A chill descended on the room. The stillness of the air took on a tangible quality, even the motes of dust seemed to stop drifting and hung there, stunned by Davidor’s proclamation. Then the silence snapped as an uproar filled the room, a thick fog of sound unified in expressing one thing: outrage.

“Quiet!” Car Nor jumped to his feet, his booming voice in stark contrast to his previous tone. The silence immediately returned. “Davidor, have you lost your mind?”

“No,” said Davidor, his eyes on the Queen. “Only my patience. My children have grown into little men, already. How many more years do you expect me to miss? Roo wanted me to wait, out of respect for you, but you don’t deserve my respect. Lyr, you have a cruel heart. Let us leave or suffer the consequences.”

The Queen smiled and nodded, as though confirming something to herself. “Nobody doubts your abilities, Davidor, or your achievements, but do you really believe you could defeat the entire Elven nation?”

“Yes,” said Davidor.

“Please, Queen Lyr, allow me to teach this madman his place.” The voice belonged to the giant elf who once again stood at the ready.

Roona stood, shifting Tor in her arms so he fit better on her hip, and twisted around. “Don’t be ridiculous! He defeated the Demon God single-handed. Do you really believe you would be anything more than a mild inconvenience to him? And that was before—now he wouldn’t even have to break a sweat to beat you into a pile of mush. Sit down and be quiet.”

Dazed by the onslaught, the giant elf slumped back to his seat.

“What do you mean, single-handed?” The Queen’s voice lost its vicious edge to confusion. “Our understanding was you defeated the Demon God together. Are you saying you weren’t there?”

“I was there,” said Roona, “but little more than a witness. It was Davidor who fought and killed the Demon God.”

“What do you mean? Why didn’t you—?”

“Because I had taken irizen.” Gasps sounded around the room. “The effect had already started to wear off. It had enabled me to fight my way to the temple, but by the time we reached the inner sanctum, I couldn’t even walk, never mind wield a sword. All I could do was watch.”

Conflicting emotions washed over the Queen’s face and her voice came out in a whisper. “But where did you get irizen? It hasn’t been—”

“Tas Tel Muir Ley gave me a vial before I left. He didn’t expect me to return and neither did I.”

Quiet descended on the Assembly as everyone tried to process what they had heard.

“You said Davidor would be able to easily defeat young Bellerin, even before. Before what?"

“Oh,” said Roona. “Before Davidor became Undeniable.”

An even more pronounced gasp spread around the room. Davidor could swear he felt a breeze sweep across his face.

“What nonsense are you speaking, child?” The Queen now also stood. “How is that possible? He is human.”

“He may be human,” said Rona, quietly, “but he is Undeniable. He is immune to pain or injury. He cannot be cut or bruised.”

“Or poisoned, burnt or drowned,” added Davidor, enjoying the looks on all their faces, until he caught the one on Roona’s. She held his gaze with hers in a way that pierced his soul.

“What is Undeniable?” asked Tem.

Roona unlocked eyes with Davidor and shifted her attention to her son. “It’s an ancient Elven gift one person can give another, but only if they truly love that person, and it is very, very rare. The last time was over a thousand years ago.”

“No,” said Queen Lyr, shaking her head. “It isn’t possible. It can’t be.”

A dagger struck Davidor on the side of his head. It bounced off and clattered to the floor.

“Hey, careful, you could’ve taken my eye out.”

“No,” said Roona, “I couldn’t.”

“Well, no,” said Davidor, “but what kind of example is that to set? Boys, don’t ever throw knives at your father.”

Two daggers immediately struck Davidor, one on the arm, the other on the leg, followed by giggles.

“Wait,” said Car Nor, “to become Undeniable takes more than a love beyond reason, it requires the sacrifice of a life. And you appear to be very much alive, Roona.”

“Yes. The Demon God saved me.”

“He did?” The Queen sounded endlessly flabbergasted. “But why would he do such a thing?”

