"I love it!" he hollered. "You are a worthy adversary, Necrosoph. Deserving of your victories. I look forward to battling you again when the time comes. What a treat that will be. Oh, and as for you," he said, glaring at Tyr, "next time we meet, I will skin you alive and use your hide to make a fine belt. Be warned, dragon, you will not be forgiven for this. Until next time." With a salute, he walked forward several paces then a rend in the fabric of our world opened.

  Cheeky fucker!

  MEET THE ELVES

  The eye into the faery realm wobbled. Eleron stumbled forward then regained his composure and shifted his shoulders back. As he stepped through, he turned and grinned at me, the bastard.

  I put my hand onto Tyr's flank as I gasped for breath, feeling nothing but pain and an anger like I'd never felt before.

  "What gives you the right? What makes you think you can play with us like this? I'll fucking kill you. You hear me? I'll find a way, then tear you to pieces."

  "I am an elf," he laughed, as he carefully brushed a lock of golden hair from his cold, hard eyes. "You cannot harm me. Look what you did to me, but I am already mended. Haha, I do so enjoy our little fights, Necrosoph. What a treat. And they all enjoy the spectacle. I'm quite the celebrity nowadays." Eleron turned sideways and lifted his already repaired arm to indicate I look. I caught a quick glimpse of untold thousands of elves seated in rows, then my elven nemesis turned back to me and blocked the view. The air shimmered around him, making it impossible to focus on what was behind.

  "I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't care. Just know I keep my promises," I growled, then bent forward, coughing. I spat; it was bloody. Was I done for? Internal bleeding? I felt awful, beyond battered, but I didn't think so. When had he even got to me? Something was missing, some part of the fight I couldn't recall. Bloody elves and their twisted magic.

  "Haha, I look forward to the next time. And I can't wait until your offspring are older. Now, that will be some real fun. Girls are always so hilarious when they know they're about to die." Eleron turned his back to me and waved over his shoulder. His hair shone brightly in the beautiful light from his home world.

  "Elf threaten Tyr. Threaten Soph. But also Jen. Jen is Tyr's best friend. Tyr will destroy elf." His jaw snapped shut and he snorted loudly, angrier than I think I had ever seen him. Maybe even angrier than me. Tyr didn't usually get cross, he merely acted in a way he believed was right. But this was different. This was personal. "Will burn," he hissed. His eyes darkened, his body tensed as long teeth dripped thick saliva. It hissed as it hit the ground, burning tiny holes through the sand.

  "Good luck with that," I mumbled.

  "Thank you," he growled.

  Somehow, I was off my feet and moving back. It took me a moment to realize Tyr had physically lifted me in his jaws. Before I had a chance to complain, he flung me onto his back between the ridges. I landed straddling him right on the saddle that was now a permanent part of his hide in anticipation of Jen riding him when older. My clothes smoldered where the slightly acidic saliva burned the cotton. Note to self. Don't let this happen again.

  "Hey, what are you doing?" I shouted, as Tyr began to move.

  "Burn," he hissed, the emanations coming from him leaving me in no doubt that he was deep into the bloodlust now. He thundered forward, pounding the ground, picking up speed incredibly fast. I tensed my thighs to hold tight then gripped the blunted, spread spines in front that acted like handles as Tyr pelted towards the eye and Eleron.

  "Tyr kill evil elf. Tyr buuuuuurn," he hissed as his wings angled and we were airborne. Tyr flew low to the ground, his belly almost scraping the sand, then tucked in his wings. With his head low, he darted forward and slammed into the back of the receding figure of Eleron, sending him sprawling forward.

  My brain felt swollen as if it would burst from my skull, the pressure unbelievable, and my nerves lit up like the nastiest morph I'd ever performed, as we passed from our realm into somewhere I'd believed it was impossible to venture.

  As I screamed in agony and my guts threatened to burst from my anus and my eyes bulged dangerously, temporarily blinding me, Tyr sailed past the prone elf and then it was as though the brakes had been slammed on. We stopped dead, all our mighty momentum suddenly gone, and Tyr dropped like a boulder. I tumbled from his back and rolled over and over on ground that smelled so sweet I wanted more than anything to just cease moving so I could lick it and dream delicious dreams.

