Monroe

Chapter Two Hundred and Ten. God Save the Queen.

As the last of the Mana Crystals disappeared, Bob unclenched his jaw and staggered to his feet, wincing as his joints protested the hours of inactivity.

A wave of sound crashed over him, and he opened his eyes, then froze. There were a thousand or more Australians surrounding the stone slab that now capped their Dungeon, and they were shouting loudly, the conflicting voices unintelligible.

He dropped a portal under his feet and fell through it.

Thirty seconds earlier.

Dave watched with bated breath as the colorful show reached its epic conclusion. He wasn't alone, as every voice stilled as the rainbow of ethereal light sank into the ground, leaving a slab of polished granite behind, lines of copper embedded on top, swirling in a beautiful pattern. The rainbow was replaced by shifting shades of purple, violet, and lilac as the lines in the stone flashed incandescently, and the greater purpose of the pattern became clear.

The crowd shifted, and gasps were heard as the light rushed out from the slab, illuminating the ambient mana that drifted along the ground, winding its way through the crowd. Then the pattern pulled, and the mana rushed through and past the crowd, flooding the slab as it spun itself into solid threads, then ropes, as it slammed into the center where Bob sat.

A vortex of mana swirled around him, casting his profile in an eldritch light. Dave could see the droplets of sweat rolling down his face while his closed eyes squinted as if he were staring at something that only he could see.

With a soundless clap of thunder that could be felt but not heard, the mana flared one final time, then rushed down into the granite, leaving the copper pattern glowing slightly.

Bob staggered to his feet, and the crowd, which had been silent, suddenly roared their approval. Bob looked around wildly and dropped through a portal.

"I might need a dip in that glacier runoff," Jessica said loudly, fanning herself. "That was sexy as hell!"

"You aren't alone," a raven-haired Aussie girl grinned at them, "that was some proper wizardry there." She visibly shivered. "He was working all that power like a conductor leading an orchestra."

"He's too old for you," Jessica scolded her before pulling her into a hug and turning her face to Dave and Amanda.

"This is my little sister, Melony," Jessica squeezed her again.

"So you're the kid sister we heard so many stories about," Dave grinned. "I remember Jessi telling us about you rigging up a saddle for one of the rams when you were six or so."

Melony blushed and elbowed Jessica in the side. "I was six," she grumbled, "but more to the point, where did he go?"

"We spooked him," Amanda supplied the answer. "Bob isn't... great with people."

"Can we go take a look in the Dungeon now?" Jessica asked hopefully.

"Should be able to, from what I've been told, monsters will start spawning in an hour or so," Dave agreed.

Dave walked across the granite slab, Amanda, Jessica, and Melony in tow. The entrance to the Dungeon was on the far side of the slab, facing towards the center of the valley. He walked down the steps and looked around the familiar surroundings of a Bob Built Dungeon. He noted that the 'X' marks on the floor now had 'Stand here to kill monsters' etched in the stone below them.

"Jesus fucking christ, Bob, " Dave chuckled.

"Look at the walls," Amanda nudged him with an elbow and pointed, drawing his attention.

The six rules of delving into a Dungeon were carved into the wall, written out in letters a foot high that emitted a light glow.

"I can almost hear him shouting at us," Amanda grinned.

"Strike, move, strike!" Dave chanted.

"A-Always, B-Be, K-Killing!" Amanda joined in.

"What are you on about?" Melony asked.

"Quiet, shy little Bob turns into a drill sergeant when he's teaching people how to become Adventurers," Jessica explained. "I saw a bit of it, but Dave and Amanda here got the full treatment."

"Is he going to be teaching us?" Melony asked.

"Probably not," Dave replied, "he's got a lot going on."

He noted that Melony looked rather disappointed at that statement.

Bob was caught entirely unaware as Monroe plowed into his leg as soon as he fell into his inventory. He managed to catch himself on the wall before he fell down, but it was a near thing.

"Hey, Buddy," Bob mumbled as he established a more grounded stance, which proved wise as Monroe leaned hard against his leg, purring as he rubbed his side against Bob's leg.