“I made a deal with him,” said Davidor. “I can be quite persuasive when I want to be. I direct your attention once again to the two young gentlemen.”

The Queen sat back down with a bump. “Nothing makes sense anymore. Why did you keep this from me?”

“Because he asked me,” said Roona.

The Queen turned to Davidor. “For what reason?”

“Not him,” said Roona. “Tas Tel Muir Ley. He asked us both not to tell anyone. He felt it would be divisive if people knew a human had alone been responsible for saving us all. But the way things turned out, the distance between our worlds has only grown, so it makes little difference to reveal the truth now.”

“Then tell me. Tell me the truth of how you defeated the Demon God.”

For the first time Davidor felt the Queen had shown him her true face, without anger, or resentment or spite. The face of a mother who worried about her daughter. So he told her.

***

A war raged across the continent. Massive armies clashed and thousands perished on a daily basis, but neither side held the advantage for long.

Far from the fighting, in a tunnel that led from a the lowest levels of a supposedly impregnable temple to deep inside a mountain, two people made their way into the heart of the Demon God’s lair.

Although, more accurately, one person made his way while dragging the second behind him.

“Leave me here,” said Lady Roona, First Warrior of the Elven Horde.

“What, and have no one witness the Demon God’s defeat at my hands?” said Davidor, a man of no reputation up till this point. “Wouldn’t be much fun. In any case, I fight better with an audience. Plus, you still have an important role to play.”

“What role? What good am I when I can’t even stand up?”

“You sell yourself short. I will attack the Demon God while you give him the evil eye.”

“I’m not a spellcaster. I don’t know how to ‘give him the evil eye’.”

“Of course you do. Look at him the way you look at me. The sight of your violent disapproval should have him on his knees in no time.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“I’m being perfectly serious. Look at him like you’re extremely disappointed by his choices. It’ll sap his self-confidence, trust me.”

Roona didn’t answer.

“Roona? Are you still with me?”

“Yes. I was just practicing.”

Inky darkness surrounded them, the dwellers of this place needing no illumination to find their way around. Davidor had Roona by the back of her collar, scraping her across the uneven surface as he tapped the ground ahead with the tip of his sword. Not a very dignified way to travel, but it not uncomfortable thanks to her body’s numbness from the neck down.

Davidor stopped and tapped in various directions with the tip of his sword. “The tunnel splits into two, here. Any ideas which way to go?”

“The one going down.”

“Okay,” said Davidor. “Which is the… ?”

“The left one.”

“You can tell, just like that?”

“The Elven home is not dissimilar to this place. Better furnishings and lighting, but otherwise not much different.”

“See. You’re already proving yourself useful. So, you live underground? I always thought you’d live in elaborate treehouses. But then, I also thought you’d be a lot smaller and wear a pointy hat.”

“You’re thinking of pixies.”

“Am I? Oh.” Davidor continued the journey, jerking his companion into motion.

“This is pointless, I’m already dead. Why can’t you understand?”

“Why can’t you have a little more faith? How many times have I saved your life already?”

“I don’t kn—”

“Seven. No reason why I can’t make it eight.”

“I didn’t realise you were keeping score.”

“Of course. How else will we know who’s winning?”

“You realise we’re on the same side? And how many times have I saved your life?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Is it two or thr—”

“Nine.”

“Really? I hadn’t realised you’d caught up.”

“It makes no difference. I have taken irizen. It is why I was able to fight on, even after I was injured. It more than doubled my strength and my stamina.”

“So, you’ve been cheating.” Davidor shook his head, although the darkness prevented Roona seeing it, even if she’d been facing the right way. “We’ll have to deduct points for that.”

“And once it wears off, the side-effects kick in. Those side-effects being paralysis, followed by agonising pain and certain death. Even if you manage to drag me to the centre of this mountain it will serve no purpose, I’ll still die. Better you save your strength for the battle ahead and let me meet my end alone.”

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sure there’s some way to fix whatever ails you.”

