The Lost King’s Legacy

The moon hung low over Berk, casting a silvery glow on the campfire where the Riders, Stoick, Gobber, Valka, and Lyra had gathered. The flames flickered and danced in the gentle sea breeze, their warmth a welcome comfort against the crisp night air. The dragons rested in a semi-circle around the group, their eyes glowing faintly in the dark as they dozed or watched the humans with quiet curiosity. Toothless and Lexy lay closest to the fire, their tails occasionally twitching in sync as if in silent communication.

The group was unusually quiet, the events of the day lingering in their minds. Stoick, sitting with his back straight and his hands wrapped around a mug of mead, broke the silence first. "So," he rumbled, his deep voice cutting through the crackle of the fire. "That palace… what did you all make of it?"

Snotlout leaned back, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Cold. Fancy. Way too shiny. Honestly, I don't know how anyone could live there without losing their mind."

"You lose your mind in places with walls," Astrid quipped, shooting him a smirk.

Ruffnut grinned, nudging Tuffnut. "It was like the biggest treasure chest ever. I mean, if we had a place like that, we'd be unstoppable."

"Yeah," Tuffnut agreed, leaning forward with a conspiratorial look. "Think about it—Ice Kings Ruffnut and Tuffnut. The frozen terror of the Archipelago!"

Gobber gave a low whistle. "For me, it felt like I was walking through time itself. Every corner had a story just waitin' to be told."

"Some stories were louder than others," Hiccup said, his tone thoughtful as he glanced at Lyra. "Like those tapestries we saw."

Astrid nodded, her expression growing serious. "They weren't just art—they felt… alive. As if they were still speaking to us, even after all this time."

"Speaking nightmares, maybe," Snotlout muttered, hugging his knees to his chest. "I mean, did you see the blood on that one? That's not decoration—it's a warning."

Valka's brow furrowed as she leaned forward. "Blood? What exactly did you all see in those tapestries?"

Fishlegs took a deep breath, as if trying to summon the courage to recount the images. "There were two that really stood out. One showed Nyx as a baby, with a dragon—Kronos, the Cosmic Dragon of Time—crowning him. The other… well, it showed a battlefield. Nyx standing in the center, his sword raised, and there was… blood everywhere."

The firelight flickered over Stoick's face as his jaw tightened. "A battlefield," he repeated. "And Nyx in the middle of it?"

Hiccup nodded, his tone cautious. "It felt… heavy. Like it wasn't just a battle—it was the battle. Something that defined him. Defined Aether."

Lyra, who had been silent until now, finally raised her head. Her crystalline green eyes reflected the firelight as she regarded the group. "I told you I'd explain when we returned to the village," she said softly. "And I will."

Her voice carried a weight that quieted the group. Even Ruffnut and Tuffnut stopped fidgeting, sensing the gravity of what was about to be shared.

Fishlegs shifted nervously, his gaze flicking between Lyra and the fire. "So… is now a good time?"

Lyra nodded slowly, her voice steady but laced with emotion. "It's time."

Lyra's gaze turned distant, her crystalline green eyes reflecting the firelight as she began. "The day Nyx was born… it wasn't an ordinary day, not for Aether, and not for the world."

The group leaned in closer, her tone pulling them into the story.

"It was a calm morning at first," Lyra continued. "The skies were clear, the air crisp, and the entire capital was abuzz with anticipation. Everyone knew the child born that day would be special—he was the firstborn of King Aldrin and Queen Serina, heirs to the legacy of Aether."

Her voice softened, tinged with awe. "But then, something extraordinary happened. As Queen Serina went into labor, the skies darkened, as though the world itself was holding its breath. For a moment, everything was still—no wind, no sound, not even the rustle of leaves. And then… the heavens erupted."

Lyra's words painted a vivid picture, the Riders' imaginations filling in the gaps.

"A radiant aurora burst across the sky," she said, her hands gesturing as though to mimic the lights. "It wasn't just any aurora—it spanned the heavens in colors no one had ever seen before, shifting and shimmering like the very essence of magic itself."

Astrid's eyes widened, her hand brushing absently against Stormfly's scales. "An aurora? Over an entire kingdom? That's… incredible."

Lyra nodded. "It wasn't just over Aether. Messengers later confirmed it was seen across the world—an event unlike anything in history."