Reaching down, Bob started rubbing the mega-chonker behind the ears. "I know," he commiserated, "I've been neglecting a kitty cat," he shook his head sadly. "The shame!" Bob said dramatically before sitting down cross-legged and leaning back against the wall, which Monroe took as an invitation to pour himself over Bob's lap.

"Yes, you're the most handsome kitty in the world," Bob told Monroe as he dug his fingers deep into the big cat's ruff, revving the purr motor. Monroe twisted and pulled one of Bob's hands down with a paw, where he began to give it a tentative lick.

"Gah!" Bob gasped, trying to extricate his hand. Monroe's tongue was like a grindstone. "I know, human is delicious, which is hardly a kitty's fault, but I need that hand," Bob explained.

After a few more licks and an experimental nibble, Monroe released the hand and squirmed onto his back, displaying his belly.

Bob gave the belly a single pet and waited to see if more belly petting was being requested or if he'd be punished for his temerity.

Monroe waited a moment, then flowed over onto his side, back against Bob's belly and chest, and did his best to curl up on Bob's lap.

"I don't know why all those people were yelling at me," Bob confided, "I built them a Dungeon, you'd think they'd be grateful, not angry."

Monroe purred happily, his tail twitching up to cover his face.

"I guess they could have been excited," Bob reluctantly admitted, "but that response seemed a little excessive."

Monroe flexed his paws happily as the petting continued.

"I'll check in with Dave and Amanda later after everyone has calmed down," Bob agreed.

"No," Bob sighed, "I'm not going to hunt my fellow man for sport, you always suggest that," he scolded.

Huron looked up from the pile of paperwork that never seemed to get any smaller. An acolyte had entered the room and approached the desk.

"Yes?" Huron asked with a smile, trying to set the girl at ease.

"Sir, there's one of the people from Earth here,," she said uncertainly, "he said it's imperative that he see you."

"Did he give you his name?" Huron asked gently.

"Jason, sir," the acolyte blushed.

Huron leaned back, letting his mind work. The memories came easily. Jason was one of the people who'd come from Earth to become Adventurers rather than being part of Earth's military forces.

He'd chosen to become a Curator, had been recently delving the Dungeon in Harbordeep. He wasn't closely associated with Bob but rather a few steps removed.

"Send him in, please," Huron instructed.

The acolyte disappeared and was quickly replaced by a tall, lanky figure who sketched a quick bow. "Your eminence," Jason said.

"None of that," Huron chuckled as he stood and walked around his desk. "I'm a simple priest, forced by circumstance to bear the awful burden of leadership and its attendant paperwork," he gestured to the pile on his desk.

"How can Vi'Radia's light illuminate your path today?" Huron asked.

"The Queen of my country needs to be reincarnated as quickly as possible," Jason began, "and while I know there are others who can use that ritual, you're the High Priest of Vi'Radia." He paused for a moment to consider his words. "Our Queen is beloved by her people, even though she has little to do with the day-to-day rule of the country. You're the best person to conduct the ritual."

Huron considered that statement. Jason was from a country called 'England,' which held a position of prominence on Earth.

He was well aware of the various nations on Earth, and to a degree, their relationships with each other. Annisa had provided him with a 'laptop' that held copious information about Earth.

'England' was one of the more enlightened nations, one where they recognized the mistakes that had been made in the past and sought to avoid repeating them. The monarchy there was symbolic, but from what he'd read, quite popular.

"A choice between helping a friend and reading through more paperwork is no choice at all," Huron smiled. "Let me advise the acolyte tasked with keeping tracking of me that I'll be out of the office for a bit."

Jason stepped through the portal last, two of the Queen's men having preceded Huron and two more following the priest. The Queen was once again behind her desk while the Prime Minister stood beside it.

"Your Majesty," Jason began awkwardly, "may I introduce Huron, Leader of the Church of the Light."

He was surprised as Huron stepped forward and bowed elegantly. "Huron, Beloved of the Light, by Vi'Radia's grace, Head of the Church of the Light, High Priest of Vi'Radia, Of the Seven Gods of the Light, Bane of the Shadows."

