The stone doors with the dragon head opened, rolling back and tucking themselves into the walls of the stone cavern. In this hidden section of the Undercity, there was no light save for what Marina carried with her and the air was sharp from the cold.
Sitting in the middle of the chamber was a large circular mound of ash that rested undisturbed for what must have been centuries. The back wall was covered by a monument to the dead dragon that once ruled over what was now Lundstad. A dragon head, much larger than the one on the doors, was carved into it and ancient runes were inscribed into large paragraphs, offering long-forgotten words. Even Pheston could not read them.
“I feel its presence,” said Friedrich.
“Yes,” said Teleri as Marina and Pheston nodded in agreement.
The four stepped into the room and a frosty wind swept the room, sending a torrent of ashes into the air that slowly drifted back down to the mound as the wind vanished. Tierfyr knew they were in his cavern; at his gravesite.
A harsh voice that echoed throughout the cavern boomed out. “Henrik…it is you. At last.”
Friedrich looked to Pheston in confusion, who shot an equally confused glance back. “Yes!” called Friedrich, speaking without thinking. “Yes, Tierfyer, it is I. Your archnemesis Henrik the Dragonslayer, here to put you to rest once and for all. I demand that you reveal yourself so that we can finally end our eternal battle.”
“You think me a fool?” asked the unseen spectre, making Friedrich clench his jaw. “I have grown stronger than you can possibly imagine. While you have wasted your time with the frivolities of your human life, I have been harnessing my power, biding by time until you stepped into my domain once again.”
“Only a coward hides his form,” said Friedrich.
“You dare?” asked Tierfyr.
Atop the ashen grave, appeared a behemoth of a creature as spectral as the phantoms, his presence felt every bit more real. His face was twisted into a serpentine scowl with his thick brow ridges furrowed and his snout puffing frosty air even in undeath. His eyes were sharp and piercing only overshadowed by the icicle-like horns protruding from the back of his head. His long body was curled atop the ash as his ridged tail slowly swayed, sending small puffs of the remnants into the air. With each passing second, the dragon’s form became more corporeal until there was only a subtle translucence through which the quartet of delvers could see the wall behind him.
Tierfyr reared up and unfurled his wings, giving a mighty roar as he reached his apex and then slammed down on his front feet and unleashing a cone of cold that Friedrich blocked with his shield as his allies leapt to safety. Not one to shy away from a fight, Pheston swung Vigr at the dragon only to be batted away by a swift claw that spun the Northman around and tossed him to the ground.
The dragon let out an irritated grunt at being struck by a flaming arrow. He turned his sights towards the Alaurian who was nestled atop an outcropping she had climbed to. His eyes were quickly pulled away upon seeing a swirling vortex of dust appear and cling to lightning as though it was solid. Marina stood a several yards behind Shockwave with her staff held out and a look of fierce determination on her face.
“You would bring a mage to the fight, Henrik,” bellowed the dragon. “A cowardly tactic!”
The dragon pounced and devoured Shockwave in a single bite, dissipating his magical energy back to the lightning plane, and making Marina buckle at the knees. The sudden eclipsing of a part of her arcane energy felt like a limb being hacked off, but she gritted her teeth and clung to her staff. The dragon was ready to lunge for her, but the edge of a shield cut across his cheek and he felt a powerful force knock his head aside, only to be struck again by the mighty swing of a long-shafted hammer.
He whipped himself around, following the momentum and swung his tail, knocking the two humans aside and casting their weapons from their hands while the elf continued to shoot arrows at him, burning him from the inside and causing him great pain. He charged forwards and smashed into the outcropping, causing it to crumble, but the elf threw herself to the ground to avoid a nasty fall. This was what he had hoped she would do.
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Tierfyr pivoted and clamped his jaw around her leg, sinking his teeth in deeply and readying himself to tear it from her with utmost force. A shot of lightning from a trembling staff coursed through the air, striking him in the throat and forcing a roar from him. In a flash, a burly minotaur leapt at the elf and shielded her from the dragon’s frost breath that would have been enough to kill the elf.
“Friedrich…” gasped Teleri, her leg bleeding so profusely.
Tierfyr thrust his head forward, flattening the minotaur who fell and turned into a fox and saving the elf from the hefty beast that would have crushed her ribs.
“Lad!” called Pheston, hurling the young man’s shield to him as he whipped his hammer from the ground and back into his hands.
