In the middle of the vast cavern, surrounded by hovering balls of glowing gas, sat a large, black dragon. Not so huge Davidor couldn’t get both arms around its long, serpentine neck, but he’d need a ladder to get up there.

He swung Roona around and crouched beside her.

“What do you think?” whispered Davidor. “Frontal assault? I wonder if he breathes fire.”

I certainly do not.

The voice appeared directly inside their heads.

Death by belching—how disgusting. I take it you’re the advance party. Shall we wait for the others to arrive?

“I’m afraid there’s no one else coming,” said Davidor as he got back to his feet.

Don’t tell me you’re all they sent. You must be incredibly powerful, then.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I have been told my sword skills are above average. Isn’t that right, Roo?”

Roona carefully swallowed the saliva welling up in her mouth. Her throat had started constricting and soon she would lose the power to talk. Most of her energy, though, went into giving the impression she had nothing to do with the man standing next to her.

We shall see. You might as well come over here if we’re going to fight. Don’t worry, I won’t bite. Not yet.

Davidor sheathed his sword and scooped up Roona in his arms. Her head flopped against his chest. He started walking towards the dragon.

“Why are you carrying me like this?” said Roona in a hiss. “It’s undignified.”

“I don’t know, I think it makes me look quite manly.”

“I didn’t mean undignified for you, you oaf.”

Images played across the balls of gas—views of various battlefields from the air. He placed Roona on the ground, propping her against a large rock, and crept forward to get a closer look.

As you can see, the war is ongoing.

The dragon swung around to inspect another of the globes. Davidor leapt a good distance backwards to avoid the swishing tail as it swept past him.

Of course, what your side doesn’t know is that they are only facing a fraction of my forces. Once your comrades are on the verge of a momentous victory, I shall give the signal for the full might of my armies to descend on them. I can’t wait to see their faces. It should be quite amusing.

The tail went up and smashed downwards repeatedly as the Demon God chuckled to itself.

The man there, the Elven commander—what’s his name?

“Car Nor,” Roona whispered.

Yes, that’s right, Car Nor. See how he cuts through the ranks of the undead. Impressive. Even if he is only fighting the weakest of my forces, his effort cannot be faulted. A mighty warrior with a fine beard. I think I would suit a beard.

The dragon lifted its claw and rubbed at the underside of its elongated jaw. Davidor drew his sword and tried to size up his enormous opponent.

The dragon tilted its head. Are you sure you don’t need to sharpen it or anything?

“No. Ready when you are.”

As you wish. Here.

The dragon stamped down its right foreleg. Davidor looked at the large talons splayed at his feet, then up at the dragon, unsure of what he was meant to do.

I’m offering you the first strike. Have at it.

Not the kind of fight Davidor had expected, but he wasn’t one to turn down a free hit. He raised the sword above his head, decided to make it a two-handed effort, and brought the blade down. The sword made a sharp squeal and bounced off the scaly claw, leaving not so much as a scratch. He followed up with a stab, then hit from the side. He tried to slide the edge between the scales. Nothing worked.

Maybe try a run up?

Davidor took a couple of steps back and then ran forward. He leapt into the air, hands overhead with the sword pointed downwards, and forced it into the dragon’s foot with all his strength. The tip slid across the top and Davidor stumbled to keep his footing.

Refusing to give up, Davidor spun around and brought the blade down with momentum. Nothing. He twirled through the air, round and round, and then sliced at an angle. No effect.

The dragon lifted the claw into the air and swivelled it at the joint, as though stiff from keeping it in one place too long. Davidor didn’t miss the implication: arthritis posed more of a threat than him.

As the dragon brought its foot back down, Davidor dived under it, rolling onto his back and holding the sword straight up. With precise timing, he held the pommel against the ground as the bottom of the dragon’s foot touched the tip of the blade, and then rolled out of the way.

The dragon’s own weight would force the blade into its flesh, or at least so Davidor hoped. The sword snapped in two and went skittering in different directions.

Sweat coated Davidor’s face and his laboured breaths came fast and heavy. “One moment.” He sprinted over to Roona, who sat motionless with only the movement of her eyes suggesting she still resided within her useless body. “Need to borrow this.” He took her sword from its scabbard. “I don’t suppose this is made of magic Elven steel or anything.”

Her head shook almost imperceptibly.

“Didn’t think so. Anyway, have to go.”

He ran at the dragon, sword raised, but the blow he dealt produced the same result. Not a mark. It occurred to him that maybe the Demon God had very resilient feet. He attacked the neck, the not-so-soft underbelly, the tail, all with the same results.

Admit defeat? the dragon asked.

Davidor nodded, breathing hard and unable to think of what to try next.

Very well, now it’s my turn.

With a simple swipe of his claw, the dragon struck Davidor, sending him flying across the cavern. He slammed into the rock wall sideways on, his right arm shattering in the process. He fell to the ground, on the verge of passing out.

Through blurred vision, he saw the dragon approach Roona. It lowered its head, sniffing at her.