Gobber, sitting closer to the fire, leaned back, his one hand resting on his knee. "Hah, can't say I've ever heard of an aurora announcing a baby. Dragons maybe, storms definitely, but babies? That's a first."

Stoick, his arms crossed over his chest, gave a small nod. "A sight like that must've made it clear to everyone—this child was destined for something far beyond ordinary."

"It did," Lyra agreed. "But that was only the beginning."

Snotlout leaned back, folding his arms. "Okay, but cool lights in the sky don't make a king. What happened next?"

Lyra's lips curved into a faint smile. "Next came Kronos."

The name alone carried weight, and the Riders exchanged uneasy glances.

"The Cosmic Dragon of Time," Lyra said, her voice dropping to a reverent hush. "Kronos appeared in the royal hall, descending as though summoned by the universe itself. Its scales shimmered like liquid gold, rippling with every color imaginable, and its very presence… it was like the air itself bent around it. Time seemed to pause, and for a moment, nothing else existed but Kronos and the newborn child."

"Time stopped?" Fishlegs asked, his quill frozen mid-air. "You mean… literally?"

Lyra nodded. "It felt as though the entire world held its breath, waiting to see what Kronos would do."

Gobber whistled, shaking his head. "That must've been a sight to see. If I'd been there, I'd have lost me good hand just tryin' to write it all down."

Astrid tilted her head, her expression curious. "But why would Kronos care about one child? Even a royal one?"

Lyra paused, her gaze flickering with emotion. "Kronos spoke, its voice deep and resonant, like the echo of eternity itself. It said: 'This child is destined to bear the weight of balance. For such a task, he must have a companion to match his soul.'"

The Riders sat in stunned silence, their dragons stirring slightly as though sensing the gravity of her words. Even Valka, seated near Stoick, seemed entranced, her gaze thoughtful as she listened intently.

"Kronos revealed Chaos," Lyra continued, her voice growing softer. "Not the Chaos you know now, but a smaller, younger version—playful, curious, yet radiating raw power. Kronos entrusted Chaos to Nyx, declaring that their bond would define the fate of many. And then… it was gone. Just like that, leaving behind an infant king and a destiny far greater than anyone could comprehend."

Valka spoke for the first time, her voice quiet but steady. "Chaos. Even in its smaller form, it must've been overwhelming for the court. To bond such a creature to an infant…" She shook her head. "It speaks to the weight of that destiny."

"Did the court know what it meant?" Hiccup asked, his voice tinged with awe. "Did they understand the significance of what Kronos had done?"

Lyra sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "They understood pieces of it. Kronos's words carried power, but their full meaning… only time would reveal that."

The fire crackled, filling the silence that followed. Even Ruffnut and Tuffnut seemed lost for words, their usual antics subdued by the weight of the tale.

Astrid broke the silence, her tone thoughtful. "That explains why Chaos and Nyx are so connected. Their bond was forged before either of them even understood what it meant."

Lyra nodded, her expression unreadable. "Their bond is… unique. Unbreakable. And it has carried them through trials no one should have to face."

Stoick exhaled deeply, his voice firm. "To bear such a burden from birth… it shapes a person. But it also tests them in ways no one else could ever truly understand."

Gobber grinned faintly, though his eyes carried a rare seriousness. "Aye, but if this Nyx of yours has carried it this far, then he's somethin' special, alright. Can't argue with the cosmic dragon's choice."

Lyra's voice grew heavier as she continued, her gaze dropping to the fire. "And then there was the other tapestry," she said softly, the memory weighing on her words. "The day Aether lost its king and queen… and the day Nyx became the ruler of a kingdom in mourning."

Her voice grew quieter, but the Riders hung on every word, the weight of the story pressing against the still night air.

"The council chamber was steeped in grief," Lyra said. "The advisors argued endlessly—fortify the defenses, seek alliances, prepare for the inevitable. But Nyx… he stood apart, silent, listening. And then, finally, he spoke."

She paused, her expression hardening as she mimicked the resolution in Nyx's voice. "He said: 'They killed my parents. They've slaughtered our people. If we wait, if we hesitate, more will die. I will not stand by.'"

Hiccup's brow furrowed, his hand resting lightly on Toothless's neck. "He decided to face them… alone?"

