Once upon a time, when the demon's power and influence seemed too strong for anyone to bear, a hero gripped the radiant sword forged in the strange country where earth and non-earth meet. Manifold dangers he overcame by his will and his tireless arm till at last even the demon fell. The people rejoiced and vowed forever to remember the name of . . .
The court historian's pen paused. "What was that name again?"
"Craddy. I don't think it's so hard to remember." The hero Craddy's feet kicked below his chair.
"None of that," the court sculptor chided.
"Craddy. That just doesn't do it for me." The historian licked his pen. "I have it. 'The name of Kemesh.' That sounds more heroic."
Craddy's morose expression drew another rebuke from the sculptor, but there was meaning behind it. "You can think it sounds like anything you want, but the sword magic I learned in the sacred land cannot be invoked without my name, by the oath sworn on the unseen mountain which no man may reach but one. I'm talking about myself here."
"You do like to do that, yes."
Even a hero could become irritated. "You asked. I'm giving you an exclusive scoop here as a reward for everything your kingdom did to help me."
"Yes, yes, we're ever so grateful, Kemesh."
And generations later, when a different kingdom conquered the world using overwhelming sword magic, none knew whence came the name they used to invoke it or why Kemesh's legacy availed nothing.
Finis
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