Ah, irizen. Who but the Elven would create a potion to enable great power at the cost of the drinker’s life? The level of stupidity is hard to calculate. Perhaps I should end your agony before it starts? Or, if you swear allegiance to me, maybe I’ll negate the effects, hmm? No, I think I’ll eat you. I haven’t eaten elf in such a long time, and you’re a particularly juicy specimen.

The jaws opened to reveal large, glistening teeth.

“Leave her,” cried out Davidor.

Little man, do you not understand? Her fate is sealed. Once the effect wears off, she won’t simply pass on—every cut and graze, every broken bone and severed artery the irizen has supressed, will turn her body into an inferno of pain. She will expire writhing in agony. Better you let me end her misery now, don’t you think?

Davidor rose to his feet. “As long as I live, her misery will continue. No, wait, that came out wrong.”

The dragon returned its attention to Roona.

Davidor staggered forward. “Touch her, and I will not only kill you, I will devour your eternal soul.”

The jaws about to close around Roona’s neck stopped moving. The Demon God did indeed have an eternal soul. It enabled the infinite cycle of reincarnation stretching back to before the world’s creation. Could a mere mortal know this? Did he have a way to carry out his threat? Of course not, the idea was ridiculous.

With the dragon lost in thought, Davidor started to run. On the ground lay his broken sword. His right arm hung limp, but he picked up the weapon in his left without slowing. He stretched it out in front as he ran, aiming at the eye now lowered to a reachable height.

The dragon’s gaze shifted at the last moment, but too late. The sword entered the large black pupil and met no resistance. The blade slid in easily, then the hilt, then Davidor’s arm up to the elbow. The dragon’s eyelid came down and Davidor heard his arm snap but felt nothing. The eyelid went back up and he fell backwards, his hand now empty.

The dragon froze in place. The sword lodged somewhere deep inside its brain severed the connection between mind and body. All at once, the huge body collapsed and lay there, unblinking eyes showing no signs of intelligence. But though it couldn’t move, its thoughts continued to be transmitted to Davidor and Roona.

No. No. To think it would end this way. So… so... very disappointing. I had such plans. A world working together towards a common vision. A beautiful dream now lost.

Davidor, his arms throbbing with pain, awkwardly rose to his knees. “Are you saying your goal was to create a better world?”

Of course. A world united through violence and terror. Who will remember me now? A mindless beast defeated by a great hero, that will be my legacy. Ha! And yet your name will become legend. Is that fair?

“Tell me something. Earlier you said you could negate the effects of irizen. Is that true?”

A simple matter. Elven magic is two parts child’s play for every three parts incompetence. But I have no intention of using the last of my strength for such a meaningless task.

“I’ll offer you something in exchange.”

What could you possibly have of interest to me now?

“My life. Restore her to full health and I’ll die by my own hand right here. You may not get the recognition you wanted, but neither will I. They’ll create some fictional version of me—tall, blond, beautifully trimmed beard. His name will be different, his accomplishments exaggerated beyond belief. The real me will be forgotten. And, best of all, you will make sure the thing I desire most is still here while I am not.”

Well, yes, that would be a most exquisite irony. But does she really mean so much to you?

“You’re the Demon God, can’t you confirm it for yourself?”

Davidor felt a strange sensation moving inside his mind.

Oh, yes. My, she really annoys you, doesn’t she? And yet…

“Is it agreed?”

Very well. But don’t think to cheat me. I wouldn’t abide such rudeness.

“You can trust me. But give me a moment to sort this out. It won’t be easy with my arms in their current condition.” Davidor clumsily gathered up Roona’s sword and levered it upright with his broken limbs. He managed to get it standing, the point of the blade wedged under his chin. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roona. Although immobile and unable to speak, her eyes expressed great anguish. She was fully aware of the idiot’s intention, and it made her furious.

“So, looks like I achieved the impossible,” he said out of the side of his mouth. “Sadly, though, I won’t be able to collect my reward. Never lucky. Okay. Ready?”

Tell me, human, what is your name?

“Davidor. You can call me Dav, if you want.”

Very well, Dav. I am Carlotqueskelet, Demon Lord of the Second Hell. You may call me Carlo. Let us begin.

A beautiful and haunting song filled both Roona and Davidor’s minds. A soft glow, yellow like sunlight, fell on Roona. Davidor saw the strength returning to her. He smiled and then, holding the sword steady between his wrists, he lifted his head up and brought it down sharply.

Roona watched her sword enter Davidor’s throat, slicing into him easily. A cascade of blood followed. She rose to her feet, powered by the energy now filling her body, and stretched out her hand, even though she could not reach him.

“No!”

Her scream reverberated around the cavern and for that one moment she only wished for the stupid idiot in front of her not to die. Not to leave her.

Her arm faded into an outline. Like dandelion seeds, the flesh and bone separated and floated away. The tiny particles once part of her weaved through the air towards Davidor, still loosely connected as they wrapped around him until he was enveloped.

Roona felt her existence unravelling, her arm already gone and the rest soon to follow. But at the same time, the dragon’s song restored her. Her arm reformed before her eyes, from her shoulder down to the fingertip. She was whole again.

In their minds, a voice spoke, distant and weak.

