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The shimmering purple portal had a jelly-like quality to it, having some resistance that was easily pushed through. It also smelled like fresh mint – some decision by the dungeon’s maker, Lyn reasoned, as she had encountered other dungeon entrances that had unique scents to them. Exiting the other side, she found herself in a large, stone chamber. It was made of white, worked stone. At the center was a pedestal, and above were glowing lights softly humming. Seeing it instantly triggered a memory of their first dungeon arriving on Ghomar.
She led the group with Ben and Kory. James was right behind them, and the rest of the heroes were in a cluster further back. The room was illuminated by glowing orbs floating above “What are we supposed to do here?” James asked.
Thomas spoke up from the back, “Put your hand on the pedestal!”
Kory walked forward and did so, the whole object illuminating with a bright, crimson glow before sinking into the ground. Then, the room went dark. They panicked, and Lyn had retreated behind Ben as he used an external barrier spell to cover the heroes in a shimmering, blue ward. “Incoming!” Thomas had shouted as the room brightened – the orbs in the ceiling shifting to a sinister red hue – as a large, bipedal, ape covered in chitinous, spiked plates charged the heroes.
She remembered diving out of the way as Ben’s barrier shattered. She remembered the shouting, screaming, and panic. Darius was picked up by the creature and ripped in half, his screams distorting and warping as his muscles and sinew tore, his bones snapping and cracking. The blood showered over them as the creature roared.
Lyn jumped as someone touched her shoulder, pulling her back to the present. She moved sideways and entered a defensive stance, raising her blade of rippling magma and wind to eye level as she squared off against the sudden touch.
Vael backed away and bowed, “My Lady, I apologize for startling you.”
She finally noticed she was holding her breath, and she slowly let it out. Taking deep, shaky inhalations, she pushed back the memories of the bloodshed and chaos. You’ve dealt with more dungeons since then, she reminded herself. You’ve got this…And you need to act like a Destroyer. She nodded to Vael and stood upright, “Apology accepted.” She turned and saw Gael putting down the supplies and readying his weapon and armor. “I want you two to remain on standby. I want to test this body’s prowess against this foe.”
The twins nodded and stepped back to the portal, staying in the room with her, with spears held at the ready. Lyn exhaled and walked up to the pedestal, willing the armor to fully encompass her. The helmet manifested from the neck of the armor and covered her, leaving her peripheral vision slightly lessened. But the casement gave her a sense of comfort that helped to quell her beating heart. She raised her left hand, and gently placed it on the pedestal.
It flared crimson. And the room went dark. She took up a ready stance as the blue flames of her blade illuminated the grey void that opened in front of her.
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James let out a deep, heavy sigh as he stood up from his desk, popped his back, and walked to the window. Looking out over the capital of Khor’s Hold, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction wash over him. Another good day, he thought as he waved for a page to take the reports away. Soon, another group of soldiers would be given their papers releasing them from service. James had fought hard with the King to make sure that the veterans were given generous stipends. It was just one of several reasons why the masses loved him.
And he reveled in that love. Every time he walked the streets between the palace and his house in the middle of the merchant district, he felt the gratitude of the people. They gave him deference, would bow in his presence, and even deliver free goods to his doorstep.
Coming to Ghomar was the best thing that ever happened to him. Summoned by the statue of a god, his love of fantasy novels was rewarded. He was named the Paragon hero. The strongest hero of them all. And it was due to his enjoyment of the genre. He was the one that killed the Demonic Dragon. Well, the one everyone thought slew the creature. That brought him fame, prestige, wealth, and more than one offer of courtship. And he met the love of his life, Maria, and fathered two children who were growing rapidly and just about to become pages under his command. Twin boys – Tevol and Tovol.
Life was perfect.
There was a knock at the door. “Enter,” he said loud enough to be heard, but softly enough to put the person at ease.
The door creaked open and a tall, lanky man walked in. “Hey, James. It’s been a while,” Thomas said.
James smiled broadly and walked over to Thomas, giving him a hug – firm, but not a tight squeeze. Thomas returned it and the two separated. “It’s been, what, a year?”
