As she ascended higher, Frida crossed to the realm of Midgard. Reaching her limits, a wave of fatigue washed over her. Her vision blurred, and her strength waned. Unable to maintain her altitude, Frida plummeted downwards, her descent rapid and uncontrolled.


Approaching the lush, green coastline, Frida's heart pounded with a new terror.


She was descending too quickly, unable to slow her fall. Her heart froze, as she braced for impact, knowing the crash could be fatal.


Trees rushed up to meet her, and with a final, desperate flap of her wings, she collided with the earth. A searing burn shot through her body as she struggled to rise, her wings battered, and her strength nearly spent.

The journey had taken everything from her, and now, the world began fading to black.


* * * * *


Njal stood on the edge of the cliff, the salty breeze of the eastern coast whispering through his graying hair. Below, the ocean spread out like a shimmering tapestry, each wave lapping gently against the rocks in a soothing, rhythmic dance. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to let the serenity wash away the blood-soaked memories that haunted his nights.


Seventeen dragons. Seventeen lifeless beasts, each one a testament to his skill and ruthlessness. Their lifeless eyes and colossal forms weighed heavily on his soul, a burden that grew with each kill.


Now, the peaceful life of his seaside villa beckoned—a stark contrast to the chaos and carnage that defined his existence as a dragon hunter.


But tranquility was a fleeting illusion, shattered by the distant, agonized roar that pierced the evening sky.


Njal's eyes snapped open, scanning the horizon.


Far in the distance, against the backdrop of the setting sun, a shadow moved erratically. It was a dragon, its massive wings struggling to stay aloft, a trail of blood marring the sky.


The dragon was not flying so much as it was falling.


Trailing the trajectory overhead, he heard the loud crash as the dragon landed. At that speed, Njal wondered if the dragon was dead on impact.


The adrenaline he would have had was dissipated as he could not take credit for a kill when the beast was already dead. However, Njal had a duty to go and inspect the crash site and verify if the dragon was indeed dead, heading to Helheim.


* * * * *


Once he reached the crash site, Njal viewed the dragon lying on its side. It was barely alive as he could see the beast’s chest move up and down with labored breaths. He approached the beast cautiously, surveying the damage.

It would be an easy kill for Njal right now, but somehow his heart wasn’t in it anymore. Looking at the dragon struggling to live, he did not have the urgency for the kill. It would not be an honorable death, killing a helpless dragon.


The beast lay motionless, its eyes closed, appearing unconscious.


As Njal approached cautiously, the dragon’s eyes flickered open.


Startled, he raised his hand in a gesture of peace. To his surprise, the dragon locked eyes with him and nodded.


It’s a sentient being.


Njal heard a loud piercing wail as the dragon began to twitch and shake.


He thought the dragon was in the throes of death. However, he soon realized the dragon was shifting into a new form, shrinking down in size. He was stunned that this dragon, a mortal enemy of his, transformed into a human female.


"I won't kill you," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Not like this."