Liar! I am betrayed. No, this will not stand. I will have my reveeee…

And then it faded to silence.

Roona crashed to the ground, rolling onto her back. Everything about her body felt strange. Then she remembered to breathe and gulped down air. A scruffy, bearded face hove into view from above.

“So, I believe we had an agreement.” Davidor smiled his most evil smile.

Of course, there were a million ways for her to get out of the promise she had made. But at that particular moment, she couldn’t think of a single one.

***

Davidor finished telling the story of how the Demon God had been defeated. He left out a lot of the more personal details, and most of the bickering, but the main facts were all there.

The Assembly had listened with rapt attention as the story unfolded, although Davidor had the distinct impression particular individuals had been rooting for the Demon God.

“Thank you for sharing the truth of what happened,” said Queen Lyr. “We are certainly in your debt, both for preventing chaos from ruling, and for the life of my daughter. But it still doesn’t change the fact humans and the Elven are not meant to be joined. Even if you are Undeniable, you won’t live much past a hundred years. What do you expect Roona to do once you’re gone. She will be alone in your world.

Davidor shook his head. “Of course she won’t. I might not be there, but our children, our grandchildren, will be. She will always be surrounded by people who love her. But whether you agree or not no longer matters. We are leaving.”

He rose from his seat, full of determination and ready to live up to his threat. The room spun before his eyes. Darkness filled his mind and he sensed himself falling.

***

A breeze played across Davidor’s face. When he opened his eyes, a perfectly clear, cloudless blue sky was all he could see. He sat up with a jerk. Tall grass surrounded him. The lake sparkled below, but the bridge no longer existed.

He tilted his head back and howled. How had they done it? A drug? It wasn’t possible, he hadn’t touched any food. He’d have to wait another year before he could return. Another year!

“You’re awake, then?”

Davidor spun around, rising to his feet as he did. Roona stood there, a stalk of meadow grass waving back and forth in her hand. Behind her, two horses and two ponies waited with heavy saddlebags, and two boys ran in circles, whooping with joy.

“W-what happened? How did we—”

“You fainted.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“When was the last time you had something to eat?”

“Oh. I haven’t had much of an appetite recently.”

“Being Undeniable will protect you from a lot of things, but standing up too quickly on an empty stomach turns out not be one of them.”

“And they let us leave?”

“Of course not. Once they realised you were out cold, they wanted to tie you up and stick you in a cell. They might not be able to kill you, but they could keep you in a hole for the rest of your life.”

“Ha! Don’t they know I—”

“Yes, yes, I told them how you escaped from the prison in Gazmeer.”

“Naked. And with only a spoon.”

“Yes. I told them all about the spoon.”

“But did you tell them—”

“I didn’t have to, everyone guessed exactly where you hid the spoon. It’s nothing to be proud of. In any case, I told them we were leaving or I’d murder them all. And to show them how serious I was, I cut off my own hand.”

She lifted her left arm at the end of which... nothing.

“Wha—?”

Her hand popped out of the end of the sleeve. “See? I have a sense of humour.”

Davidor threw his arms up in horror. “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was, too. You should have seen your face. One day I’m going to have your portrait painted and that expression is exactly what I want hanging over the fireplace. It’ll make a great conversation piece.” She kissed him and instantly robbed him of his outrage.

“Ah, I never dared hope you’d stand up to them,” he said between kisses.

“I’ve been very selfish. I realise now. I wanted to wait until they changed their minds, but the only mind I have the power to change is my own. So I did.”

“I can’t quite believe it. After all this time.”

“Dav, tell me one thing. How did you discover being Undeniable prevented you from drowning?”

Davidor made an exaggerated gesture of shrugging his shoulders. “The obvious way. I jumped into some water.”

“But you can’t swim. What would you have done if it hadn’t protected you.”

“I didn’t really care. Those years alone were more painful than I can express. I began to think it might be better for you if I never returned.”

“Why would you think that? You said you’d wait, however long it took.”

“Yes, such was my intention, but the reality was harsher than I expected. Some things are harder to fight than dragons.”

She put her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. Next time I have a stupid idea, punch me.”

“Gladly. Right, you two. Let’s get out of here before Granny changes her mind and sends the Elven Horde after us.”

Gart strolled towards the lake, etching the view into his memory. “Will we ever go back to The Vale?” His voice carried no affection.

“Maybe one da—” Roona cut herself off as she received a sharp punch in the arm. “At least, not a for a very long—” Another punch landed. She rubbed her arm. “No, probably not.”

“Where are we going, Daddy? To fight dragons?” Fen hopped from one foot to the other in his excitement at the prospect.

“Don’t be silly,” said Gart. “Daddy already defeated all the dragons.”

Davidor picked up his youngest and plopped him down in a saddle. “We’re going to find adventure. And breakfast. Breakfast first.”

They all climbed into their saddles and rode away. But they did return to The Vale, thirteen years later.

End of Volume 1

~*~

Hey,

If you managed to read all four chapters of Volume 1 please leave a comment to let me know. Any comments (good or bad) would be appreciated. Cheers.

Volume 2 will start soon.