by Dale Britton
The lights flickered and went out, plunging the room into total darkness.
Chapter Fifteen
Someone screamed. Ollie thought it sounded like a girl.
"Sarah? Are you all right?"
"Sorry." George sounded embarrassed. "That was me. The lightning startled me."
"Well, " Ian said. "I guess the game's over until the power comes back on."
"Let's go upstairs and get a snack," Johnny said. "Our parents are out tonight, but our mom made some cookies today. She won't mind if we steal some."
"Ooh–good idea," Sarah said.
There was the sound of people moving to stand up,
"Um, guys?" George said abruptly. "Does anyone else notice anything weird? Like, what happened to our chairs?"
There was a second of silence, then everyone started talking at the same time.
"Where's the table?"
"What happened to the carpet?"
"Why's it so hot all of a sudden?"
A sniffing sound. "What's that smell?"
Everyone was starting to realize that something fundamental had changed, but the total darkness made it impossible to determine exactly what it was. The game table was missing. It had simply disappeared. The carpet had been replaced by a cement floor. The temperature had risen several degrees. Their chairs had been replaced by something that felt like a crude bench. The room that they were in felt smaller, as if the walls were closing in on the group in an attempt to suffocate them.
Somebody started to cry.
"Everyone, be quiet!" Ollie was almost shouting. "Let me think. First, is everyone all right?"
Five voices answered him with differing degrees of assurance. Everyone was there, and no one was hurt.
"We need some light," Ollie said. "Or else we need to get out of here. Johnny, you're closest to the stairs. Can you find them?"
He heard Johnny moving carefully away.
"No stairs," Johnny reported. "And The Map is gone, too."
The Map was made up of eight card tables and probably weighed half a ton. How could it have just disappeared?
"All right." Ollie spoke with a remarkable calm that he did not feel in the least. "Everyone move to a wall. Look for anything. A door, a light switch, anything at all."
Now there was a commotion as everyone moved at once, stumbling in every direction, occasionally running into each other.
"I found something," said Jordan's voice. "A ladder. Over here against the wall."
"I'll go up," Ian volunteered. He moved toward the sound of Jordan's voice and then could be heard making his way up the ladder. Nobody remarked on the strange fact that a ladder had suddenly appeared in a room where there hadn't been one before.
"There's a trap door up here. I'm going to open it." Ian's voice came from much higher than Ollie would have expected. Apparently, the ceiling had risen as well. What the heck was going on?
A square of light appeared from above, finally giving the group a dim view of their surroundings.
They weren't in the basement anymore, at least not in the same basement. Ollie just stared in shock. He noticed peripherally that the others were doing the same.
The room where they found themselves was much cruder than their previous location. It reminded Ollie of pictures he had seen of ruins from medieval castles or churches. The walls and the floor were solid stone, and the only furnishings were stone benches that had been placed in a circle at the center of the room. Other than those, the only other features were the ladder that Jordan had found and a strange symbol that had been carved into the floor directly in the middle of the circle of benches. It was circular, about three feet wide, and contained swirling patterns that Ollie didn't recognize.
"Are you guys playing a prank on me?" Sarah's voice didn't sound as confident as it usually did. "Is this some kind of joke?"
Ollie thought furiously, but he couldn't come up with an explanation for what he was seeing. Had they been drugged somehow, kidnapped and brought to this room? Was he asleep? Just dreaming everything? Was it some kind of mass hallucination? But he felt awake. It didn't seem like a dream.
"Well?" Sarah asked, still waiting for the answer to her question.
"Look around, Sarah," Ian said. "Everyone's as scared as you are."
"What's up there, Ian?" George asked. "Does it go outside?"
"No," Ian said. "It's another room. I see an altar and some stained-glass windows. I think we're in a church."
A church. Something about that rang a chord in Ollie's mind. They had just been in a church, in the game. Now they were in a real church. That seemed like more than a coincidence.
"Let's get out of this basement," he said. "We need to figure out what's going on."
"Thank the heavens," said a new voice from above the trap door. Ollie had never heard it in his life. "I was afraid that the incantation wouldn't work."
A bearded face looked down from the opening. He seemed like someone Ollie should recognize, even though he had never seen him before.
"Who are you?" Sarah asked.
The man smiled broadly. "I'm Father Peter. Welcome to my parish."
Chapter Sixteen
All of the theories that had been running through Ollie's head flew away like leaves in the wind. He must have heard the man wrong. There was no Father Peter. Ian had made him up less than an hour ago. He was a bit player in their game campaign. There was no way he could actually exist.
But they were definitely not in the Everts' basement anymore. And there was definitely a strange man looking down at them from the floor above with a hopeful expression in his eyes. Ollie couldn't think of any explanation for these events. Nowhere in all of his reading had he come across anything like this.
"Guys," George said, sounding much more excited than scared, "we're in the game! We're actually in Valoria!"
"Don't be stupid, George," Ian said. "Valoria isn't real. We made it up."
"Well, then where did Father Peter come from?"
Ian didn't have an answer for that.
The father in question had been watching them with concern. "Please, Come join me in my chapel. I can see that you're disoriented. Perhaps I'll be able to explain."
