SAVE POINT 1
Rosabella
Goran couldn't just let it go? He couldn't just let us be?!
Of course not—
Of course he'd have to be an asshole.
I was seething—fuming. In fact, I hadn't even truly known the meaning of those words till just now—this exact moment—as I gritted my teeth and stared blankly out into the valley where fire still smoked and warriors of every breed and their dragons detached themselves from each other in wandering groups. ...Because, from what they could see, I’d just saved their world. ...While the man who'd been standing with them was apparently now hellbent on dooming it.
Rainer, the red-bristly-bearded Nomad who’d lately felt like some sort of uncle to me, slung his bow over his back as he squinted at the writing on the ornate, Temple wall. "Goran's gonna try to destroy The Game? Is that what it means?" he huffed, eyeing up the same message on the wall we'd all been staring at grimly for the last few minutes:
IF I CAN'T HAVE HER, NO ONE CAN. I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL. GOODBYE, GAME. GOODBYE, ROSIE.
"You should have let me run him through," Joy's voice was sour as she whipped her pink ponytail over her shoulder—the Warrior really couldn’t leave the ‘I told you so’ out of it? Her black-eyeliner-rimmed eyes narrowed disapprovingly at me, "You should have—ouch!" She grabbed at her injured shoulder, where an arrow shaft still protruded, her entire face wrinkling with a wince. "God—so the lights...Rosabella, are the cities back again?"
She meant the ones on the ridge—the lights I’d lit with the Creator Magic. I’d had to use all 400 CMP to do so… I nodded, but it meant very little now. I'd saved their game world from slipping too low in Game Damage Points only to actually cause more harm? I’d been trying to do the right thing! And it’d just...backfired. It looked like Goran was going to try to destroy The Game anyway—
"Hey, hey...no moving towards any kind of lights, you hear me?" Rainer jostled the pink-haired girl's limp form upward, helping her stand. I noticed how pale her face was against her vibrant locks and exchanged a worried look with Rainer.
"She needs a health pack," the burly man barked, "I have to get her back to that weirdo sorceress and see if we can barter for one."
"We'll help," Dormouse started, darting forward to support Joy's sagging limbs, but the muscular Nomad shook his head at both of us—honestly, it wasn’t like the lanky, nerd kid was going to do much to prop up her form anyway.
"No, you two need to find Goran," the lines in Rainer's face were serious like the frown buried under his bristling beard, "We didn't just save The Game only to let him destroy it. Dormouse, you're our best Coder. Rosabella will need you. Find Goran, and take him down."
I couldn't agree more except...
"What about Joy and...Callen?" I asked. Callen. The dead man's name burned in the back of my throat, and my voice sounded feeble, wobbling on the question as I pinned a strand of brunette hair, flying in my face, behind my ear. And all of our eyes swept into the dark corner of the balcony none of us wanted to remember. ...Where our fearless leader and friend's body lay...cold...silent. It sent a shiver through me even just seeing his silhouette, laying there on the cold, hard ground, because he’d been alive. He’d just been alive...
Moving.
Now, still.
Now...gone.
Unexpected tears stung at my eyes, blurring my vision around the edges.
"We'll give him a hero's burial," Rainer insisted, his deep voice muffled by his sadness, "I'll get Joy help and, then, come back for him. He will not go unremembered."
I nodded.
"And I'll haul Joy across the entire forest single-handedly if I have to to get her that med pack—" Rainer continued.
[JAHELTARUFF, DRAGON 11 - Draconic Telepathy Channel Opened. The Humans Can Hear You Now. +10 XP, 1153/1200]
You won't have to, scruffy Nomad. I'll help. I will help the Game Maker. Also…the one with the beard needs a shower.
A male voice chimed between my ears—a dragon? Huge, green wings flapped upward from the chasm. The spikes of a dragonhead I’d never seen before rose above us—the sharp bits of it so prevalent that it looked more like a porcupine with wings than a dragon. The beast grinned toothily at me—as much as a dragon could grin with a thousand, spikey teeth, mirroring his bizarre, armored body. Somehow, it strangely appeared affectionate.
Hello, brave Game Maker. Anyone brave befits the service of a Charmus Tsung. My congratulations. We will help you with whatever is needed.
[System Reward: You’ve Gained The Trust Of A Charmus Tsung Herd +10 XP, 881/900]
Charmus Tsung? Yep, definitely hadn’t heard of that kind of dragon before. I wondered what…
“System—" I started.