  With a mouthful of sweet-tasting dust, I finally stopped tumbling and jumped to my feet then turned in time to see the eye revealing where we had been a moment before. The air sparkled around the tear in reality and my insides twisted as I expected it to snap closed, marooning us here for a brief moment until we exploded, turned to ash, burst into flames, or something even more horrific. But it remained open. A giant eye in the sky that Tyr and I had just flown through. Into, and I couldn't believe I was thinking this, the land of the elves.

  I spun at the sound of thunderous applause, and found myself standing in the middle of a meadow full of flowers that put Job's summer display to absolute shame. Curved around it in a semi-circle were tier upon tier of bright green grassy banks that rose up and up. Standing on the tiers, applauding loudly, were tens of thousands of elves in clothes of every hue. The air shimmered with magic around each and every one of their smiling faces as they clapped their slender hands together, seemingly staring right at me.

  I turned, not quite believing what I was seeing, the amphitheater too large to truly appreciate, and was confronted with an astonishingly vast curved screen. Bigger than anything I had ever seen or envisioned. It must have been longer than a street and easily forty, maybe fifty meters high. The resolution was incredible. Better than real life. Was this how the elves saw things? There were details in the details, bringing reality truly into another dimension. It felt more three dimensional than the world around me. And guess who had the honor of being featured in all his gnarly, bloodied, unkempt, and disheveled glory? Did I really look like that? I guessed so.

  Perfectly circular glowing silver orbs danced around me erratically, reflecting pale light from a sun high in the sky. Cameras, I assumed. Drones of the elves. Overwhelmed, I was glued to the screen. The images displayed switched seamlessly every few seconds in perfect cuts from close-ups of me to wide angles encompassing both myself and the joyous crowd. They erupted with deafening cheers every time they were featured.

  Suddenly, the image switched to Tyr's face. Silence fell like a hammer blow. I could practically taste the anticipation, the weight of it almost physical on my mind. The drone hovered in front of Tyr and then on the screen his impossibly large eye opened. Purple iris, orange sclera in incredible detail stared out at us all. The scene zoomed out to show both eyes and part of his head. The scales shimmered myriad colors as Tyr's confusion revealed itself.

  The spectators erupted into a frenzy of applause and shouts as the angle changed then faded into a full-body shot of Tyr as he stood and whipped his head around, baring his teeth and snorting through his nose as his spines bristled and he spread his leathery wings wide.

  A quick zoom in on the eye once again, timed perfectly to capture the bloodlust return and his orbs slide to deadly dark red. Full of murderous intent.

  He belched a geyser of flame that scorched the flowers, turning them to ash in an instant. The elves went utterly wild with cheers, then a chant began.

  "Tyr. Tyr. Tyr."

  Utterly bewildered, unsure if I was dreaming or not, and feeling sick to the pit of my stomach, with a headache akin to the worst hangover in history times a thousand, I staggered almost blind over to his side once the flame dispersed and rapidly swung myself onto the saddle despite my protesting joints.

  Instantly, the fog cleared, my stomach settled, my muscles were my own once again, and the heaviness in my limbs dispersed, leaving them light and seemingly brimming with energy. It was the connection to Tyr that would save me from this place. I had to stay close if I was to remain in control. Otherwise, the sheer otherworldliness of this taboo land would destroy me. The saddle was a tight fit. He wasn't really large enough yet to accommodate me, but there was no choice. It was a sore bottom or die. I knew which one I'd prefer.

  "Get us the fuck out of here, Tyr, before this shit gets really weird. If that's even possible."

  "Tyr sorry. Not know would be so many."

  "Yeah, I think even you might have a hard time burning this many elves. Come on, let's go," I whispered into his ear.

  But my whisper was a boom as the screen relayed every sound we made.

  The masses continued to chant as Tyr stretched out his neck and turned to face the eye.

  Eleron stood in front of it, grinning like the twatface he was, and I told Tyr, "Just forget about him. We need to get home."

