I got into an argument over the summer with a friend's brother about the nature of fantasy. It started with a discussion of my Eragon sporkings. I was pointing out the illogic of the universe and used the example of the Zombie Horses, that is, the horses are able to go on longer than should be physically possible. The brother said that how do I know? It's fantasy. The normal rules don't apply. Anything can happen. For all he knows horses in that world can do that. I of course argued that you need limits in the world just like in a non-fantasy world, or even more so. He said no you don't because anything can happen in fantasy. Obviously, if this was true, you'd end up with stories like the following:

The sky had turned a blood red from the soot billowing out of the volcano behind the two warriors that faced each other on the dried and cracked mud plain. At one point this had been a large and glorious lake filled with life, but with the coming of the Dark Lord Tyranal, it had withered and died as he pulled it's energy into himself. But finally Palandus had gotten the one thing that could defeat him. The Sword of Exmahina. The quest had been long and arduous, he had lost many friends along the way. But now, now, it would be all worth it. He would slay the evil fiend and free the land from his rule, as well as fulfilling his vow to his dying father, the king of Fredum.

With a bellow, Palandus charged across the field, swinging the mighty sword. With a single strike he cut off Tyranal's head, just like it said in the prophecies! He raised his sword to give thanks to the gods, when Tyranal got up and put his head back on.

"How did you do that?!" Palandus cried, horror and shock gouged in his face. "No human could survive such a blow! No creature!"

Tyranal smiled, "It's fantasy. No one ever said that I couldn't."

The End.