Valhalla's Call

Hogni collapsed on his back, his undead skin cracking. Bursts of icy air sizzled from the openings as if to rid him of any trace of his existence as a draugr. 

Adam sighed and dropped on his rear. Breath ragged, he glanced at the proud warrior's smile one last time, unaware that a mystical scene unfolded in his dimming eyes.

A spectral horn enlivened the dreary crypt and jolted Hogni's failing heart into a drumming frenzy. He truly heard it.

Simultaneously, his pale skin turned rosy and supple. His burned, vine-like beard and hair sprouted again, swaying a gentle orange sheen. Then, the oh-so-disgusting stench of his decaying muscles dissolved to let a fresh, natural breath replace it. 

Despite the changes, he only focused on the horn. Then, the noise of thundering hooves and a raven's caws caused his knuckles to whiten and rare tears to roll down his cheeks.