The fox returned to human form and grasped his flung shield. He stood in defence of the elf as Tierfyr’s swing swept through the air and scooped up the mage, who coated hands in lightning and shocked the dragon into dropping her. Marina fell to the ground face-first and the jagged ground cut into her face. The dragon’s tail curled around her face and dragged her backwards, leaving large gashes across her and a trail of blood following.
The combined force of the swinging hammer and the thrust shield pushed the enraged undead back. An arrow to the tail from the downed elf caused his grip to lessen and the mage’s own lightning power did the rest, freeing her from the dragon’s clutches.
“Cease this madness!” called Friedrich as the dragon stumbled backwards while flailing his tails, wings and front legs in fury. “Die with honour and let this world go.”
“Never!” howled Tierfyr, taking arrow and lightning to the chest as he reared. He took a deep breath and spat an encompassing wave of frost that froze the very blood on the ground into solid ice.
Friedrich turned into the minotaur and charged through the freezing breath, pushing through the sensation of daggers to his skin. He jumped at the dragon and turned into a human again, bringing his magical shield down upon its head and forced its head to the ground, clamping its jaw shut.
As Tierfyr tried to right himself, Friedrich struck again and again, crushing the dragon’s head against the stone. All the while, his friends joined in the attack with Pheston rushing to his friend’s side with Vigr and the girls shooting arrows of flame and streams of lightning that struck the spectral dragon, whose essence was starting to flicker and his form becoming more notably transparent.
With a final lash, Pheston was knocked back, but Friedrich’s shield repelled the dragon’s attack. He thumped the edge of the shield into the dragon’s throat and Tierfyr let out an agonised gasp as his strength failed him. A final strike from fire and lightning and the dragon could not go on.
“This…cannot be…” uttered Tierfyr, collapsing into his grave and sending a wave of ash spewing out from it.
“Go now to the afterlife and rest,” said Friedrich. “Your time is up and you will suffer in undeath no more, white dragon.”
Tierfyr groaned and his wings twitched lightly as he dissolved into spiritual vapour that rose into the air and vanished into nothing. At long last, the dragon had left the Undercity behind; he had left Terna for a new home that would bring him peace.
Friedrich fell back onto the stone and stared at the high ceiling of the cavern. He was exhausted from the battle, but he was pleased in victory. His companions had performed admirably and he knew that he was the weak link with his limited magic. It was not lost on him that he had been so used to relying on his masked forms that his ability to fight as a human was not what it should have been. But soon, that would change. With the forging of a new weapon, he would bolster his might and have the strength to rescue his father.
Pheston walked over to him and held out a hand. Friedrich clutched his friend’s hand and was pulled to his feet. Marina rushed over, wiping the blood from her face with her cloak as Teleri walked over, slowly limping.
“Are you both alright?” he asked the girls. He took Marina’s head in his hands and looked at the cuts across her cheek.
“They’re surface level,” she said with a pained smile. “Don’t worry, they’ll heal.”
He knew she was lying; the cuts were quite deep and would scar her beautiful face.
“As will my leg,” said Teleri, her voice straining as much as Marina’s had.
Friedrich loosened his scarf and lifted the goblin and spider masks over his head. He took one in each hand and stared at them. His hands started to tremble, not wanting to let either of them go, but he knew it was the right thing to do. It was only for five minutes. He could last five minutes. He threw the spider mask to Teleri, who caught with a confused look on her face. The goblin mask, having grown much more attached to the Mercian, was harder for him to let go. His hand shook vigorously as he held it in front of Marina.
“Take it,” said Friedrich, “but…give it back soon.”
“Friedrich…” she muttered.
“Do it,” he said, taking a few steps back. “You’ll both heal from your wounds.”
Marina and Teleri looked at each other, both not much liking the idea, but it was certainly a solution to the problem. They rotated and each kept their eyes fixed on the other as they held Friedrich’s masks in their hands.
“Count to three?” asked Marina.
Teleri nodded. “One. Two. Three.”
They quickly raised the masks to their faces and Friedrich unwittingly lunged at them, not wanting them to take the souls that belonged to him. Pheston grabbed him around the neck with one arm and restrained him as the masks touched Marina and Teleri’s flesh. Their bodies began changing and, had they been able to scream, they would have done so. They were now experiencing the agony that Friedrich experienced with each transformation; a pain he was so accustomed to that it was normal.