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Lyn had been inside ruined temples to Aelor before. They were dotted around Ghomar, with many having been converted to non-religious use. She crept silently up a set of stairs to the second floor – where she knew the innermost chambers would be. She ducked into an alcove behind a statue and had to wait as two priests stood at the edge of the railing overlooking the main floor below. It gave her time to think back to the first time they had found one of these places.

“It’s just like temples around the Mediterranean,” Cecily had commented when they arrived at the large temple complex near the coast. They were in the South of Khrelardia, in the duchy known as Faron; a prosperous river-oceanic trade region. “Why is it so similar?” she wondered aloud as the group of heroes – Lyn, Thomas, and Misty – stood nearby.

Misty leaned over to Lyn and whispered, “Dumb bitch. Why did we have to bring her along?”

Lyn shook her head, “Diplomacy. You’re not a people person. I’m not. Thomas could be, but he gets too caught up in-”

As if proving her point, Thomas walked up to Cecily. He pointed to one of the supporting pillars, “It’s similar in style to Roman Doric pillars, but has no Caryatids or Pedimental sculptures.” All the heroes looked at him, confused, and he chuckled. “Right. No women holding up the building, and no decoration at the top. It’s…a simple design. Architecture is similar all across cultures because certain shapes just work.”

Cecily walked toward the front of the ruined building, and the rest of the heroes followed. “Who did they worship?” Cecily asked as she put her hand on the smooth granite.

“Aelor, the creator deity,” Thomas replied. “You know, the god we each have a fragment of inside of us?”

Misty cocked her head sideways – which she always did as she tried to solve a deep question or problematic obstacle. “Why is it ruined? Why would worship stop?”

“Because of us,” Thomas replied as he joined Cecily at the pillar, put his hand on it, and went inside. The others followed him into the large, open space. The room was somehow still intact, but portions of the walls were smashed, and little bits of the roof sloped downward. “When Aelor split himself into twenty pieces and made the hero cores…the deity died. So, people turned away from his worship, instead venerating the heroes.”

Cecily laughed, “So you’re saying people will worship us?”

Thomas shook his head, “Not quite. Some people? Sure. They’ll treat you with reverence. But the culture has shifted from temple-based worship to a more personal-based worship. It wasn’t a separation like the Protestant Reformation of Martin Luther splitting off from Catholicism…It was a cultural shift.” He walked forward to an altar made of smooth, black granite that – if not for the dust and debris – would shine marvelously. He swiped some of the substance away, revealing the gloss underneath. “A shift away from the need for priests to lead the faith. Many on Ghomar still worship, but they do it privately or in small groups.”

Misty looked up at the ceiling and let out a big sigh. “Aren’t we here for some type of artifact?”

Lyn nodded, “I want to get my hands on it.”

Cecily turned on the two with a frown, “But…I thought this artifact was more suited to the Ruler hero?”

“It can be,” Thomas replied. “But any hero can use artifacts of the Elenthians. They just work better for certain heroes.” He pointed to Lyn’s spear, “Rus’os’glar works best for the Scout hero.”

Misty cocked her head to the side once more and looked at Thomas. “Do these people believe in an afterlife?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes. Kind of. They believe that Aelor takes every person that dies and has them put back into a cycle of rebirth. It’s like the Buddhist samsāra. But there’s no nirvana. Just rebirth.”

Lyn shook off the memories of the past as the priests moved on. She snuck past them and found her way to the innermost altar. There was a person – male, female, she couldn’t tell from behind them – who was dressed in resplendent white robes. White as freshly fallen snow. They had a large cord around their neck which the other priests did not.

Lyn hesitated though, daggers at the ready. She was about to kill a holy man inside his own temple. In front of the most sacred altar in this space. It felt…wrong. Blasphemous, even. She was never very religious, but this just didn’t feel right. Shake it off Lyn. It’s just a dungeon construct. Just like Trisha’s kids and baby you had to kill. Just like the other heroes. It’s not real. She stepped forward and stabbed both blades down into the gap between neck and collarbone, shoving the person down from the force of the blow. Their bright, red blood splashed out over the altar, and they fell – dead. As they fell, she looked at their face. It was an Elenthian. They looked human, but they were quite androgynous. They had male and female, but they were hard to tell apart.

The walls of the room returned, and the scene vanished. The hallway opened and led to the reward chamber. That was pretty easy for a dungeon. She walked through and approached the altar. There was a wooden box, and a punch dagger. Picking up the punch dagger, it vanished, and she willed Cataclysm to shift form. The dagger in her left hand vanished as it rejoined the blade, and it shrank until it nestled firmly in her grip. She felt the mana-blade between her fingers…but it was invisible. To test it, she struck the edge of the altar, and her fist stopped about four inches from the surface. An invisible blade? That’s useful. She shifted it back to its sword form and opened the wooden box.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She picked up the swirling, deep red mana core. A gruff female voice spoke in her mind. You have bested my dungeon. I, Priva, Assassin, give you the ability- The voice in her mind was cut off. What the fuck? Lyn had never experienced that before. What’s happening?

She gasped as a new voice spoke to her. One she was familiar with. Zack Daermont, the deceased Rogue hero. Hey Lyn. Long time no talk.

“…Zack?” Lyn whispered.

Yeah, I died. Sucks.

“You’re alive?” She was flabbergasted. Floored. Bewildered.

Kind of? It’s weird, man. Here’s what I’ve been able to figure out. People are summoned, Hero core goes to them. With me so far?

“Yes,” Lyn said, still in shock at hearing the voice of the man she saw beheaded.