Roona scoffed. “Ha. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Perhaps if the others had listened to me, they would still be here. I told them not to get on the boat.”

There had been nine of them. The greatest warriors of their generation, gathered from all nations, picked after a tournament to choose the mightiest of the mighty. Secretly, they had made their way behind enemy lines to bring down the Demon God in his stronghold. The world’s best hope for victory, but they had fallen before even entering the labyrinth under the mountain, leaving only two.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“How did you know the behemoth was going to devour the boat?”

“I didn’t. But a small wooden platform in the middle of a large expanse of water is not an advantageous battleground. Plus, I don’t know how to swim, so I avoid crossing water whenever possible.”

“Wait, that’s why you didn’t want to get on the boat? I’m such a fool. I genuinely thought you had some gift of foresight. We’re doomed. I wonder if it’s too late to switch sides.”

Davidor continued to tap-tap his way forward. “You worry too much. We’ve already come this far, just the two of us. Once we reach the end of this tunnel, assuming it has one, we only need to kill one Demon God and the world will be saved.”

“What is it, exactly, that makes you think you will be able to beat him. You aren’t as strong as Kel, nor as fast as Nori, and while your sword skills are above average, they’re nothing as impressive as Feltham’s.”

Their comrades had all been masters of their particular arts, each expert with their chosen weapon, while Davidor had no speciality. During the trials by combat, he never used the same approach twice, and only scraped through every time.

“And yet those three are all dead and here I am. Victory doesn’t require you to defeat your opponent’s strength, it only requires you to defeat their weakness. As long as you know where they’re vulnerable, you have a chance.”

“I see. And you’re good at finding weaknesses, are you?”

“Not bad.”

“Then tell me, what is my weakness?”

“Well, you’re unable to walk and you can’t hold a sword.”

Roona let out a breath that sounded more like a growl. “I mean before I ended up like this.”

“You have a soft heart.”

Roona burst out laughing. “What are you talking about? I am Roona Set Neer, Elf Without Mercy. Do you think they named me thus because of my kind and gentle nature?”

“I’m well aware of your reputation. Back at the tournament they called you the Murder Elf.”

“Hmm, it has a good sound to it. I like it.”

“But someone so relentlessly unforgiving must be trying to protect something very fragile. I suspect you were horribly betrayed at some point, and now you trust no one, especially not an enemy who wishes to surrender. A ploy so they can stab you in the back when you let your guard down.”

After a long pause, Roona spoke again. “It was my father, not I,  who was betrayed. I fail to see how it is a weakness, though. All my enemies are dead, and dead people rarely break their word.”

“One day, someone will break through your defenses and like parched earth receiving its first drops of rain, you will soak it all up and become overwhelmed. You will become fanatical in your devotion, and then, I suspect, you will do something extremely foolish. Fanatics tend to be terrible at making decisions, in my experience.”

“You really are an idiot. The only thing I’m fanatical about is punching you in the mouth. Fortunately for you, I will be dead before my dream can come true.”

“Such a pessimist. What will you give me if I am able to defeat the Demon God and save your life?”

“Miracles don’t happen just because you’re desperate.”

“Miracles happen only when you’re desperate. Such a miracle would surely deserve a fitting reward.”

“Can’t you do it because it’s the right thing to do? Have you no honour?”

“The fact is, a properly motivated warrior will fight beyond his means. Which is why the king offered us each a reward of our choosing. What did you ask for?”

Before they had left on their mission, the king had summoned all nine warriors and granted each a request to be fulfilled if they achieved victory, whether they returned or not.

“I asked for a cessation of hostilities between humans and the Elven. What did you ask for?”

Silence.

“Davidor, what did you ask for?”

“Well, obviously it isn’t going to sound very good compared to your grand and noble gesture.”

“Davidor?”

“I asked for a statue.”

“A statue of what?”

“A statue of me. I wanted it placed in the central square in front of the palace. The king will have to see me standing over his kingdom every morning.” Davidor chuckled to himself.

