And then Balur saw it, bright and beautiful, blossoming in the back of the cave. Great gouts of fire that sparkled yellow and red in his dilated pupils.
The dragon. That was why he had come here. To show the world that he could defeat a dragon. To make the dragon know his name even as he took its life.
Some small, sobering part of Balur saw that fire and questioned if, just this once, wisdom shouldn`t be prevailing over bravado. A larger, drunker part of his mind shouted at that part to be fucking off. He was totally knowing what he was doing. Why was the other voice always nagging at him with its rational good sense? He was being a warrior, gods` hex upon it. He was having to do certaing things because they were being there. His actions were not having to make sense.
He set his shoulder and charged into the depths of the cave, toward heat, fire, rage, and glory.