Thomas nodded, “That’s right. How ya been?”
James chuckled, “I’ve been fantastic. What brings you to the kingdom?”
A shadow crossed Thomas’ face. He switched from Khrelardian to English – a language only the heroes spoke. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. The Demonic Dragon – no, the Destroyer mana core – has a new host.”
James felt ice in his chest. What? But we – Lyn – killed it. How? He shook his head, “Oh,” was all he said in reply.
Thomas gestured to the chairs, and James numbly stumbled to his behind the desk. Thomas pulled out a flask and took several swigs, offering it to James who shook his head. “Yeah. I saw it with my own eyes. Someone using lava elementalism spells. A Duskari wielding that power. A woman.” Thomas’ eyes darted up to meet James’. “She spoke English. She said she was Lyn, and told a story that only our class would know.” He shook his head, “Here, I extracted the memory.” He placed an inscribed mirror onto the desk.
James took the mirror and poured some of his mana into it, feeling the rush of cool, calm waters through him as the almost fizzy feeling filled him up. Holding the mirror in front of him, he saw and heard the conversation played out from Thomas’ point of view, where he talked to a Duskari wearing the Demonic Dragon’s humanoid-form armor. Speaking English. The story she told from their childhood was unmistakable. Is…is it really possible? He looked at Thomas, “Could someone have forced their way back to Ghomar from Earth?”
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Thomas nodded, “I put an emergency inscription into the foundation of Ben and Trisha’s house. They could use that to get back to Earth…but I don’t know what would happen. Based on what this possible-Lyn said, time works differently between the two worlds.” He leaned back in the chair and groaned, rubbing his temples, “Lyn, Misty, and I have the best knowledge of Elenthir. But Lyn spent so much time with Misty…she might have enough know-how to reverse-summon herself. But if she was that skilled, she wouldn’t have fucked up the summoning and come back as a Duskari…” He scratched his head, “Unless that’s what she wanted to have happen…but I doubt it.”
James handed the mirror back to Thomas, “You didn’t just come here to tell me about this. Why are you really here?”
“I want to use the statue of Aelor.”
James’ eyes went wide and he felt his mouth go dry. “You’re…you’re not suggesting-”
Thomas shrugged, “Kind of. Not the usual way. I don’t want to be a shell of myself. But, if this is the Destroyer in a new form – Demonic Dragon, Raevan, or otherwise – we need to have the full suite of heroes to deal with it.”
No we don’t! James wanted to say. We could take it on ourselves. But he knew that he wasn’t the one who slew the Demonic Dragon. He just got the credit for the killing blow…he had fled. “If I train, I could take it on, just like Lyn did.”
Thomas raised a quizzical eyebrow, “Really? You think you could one v one the Destroyer?”
“I could try! It’s better than using that statue and risk losing my mana core!”
Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “Then just trust me. I am ninety-percent sure I can use the statue in a way that will summon the mana cores of the heroes that aren’t around anymore. Not new people, and not rip them out of us. Just the mana cores. Then, you can consume them, and maybe be able to take this Destroyer on.”
James’ finally noticed his fists were balled up and beginning to ache from the pressure. He was terrified of losing these fantastic powers at his disposal. Becoming a shell of himself. The helpless nerd that he used to be. The promise of power was alluring…but the possibility of losing what he had was unacceptable. He stood up, “No. I will not allow you to see the statue.”
Thomas stood up and took a swig from his flask, “Then I’ll go over your head and ask the king.” He stood up and turned to walk away.
James felt the panic rising in his chest. If Thomas told the King about this destroyer, he had no doubt that the man would authorize Thomas to use the statue. James was already more popular than the figurehead, and despite not wanting to be a King, certain people in power had been pushing for him to be the monarch. An easy way to get rid of James? The King would leap at the chance.
Even more, though…James could not lose what he had. His power, his fame, who he was. The goddamn Paragon hero. The strongest of them all. His years of reading and adoring fantasy – rewarded by fate and destiny. Thomas was not going to rip that away from him, and he acted almost without thought – following instinct to keep what was his.
