How to Train Your Dragon Books Reading Level

  Y'all don't have to read the Hiccup books in social club.

Just if you want to, this is the right order:

Virtually HICCUP

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Tertiary was

an awesome sword fighter, a dragon-whisperer,

and the greatest Viking Hero that always lived.

Merely Hiccup'due south memoirs look back to when

he was a very ordinary boy, and finding

information technology hard to be a Hero.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the production of the author's

imagination or are used fictitiously. Whatsoever resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is

casual.

Text and illustrations copyright © 2013 by Cressida Cowell

Cover art © 2013 by Red Hansen

Comprehend design by Kristina Iulo

Cover © 2013 Hachette Book Group, Inc.

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.Southward. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and

electronic sharing of whatsoever function of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy

and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to apply materials from the volume (other

than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at

permissions@hbgusa.com. Thanks for your back up of the author's rights.

Niggling, Brownish and Company

Hachette Volume Group

237 Park Artery, New York, NY 10017

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The Picayune, Brown proper name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are non owned by the publisher.

Showtime ebook edition: Dec 2013

eISBN 978-0-316-33373-3

We have not yet seen Tomorrow. Nosotros have not notwithstanding

dared get at that place.

There was one time a thriving city on the island of

Tomorrow. The flags of the Wilderwest flew bravely

from the towers of its hundred fantabulous castles. It was

a metropolis built on the enslavement of men and of dragons

but, like many a city before and after it, it was a

handsome and glorious city all the same.

But a century ago, Grimbeard the Ghastly, the

Final King of the Wilderwest, did a truly dreadful thing.

Grimbeard'southward son Hiccup Horrendous Haddock

the 2nd, with his dragon the Dragon Furious, was

leading a peaceful Dragon Petition to plead with his

father to cease the misery of slavery. Grimbeard mistook

the Petition for Rebellion. He killed his very own son

11

by his very own sword, the Stormblade, and the claret

of his son was spilt on the seat of his very ain Throne.

That was the kickoff of the Expletive upon the

Throne and the island of Tomorrow. The urban center was

destroyed past the dragon forces that had come at first

in peaceful protest. The hundred excellent castles

were burnt to the ground, and the Dragon Furious

was captured and bound in inescapable chains, in the

depths of a woods prison.

Grimbeard the Ghastly repented of his terrible

criminal offence. He swore that in that location would never be a King

of the Wilderwest again, unless that King could be

a meliorate man than he was. And so Grimbeard created an

Impossible Task. He scattered x of the King's Things

to all the four corners of the distant earth.

Those Things would be guarded by monsters and

dragons most terrible. Only a true Hero could gather

the Things together, and lift the Curse and become the

next King of the Wilderwest.

In the unlikely event that in that location would ever be a

Hero nifty enough to gather together those 10 Lost

Things, the Hero could so exist crowned, but simply on

the 12th solar day of Doomsday, known as the Doomsday

of Yule, which comes but in one case a year, and only on

the island of Tomorrow, on the stumps of the Throne

12

where Grimbeard's son had died.

In the concurrently, Grimbeard appointed human

and dragon Warriors to be Guardians on the ruined

island fortress of Tomorrow, then fearsome so

terrible that they can barely be imagined. All will impale on

sight anyone illegally entering their territory.

Now the Archipelago needs a Rex more than

e'er before. For the Dragon Furious has escaped from

that forest prison where Grimbeard the Ghastly once

enslaved him, and the Dragon is carrying out his own

Curse on the humans that he now hates. His intention

is to extinguish the unabridged human race.

And the Dragon Furious is winning. He has

torched the whole n of the Archipelago. The

humans have been forced to live in hiding-places

underground, for fright of the Dragon.

Zip can stop the Dragon Furious now.

Nothing except for a new King, for a new King will be

told the cloak-and-dagger of the 10th Lost Thing, the Dragon

Gem, a precious stone that has the ability to destroy dragons

forever.

At that place is only ane time in the year that a possible

King is allowed to enter the territory of Tomorrow.

It is on one of the twelve mornings of the Twelve

Days of Doomsday.

13

Today it is midwinter, and the morning of the

ninth day of Doomsday.

Here he is now, the extraordinarily tall figure of a

lone Ferryman, rowing across from the dreadful isle

of Tomorrow, across the little Causeway of Hero's

Gap, to the mainland of the Murderous Mountains.