Well, our…I don’t know, souls? Consciousness? It’s bound to the hero core, and the last person is…released? So, when we were summoned, the prior sumonees were released back to their world. He laughed that smug laugh she always found endearing when they were trying to nail tricks at the skate park. That means when you consume the Rogue core, I’ll get to go through one of two doors that have been shut but staring at me for a while. I can either go through rebirth and come back on Ghomar, or I can go back home to Earth.

“Wait, how is your core here? You’re skipping a lot of context.”

Sorry, it’s been…fourteen years since I’ve talked to someone? Anyways, Thomas smashed the statue of Aelor. And all the hero cores were stored inside of it. So, we shot out of the room like whoosh and have been kind of flying around? I spotted your Scout core – because I can see those now, apparently – and followed you into the dungeon. I consumed this lady’s core, and now, you’re going to consume me. Sorry for that, by the way. You’re not going to get her mana core. But hey, the Rogue core is way better.

Lyn sank down to the ground, holding the mana core in her hand as she stared vacantly into the swirling, dark-grey mass. “But you’re alive. I can’t just consume you. It’s like harvesting mana cores.”

I’m stuck in here, Lyn. Time is weird, and it’s not a bad existence…but I want to move on. And it’s not harvesting cores. You consuming the Rogue core isn’t consuming me, it’s just consuming the core. You’re freeing me to move on.

Lyn took a deep breath and vividly recalled the memories of going into dungeons with Zack. He was part of their ‘main’ group that delved into dungeons frequently. He was always the one cracking jokes and showing off. He was the light-hearted person who brightened the room with his jokes. The class clown with a heart of gold. He died just after they had marked the end of their first year in Ghomar. “Do you…do you want to come back on Ghomar?”

If I could get a guaranteed ‘good start’ then sure. But I don’t think that’s how it works.

“I’m going to take over this world. I’m going to build an empire where no one goes hungry.”

I know. I looked through your mind. Kind of cool that I can do that, eh? Only while you’re holding me, though. Also, banging twins? You are one dirty dog. You’ll get massive bro points if you can get them to do a threesome with you.

Lyn chuckled at that and wiped the tears from her eyes that she hadn’t noticed until that moment. “You…you should stay on Ghomar. Earth is fucked. Climate change, authoritarian governments, our fucking tiny town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.” She was fully convinced that Earth was going to be a shit-show, and Ghomar was the future.

There was a laugh in her mind. Yeah, I think this door for rebirth is the one for me. He went silent for a few moments. Lyn…take care of our classmates. And please, find the other hero cores. They’re trapped just like I am.

“How do I find them?” Lyn asked as she stood back up.

Just keep doing these dungeons. Maybe throw up a giant spell into the sky, draw their attention. His voice lowered to a whisper. Only you and James can consume hero cores, and we can’t go into new people for whatever reason – something about the statue being a medium. And no one wants to give that prick more power. Always bragging about how he was the ‘chosen one’ and that bullshit. He chuckled; I can’t believe he got more insufferable as time went on. There was silence and she heard a deep sigh. I…this life has been interesting. I hope the next one is less interesting. He chuckled. I’d love to just have an easy life, y’know?

“I know. An easy life would be nice.” She felt an odd mix of emotions. All the heroes were warned when they first came to Ghomar that consuming the core of a person – called harvesting cores – was highly taboo, equivalent to eating someone’s ‘soul’ in a religious sense…and yet Zack was telling her that consuming his mana core was the only way to free him. I have to help him. Lyn nodded, “…Thank you, Zack…Are you ready?”

I am. Thanks, Lyn. When I’m reborn somewhere in Ghomar, well, I hope it’s somewhere in your empire. I don’t know if I’ll keep any memories or if it’s really a ‘fresh start’…but I hope to see you in person again. Take care.

Lyn nodded, “I’ll make this world a better place for all of us.” She squeezed the mana core and it compressed, shooting down her mana channel and into the furnace of her Destroyer core. There was a brief conflict between the two before her Destroyer core consumed it. She felt the surge of energy in her as the consciousness of Zack faded away with a thank you lingering in her thoughts.

Cataclysm’s blade erupted in dark, sickly-green light. Poison elementalism, Lyn knew instinctively. One of the Rogue core’s best external spell types. She recalled one of the other external spells that Zack used a lot and put Cataclysm away as she focused her gaze on a space next to her. "Echado fen / min gwann / bo nin / i gar / nadath." Space rippled and distorted as a storage space appeared – just like her choker. But this one was much, much larger; not being limited by an inscription and instead reliant on her mana. The inside was dull grey and was easily fifty feet in all directions.

She tossed in the wooden box and let the mana flow cease as it sealed. She did the exact same verse, and when the space opened, she saw the wooden box still there. Perfect. Lastly, she did one more spell, specifying she wanted a smaller, different space. When it opened, it was a slightly different hue of grey, empty, and smaller. So, I can have multiple storage spaces.

She let them lapse and placed her hand on the altar, appearing outside the dungeon. The gateway behind her vanished, and she made her way out. The whole time, she was replaying the conversation with Zack in her head. The heroes that died…all my classmates that died. They’re trapped.

She knew she would have to save them. Not because she had to, but it was the right thing to do. She might have been raised by shitty parents, but she still had a sense of right and wrong. More tasks, she thought. Not only did she now have to build an empire, and meet up with the other heroes, she had to go dungeon delving until the other hero cores found her and she freed them.

With a hefty sigh she left the cave and headed to Lynhold.