Jason fought back a gasp as Huron unleashed an aura of light. The man's skin glowed golden, and the entire room was suffused in a gentle light, emanating from everywhere at once, leaving the room completely without shadows. More than just light, Jason could feel Huron's presence, like nothing he'd felt before. It practically reverberated with truth, and love, and kindness, and steadfast loyalty, but above all, confidence.

"Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith," The Queen stated calmly as she rose, taking the Prime Ministers arm as he offered it, and stepping around her desk, walking carefully to stand in front of Huron.

"We were given to understand that Greenwold followed a similar tradition of surnames," The Queen noted.

"I was one of many orphans found in the rubble of the Harbordeep Docks in the aftermath of the Tide of the Millenia six hundred years ago," Huron replied. "The Church took us all in, and while they tried to reunite us with family, or at least determine who our family had been, I was too young to be of any help, and I went unclaimed."

"It saddens us to know that your nation has had to face such tribulations," The Queen began, "however we do welcome the aid and succor you have offered the people of Earth, may it ease your mind to know that your efforts will save countless lives."

Huron bowed his head, and Jason took a few steps back. This was well outside his expertise.

"We've asked our subject to request that you make use of your gifts to 'reincarnate' us," The Queen cut straight to the heart of the matter. "The new world that stretches out before us is one that will require us to stand, physically, rather than metaphorically, between our subjects and danger. Our children aren't prepared to accept that burden, so we must continue to shoulder our duty."

"I would be honored to perform the ritual on your behalf," Huron replied, then his lips quirked into a smile. "You'll likely want to be sitting down, though," he warned gently.

The Queen nodded and walked back around her desk. Huron followed and stood next to the Prime Minister.

"This won't take long, your Majesty," Huron assured her, "although I must in all good conscience warn you that while you'll be returned to the flower of your youth, your years will number between five and ten fewer afterward, unless you advance to a higher tier, and reincarnate again."

"Our subjects face annihilation," The Queen replied, "we must once again stand before them. No cost is too great."

Jason swallowed hard. He realized that he was witnessing history.

He'd always been proud to be an Englishman. Despite its missteps, his country had served as a beacon of knowledge and hope for centuries, long before their cousins across the pond had chosen to take that burden unto themselves.

Hearing his Queen's steadfast resolve to fight for England was inspiring.

Huron held out a hand, and the Queen delicately placed her own into his. Seconds passed slowly. After a slow count of one hundred, the Queen gasped and dropped her hand, allowing Huron to step back.

Jason watched in awe as the silver fled her hair, chased away by black tresses so dark they seemed to try and drink in the light. Her skin, lined with wrinkles and parchment-thin, flushed with vitality, thickening and smoothing until she practically glowed with youth.

She lifted a hand, and half a dozen men that had begun to rush forward paused.

"We are well," she assured them. "In fact, I suspect we are better than we've been since our girlhood."

The Queen of England stood up from her chair, waved away the Prime Minister's arm, and flowed across the floor, exhibiting uncommon grace.

She nodded thoughtfully as she reached the center of the room, seeming satisfied.

"Young man, have we established one of these 'Dungeons' for our subjects' use?" The Queen asked Jason.

"I believe the Australians are building their Dungeon even as we speak," Jason offered hesitantly, "as the only Englishman, I wasn't able to argue persuasively that England ought to have primacy, Ma'am."

"If I might offer, the Church in Harbordeep would be happy to host you, and your young Jason here could act as your shepherd," Huron smiled, "the Dungeon in Harbordeep doesn't see a great deal of traffic on the first few floors."

The Queen nodded decisively. "We'll have to bring half a dozen of our men along with us," she stated with a smile, "they'll not allow us to go galivanting off without them."

"Of course," Huron agreed as he turned to Jason, "once the Queen has her attendants gathered, feel free to arrive in my antechamber, I should have all arrangements sorted out."

"I'll take my leave and see to matters on my world, your Majesty," Huron said before a golden archway appeared before him. He stepped through, and it vanished, leaving the room suddenly feeling empty, dim, and a bit cooler.

"An impressive man," The Queen murmured thoughtfully.