James leaped over his desk and tackled Thomas, slamming his head into the ground several times until he had concussed the slimmer man. “I’m not losing my power,” James growled at him. He hauled Thomas up by the shirt, “Guards!” he shouted. Within seconds, a pair of guards arrived. “Throw him in the mana suppressing dungeon.”
As they took Thomas away, he shut the door and sank into his chair. “What the fuck did I just do?” he whispered. He had just assaulted his only friend amongst their classmates pre-summon. The guy who truly held no grudges and always tried to mediate. The smartest of them all, despite what Cecily wanted them to believe.
He looked out the window and heard the bustling of the city, and the thoughts of his two boys rushing into his arms to greet him as he walked in the door of his house cleansed any sense of injustice from his heart. No, he had done the right thing. He would not lose his mana core and be a hollow shell. He had a family to protect.
And he would not become a weakling again. He was the Paragon. The strongest hero. His greatest fantasy dream, fulfilled. He formed his hands into fists, “I can’t leave him alive,” he whispered as he stood up and began to walk towards the prison. He didn’t want to kill Thomas…but he didn’t see any other choice. The King would eventually find out that James had imprisoned the man. And then the questioning would start, and finally, the truth of why Thomas was there.
I can’t risk it.
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The floating orbs of light above her illuminated once more, becoming a pale, sterile white. The creature that stepped through the grey portal was one Lyn was familiar with. An ogre. The humanoid creature stood seven feet tall, wielding an enormous, metal Morningstar that was as big as she was. It was covered in full plate, but she knew under that were dozens of layers of tough hide that mundane weapons would struggle to pierce. It bellowed out and swung down at her.
Sidestep, she thought as her body moved reflexively. Her years of combat training were coming into play from her five years of adventuring. Even though these muscles were new, they had the same memory as her last body, and she deftly dodged the creature’s wild, vertical swing. She had an opening where she could swing Cataclysm and end it – but she had to prove something to herself. “Gael! Spear!” she shouted as she put Cataclysm back into the socket on her armor.
The creature swung horizontally, and she ducked the swing as Gael lobbed her the spear. She caught it, twirled it around herself, and jumped over the next swipe. There! She landed and stabbed up into a crevice between the armored plates, her spear tip a viper lashing out to lightly pierce. As the tip came back into sight post-plunge, she saw the small amount of ichor on the end. These are good weapons, she thought as she backflipped over the horizontal, forehand swing.
The rush hit her all at once. The adrenaline surging through her veins. The familiarity of combat. The tingling in her spine that ran up to the top of her head from being in a near-death experience. She could have ended the fight in an instant with Cataclysm or an external lava spell. But she wanted to prove to herself that she could fight without using these new powers. That her skills were still sufficient enough.
Another vertical swipe, another side-step followed up with three rapid thrusts to the neck, eye, and underarm. Each strike found its mark, the blade pulling back with the trickling green blood, and the ogre letting out grunts and cries of pain as she meticulously prodded it. She wasn’t trying to be sadistic and torture the thing; without a mana-charged weapon, she would have to strike deep into a weak spot and have just the right angle to score a kill.
The dance continued for another two minutes, and when Lyn felt herself begin to tire, she tossed the spear back to Gael, retrieved Cataclysm’s hilt, and poured her mana into the blade once more. It surged to life and she stepped inside the ogre’s reach, stabbing up and into the chest. The lava-wind blade cut through the unetched metal like a knife through warm butter, and she ripped the blade out horizontally. The creature's knees thudded to the ground before it fell over.
Lyn felt her heart beating, pulsing, and felt the lethargy of post-combat fatigue begin to set in. Turning off the sword, she sat on the ground. The ogre corpse vanished as Gael and Vael came up to her. “My Lady?” Gael asked. “Are you well?”
Lyn nodded and chuckled, “I’m well. My stamina will need improvement.” The pedestal in the center of the room rose back up, and the light orbs shifted to a pleasant blue. “We passed this part of the dungeon.” She took Gael’s extended hand and pulled herself up. “Come, more fights await.”