Renato staggered toward the Brain Pool, now reduced to a deep crater.
His knees were weak and his steps unsteady, but he still pushed on until he reached Balin.
The Old Dwarf's enormous, golden, gleaming body had returned to its original form. Hands on his hips, he surveyed the results of the battle with satisfaction.
The dragon's corpse lay at the bottom of the pool, its tentacles no longer writhing. The once-arrogant Elder Brain had become a mass of charred sludge.
Hearing Renato's footsteps, Balin turned his head, concern flickering in his eyes.
"Lad, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Balin." Renato looked at the Old Dwarf, unharmed and delighted, yet an inexplicable unease rose within him.
Renato opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but he did not know where to begin.
The Touch of Dakoul had healed most of his injuries, but the Legendary Dragon's breath had corroded and rusted his armor.
The Mountain's Embrace had lost its former luster, and flakes kept falling from his mithral gauntlets.
Renato must have looked a sorry sight.
The Old Dwarf took two steps closer and laid his hand on the Mountain's Embrace.
Searing white light emerged from Balin's palm, gradually spreading along the metal patterns on the armor.
The light was warm and bright, like coals burning at their hottest in a forge. Faintly, Renato seemed to hear the ringing of hammers and the wheezing of bellows.
Those sounds carried a steady rhythm, almost like a song.
The light in the Old Dwarf's hand gradually faded, and he murmured:
"Ah, what a tough, good lass." Balin patted the breastplate. "There, all fixed. From now on, you'd better take good care of this reckless human lad for me, understood?"
As they drew closer, Renato should have been able to see him