"Yes," Lyra whispered, her voice carrying a tremor. "Lord Caine, his uncle, begged him to reconsider. He pleaded, reasoned, even tried to order Nyx as a member of the council. But Nyx wouldn't waver. He donned dark armor, forged from Drake Steel and Emberstone, and mounted Chaos. No army. No reinforcements. Just him and his dragon."

Astrid inhaled sharply. "No one? Not even his uncle?"

Lyra shook her head, her hands tightening in her lap. "It wasn't a decision made lightly. Nyx knew what he was doing, and he didn't want anyone else to bear the burden of his choice. He flew into the skies alone, carrying the weight of an entire kingdom on his shoulders."

Stoick's expression darkened, his hand resting thoughtfully on his knee. "I've seen leaders with that kind of resolve before, but it always comes at a cost. No one carries that kind of burden without it leaving a scar."

Valka nodded beside him, her eyes glimmering with quiet understanding. "And for one so young… that kind of responsibility can harden the soul. Or break it."

Gobber, poking at the fire with a stick, muttered, "A lad his age shouldn't have had to make such a decision. A king, yes, but still a boy."

She paused, her green eyes distant. "The alliance thought they were prepared. Their stronghold was a fortress, surrounded by towering mountains and layered defenses. Seven kingdoms had joined forces, pooling their armies and resources to ensure no one could challenge them."

Her voice dropped, heavy with sorrow. "But they weren't prepared for Nyx. They weren't prepared for Chaos."

The Riders remained silent, their faces lit by the flickering firelight as they hung on her every word.

"The skies darkened as Nyx approached," Lyra said. "Chaos summoned a storm unlike anything the world had ever seen. Lightning, fire, wind, and earth converged in a symphony of destruction, tearing through the mountain stronghold like it was nothing but paper. The walls—fortified for decades—crumbled like sand. Their soldiers… they never stood a chance."

Lyra's voice trembled, her memories raw. "By the time it was over, seven countries were left devastated. Nyx and Chaos destroyed everything that stood against them. They didn't touch the commoners, the innocents, but every stronghold, every fortress, every soldier who had raised a weapon against Aether… all of it was gone. From that day, no kingdom ever dared lift its head against Aether again."

Astrid crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful but somber. "He didn't just end the war. He made sure no one else would ever dare challenge him."

"Exactly," Lyra said softly. "But it came at a cost. A cost he carried alone."

Hiccup leaned forward, his tone cautious but curious. "And after… what did he do? Did he just return to Aether like nothing happened?"

Lyra's gaze softened, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "No. He did something no king had ever done before."

The group leaned closer, the fire crackling softly between them.

"After the battle," Lyra said, her voice heavy with emotion, "Nyx dismounted Chaos at the gates of the capital. He removed his armor and walked—on foot—to the home of every soldier who had fallen in the war. House by house, street by street, he knocked on their doors."

Her hands trembled slightly as she continued. "To each family, he bowed deeply, and he said the same words: 'I am Nyx Aetherion. I am your king, and I failed to protect your loved one. I am sorry.'"

The Riders were stunned into silence, their expressions a mix of awe and sorrow.

Lyra's voice broke slightly as she added, "It didn't matter if they were nobles or commoners—he treated them all the same. He knelt in their doorways, not as a king, but as someone who understood their pain. And Chaos walked with him, every step of the way. I was there too, along with the nobles, but…" She hesitated, her voice trembling. "I don't think he even noticed me. His focus was entirely on them, on honoring the lives that had been lost."

Astrid's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "He… he did that for every soldier?"

Lyra nodded, her voice barely audible. "Every single one. It took days, but he didn't stop. Not until he had visited every family, spoken to every grieving parent, spouse, and child."

The fire crackled in the stillness, its warmth unable to dispel the chill that had settled over the group.

Hiccup's voice was soft, filled with admiration. "He didn't just lead. He carried their pain, didn't he?"

Lyra met his gaze, her eyes glistening. "Yes. He carried it all."

Stoick exhaled deeply, his voice low but resolute. "He's a leader who understands the true cost of leadership. It's not about the crown or the power—it's about the people you serve. And sometimes, that means bearing the weight of their grief alongside your own."

Valka added quietly, "It takes a kind of strength most can only aspire to. But such strength… it can leave a person deeply scarred."

Gobber shook his head, his expression unusually serious. "Scarred or not, that lad's got a heart like none other. I've known chiefs who wouldn't lift a finger for their people, let alone go door to door like that."