The Ferryman is the Druid Guardian of the island

of Tomorrow. He is blindfolded, and cannot take off

this blindfold until a new Rex of the Wilderwest is

crowned. The blindfold signifies his role as an impartial

and implacable Judge, and his absolute delivery to

his role as a Druid Guardian. But by some supernatural

agency, he seems able to sense that there is a figure,

with a picayune band of followers, waiting for him on the

beach. The figure is UG the Uglithug. His hope rises.

At last… in the nick of time… a Hero come up to

claim the Kingdom!

For the Druid Guardian fears that the Dragon

Furious is very close to extinguishing the human race.

The Druid Guardian brings the boat to a

sludgy halt on the Singing Sands of the Embankment of the

Ferryman'due south Gift, and spreads broad his arms, and makes

the declaration, every bit his male parent, and his male parent'due south male parent,

and his male parent'south father'due south begetter have done every year

before him.

14

'He-Or-She-Who-Would-Exist-King, arroyo

Tomorrow if you dare! Only the One with the Male monarch'south

Lost Things tin can be crowned the King and live…'

And then he turns to UG the Uglithug, and asks

these solemn words.

'Are y'all He-Who-Would-Be-King?'

UG replies, 'I am.'

'Are you the chosen representative of all the

Tribes of the Archipelago?' asked the Druid Guardian.

UG nods.

'Have yous brought a gift for the Ferryman?' asks

the Druid Guardian.

'I take,' replies UG the Uglithug.

The Druid Guardian says solemnly, but with

eager promise, 'Then show me the Things.'

UG the Uglithug snaps his fingers to his followers,

and one past one they bring forward the Things.

They are: a fang-complimentary dragon, Grimbeard's

second-best sword, the Roman shield, an

arrow-from-the-land-that-does-non-exist, the middle's

stone, the ticking-affair, the key, the Throne, the

Crown, the Dragon Precious stone.

UG the Uglithug's followers lay them out on the

embankment before the Druid Guardian and retreat. The

Druid Guardian steps forrard to examine the Things.

15

A long, long

time he spends,

picking upwards each Thing

with his long clever

fingers, taking care to

experience each individual

object from all angles, to

bank check whether information technology is right.

And so he steps

backwards. A grim note

enters his vocalization every bit he

declares: 'These Things

are FAKES. The replica

of the toothless dragon is

peculiarly poor, and information technology

is unkind of you to

do such a thing to a

defenceless animal.

We will give information technology a

dwelling house on Tomorrow.'

(UG the Uglithug has

removed the teeth from a

poor little Trotterdragon in

social club to pretend it is the real

toothless dragon from the Prophecy.)

UG the Uglithug turns as white

every bit a sheep's fleece. 'As for YOU, UG

the Uglithug,' continues the Druid

Guardian, 'know this. He who dares to

arroyo Tomorrow with a souvenir that is

unacceptable, dies a quick and horrible

decease along with his followers.

'ARISE, Yous GUARDIAN

PROTECTORS OF TOMORROW!

ARISE AND Do YOUR WORST!'

All effectually UG the Uglithug and his

followers on the beach, the sand begins to

bubble. So the country gives birth to

creatures of unimaginable horror, huge and

terrible, screaming vengeance. There is no

time for reaction, no time for defence. UG

the Uglithug and his followers have no fourth dimension

to run across fifty-fifty what they are, whether they are

dragons or something worse.

These creatures accept concur

of UG the Uglithug,

they take

hold of the followers, screaming and

struggling. They shoot upwards and

ever upwardly, upward into the sky, up and

up and up, into the clouds beyond, into

the choking freeze of ice and burn down of the

upper atmosphere, and those people

are and then no more. They will return to the

earth only as ash and purple rain.

Such is the vengeance of the

Guardians of Tomorrow on those who attempt

to approach their shore without the

correct Things.

The Druid Guardian sighs. He gently caresses the

head of the poor toothless Trotterdragon, reassuring it

softly that all volition be well. He mutters to himself, 'Two

more days… Simply two more than days for a Hero to get in

and save the states all.'

Wearily, he clambers back into his little boat. He

is not really expecting that right Hero to come, yous

see. Why would he? This is a ritual that has taken identify

every year for ninety-nine years and only the unworthy

take come. Wearily, the former man begins to row back to

Tomorrow.