  "Tyr must kill elf for threat."

  "Kill. Kill. Kill," roared the audience.

  "My, now that was unexpected. But they came for a show," he indicated the crowd, "so let's give them one. This will go down in history. The first human to ever pass through, and all because of me! You truly honor us this day. And you brought your pet. How wonderful." Eleron ran fast and agile from the eye and stood in the middle of the field, his hair blowing on a warm, gentle breeze; he grinned as he beckoned us with his hand.

  "No, Tyr. We must leave. Ignore him."

  "Elf challenges Tyr. Cannot fight it. Must engage."

  "Okay," I acceded. I knew he had to do this, that it was a matter not of pride so much as honor and duty. Not only had he been threatened by Eleron, but so had Jen. She was his ward, he hers, true friends with deep love for each other, and he would not, could not, let the threat pass without action.

  "Tyr can fight?"

  "Like I have any choice," I laughed. "Just make it quick. But you can't kill him. You can't kill elves. But do what you must to satisfy your honor then take us fucking home. I can't stay here, it hurts too much. And stay close. Without you, this will destroy me in seconds. Understand?"

  "Tyr understand." He nodded once then stampeded. The ground shook then we were flying, surging towards the elf in a battle televised in definition higher than reality itself.

  Tyr stretched out his thick neck and I felt his chest rattle as he drew in a sharp, deep breath. His insides rumbled loudly as the fires within were stoked by the oxygen. I clung on for dear life, about as used to riding dragons as I was hedgehogs.

  Tyr roared.

  A wide torrent of flame shot forward as I hunkered low to avoid the backdraft as best I could, but there was no avoiding the heat as we sped directly through the air Tyr had basically incinerated. I wasn't sure you could actually burn air, basically give it the finger and tell it to fuck right off, but it sure felt like it.

  Tyr turned sharply, ready for another fly by. Eleron was gone. Could Tyr have cremated him? Could you even do that to an elf? I turned to check behind us as Tyr banked for his second pass, and saw Eleron jumping to his feet from his prone position amongst the flowers. The throng cheered for him, but then began to chant Tyr's name, and mine, as we headed straight back for more.

  My dear companion expunged a line of flame at the ground that chased after Eleron as he danced forward. Just as we passed overhead, he skipped aside easily, outmaneuvering Tyr. We both roared in frustration, but Tyr was no dumb creature, and he swiped out with a forequarter claw and snagged Eleron under the arm, dragging him off his feet.

  I grinned at the stunned elf, but felt sick at the sight of the ground racing by.

  The crowd gasped as Tyr lifted the elf higher, ready to chomp down on his head and finish this, but the fabric tore and Tyr lost his grip on him.

  Eleron bounced hard on the flowers and was still for a moment. Tyr circled once then swooped, ready to burn again, but our quarry was up and smiling for the drones, his stupid, perfect face impossibly large on the screen.

  All of this had happened so fast since we came into this place that I was still bewildered and trying to play catch up. I had never been to another realm. Even Pethach, who had traveled extensively into dangerous places, had never been here. To the best of my knowledge, nobody had.

  You couldn't even know the name of this world, and the elves themselves were unable to speak of it, even think much of their world when in ours because, just like the goblins and other Necro creatures not of the earth, it hurt so much.

  What chance did we have?

  Every chance. I refused to even consider losing. That was not who I was. Not here. Not anywhere. Not with a crowd or working alone. Losing without giving my all was not in my blood. I focused on Eleron and nothing else, knowing this was a battle same as all the others. And I always, always emerged the victor, no matter the cost. Fuck the spectators. I had to ignore them, not feel the pressure. They could watch one of their own die if they wanted, but that was on them, not me. I hadn't asked for this. If some bloody elf wanted to play stupid games, then he picked the wrong fucking guy to party with.

  Distracted, I almost got myself burned as Tyr spat fire. I flattened against his hide just in time and watched as Tyr hit his mark. Eleron burst into glorious flame. His entire body was engulfed as the torrent raged around him and danced high into the perfect air.

