I glanced out of the window of my house. It was getting dark, and I wanted to go for a walk.

I walked through the village quietly. It was almost pitch black out, and the only light that was keeping me stumbling around in the darkness were the small torches that were attached to the side of the houses and the bonfire near the lookout.

Sometimes, when I'm walking out at night, alone, I wish that there weren't the torches lighting my path. I wish for complete darkness, where I'm completely alone with my thoughts, and no one can see me. I'm away from everyone, from the struggles we face.

With all of my might, I wish for moments like these, but because of the dragons, that can't happen. This is why I fight the war that we fight. For freedom from the dragons. To do what I choose without any fear. 

But the others don't seem to aspire for peace, for freedom from the chains that the dragons put on us. They just want to kill dragons for the fun of it. They want to look cool.

Is there something wrong with them, that they can't understand the meanings of war and peace? Or is there something wrong with me, for wanting something greater than most can understand. 

I wonder if anyone feels the same way as me.

Stoick probably fights the war to stop the dragon attacks, to allow us to eat what we have grown, not just what we were left with. Even then, he wouldn't want them completely gone. He likes a good fight. 

Gobber might want to end the dragons purely because it's what Stoick wants.

I realize that many of the Vikings fight the dragons because Stoick wants them to, and they are stubborn to think of another reason.

Does no one want pure freedom? To live without fear, to go where we want without the chance of being killed by the fire of the beasts? 

Then it hit me. 

Hiccup. Hiccup probably feels the same way.

The realization of this shocked me. I didn't understand how we could be alike. As Vikings, we're taught that what makes two people same is their strength, but I knew that there had to be something else. That people can be the same in their heads, in the way they think. 

And somehow, I figure that type of being the same may be much more important than strength.

I think back to last night. We were gathered by one of the lookout towers for supper. I think that Gobber likes gathering us for a meal so he can actually talk to us without dragons chasing us. 

We had all sat around the fire, Gobber talking about the terrible encounters with dragons he had. Everyone looked interested, but I was too deep in thoughts to hear his words. I was trying to figure out how Hiccup had been able to push back the dragon, but Gobber shouted, telling the story as if it was happening at that moment. 

I looked up. Gobber was telling the story of how he lost his arm and leg. 

"Gods, I am so angry right now!" Snotlout had yelled., "I swear, I will avenge your beautiful hand, and your beautiful foot by cutting off the legs of every dragon that I see," He paused for a breath, "With my face."

"It's not the legs you want to go for, it's the wing and tail, then they can't fly." Gobber had corrected him, "A downed dragon is a dead dragon."

I saw Hiccup's eyes go wide. He set down his fish and left. I cautiously followed him. The others were too engrossed in conversation to notice my absence. I stepped down the stairs to follow him, but he was gone. 

Then, I saw today in the arena, and he was able to push back the Hideous Zippleback. What had he done last night? 

I walk back to my house, my mind filled with ideas that may lead to how Hiccup could combat the Zippleback. Many of them began with blind courage, suicidal bravery, and other Vikingly features Hiccup had never shown before. 

Then I thought of the similarities between us. Not strength,  but the need for freedom. Could this be it?