The butler led Stephen to a room on the first floor, just past a collection of decorated suits of armor encased in glass cases. Stephen's neck prickled, he could have sworn the suits' gazes followed him down the corridor, where he and the butler stopped. The double doors ahead of them were about eight feet tall, embalmed in a warm red finish, and decorated in black filigree. The butler knocked twice, paused, then knocked again. The doors creaked open slowly, Stephen wondered how heavy the doors must have been for whoever was on the other side.

The doors parted to reveal a long elegant dining table lit by a broad bronze chandelier. At the end of the table sat the same figure Stephen saw in the portraits upstairs. However, instead of the bright emerald-eyed man Stephen had seen, this one looked older, stricken with a pointed expression as he watched Stephen follow the butler through the doorway.

“Your Majesty,” The butler announced with a bow, “I have brought your guest.”

It occurred to Stephen that nobody was next to him to open the door. They had seemingly opened themselves. He also saw several suits of armor similar to the ones from before. These, however, were less decorated and similar to typical fantasy knights Stephen knew from games. The knights stood still, resting their gauntlets on the pommels of longswords. The light was too poor to see their faces as the knights kept close eyes on Stephen’s approach.

A chair slid out from the table and the butler gestured towards it. Stephen took a seat opposite the king. The butler left without another word and the doors creaked shut behind Stephen. The sound of hollow metal rang as two of the knights left their position to stand in front of the door. Stephen had nowhere to go now. A nervous shiver ran through Stephen as he forced himself to keep looking forward.

The candlelight from the chandelier did nothing for the king’s harsh composition. Shadows danced across his cheekbones and under his brow. The man’s figure was overwhelming. He had broad shoulders, a rigid neck, and the rich emerald robe he wore just barely fit over his chest. The king grabbed a goblet from the table and drank heavily. Stephen wondered if the king could crumple it like a soda can.

“So,” The king said, “You’re the one they sent.”

It was hard for Stephen to tell if the king was disappointed, or if he just didn’t care.

“I think there’s been a mistake,” Stephen began, his voice growing panicked and squeaky.

The king shook his head, “You had the letter.”

“It was an accident,” Stephen watched as a covered plate slid across the table and parked in front of him.

The king held his hands together in front of his chin. Only his eyes, reflecting the flickering light from above, were visible.

“Do you take me for a fool? I don’t think you understand the situation.”

Stephen’s mouth tightened, he felt sick. The whole situation was messed up.

“I know you weren’t meant to be here,” The king continued, “However, that doesn’t change the fact that you can’t go back. Charles and Emily abandoned this responsibility long ago and now it’s yours.”

“You know my parents?” Stephen sat straight. Every part of his body was itching, telling him to run.

“I knew them, back when they were part of my world. I suppose I should have expected this much, they never wanted to come back.”

Stephen shook his head, none of this made sense. His parents had never mentioned living in another world, why would they have kept that a secret?

“It’s true, whether you want to believe me or not. Regardless, I don’t have to explain anything to you, not now. For the time being, you and I will enjoy dinner. Then you’ll begin training, tomorrow morning.”

Stephen stood from his chair, he was tired of this prank, he was ready to go back, “I don’t have to do anything. I am done, whoever’s pulling this stunt can show themselves now!”

In a second, the knights who were behind Stephen, guarding the door, stepped up and placed an arm on each of his shoulders. Stephen was easily shoved back into his seat, held tight by the knights’ inhuman strength.

Stephen struggled helplessly against the two knights. He looked over his should, straight into the knight’s visor. The suit was empty. Held together by nothing except air.

“Sit!” The king’s voice boomed, filling the room with a dominating tone, “You are in the presence of his majesty, King August Elbrick the thirty-seventh, ruler of the Kingdom of Gale!”

Stephen’s heart pounded, he was a prisoner. The world he knew was gone, torn away from him in a second, replaced with this enchanted world.

The king drew a long breath before speaking again, his tone a little quieter, “I didn’t want things to go this way, but there is no time. Your parents, whether they meant to or not, have shirked this responsibility and now you will fill their shoes.”

Stephen wanted to rebel, to resist the knights and run far from here, but he was held fast. It seemed he had no choice, at least for the moment. He would listen to the king, maybe even play the pawn, but he’d make a break for it at the first opportunity.

“Stephen Clay, son of Charles and Emily Clay, former Wizard and Witch of Gale, you are hereby summoned to serve King Elbrick! You shall be trained in the art of magic, then you will recover my lost daughter.”

Stephen, who had just a moment ago been plotting and resisting with every fiber of his body, heard the king’s words and stopped struggling. His imagination, born of and nurtured with video games, anime, movies, and literature, had suddenly been reignited. This situation and quest sounded like the beginning of a traditional fantasy quest, involving a lost princess and a mysterious hero. Stephen Clay was suddenly very interested.