He volition call for a Hero to come and claim the

crown for two more than days. If a Hero does non arrive on

the eleventh 24-hour interval, on Doomsday Eve, then information technology will be

too late. Grimbeard's rules set down a century ago, are

inviolate. The borders of Tomorrow will close again,

until the following year.

And adjacent year actually Will be also late. By and then

the Dragon Furious will accept grown too stiff. This

year is their only gamble.

A Hero must come to claim the Throne, with all

of the Lost Things, by the eleventh day of Doomsday…

… Or all is lost.

22

PROLOGUE BY HICCUP

HORRENDOUS HADDOCK III,

THE Final OF THE GREAT

VIKING HEROES

These last two books of my memoirs take place over

only forty-eight hours, during the terminal two days of

Doomsday when I was 14 years one-time, and I warn

you lot that they are the darkest and near terrifying, and

were the almost hard to write. For this was the time in

which I faced both Grimbeard the Ghastly's Guardian

Protectors of Tomorrow, and the true might and anger

of the Dragon Furious.

This was the time in which the dragons faced

extinction.

At the beginning of this book, war has come to

the Archipelago, the dragons and the humans are trying

to obliterate each other, and I am being hunted downwards

past both the terrible dragons of the Dragon Rebellion,

and by the witch and Alvin the Treacherous.

I await back at that pale, skinny, fourteen-yr-quondam

Boy-Who-Once-Was-Me, and I feel such anxiety for

him, for he does non yet know what is coming to him.

He is living through this dreadful state of war, so he has seen

25

death already, just he has not notwithstanding lost someone that he

loves. He is starting time to sympathize what information technology means to

bear the burden of the guilt and responsibility of beingness

a leader. Only he has not however accustomed that burden as his

fate and his destiny.

Will he exist able to save the dragons in the finish?

I yearn to help him.

I want to reach out across the chasm of space and

stars and time and hold his hand to assist him through

it. But of course he is living in the past, that distant

country, and however hard I shout, he will not hear me.

At present I am an old, old man, looking back on

my life, I tin meet the pattern and the reason for the

darkness of that time.

Great things are but made out of love and out of

hurting.

A keen sword must exist fabricated out of the very best

steel. But what truly makes the sword dandy, is what

happens to the sword after it is made.

We phone call this the 'testing' of the sword.

The sword is bashed and hammered and hollered

into shape by the bright hammer. It is thrust into the

fierce heat of the fire, where it softens, and and so it is

apace quenched in h2o, where it hardens again. The

higher the temperature, the fiercer the burn down, the tougher

26

and the greater the sword eventually becomes.

The whole testing process tin brand a sword, or

break it.

The same could be said for the Making of a Hero.

one. YOUR MOTHER SAID NOT

TO Get out THE HIDEOUT

It was a arctic and foggy dark in the Murderous

Mountains.

A adept night for treachery.

Humans should not have been out in the forests

of the Murderous Mountains in those times of state of war. If

the dragons of the Dragon Rebellion caught even i

hint that there were humans moving in the burnt trees

of those misty mount passes, they would hunt them

down and kill them.

But somewhere deep in that forest, far away

from whatsoever assist, a terrified human voice was shrieking,

'Aid! Help! Help!' and a piffling party of dauntless just

foolish humans and dragons had set out to offering their

assistance.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third was

sitting on the back of a Deadly Shadow dragon, flying

and then low over the treetops that every now and then the

slow downward beats of the dragon'southward wings brushed

the scorched topmost twigs of the trees.

Mortiferous Shadow dragons are chameleons, and then

this beautiful 3-headed dragon was exactly the

color of the midnight sky, consummate with stars slowly

shifting across its shining sides.

Hiccup'due south knees were trembling with the try to

proceed a grip on the saddle.

Hiccup was a very

ordinary looking male child,

for one so sought after

past so many people. A

ragged petty string-bean

of a teenager, his fire-adjust

torn to ribbons, his face

bruised and scratched,

with the wild hair and

scared eyes of i

who had been

hunted by too

many for too long. State of war and exile hadturned him into a

scarecrow of a boy.

His sword was fatigued, his ears ringing from the

piercing coldness of the bitter wind – and he was

peering over the Deadly Shadow'southward fly as information technology flew, his

heart chirapsia horribly quick at the blackened wasteland

downward below. He was trying to work out where that

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Source: https://graycity.net/cressida-cowell/154009-how_to_train_your_dragon_how_to_betray_a_dragons_hero.html

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