High in the sky, Durin had finally found the green dragon it had dreamed of. It embraced Dvalin tightly, even as Dvalin's claws scratched its skin, drawing black blood.
But to Durin, such pain meant nothing. Soon, Rhinedottir's "blessing" would heal it.
And besides, Durin was a little shy. It had only just met Dvalin, and already they were embracing.
It wanted to invite the green dragon to dance together in the sky.
"The way you dance in the sky is beautiful."
"I love to sing and dance too."
"Will you teach me how to dance?"
Ordinarily, Durin's massive body produced a voice like thunder, shaking the earth, frightening little beasts, rattling snow from the trees.
But now, facing the beautiful, elegant green dragon, Durin was shy. Its voice was as soft as a mosquito's wings, barely audible.
Dvalin was focused on the fight. It could not hear such a soft plea.
Barbatos, playing his harp, caught a faint sound, but how could an evil dragon, full of poison, speak such words? Make such sounds?
He thought he had misheard.
And so Dvalin struck again and again with its claws, leaving wound after wound on Durin's body.
Black poisonous blood sprayed from the wounds, staining the clear sky.
But Dvalin had overestimated itself and underestimated Durin.
Durin's weapon-body was immense, its defenses impossibly high, its poison blood inexhaustible.
No matter how many wounds Dvalin left on Durin's body, it could not threaten the black dragon's life.
Dvalin understood. To defeat this black dragon, it needed to strike harder, strike deeper.
So Dvalin reached its sharp claws toward Durin's chest, bared its fangs toward Durin's neck, and prepared to strike with all its might.
...
Now, as Dvalin's claws were about to tear into Durin's chest, as its fangs were about to sink into Durin's neck, the gentle Durin was still lost in its beautiful dreams.
It saw the green dragon embracing it tightly, its claws digging into its flesh as if to hold it closer.
A black dragon and a green dragon, like brothers, dancing together in the sky.
And the green dragon, like a long-lost family member, kissed its neck with warmth.
And the bard singing of freedom celebrated Durin's arrival, playing beautiful music.
But as Durin basked in this happiness, in this warmth, it felt its chest growing more and more painful. Black blood surged within it, as if something cold were carving into its chest.
Not only that, it felt sharp teeth sinking into its neck.
It hurt.
Its head grew dizzy.
Durin looked down in pain and saw the green dragon's claws, which had embraced it, now plunged deep into its chest, tearing its body open.
It saw the green dragon's head, which had kissed its neck, now biting deep, tearing away a piece of black flesh.
Blood sprayed.
Durin could feel its neck's blood vessels had been severed. Even breathing was difficult.
Lost in confusion, Durin's strength faded. Its massive body began to fall from the sky.
The poisonous weapon of war was falling.
Before its great body struck the ground, Durin turned its head with effort to look at the blood-stained green dragon in the sky.
In its gentle eyes, there was no hatred, only confusion.
With the last of its strength, it murmured to itself:
"I am so happy—"
"I brought Mother's blessing to this world—"
"I learned to dance, and I embraced the green dragon, danced with it in the sky—"
"I learned to sing, and I sang with the beautiful bard—"
"But—"
"Is this green dragon not my friend?"
"Why did it tear open my chest with its claws?"
"Why did it bite my neck with its fangs?"
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Mother was right—"
"This green land is truly a dangerous place—"
...
Soon, a deafening crash shook the earth.
Durin's massive body finally struck the ground.
The beasts in the forest fled in terror. Apples fell from the trees. A few hilichurls were crushed beneath it.
Its poisonous blood spread across the green land.
The gentle Durin, the strong Durin, finally felt its eyes grow wet.
"Mother—"
"Forgive me—"
"Durin is going to die. I can no longer go home to take care of you."
"In the future, please take care of yourself."
A single black tear fell from the corner of Durin's eye.
Its vision blurred. Its consciousness faded.
In its daze, it seemed to dream a long, long dream.
In the dream, Durin was not an ugly black dragon, but a handsome boy.
He sang songs of freedom, played a harp, and by his side followed a wisp of wind named Barbatos.
He awakened people's longing for freedom with his songs, led them to rise against the Lord of the Tower, overthrew the walls, tore down the storms, breathed the air beyond the walls, and gained freedom.
He loved this land. He gave his life to protect this land and its people.
But then, Durin's dream ended.
It was not that boy.
It was an ugly black dragon.
It could only sing out-of-tune old songs with its thunderous voice, dreaming of meeting the green bard.
And now, it was dying.
With its last ounce of strength, Durin opened its eyes.
It saw the once lush, peaceful land, now devastated by the spread of its poisonous black blood and scorched by fire.
Everything withered.
It saw animals dying from the poison. It saw people suffering from its curse.
In that moment, Durin understood.
The blessing its mother had spoken of was poison that brought death.