[System Understands Query…Loading Response…]
Damn…apparently, it had read my thoughts…
[System Answer: A CHARMUS TSUNG Is A Large Dragon Characterized By A Spiney, Porcupine-Like Exterior And A Wrinkled Face.
STRENGTHS: Highly Loyal, Wise And Social, These Creatures Flock In Herds And Collect And Horde CM And Treasure Communally. Many Weapons And Bites Cannot Penetrate Their Armor. WEAKNESSES: They Are Often More On The Defense, Protecting Their Herd, Than Offense. The Weight Of Their Armor Makes Them Slow In Battle.]
NAME
CHARMUS TSUNG
CLASS & LEVEL
DRAGON 11
XP
1153/1200
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
MRP
108370/109500
HP
200/243
Baddie Points
420
Armor Class
20/20
ABILITIES /20
Strength
+4
19
Agility
+0
10
Endurance
+6
23
Intelligence
+2
13
Awareness
+7
25
Presence
+2
15
CM
25
My eyes raked over the stats. Wow, communal dragons? …Wait, had the system pop up before said…’I’d gained the trust of a Charmus Tsung herd’??? I gaped at the creature and at the neon words bobbing, mid-air, in front of my eyes, but my mouth only dropped further as the beast flapped its wings, rising…and four other green, spikey dragons rose beneath it.
"You're..."—what was happening right now?—"You're welcome," I stuttered, dismissing the stats box with a wave. You're welcome? I'd meant 'thank you'! I could never get used to talking to these massive creatures. How was anyone supposed to?
The Green Charmus Tsung furrowed its eyebrows, squinting at me. With the ridges over his eyes, he looked like an old man. Its wings, and the wings of its massive crew, beat at the air with a whir louder than a helicopter. Maybe it hadn’t heard me? Wishful thinking… I flatted my palms against the breastplate of my white, body armor, wiping them downward awkwardly and wondering where I was supposed to lead the conversation now that I'd royally screwed it up...
If the electric-haired one is injured, we will take her and the smelly one to a health pack. We will help. Is that what you want, Game Maker?
Jaheltaruff—the leader Charmus Tsung—nodded his huge, green head at Joy and Rainer as the proposed trade materialized between us:
[Proposed Trade: JAHELTRARUFF, GREEN CHARMUS TSUNG 11 & Green Charmus Tsung Herd Will Provide Ride For JOY, WARRIOR 13 And RAINER, NOMAD 10. JAHELTRARUFF, GREEN CHARMUS TSUNG 11 Does Not Ask For Anything In Return.]
[Will You Accept the Trade?]
[Yes] [No]
I narrowed my eyes at the text, suspiciously, using a hand in the air to get Rainer to pause for a second. The proposed trade said the dragon didn’t want anything in return? "Wait, what's your price?" I hedged.
But the lime-colored dragon swept his chubby neck low.
Anything for the Game Maker who saved the world. ...Plus, you kicked that Commandress demon out on her tail, which we thoroughly enjoyed. Her power trip has been going to hell in a handbasket for far too long.
His black lips curled back in a rippling chuckle.
But a twisting unease lit my belly at the beast’s words.
...And at his bow.
This wasn’t going to go like Goran had said. I wasn’t a ruler. I wasn’t going to be a ruler. ...But it was kind of convenient that the dragons would take Joy and Rainer to grab a med pack… The ride would be far easier and safer than a trek on foot through the forest even with the Nomad on guard.
"Okay," I nodded both at Joy, Rainer and at the dragon, deciding quickly, "And Dormouse and I will find Goran."
[System Alert: Trade Accepted]
[System Reward: It’s Kinda Weird Being Revered…But, Also, Kind of Beneficial, +15 XP, 896/900]
[System Reward: Apparently, Your Reputation Is On The Way Up, +15 Baddie Points, 635]
I watched Rainer grunt as he lifted Joy up, onto the green scales of the beast, before turning to face the nerdy kid I was left with. The dork's face held his typically nervous, blank expression while his eyes, also per usual, were sharp and black—reading every dimple in my face.
"How would someone destroy The Game?" I asked the kid, keeping my voice to a lowered whisper so the herd of dragons didn't overhear. If we were going to figure out how Goran might wipe our Game world off the face of the map, we were going to have to start thinking like the enemy.
