Rovek clapped me on the shoulder, “That was an amazing display. Remember how you did that. I am not familiar with this particular lightning spell.”

  “It’s called Call Lightning. It was my first spell. It has never worked like that before. My interface actually says it evolved.”

  “Interesting. Usually someone of your skill set, cannot evolve a spell. I believe rage allowed you to fuel the mana inflecting a change to the electricity. I have seen others manipulate similar spells, but never quite like that. It can be one of your most powerful spells if you continue to develop it.”

  I tucked that information in my pocket for later. For now, my companions and I had to finish the dungeon. I would have to use a sword until my mana refilled.

  The tunnel to the right of the door ended with nothing to do there but waste our time. The other led to an unoccupied hallway followed by a stairwell. Along the way, Rovek lit more braziers. I kept my eyes peeled for gold rings as well. This seemed like a difficult task, but hopefully they were easy to spot.

  “Do you think there are secret passageways?”

  “There are sometimes hidden passages with hidden items. Most of these dungeons have been looted and are devoid of any real treasure.”

  “The quest says to look for ten gold rings.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about the rings. We don’t have time for side quests. We need to finish the king and get out and get back to Velasyr. I have a group of individuals who have gathered on your behalf.”

  “You did that for me?”

  “For you,” Rovek said, “and The Emissary’s mission is sacred. Thalroin’s disregard for this mission is sacrilege. He and his brother should be held accountable for their conspiracy.”

  We rounded the corner. Spider webs were all over the place. I knew from my games, this probably meant more spiders or maybe even a larger queen or king type spider. Rovek didn’t seem worried, passing straight through the webs.

  “There are four more roamers ahead,” Rovek said. “Do you have enough mana to use your fire spells?”

  “I’m have about half of my reserves left.”

  “Here,” Rovek handed me a blue bottle. “This is a regeneration potion. It lasts for several minutes.”

  I drank the delicious potion, and my mana began swiftly rebuilding.

  The attack plan was simple from here on out; Rovek would draw out the badies, I would kill them, Mel would assist with soulflare or water, Rovek would stand by and assist if I got overwhelmed.

  I killed a roamer and two spiders easily without any help. Mel helped with soulflare on the next two roamers. The third floor was much the same. We were running through enemies with precision and efficiency. Mel and I killed four more spiders and four roamers, alone. Rovek helped with the last two roamers because I was getting tired.

  I practiced magical looting on the spiders acquiring several vials of venom and 25 gold. I had to gain 4000 xp to get to my next level which was going to be an undertaking.

  “I have a feeling this is the door to the king’s chamber,” Rovek said as we approached a door much larger than the others we had seen made of wood and metal. “We’ll both gain experience for defeating the king, but we should wait for your mana to replenish before we begin. Here’s the plan. I will divert his focus with smaller attacks while you and Melorien hit him with your most powerful combinations. Remain cognizant of your mana level.”

  I nodded and then took a seat leaning against the wall. I closed my eyes and dreamed about home, hoping Mel could see the same memories. I missed so much about home, but food not only hit me in the feels, but also in my stomach. It was probably not a good idea to think about food at a time like this.

  After about an hour, my mana fully regenerated.

  “I’m ready,” I said, standing and dusting myself off. “Let’s do this.”

  There was no elaborate puzzle or secret code to open the door. Rovek just twisted the handle and pushed it open.

  The final chamber was a vast, circular room with a domed ceiling etched in ancient runes that pulsed faintly with green light. Pillars of black stone rose like petrified trees, each one inscribed with the names of fallen challengers. The floor was a mosaic of silver and blue veins. Broken glass was scattered everywhere as if someone had opened one of those bars where you could throw your beer bottle against a wall just to hear it break.

  At the far end, atop a jagged throne of fused crystal and bone, sat the King of Thalenir, a ruler corrupted by soul binding magic and a servant of Vaerunel. Behind him, a massive mirror reminds him of who he will be for the rest of eternity, now cracked but can never be broken. In typical dungeon fashion, the moment we cleared the threshold, the chamber sealed shut with a thunderous boom.

  Name: King Targo of Thalenir

  Type: Elarin - Eternal

  King Targo led the armies of Thalenir, determined to conquer the world for Vaerunel. The war was lost. As punishment for his cruelty in war and other war crimes, Vaerunel sentenced him to an eternity in this dungeon. He is bound in servitude to Vaerunel and hates Nivalár and all who serve her.

