" He glanced back at the others, his expression uncertain but hopeful. "I think she's trying to introduce herself."

Astrid's grip on her axe loosened slightly, though her eyes remained sharp. She glanced at Hiccup, her voice still edged with caution. "So, what do we do? Just... introduce ourselves back?"

Hiccup hesitated, then nodded slowly. He raised his hands, mimicking Lyra's gesture, and placed one hand on his chest. "Hiccup," he said, his voice clear but gentle. He motioned toward Toothless. "Toothless."

Lyra's eyes lit up with a flicker of understanding. She exchanged a glance with Nyx, who watched the interaction with guarded curiosity. Slowly, the tension in his posture eased, though the molten energy in his eyes never fully dimmed.

Nyx turned his head slightly, his golden eyes narrowing in thought. His hand moved to his belt, where the Info Lens—an artifact forged from the scales of Kronos, the Dragon of Time—rested. Its surface shimmered faintly, etched with runes that seemed to shift and pulse with a rhythm all their own.

Without a word, Nyx removed the artifact and held it before his eyes, his fingers tracing its intricate design. The lens activated, a soft golden light emanating from its core as it floated gently above his palm. Its energy hummed softly, resonating with a power that felt both ancient and alive. The artifact connected him to the knowledge of time itself.

Slowly, a stream of words began to coalesce in his thoughts, their meanings unfolding like petals of a flower. He looked toward Hiccup. The Info Lens shifted slightly, glowing brighter as it focused on the young Viking leader.

A translucent panel formed in the air before Nyx, filled with runes that translated themselves into a language he could now comprehend.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III

Age: 21

Role: Dragon Rider | Heir of Berk | Son of Stoick the Vast

Dragon: Toothless (Night Fury)

Traits:

Visionary Leader — Guides with heart and ingenuity, shaping a future where dragons and humans coexist.

Unyielding Curiosity — Seeks the unknown, always questioning, always learning.

Dragon Whisperer — Forged an unbreakable bond with Toothless, the last Night Fury, bridging worlds between species.

Nyx frowned slightly, processing the information that had just unfolded before him. "Hiccup," he murmured, the name foreign yet resonant on his tongue. His golden gaze fixed on the young man standing defiantly amidst the ruins, eyes full of cautious determination. This was no ordinary scavenger or raider—Nyx could see the quiet strength behind Hiccup's gaze, the way he stood not just as a leader, but as someone who had earned the trust of his dragon and companions.

His hand tightened around the Info Lens, the ancient artifact cool against his palm, its intricate golden runes flickering softly. The device had provided a glimpse into the Riders' identity, their bond with dragons, and their intent—revealing more than words ever could. These people, he realized, were not mere intruders; they were warriors in their own right, bonded to their dragons with a loyalty that mirrored his own.

Slowly, Nyx turned toward Lyra. His molten-gold eyes softened as he approached her, the tension in his shoulders easing. The Info Lens, sensing the shift, dimmed slightly, its glow fading as it returned to its dormant state. He held it out to her, his expression calm but resolute. "Take it."

Lyra's eyes widened in surprise, her crystalline green gaze flickering between Nyx and the artifact. "Nyx… are you certain?" Her voice held a note of awe and hesitation, as if she understood the significance of what he was offering. The Info Lens was not just a tool—it was a symbol of trust, a conduit of knowledge that few had ever wielded.

Nyx nodded, his voice low and steady as he looked into her eyes. "You are my wife, Lyra. What is mine is yours. Use it to speak with them." His words carried a depth of meaning beyond the surface, a reminder of their shared duty and the bond that had seen them through countless trials.

Lyra hesitated for a heartbeat, her fingers hovering over the artifact. Finally, she accepted it, the golden glow pulsing faintly as it recognized her touch. The runes along its surface shimmered and aligned themselves, responding to her presence with an almost sentient awareness. As she held it, she glanced up at Nyx, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Nyx," she whispered, her voice filled with quiet resolve.

Chaos let out a low, rumbling growl, the sound vibrating through the frozen air like a distant thunderclap. The dragon's molten patterns flared briefly, casting flickering shadows across the ancient ruins. It stepped closer to Nyx, its golden eyes fixed on him with an intensity that spoke of loyalty and understanding.

Without another word, Nyx climbed onto Chaos's broad back, his movements fluid and practiced. The molten energy within the dragon seemed to sync with his presence, their connection unspoken but profound. Chaos spread its massive wings, each movement imbued with raw power, the patterns along its scales glowing brighter as if feeding off the energy in the air.

Lyra watched him, the Info Lens clutched tightly in her hand. Her heart swelled with a mix of pride and concern as Nyx looked down at her from Chaos's back. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a powerful leap, Chaos propelled itself into the air, its wings slicing through the cold wind.

The ground trembled beneath the force of their ascent, ice and rubble scattering in their wake. Chaos soared higher, spiraling toward the peak of the crumbling kingdom, its molten glow a beacon against the darkening sky. 

Nyx looked down at the ruins as Chaos ascended, the jagged remains of towers and streets stretching out beneath him like a frozen graveyard. His heart ached with every beat of his dragon's wings. The winds carried a mournful chill, the echoes of the past whispering in his ears.

