My Guardian Angel

CHAPTER 8: THE UGLY TRUTH

My Guardian Angel

Ships: Hiccstrid

Rated: K+

Author's Note (14th March 2024): Well, well, well. We meet again reader. It has been an utterly gruesome and exhausting 6-7 months but I'm back! My big exams are over, and the summer vacations have started :) For any of those wondering, yeah, my exams went well lol. It's been a really long time since I wrote anything, so I am a bit rusty lmao. Anyways, here we go!

Chapter 8

[FLASHBACK]

Sweat dripped from every part of her body as she pushed herself more and more, the fatigue slithering into each joint and muscle in her limbs. It was obstacle day, when Coach set up the most difficult obstacle courses for the recruits to do. No one liked that day, especially Astrid. It was one those days Coach adopted a very unpleasant tone with everyone, constantly yelling and scolding them. The other recruits had christened him 'Coach Spitelout', which was honestly a fitting name according to Astrid. She ran across the room, grabbing on the hanging ropes and hauling herself across the hole in the floor. She couldn't take it anymore. She just narrowly made it over the small vault as the final obstacle approached, the Wall. Ever since she was a young recruit, she had always hated the Wall. It consisted of climbing a rope, and then climbing up tires, topped with real rocks to use to climb up.

She started up, the fibres of the rope burning her hands. She looked up to see almost everyone else had already made it up or were close to the top. She clenched the rope harder as she somehow made it to the tires. As she grabbed the sweat-covered rubber, she slipped, falling to the ground. Suddenly, Coach Spitelout's whistle pierced the air.

"See recruits, this be what happens when daddy helps you get into the academy." His words stabbing her soul. She looked up to see everyone else looking down at her, she made out her friend Heather, her green eyes full of worry.

"IS THIS SOME KIND OF JOKE TO YE LASS!?" Coach yelled, his thick Scottish accent rippling through her ears, "YE'R NEVER GONNA MAKE IT! NEVER! ODIN ONLY KNOWS HOW YE'V MADE IT THIS FAR." Astrid felt tears sprinkle in her eyes. She got up as Coach pointed to the door. With her head held down in shame, she rushed out the door. Tears flowed down her face.

She had failed, and it hurt. But she wouldn't give up. She couldn't......

[END FLASHBACK]

Astrid gasped, sitting up in a cold sweat. It was dark, but not too dark. Her hands were bound behind her, and she appeared to be in a jail cell. A small circular window illuminated a small portion of the room, which oddly enough, slowly swayed from left to right. The strong stench of wood hit her nose as she sat up and looked around. Rusted iron weaved itself into a grill which acted as the entrance to her cell. Through it she could make out a corridor, illuminated by a single lantern which also swayed in a similar fashion. Then it hit her. There were almost 8 such cells like the one she was in, 4 on each side of the corridor. She was on a ship, but not just any ship. It was an old dragon hunting ship.

Centuries ago, during the Viking Era, tales of 'dragons' swept through the region. Tales of sailor's ships being destroyed by creatures of the deep which oddly resembled dragons. Soon specific ships began to be made which were capable of taking down such beasts. The 'dragon' population dwindled into extinction unfortunately.

Suddenly, a dark shape stirred in the opposite cell. Astrid clung to the bars, peering into the dwindled darkness. In the faint light she could make out a person, a boy. But this wasn't just any boy, his auburn hair made that very clear. He sat up and leaned against the wall.