"Come on," Ollie said. "Let's go up. I don't see what else to do."
The six teens climbed up the ladder one by one. The trap door opened into a chapel, at a location behind the altar. Fading sunlight was shining through the windows of the church, despite the fact that it had been dark when they had first gone downstairs to play the game. Father Peter was wearing a simple brown robe that seemed to be covering armor of some type, maybe chain mail.
"You look quite young to be heroes," he noted. "And what manner of apparel are you wearing?"
"Heroes?" Johnny said.
"What do you mean?" Ollie asked.
"Last night I performed a summoning ritual. I implored the heavens to send those who could save my people. I was greatly afraid that the summoning had failed. Much of the workings of magic in this region have been erratic of late. But you have arrived in my summoning circle. My prayers have not been in vain."
"But..." Sarah's voice sounded small. "We're not heroes. We're just a bunch of teenagers."
"Teenagers?" Father Peter asked, then shook his head. "It matters not. The spell would not have summoned you if you were not accepting of the task."
"But that was just a game," Ollie said. "It wasn't real. We were role-playing."
"Guys," George said. "Think about it. We're in Valoria. We could see the dwarves. We could go to the capital. We could even visit the endless waterfall." He paused for a second and a dreamy look came over his face. "We could meet the elves."
"You're forgetting something, George," Ian said. "We're in the middle of a campaign, remember? The dark force from the north? The missing travelers? People dying of a strange sickness?"
"You already know about our troubles?" Father Peter asked. "How could that be? You've only just arrived."
"It's hard to e
xplain," Ollie said. "It's impossible, actually."
"Guys?" Sarah said quietly.
They all looked at her. There were tears in her eyes.
"I'm really scared. I want to go home. Can we go home?"
Father Peter's expression softened. "I'm afraid that isn't possible. At least, not yet."
"What do you mean, we can't go back?" Jordan asked in her most dangerous voice.
"You've accepted the quest," Father Peter said. "I'm afraid that you are bound to this place until it is completed. Thus were the requirements of the summoning."
Even George could see they were in trouble.
Chapter Seventeen
"All right," George said, breaking the silence. "We just need to finish the campaign. How hard can it be? We've beaten hundreds of them."
"Yeah," Johnny said, "but in case you haven't noticed, George, you're not a half-elf fighter. Ollie isn't a wizard. Jordan isn't a barbarian warrior princess. We're just us."
"We're dead." Ian looked sick.
"What..." Ollie started, but he was interrupted by a door opening at the top of a staircase.
A little brown-haired girl, maybe eight years old, stuck her head out of the doorway. She stared wide-eyed at the newcomers for a moment before turning to Father Peter.
"Father, Mumma needs you again. She hurts."
Father Peter stood up wearily, "Tell your Mumma I'll be right there, Talia. I'm sorry," he said to the others. "My dear wife is one of those who have contracted the dark malady, and the illness has resisted my most powerful healing rites. If you will excuse me, I must go tend to her. I'll return shortly." He walked up the stairs and disappeared through the opening, closing the door behind him.
"This can't be real," Sarah said. "I have to be dreaming."
"If you are, then I am too," Ollie said.
"Ow," Jordan said. "That really hurt." There was a red mark on her arm where she had just pinched herself. "It seems real to me."
"Okay, look, guys," George said. "We may not be heroes, but we know more about this place than anyone. We made this world! I bet we can figure out a way to beat the campaign."
"We don't know everything," Ian said.
"What do you mean?" Ollie asked.
"Well, just look at Father Peter's daughter."
"Talia?" Johnny asked.
"Right," Ian said. "Does anyone remember giving her a name when we were playing?" No one did. "I never named her. In fact, I only just made her up when Sarah asked about the priest's family. But here she is, and she has a name. And I didn't say anything about Father Peter's wife being sick."
"All right, then," Ollie said. "Why don't we go over what we do know. It's your campaign, Ian. What exactly are we supposed to be going up against?"
"It's bad." Ian's expression alone was enough to make Ollie shiver.
"Come on," George said. "How bad can it be?"
Ollie ran through a list of monsters in his mind. Vampires, dragons, dark sorcerers, giants. Hundreds of creatures, each worse than the last. It could be really bad, he realized. Incredibly bad.
As it turned out, he had underestimated just how bad it was.
"I'm really, really sorry guys, " Ian shook his head slowly, avoiding their eyes. "I wanted it to be really tough. I thought it would be fun. The boss is a... a demon lord."
Chapter Eighteen
"A demon lord?" Ollie repeated. Demons, in general, were pretty much the toughest monsters in the game, but a demon lord was almost impossible. There were only a few of them, and they couldn't be killed. If you were extremely lucky, you might be able to banish one, but it took very powerful magic. "Which one?"
"Alakabal. Lord of the nether world. He has broken his bindings and invaded the mortal plane. If he's not stopped..." Ian trailed off. Everyone except for Sarah knew exactly what that meant. Death and torture for thousands, maybe the destruction of the entire world.
"Wow," George said. He sounded impressed. "Demon lord. I should have thought of that."