  Level    10

  Health   1200/1200

  Magic   500/500

  Stamina     400/400

  Defense   100/100

  Attack Damage  Slash: 30-40 HP per strike

  Speed      Fast: 30 ft/sec

  Threat Rating     Very High – 10

  Experience Reward  1000 XP

  Item Drop    Item - Crown of Echos

  Behavior Profile:

  Aggression    High

  Social      Solo

  Preferred Habitat Dungeon of Thalenir

  Abilities       Echo Cleave: Bound sword attack. Ignores 25% of armor.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Reflect: 35% chance to reflect spell back to attacker          Knight’s Remnant: Summons two spectral knights to battle at his command

  Soul Drain: Drains stamina from target.

  “Those loyal to Nivalár will all perish,” the king shouted from his throne. “You shall be judged for heresy and sacrilege. Behold the wrath of Vaerunel!”

  The king floated directly at us, pulling an ethereal sword from a sheath of mist. He slashed, aiming directly for my head, but I managed to jump out of the way. His second attack directed at Rovek was stopped with a magical shield he had conjured.

  I used my Divinity spell, but I forgot to channel the mana as I had previously done. The holy light struck its target but only did a sliver of damage.

  The king turned his attention to me, roaring as he expertly twisted then slashed. I pulled the ancient sword up and parried the blow, however the sword was broken on the impact.

  Rovek struck from behind with a reign of fire. I could see the attack was causing only minimum damage for such a fierce attack.

  “It must have resistance to fire!” I yelled.

  This wasn’t good, because Rovek’s spells were all fire-based as far as I knew.

  Mel started to hit the king with water attacks, but none of the water was soaking in.

  Mel said, “We should hit it with soulflare, Jeremy! It might ignore his resistance to fire.”

  “Let’s do it!”

  The soulflare attack worked causing the most damage so far, but at this rate, we were not going to win the battle. The king had yet to use anything but his bound sword.

  “Hit it again!” I said to Mel.

  The attack ignored the fire resistance causing almost 50 damage. That was great, but we had to do that at least 20 more times and neither Mel nor I had that kind of mana reserves.

  Rovek came out of nowhere with a bound sword of his own.

  That’s new!

  Rovek must’ve had swordplay training. While he was not an expert, he was holding his own against the king. In dramatic fashion, he dodged, parried, and countered landing a critical strike in the king’s abdomen.

  I immediately went to my happy place and my memories of one of my favorite movies, The Princess Bride, while watching this battle. One of my favorite scenes was the epic sword fight.

  The king laughed off Rovek’s attacks, then raised his hand to the sky and called in some supporting knights.

  Mel and I were tired, but we had to keep fighting. The ethereal knights came at us, slashing wildly. I parried a few times, but I couldn’t keep up, and was struck hard against the arm, then sliced in my side.

  Mel bobbed and weaved, evading the second knight. [We have to hit these with fire, Jeremy.]

  I pulled myself together and started to pull the mana from my core. I lost focus on the knight, and it stabbed me through the stomach. The sword was as cold as ice as it went in. I could feel my flesh rejecting the magical blade, but it wasn’t enough. I was losing.

  I felt like I had only closed my eyes for a second, but when I opened them, I was in a totally different place. Wherever I was, it wasn’t the dungeon anymore simply for the fact the place was lit up like a Louisiana summer morning but without the heat and humidity. I wasn’t standing in a place really, but more a space, a wide-open space that literally shimmered with light chasing away all shadows.

  The air was the cleanest I had ever breathed, even though I didn’t feel like I was even breathing.

  I looked down at my hands, and they were my hands again. Not the hands of a frog, but the hands I spent the previous 28 years with before being changed. I was myself again!

  Off in the distance, a pale figure began coming my way floating over the surface, wearing all white; pure, like a bride coming to meet her husband for their wedding day.

  I immediately thought I was in heaven. Which meant I was dead.

  I didn’t feel dead.

  Of course, I didn’t know what being dead felt like. This was indeed surreal. It was like all the stories about heaven my mom told me when I was a kid.

  The figure coming towards me wasn’t the Jesus I had always pictured in the stories either. The figure had no face, no real shape, just a cylinder with what appeared to be white robes draped under a glowing orb of sorts. Not exactly humanoid shaped.

  “Be at comfort, Jeremy, and welcome to my realm,” came a soothing beautiful charismatic voice seemingly from all around me. “I am Nivalár. Please make yourself comfortable.”

  Nivalár shifted to take on the appearance of a southern grandma as a ‘U’ shaped couch appeared. She looked like a black Paula Dean. I wanted to ask her for some chicken and dumplings and a cold iced tea, but I wouldn’t dare.