Dormouse chewed on his lower lip, considering and weighing his answers while his pale hands did backflips in the air as he began to explain, "Well, it'd be a hack for sure. They'd have to get in the Code, past the firewall and chip away at the security measures—"
"Dormouse, remember that English thing?" I joked.
He sighed, rolling his eyes like it was all too much to translate his web of scurrying thoughts into chunky, molasses language, "Well, if Goran's going to destroy The Game, he has to be out of it, physically, so he doesn't get destroyed—"
"New York City," I breathed.
Dormouse shrugged, "Could be, there's no way to really tell unless I initiated some sort of illegal mapping search—"
…But there WAS some way to tell… This new Creator Magic I had was awesome. Even if my CMP was depleted, I should be able to use a spell…
“Ift Wilbafound,” I whispered—not postponing for Dormouse to catch onto my idea. I felt my magic hum and spark in my fingertips like a secret waiting to be released. It made my breath catch in my throat.
[System Alert: FIND THINGS HOPELESSLY LOST HOCUS POCUS Used]
[-1 HP, 58/80]
Pain prodded at my chest, and I waited breathlessly. Was something going to happen? It still felt weird that these spells worked. An electronic beep sounded as a system alert flashed forward.
[System Alert: GORAN, PRISONER 11 Is Not Hopelessly Lost. He’s Gone To The Place He Loves Most. You’ll Find Him Where His Heart Is.]
Where his heart is? After everything that’d happened, I wasn’t so sure he had one. …The system had given me a riddle instead of just answering the question?
"He'd only go to New York,” I insisted, “I'm sure of it. He said he was planning an escape for both of us there." Goran loved New York. He'd always insisted it was the best and worst place on the face of the Earth—the perfect place for us.
The nerd tossed around this information in his gaze like he was weighing gold to kidney beans, "Okay, so, then, if he's in New York, he'd need a computer to hack into The Game Code. Where can he find a computer and internet?"
"Our apartment?" I questioned.
But the kid shook his head 'no', "Too obvious. He'll know we're going to try to stop him. He'll be hiding—incognito."
I sighed, my head and feet feeling very heavy all of a sudden, "...So, that leaves only every Starbucks, McDonalds and library in the entire city...”
"Great," Dormouse quipped bitingly, "Can we get some fries while we're there at least?" He darted a smile at me, but I wasn’t particularly feeling in the mood for a joke.
"How do we get out of The Game?" I asked him, instead, gesturing around us at the dilapidated Temple and the smoke still rising from the battlefield. The balcony felt empty without the presence of the Charmus Tsung herd which had departed into the sky with Rainer and Joy atop them. "Last time, Callen had the portal ring."
We stared at each other, both coming to the same conclusion at the same time. Dormouse was the only one brave enough to actually verbalize it. He raised a hesitant eyebrow, "...Does he still have it?"
And we turned.
Towards Callen's body, laying rigid under the shadow of the Temple roof.
And I took the necessary, though leaden, steps towards his corpse. I tried not to look at the man's face, but it was inevitable. I couldn't avoid it—the truth of his death. It was literally staring me in the face.
His face.
Devoid of color.
Drained.
His lips sealed shut. His eyes, closed, below his crewcut, gray hair.
And his body...stiff and limp at the same time, like an empty vessel that no longer carried the life it used to. He looked...different without the spark of life in him... It kinda freaked me out more than I wanted to admit...
I held my breath and darted my hand forward, patting down his pockets, but the ring wasn’t in his body armor.
Not in his pants pocket.
It felt wrong to search him like this. ...Disrespectful.
I shook my head at Dormouse, feeling the optimism drain out of me.
"What do we do without the ring?" I asked tentatively, bracing myself for an answer I probably didn't want to hear.
The kid's lips zipped together in an annoyed line. "We hike," he stated quickly, "There's a Trading Portal just over the mountain. It's an old gas station. Well, I don't really know what it'll look like now that you fixed things..."
‘Fixed things.’ It didn't feel like I’d fixed things. It felt like Goran broke things, and I was following him around applying Band-Aids to gaping, bleeding wounds.
"You coming or not?" I hadn't realized Dormouse was so far in front of me, gesturing down a tile-floored, Temple hall.
And I nodded, taking a quick, last look at the sky over the battleground we'd held. ...But the pregnant clouds there were as gray and threatening as this whole situation, and I had no answers—not a single one. I thought I’d known what I was doing in playing this game. But, suddenly, it was like Goran had changed all the rules, and we weren’t winners anymore. We were all just struggling to survive…again.