“Why would you ask for something so pointless?”

“It’s not pointless, it’s funny. He’s such a narcissist, the idea someone else will be seen as saving the kingdom will drive him crazy. That’s the inscription I insisted on. Davidor - Saviour of the World.” He laughed again.

“I see. You want a statue, but he’s the narcissist.”

“The problem with you Elven is, you have no sense of humour. Anyway, my point still stands. So, what do you think would be a suitable reward for achieving the impossible? Perhaps a night of passion with an enthusiastic Elven princess?”

“When the Demon God rips your heart out of your chest it will mean a victory for the forces of darkness and a thousand years of chaos, but I’m starting to see it as not all bad.”

Davidor stopped moving, changed his grip on the back of Roona’s collar to get better purchase, and then set off again. “Since I am the only person left who can save the world and everyone in it, would it be so great a sacrifice to simply offer me a little encouragement? You could at least cheer me on, even if insincerely. After all, it’s not like either of us will make it through this alive. What have you got to lose?”

“My self-respect,” said Roona, emphatically.

“And is your self-respect worth more than the lives of everyone counting on us to succeed?”

Roona let out a long, rasping breath. “I suppose you make a fair point. Very well, if you defeat the Demon God—which is highly unlikely—and also rescue me from death—an impossibility—then I, Roona Set Neer, First Warrior of the Elven Horde, vow to use my mouth, my tongue and my hands to pleasure you from sunset to sunrise. Happy now? Feeling motivated?”

Davidor didn’t reply, but suddenly their speed increased. For a second Roona wondered what she would do if he actually managed the impossible, and in the dark tunnel in the centre of the mountain she blushed at the images appearing in her mind.

An hour passed before either spoke again. Davidor came to a sudden stop and said, “I can see something.”

“What is it?”

“A light. I think.”

“Well, try getting closer.”

Davidor started moving again. “What do you think the Demon God will look like?”

“A demon?”

“Have you seen a demon before?”

“No. Not in the flesh.”

“Apparently, according to the old stories, they can take on any form they wish. I’m hoping he’s a little old man. Or maybe a small child.”

“How charming. Do you have a plan?”

“Yes. I’m going to hit him with my sword. Repeatedly.”

“Brilliant. I see you’re also a master tactician.”

“Any chance of a kiss for good luck?”

“Certainly. Since my mouth is the only part of me that still works, a kiss is the only way to rip your stupid tongue out of your fat head. Then, at least, my last moments won’t be filled with your inane prattling.”

“I’ll take that as a no. There’s a doorway of some kind. We’re close, try not to die before we get there.”

“I can taste the poison in the back of my throat. I doubt I’ll be able to hold on much longer.”

“Tell me, isn’t there a big, strapping elf waiting for you back home? Some prince or duke or whatever must have expressed an interest, no?”

“There have been many. But I have a strict policy when it comes to marriage. Defeat me in mortal combat and I am yours.”

“Wait, in mortal combat? You mean to the death? How would that work?”

“We’ll never know. No one ever took me up on the offer.”

Davidor laughed quietly to himself. “I’ve heard of playing hard to get, but you... Good thing we’ve already come to an arrangement.”

“What do you mean? What arrangement?”

“Once I save you, and the world, you’re going to use your mouth and tongue and fingers, you remember.”

“Oh, that.”

“You’re not pretending you didn’t say all those things, are you?”

“Of course not. My word is sacrosanct. Please do your best.”

“Thanks. I will. Okay, this is it. I hope there isn’t another tunnel through here.”

The light coming through the archway wasn’t particularly bright, but after so many hours in the darkness, Davidor stepped through shielding his eyes with his forearm. It took a few seconds for his vision to settle.

“Oh,” was all he could think to say.

“What is it? What can you see?” Roona still faced the wrong way and didn’t have the strength to even turn her head.

“It seems the Demon God is a dragon.”