  “You can have those items to consume if you would like them, Jeremy,” Nivalár said reading my mind. “I can try to get the flavors right from what I can glean from your mind, but they will have no value of nutrition.”

  “You can read my thoughts?” I asked still a little in shock.

  “Most of them,” she said. “There are a few you wish to keep secret, and that is acceptable.”

  “Why am I here? Am I—”

  “You’re not dead,” Nivalár laughed contagiously. “Not yet.”

  In front of me appeared a bowl of steaming chicken and dumplings just like my mom used to make. The bowl was exactly like one out of my kitchen cabinets. Next to it appeared a tall glass that looked like a mason jar filled with ice and a brown liquid that looked just like sweet tea. I leaned over and inhaled the aroma. She had nailed the scent. I knew there must be some important matters to discuss, but I wanted to try a taste before discussing business.

  Pleasure before business, I thought.

  Nivalár laughed again, “Don’t worry about time. Time passes differently here. A thousand years may only be a fraction of a second down there. You can enjoy your meal. Please.”

  I tried the food first. It was steaming hot but didn’t burn my tongue as it probably would’ve in the real world. The salt and pepper combination hit my pallet first, followed by the thick sauce then a perfect piece of chicken. It was just like I imagined it. Perfect. The tea was delicious and brought back memories of home and summer.

  “I sort of cheated,” Nivalár said, her dialect adapting to a more familiar accent and tone. “You see, you’re special, and I’m just not ready for you to die yet. Vaerenel would like nothing more than to have access to your world before you and Bart are ready, but I can’t have that. Your God of Earth wouldn’t want that either. He has enough evil to deal with already.

  “You see, magical awakenings cause chaos by their nature. There really is nothing that can be done about that. Add in sheer evil? Now that is something we can do something about. Vaerenel and based on your memories, Satan, are evil. Through and through. They represent death and destruction and the opposite of all things good.

  “Again, based on your memories, it seems your God, even though He seems a little more vengeful than I am (although to be honest I have acted on my need for vengeance a time or two—cough, cough—this king you’re facing and the Moonwarden to be precise), your God is good.

  “The only way to stop evil from dominating the magical awakenings is by using the process I and other good gods like me have originated; The Emissary, The Hero, and The Adversary.”

  “Are there worlds that evil won?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes. On those worlds, good was completely eradicated. Nothing good remains if anything lives at all. Destruction reigns. Vaerenel and other gods like him are hell bent on destroying every world they can. It almost seems like they want to do it just to spite us, to spit in our faces. It’s sad really. Evil cannot defeat your world unless The Adversary destroys The Hero. The Emissary is the catalyst.

  “You see; you must choose. It cannot be chosen for you or forced upon you. The Hero and Adversary were chosen by design based on their character or mental ability. Maybe an unconfessed sin or deeply buried bitterness? Since you do not know, then neither can I. I don’t have access to the knowledge of that world outside of what you can share with me.”

  “You should have a better conduit!” I laughed, and Nivalár laughed with me.

  “No. Don’t be ridiculous. You have seen way more than you recall, and all that has been seen by your eyes is still in that brain of yours,” Nivalár said as she tapped her head. “Granted, I wish I could get more information—one minute on your internet—”

  She stopped talking for a second as if imagining accessing the vast information database on the internet.

  “Sorry about that,” she resumed. “Even a God can dream. I love knowledge and yours is the first world I’ve encountered that has it all available in one neat little package!” She actually gushed like a teen fan girl.

  “Apologies, again,” she shivered. “I get so excited about knowledge. Where was I? Oh yeah. The Hero. Bart is the perfect epitome of The Hero. He exudes good and honesty and well-being. And you. The Emissary. With your background in gaming, you were the perfect selection for that role. You are neither good nor bad, having had some shady dealings in your past, but also caring about your fellow human being. You also have a base knowledge of how magic works—eh—to a point.

  “I don’t understand why you were turned into a frog. I believe that must’ve been a mistake of the awakening. Something with timing. I’ve never seen it happen. It shouldn’t hinder your abilities as an emissary though.

  “Your job is to retrieve as much power and information as you can in the time allotted here on Elar; the most previous world to undergo an awakening and continued to possess some good and some evil.”

  “Are there any worlds that are only good?”

  “Yes. Actually. Although they are rarer than the worlds destroyed with evil. It seems sentient beings like to have a choice. Once you ascend, you no longer have a choice. You ascend as all evil or all bad. Before ascension, you will have ample time to solidify your choice.

  “So, that leads us to where we are today. Me. Cheating. Pulling you out a second before you die. Giving you one more chance. Again.”