With a jolt, Frida awoke, her body drenched in cold sweat. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she struggled to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. The images of Njal’s lifeless body, Marie and Ivy’s injuries, and the devastation of the villa haunted her, a relentless reminder of what was at stake.


Determination flared within her, a burning resolve to prevent her nightmare from becoming reality.


Frida knew that healing and regaining her full strength was no longer just a matter of personal survival; it was imperative for the safety of everyone she cared about.


“Nidhogg must be stopped,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling with emotion. “I won’t let him destroy everything. I won’t let Njal die.”


The weeks that followed were filled with relentless training and rehabilitation. Frida pushed herself harder than ever before, driven by the fear of losing those she had come to care for.


Njal noticed the change in her, the fierce dedication in her eyes.


“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he warned one evening as they sparred.


Frida met his gaze, her expression steely. “I have to, Njal. Not for our fight, but for Nidhogg. He’s coming, and I won’t let him win.”


“Frida, you need to rest, your body is not fully healed yet.”


“Enough! I’m tired of everyone always telling me what I need! How about you support me in what I want!”


The argument between Frida and Njal erupted like a summer storm, sudden and fierce. It started with a simple disagreement over her readiness to fight again but quickly escalated.


Njal’s words were sharp, laced with the frustration of seeing her push herself too hard.


“You’re not invincible, Frida! You need to rest!”


“And you think I don’t know my own limits?” she retorted, her pupils narrowing to predatory slits. “I’m not some fragile creature you can shelter forever.”


“Maybe you should start acting like it, instead of rushing headlong into danger!”


That was the breaking point. Her nostrils flared with each furious breath. Her jaw clenched tightly, her teeth grinding as the muscles in her face contorted.


“I don’t need your protection, Njal. I’ve survived worse than your condescension.”


With that admission, she stormed out of the courtyard, her temples pounding with each beat of her heart.


Pushed to her limits, she grabbed a horse and rode west toward the sunset. She needed to leave, to get away from Njal.


Her heart was torn seeing Njal’s reaction. She knew he meant well. However, Frida understood if she left the villa, they would all be safe from Nidhogg, as he would come after her instead. She wasn’t sure, but it was a risk she had to take.


Njal, please forgive me!


Njal stood alone in the silence that followed, the weight of his harsh words settling over him like a shroud. He regretted them immediately, but pride kept him from calling her back.


He watched the door, hoping she would return, but the hours passed in solitary stillness.


* * * * *


In the deep of night, a shadow fell over the villa. Nidhogg, the ancient dragon, had tracked Frida to Midgard. The air grew cold and heavy as the dragon descended, its eyes burning with malevolence.


With Frida gone, Njal took up his sword, determined to defend the villa and its inhabitants. The young woman, Marie, who had nursed Frida, cradling her daughter Ivy in her arms, watched in terror.


“Njal, please, help us!” she cried, her voice trembling.


“Go, help the others,” Njal replied, his voice steady despite the fear knotting in his chest. Nidhogg’s attack was swift and brutal. The villa’s walls shook as the dragon’s fiery breath scorched the earth. Njal fought with all his might, his blade striking true against the dragon’s scales. But Nidhogg was no ordinary dragon, its fury was unbound.


As Njal battled the beast, he saw Ivy standing frozen in the courtyard, her mother frantically calling her back.


Without a second thought, Njal threw himself between the girl and the dragon. Nidhogg’s claws raked through his armor, sending him sprawling to the ground.


Pain seared through Njal, but he forced himself to stand, shielding the child with his body.