"Oh, Kael, you look absolutely ragged right now!"

Gandalf leaned on his staff and eased himself onto a rock, eyes twinkling despite the scorch marks.

"If Arwen saw you like this, she might not want you anymore!"

Relaxed at last, Kael actually found room to tease back.

"You're not much better, Gandalf. You've got no beard or eyebrows left, and your grey robes are in tatters. If anyone saw you, they'd think you were a vagrant old man."

At that, Gandalf touched his jaw in dismay.

"Oh, my poor beard. I tended it for so long, and now it is gone."

He patted at his robes here and there, then drew his hands back with a sigh.

"A shame. My pipe and tobacco are gone. Otherwise, I would dearly like a smoke to settle myself."

Kael could do nothing for that. The pipe and leaf had burned up in the fight. He could conjure a pipe, perhaps, but not tobacco out of thin air.

When their breath returned, they approached the Balrog's corpse together.

Dead, it looked like cooled lava slag, hideous and grotesque, still radiating a residual heat.

Kael braced and pulled the divine spear Aeglos from the demon's chest. He studied the husk, then glanced at Gandalf.

"The Balrog is dead, and its flames are out. Does that mean the imperishable fire I wanted is gone too?"

Gandalf smiled faintly and shook his head.

"If it is called imperishable fire, it cannot be extinguished. The imperishable flame you seek is in the Balrog's heart."

Hearing this, Kael took up the Flammifer and cut open the chest.

Inside, there were no organs, only a furnace-like cavity. At the core lay the heart.

When he opened it, a red crystal revealed itself, radiating fierce heat. It was the size of a football, marked with a crack where Aeglos had pierced it. In the center, a tiny black flame flickered.

Even through the crystal, its heat was palpable and perilous, as if it could scorch spirit and soul just by being seen.

"This is the Balrog's magic crystal, its core," Gandalf said. "As long as the crystal is intact, the Balrog is not truly gone. Throw it into a volcano, and in centuries, it can be reborn."

"Then using it as the phoenix's nirvana fire will not be affected?" Kael asked.

"Do not worry," Gandalf replied. "Once we purify the flame within the crystal, there will be no hidden danger."

Kael let out a slow breath.

"Alright, we should head down. Balin and the others must be anxious by now," Gandalf added.

"Agreed." Kael glanced over the shattered heights. "And I would not mind a proper salve on these burns."

He had Smaug lift the Balrog's corpse. He and Gandalf climbed onto the dragon's back, and together they flew off the peak.

Herpo the basilisk hitched a ride by coiling around Smaug's leg, a very undignified but effective airborne serpent.

The dragon bore two riders, one serpent, and a Balrog's carcass down the eastern face of the Misty Mountains. They broke through cloud and swept into Dimrill Dale at Moria's eastern gate.

While Gandalf and Kael clashed with the demon in the deep, Balin and the thousand dwarf warriors had not been idle.

Orcs still held the First Hall and the eastern gate. Balin and his dwarves drove them out into Dimrill Dale. On the far side, Lórien's elves held the line. Together they crushed the orcs in a pincer.

By the time Smaug descended, the fighting had ended. Dwarves and elves were cleaning the field.

The elves spotted the dragon first as it dropped from the sky.

"A dragon!"

"Do not panic; it is Gandalf and Kael!" Balin shouted, his voice bright with relief as he saw the dragon's gilded armor in the sun.

It had been ten full days since the clash at Durin's Bridge, when Kael and Gandalf chose to cut the pursuit and fell into the abyss with the Balrog. Balin had not slept easily.

He had personally returned to the shattered span and found nothing but ruin. The bridge and cliffs had collapsed. Kael, Gandalf, the dragon, and the Balrog—all gone.

Only two days ago had Smaug flown out of the depths. From the dragon, Balin learned what he could of the battle below. Even so, until Kael and Gandalf returned, his worry gnawed at him. The Balrog's terror far surpassed the Smaug of old. This foe was beyond any dragon.