Lyra turned back to the Riders, her expression a complex mix of determination and hope. The Info Lens pulsed rhythmically in her grasp, each rune glowing brighter as the artifact absorbed energy from her touch. She raised it high, and the golden light expanded outward, unfurling into a translucent barrier that shimmered like molten glass, casting intricate, dancing shadows across the frozen ground. The barrier's light was neither harsh nor threatening, but it carried an undeniable presence—an ancient power that filled the air with a heavy, expectant energy, crackling like a storm on the horizon.

The dragons reacted instinctively. Toothless's low growl rumbled through the stillness, his eyes narrowing as he watched the barrier, muscles coiled as if ready to spring into action. Stormfly's feathers flared, bristling with tension, and Hookfang's flames flickered along his scales, a visible sign of his readiness to defend. Meatlug let out a soft, uneasy moan, her bulk pressing closer to Fishlegs, who clutched her saddle tightly, his knuckles white.

Snotlout's hand flew to the hilt of his weapon, his eyes darting between the barrier and Lyra. "Uh... Hiccup?" he muttered, his voice edged with growing panic. "That doesn't look like a friendly light show. Are we sure this isn't some kind of... I don't know, death trap?"

Fishlegs swallowed hard, his eyes wide with apprehension. "It's... definitely powerful. I mean, look at it!" He gestured nervously at the barrier. "That's not just light. There's... something else. It's like it's made of... ancient magic." His voice quivered, each word filled with a mixture of fear and awe. "We don't know what it's capable of!"

Astrid remained calm, her sharp blue eyes scanning the barrier for any sign of threat. She tightened her grip on her axe, her stance defensive but controlled. "We've faced a lot of things, but this... This feels different. There's something about it that's... alive." Her voice was low, urgent, as she turned to Hiccup. "What if it's a trap? What if they're trying to separate us from our dragons?"

Hiccup raised a hand, a firm but calm gesture meant to steady both his friends and their dragons. Toothless, sensing his rider's resolve, relaxed slightly, though his eyes remained fixed on the barrier. "I don't think they're trying to harm us," Hiccup said, his voice steady, thoughtful. His gaze locked onto Lyra, who stood with an almost serene confidence. "If they wanted to attack, they've had plenty of chances."

Snotlout scoffed, his bravado a thin mask over his nervousness. "Yeah, well, maybe they're just toying with us. Did you see that dragon of theirs? That thing could wipe us out without even trying!" He shifted restlessly in his saddle, Hookfang's wings flaring beneath him.

Hiccup nodded, his expression serious. "Exactly. That's the point. They don't need tricks or traps to kill us. If they wanted to, we wouldn't be having this conversation." His voice softened slightly as he glanced back at Lyra. "This... this is different. I think they're trying to communicate."

Astrid's eyes flickered with understanding. She lowered her axe, though her grip remained firm. "You think this barrier is... what? A translator?"

Hiccup nodded slowly. "It's possible. Look at the way it interacts with that thing in her hand. It's not just light—it's like it's... listening, maybe even learning."

Fishlegs peered closer at the barrier, his fear mingling with curiosity. "You think it's... learning our language?" His voice held a hint of awe. "That would explain why it feels... intelligent. It's more than magic—it's... aware."

Snotlout rolled his eyes, though he didn't relax his grip on Hookfang's reins. "Great. So we're dealing with smart magic. That makes me feel so much better."

Astrid shot him a look. "Sarcasm isn't helping, Snotlout."

He raised his hands defensively. "I'm just saying! We don't know what we're up against."

Hiccup's voice was firm. "That's true. But we do know one thing—they haven't attacked us, and they've given us a name. Lyra." He glanced at Astrid. "We have to trust that they're trying to reach out, not harm us."

Astrid sighed, her eyes flicking between the barrier and Lyra. "I hope you're right, Hiccup. Because if you're wrong..." She trailed off, the unspoken consequences heavy in the air.

Hiccup placed a reassuring hand on Toothless's head. "We didn't come here to fight. And if they wanted one, we wouldn't be standing here."

Lyra observed the exchange, sweat beading on her brow. The Info Lens required immense energy to maintain the translation barrier—far more than she was used to channeling. She clenched her jaw, focusing, pushing herself to keep the artifact stable. Nyx could wield this much power effortlessly, as easily as breathing, but for her, it was a strain that taxed her body and mind. Her hands trembled slightly, though she refused to let it show.

Finally, the energy coalesced, and her voice rang clear through the barrier, the words resonating with an almost musical quality. "I am Lyra Celestia," she said, the translation bridging the gap between their languages. Her voice carried an ethereal weight, the words hanging in the air like a solemn vow. "That was Nyx Aetherion. We are... all that remains of the Aether Kingdom."

The Riders exchanged glances, their tension easing slightly as they began to grasp the enormity of her words. The hostility in their stances softened, replaced by curiosity and a tentative hope.

"Hiccup... of Berk," Hiccup said carefully, pointing first to himself, then to Toothless. He repeated the gesture. "Toothless."

Lyra's eyes lit up with understanding, and she smiled faintly, the gesture filled with both relief and sorrow. "Hiccup... of Berk," she repeated, the name strange but familiar on her tongue. Her accent lent a melodic quality to the words, making them sound almost sacred.

She gestured toward Lexy and then to the peak where Nyx had gone, indicating for the Riders to follow. As she mounted Lexy, the dragon's crystalline wings unfurled, catching the light. Together, they ascended toward the peak, the icy winds biting at their faces as they climbed higher into the unknown. The ruins of the Aether Kingdom stretched out below them—a stark reminder of the world that had been lost and the fragile hope that now rested in their hands.