  Tyr landed gracefully. About as cool as cool can be. I jumped down and stood beside him. Watching. Waiting.

  I turned to the screen and sneered. A drone zoomed in for a closeup and my grin grew wider as it was broadcast to the masses. Were others watching too? Were there millions of elves sat crowded around screens at home, or glued to strange devices I couldn't even imagine?

  As the crowd was silenced by Eleron's excellent impersonation of a burning effigy, the screen simply blinked out of existence. There was nothing there. Just a simple pole either end of where the picture had been. A view opened up to a magical vista I had no time to admire.

  There was uproar. They booed and hissed and I could see that untold thousands looked down at devices they held, only to chatter amongst themselves as a murmur of discontent blossomed.

  Then the screen flipped back on, seemingly from nowhere, to reveal thousands of images of endless battles to the death. Men and women, old and young, punching, kicking, biting, clawing, stabbing, shooting, rolling, and gouging whilst screaming in victory or begging for mercy. The primal brutality of it all shook me to my core. The Necroverse worldwide in action as we watched.

  I understood then exactly what this place was and what was happening. I was merely their daily, or hourly, entertainment. As soon as I had fought, had killed or been killed, no matter how popular I currently was with the elves, there was another to take my place.

  Maybe we all had our fans. Maybe those assembled were mine. But I assumed that for every poor soul not on the screen, each still had their own supporters who dipped in and out of their lives when they saw fit. Probably just when the battles were close. But who knew? Maybe there were countless millions watching the everyday crap we all did.

  But how?

  A link via the Necrodrones, or another way? They probably had their own ways of viewing, something like the eye maybe, or maybe not. The details weren't important. What I knew was that I was correct. I was just part of the feed, one amongst countless. Their entertainment. Their addiction.

  And then the screen flickered again as the fights cut out one by one. Left to right in lines across the monstrous projection. Slowly at first, second by second, then the remaining thousands simply vanished.

  I knew instantly what it was.

  "Ha," I shouted, although I doubted they could hear. I was wrong though, as a drone zoomed close and my voice was magnified. "Guess your internet's down too. Fucking kill switch, bitches. Come here, you." I beckoned to the drone with a crook of my finger, careful to keep my other hand on Tyr's flank to ground myself. It approached cautiously, then suddenly dropped at my feet. The other drones did likewise, and somehow I knew for a fact deep down inside that whatever their version of the internet and mass communication was, it too had been severed.

  Elven kill switch in action.

  "Soph be careful," warned Tyr.

  I turned as Eleron charged forward, naked and regal, beyond beautiful with black steaming rags trailing in his murderous wake. Blisters covered his body and his hair was full of soot, but even as he covered the short distance his skin shone and regained its vitality. His hair was once more an annoying lovely blond.

  Tyr smashed him aside with a whip of his head, and Eleron was flung backwards with a force that would have crushed anyone else's ribcage and ended their life. He merely laughed, then clambered to his feet, certainly bruised and dazed, but far from out of the fight.

  "Get us out of this madness," I told Tyr.

  "Tyr must kill elf. Will hurt everyone otherwise."

  "What if we get trapped?" I eyed the portal, gap, whatever it was, warily, but it seemed stable. For how long, though? Was it because we were here when we shouldn't be? Would it remain open until we went back through?

  "Will burn again."

  "It didn't work. Try something else."

  "What Tyr try?"

  "Damn, I don't know. Look out, here he comes." I jumped up into the saddle, knowing Tyr was antsy and could take off at any moment.

  Eleron ran at us, seemingly unconcerned by either of us, or what might happen to him. I recalled the fight we'd had years ago and the bugs I'd summoned to destroy him. I thought I'd had him then but no such luck. What could I do this time?

  I hugged Tyr's neck as he spat fire, forcing Eleron back by the sheer pressure. The damage it caused clearly took it out of the elf, as the more Tyr burned him the more he retreated, but he would never be destroyed. He began to recover from his blistered flesh the moment Tyr stopped his assault. Maybe it would have worked in our world, but here, where he truly was immortal and beyond powerful, it was not going to be enough.