Then today, Smaug suddenly winged away toward Celebdil, as if sensing a call. Lightning flared atop the peak, thunder rolled, and flame licked the clouds. No one could see what happened through the shroud of storm, but Balin guessed the truth.

Now, seeing the dragon return with riders, he rejoiced. He knew.

As the dragon landed in Dimrill Dale, Kael and Gandalf slid from its back.

"Gandalf! Kael!" Balin hurried forward, eyes bright. "When I heard you had fallen into the abyss, my heart almost failed. To see you safe and sound, what joy!"

"Oh, Balin, it is wonderful to see you again," Gandalf said warmly. "It has been only days, and yet it feels like a lifetime."

Kael turned and blinked, surprise lighting his face.

"Arwen, how are you here?"

She stood before him in elven battle dress, wand and sword at her side, like a bright valkyrie under the dale's pale sky.

"Orcs fleeing Moria's eastern gate threatened Lórien," she said gently. "So I came to clear them. And I was worried about you."

She did not ask about the battle. She lifted a white hand, as if to touch the burns on his face, then hesitated. Her brows knit, pain flashing in her eyes.

"How did you get so badly hurt?"

Kael grinned and shook his head.

"Do not worry about me. It is mostly superficial. A few potions, and I will be fine."

"And we killed the Balrog," he added, when she still seemed troubled. He pointed at the black husk under Smaug's foot. "There. That pitch-black thing is the demon's true body. Impressive when it is all aflame, but ugly as sin once the fire is gone."

Arwen gave the corpse a glance, then looked back to him. She drew a bottle of Ent-draught from the spider-silk space pouch he had made for her and pressed it into his hand.

"Drink this. It will help your wounds."

Kael lifted his brows. "Is that the one I gave you? Why did you not drink it?"

"Ent-draught does not do much for me," she said with a warm smile. "I kept it for a time of need, and that is now."

"Go on, drink. Balrog fire is no trifle."

Kael did not argue. Up on Celebdil, the cold had numbed his burns. Down here, the heat made them sting fiercely.

He conjured a second bottle, split the Ent-draught in half, and handed one to Gandalf.

"Thank you," Gandalf said, and drank at once.

Relief flowed into both men. Weariness lifted. Burns knit and cooled. Magic returned like a deep breath after drowning.

Gandalf glanced ruefully at his chin.

"A pity it does nothing for eyebrows and beards."

All eyes turned to the demon's carcass.

"So this is the legendary Balrog," voices murmured. Elves and dwarves stared in awe and curiosity. Even dead, its presence inspired fear. Alive, it had been a nightmare made real.

Their gazes shifted to Gandalf and Kael. Reverence shone there.

This was the being that had destroyed Khazad-dûm and ruled the darkness for a millennium, making Moria a forbidden name among Men, Dwarves, and Elves. Now it lay broken at their feet.

Balin's joy swelled. With the greatest threat gone, the orcs remaining would be hunted down or driven out. Moria, the birthplace of Durin's Folk and treasure-house of mithril, could be reclaimed at last.

Balin assured them the dwarves could handle the rest. They did not need Kael and Gandalf to mop up. A few thousand orcs might remain, but dwarven steel would see to it.

Kael and Gandalf did not argue. After the ordeal with the Balrog, they needed real rest.

To prevent any orc from slipping away, Kael sent Smaug to guard the western gate and aid the dwarves in the final sweeps.

As for him and Gandalf, they would go to Lórien to visit Lady Galadriel and her kin and heal in the Golden Wood.

Before leaving, Kael borrowed dwarven space chests and stored the Balrog's corpse, the petrified Watcher in the Water that Smaug had carried up, and the basilisk for safe keeping.

Then he departed with Arwen and the elves for Lórien, while Balin and the dwarves set to their great work, the reclamation of Moria.