"You're kidding, right? There's no way we could fight a measly skeleton by ourselves, " Johnny said. "A demon lord? Really?"
"This isn't real," Ian said. "Can't be. I made it up. Father Peter didn't even exist until just an hour ago when I thought up the name. Not real."
"Did you see the little girl's face?" Sarah asked.
"What?" Jordan asked.
"Talia," Sarah said. "Did you see her face? She looked so sad."
"She's not real," Ian said. "None of this is real."
"She looked real to me," Sarah said. "She's literally the saddest thing I've ever seen in my life. We have to help them."
"Listen, Sarah," Ian said. "Even if this was real, do you have any idea what a demon lord is?"
Sarah shook her head.
"We're talking about a creature that is about as all-powerful as they come. He can kill you just by looking at you. He can command legions of lesser demons. Just by being in this region, he's making people sick to the point of death. We're just a bunch of nerds. What are we supposed to do against something like that? We can't even go near him."
"I don't know," Sarah said. "But Ollie will think of something."
Before Ollie could react to this flattering and misplaced show of confidence, the door at the top of the staircase opened again, and Father Peter reemerged. This time he was followed by a boy who was even younger than Talia. He followed his father timidly down the staircase.
"My apologies," Father Peter said when he reached the bottom of the stairs. "I've done what I can for now. My wife is resting."
"Are these the heroes?" the boy asked. "They don't look like heroes."
Very perceptive, Ollie thought.
"They are those who were sent," Father Peter said. "We must have faith, Nicolas. Things are not always as they seem."
"Are you going to help my Mumma?" Nicolas asked. "Will you make her better?"
"Not real," Ian murmured, almost to himself.
"I don't know if we can," Ollie said to the boy. "We might not be strong enough."
"We don't belong here," Johnny said. "This place shouldn't even exist."
"I understand that you are disoriented," said the father, "but I can assure you that this land is real. I have lived and ministered in this church since it was built nigh fifteen years ago."
"No," Ian said. "I just created you today. Not possible."
Now the priest showed a flare of anger. "Speak not such blasphemy. There is but one creator, and you are not He. It is by His power that you are here. Speak not of things of which you know not."
"We're sorry," Ollie said. "But you have to understand. We are not heroes. Surely you can see that. Isn't there anyone in the region better suited to meet this challenge? Aren't there any real fighters or wizards?"
Father Peter shook his head sadly. "Most people have no knowledge of this remote corner of the world. I doubt we even show on most maps. The only other settlement within five days travel is the elvish encampment to the northeast." George started fidgeting at that announcement. "They are aware of the situation. They have been affected by it as much as we have, but even with their resources, they have been unable to discover the source of our troubles."
"But haven't you sent for help?" Johnny asked.
"We've tried, but there is trouble everywhere. There is evil to face in every corner of the world. Nobody is going to come to this remote outpost where all we have are rumors. Not when dragons are rampaging elsewhere, or the dead are rising from their graves in other nearby regions. My summoning ritual was a last resort, and a dangerous one."
"Dangerous how?" Jordan asked.
Father Peter glanced at the staircase and the door at the top. "The ritual required a great amount of exertion. I fear that the drain on my strength will make me less able to heal those that are ill. It will take time to regain my full energy."
And his own wife was sick, the mother of his children. Father Peter had made a desperate attempt to find help. And he had been sent a group of teen
agers who wouldn't be able to fight off a bully at school, let alone a demon lord of almost infinite power. Ollie would have laughed if it wasn't such a horrible situation.
"We need to talk to Wendall," he said. "He probably has that map."
"You know of Wizard Wendall? And of the map?"
"We know way too much for our own good, Father," Ollie said.
"We're going to die," Ian said. "Why did I pick demons? I just wanted to go out with a bang. Why demons?"
"Look, Ian," Ollie said. "There has to be a way out of this. We'll find it." He turned to face the rest of the group. "What do you guys think?"
George's eyes were shining. "I want to see the elves."
Chapter Nineteen
Ollie lay on the straw pallet that Father Peter had prepared for him and stared at the ceiling. He was tired–well, emotionally drained might be a better expression–but he couldn't sleep. He kept expecting to wake up at any moment in his bed at home. If this was some kind of dream, then it was the most persistent dream he had ever had.
Disturbing noises could be heard from outside the walls of the church. Sounds of animals, or maybe other things. Howls that were nearly human voices. Scratching and clawing sounds. Occasionally, there were the sounds of animal-like screams, either of pain or of triumph. Ollie was glad they had followed Father Peter's advice. He had wanted to leave immediately to find the magic user, but the father had warned them about leaving the building at night. The church was a sanctuary, and it could protect them from many of the dangers that were prevalent during the darker hours.
"Ollie?" Apparently, he wasn't the only one who was having trouble sleeping.
"I'm awake, Sarah. Are you okay?"
"I guess so. Kinda scared."
There was a particularly loud howl from outside that lasted for a full five seconds. Ollie shivered. "Yeah. Me too. I just can't understand what happened to us." He couldn't help himself from chuckling. "Actually, there've been a lot of things I haven't understood lately."
