SAVE POINT 15

Rosabella

Apparently, when you went to bed at 6:30pm after being graciously kicked out of your Game Maker responsibilities and a ridiculously formal gathering by the guy you were crushing on, you woke up wide awake at 2am.

I sat up in the dark bedroom, letting the covers slide down beside me. Blackness made the huge windows look like mirrors, and the room was drenched in coal-colored shadows that kept creeping up on me the harder I tried to go back to sleep. The black pillars of the bedposts loomed above like sentries keeping silent watch, and the curtains looked lumpy and black—not grand like they did in the daytime. And I realized two things at once: 1) I wasn’t going back to bed and 2) the itch was too great.

I'd already tried ignoring it.

Tossing.

Turning.

But it wouldn't go away.

That itch to explore—to have the freedom to wander the halls of this huge place without anyone breathing down my neck. ...Also, I was kinda hungry; my stomach rumbled under the tank top I'd thrown on for bed. Was there a kitchen around here?

I slipped my feet into the gloriousness of the leopard-print slippers waiting for me at the foot of the bed and, secretly, thanked those good-for-nothing maids or whoever’d thought to put them there for me. Maybe they were good for something after all...

My feet felt the soft carpet even through the bottoms of the slippers and, then, the hardwood as I moved towards the door. The doorknob clicked, the door groaned and—

Just like that.

I was free.

The breath whooshed out of me like a whisper in the echoey hall as I made my way down it: careful steps, wandering eyes—taking in the white-painted, ornate ceilings and the hundreds of doors...one would seriously need a map to get around in this place. Where did it all go?

I caught sight of a silver cart piled high with stacked, white-China plates and made an educated guess. The kitchen was this way!

My steps quickened to a skip as I pushed through the swinging doors that most definitely were a kitchen entrance—err, back kitchen entrance, by the look of it. A commercial-sized cookhouse stretched before me—looking like I'd just, unknowingly, stumbled into the set of every cooking competition on TV. Holy—

—Cheese Whiz.

I stopped to take it in. Massive, stainless-steel appliances were inset in glossy, white countertops. The entire place was sparkling, smelling sharply of lemon cleaner which stung at my nose. I leaned forward and found that my outline nearly reflected back at me in the white tile floor it was so shiny. Damn! This place WAS a hotel. ...The question was, did this hotel have snacks? I was betting on 'yes'.

I crossed to the massive, built-in fridge with three, quick steps, and yanked open the colossal door, which probably weighed more than I did, with a grunt of effort.

[-1 HP, 66/89]

I squinted at lowered my HP. Was I still weak from the darkness? But I squinted into the bright light of the floor-to-ceiling refrigerator too. Food.

Fucking everywhere.

The clear shelves were packed with lettuce, fruit and platters of ham and sausage and...everything you could think of. Sauces and bottles lined the door. Two bobbing icons hovered in the confines: a shield and magnifying glass icon for an Examination Opportunity and a triangle icon with a turquoise diamond emblazed on it for a spell.

“Examine,” I whispered.

[System Object Examined… +1 XP, 972/1000]

[A Closer Look At The Contents of The Massive Fridge Tells You That There Is Literally Anything You Could Ever Want To Eat In Here. …Also, A Pepsi is on the Third Shelf Down. Your Favorite.]

I smiled at that. Aw, thanks, System. My fingers found and closed over the plastic, soda bottle and yanked it out, twisting the cap to hear the satisfying sizzle and crack. Caffeine at 2am? I wondered to myself. Screw it; I was sort of on vacation. I tilted the bottle back over my head with a ravenous gulp. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I reached for the spell icon.

Beep. It absorbed into my curious fingers.

[System Reward: Spell Acquired +10 XP, 982/1000]

[FREEZER BURNNNNN]

The name made me want to laugh. Maybe this would be better in battle than the lame L1 vacuuming and muffling spells? An Examination Opportunity appeared, bouncing over the spell name.

“Examine,” I said again.

[System Object Examined… +1 XP, 983/1000]

[A Spell Stat Sheet Pulls Up As You Get Closer. Read About What The Spell Does!]

SPELL

FREEZER BURNNNNN

REQUIRED CLASS, LEVEL & ABILITY FOR USE

GAME MAKER OR DRAGON L8, CM 3

Wish you could freeze time or an enemy coming at you in battle? Well, you can’t do the first, but, now, the second is possible. Cast this charm and watch it turn whoever it’s cast at to ice for a time lapse of 5 seconds. Trust me, they’ll feel the freezer burnnnnn afterwards! Receive an augment of +2 to your agility while they are under the cast so you can make your getaway!

How To Cast: Speak ‘Burnbaebae Burn’

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Augment Capacities

Learning Curve Required

HP Needed To Cast

+2 Agility

1 Use

2

Baddie Points

+5

Well, that actually seemed useful. Must be a L2 spell if it required 2 HP to cast. …Cool. Not that I’d be needing to use spells to fight anytime soon, but, maybe, I could freeze the maids if they got too hardcore flattering or something. God, that was a terrible thought, I mused to myself, What was wrong with me? I shut the fridge door and continued my mission in the spotless kitchen.

My fingers reached curiously for the next door. I found a walk-in pantry this time.

Oh my God.

My mouth fell open, because it was like the leftover gods had smiled on me. The shelving here was filled with cakes, pies, pastries... Wait another Examination Opportunity?

I shrugged my shoulders, manually reaching out to click the hovering shield and magnifying glass this time. More XP for me—

[System Object Examined… +1 XP, 984/1000]

[Leaning In, You Realize A Delicious Smell Is Wafting Out From Under The Heavy Glass Cover of A Cake Dish. Speaking For a Friend, But You Probably Want to Try One…]

Was that some sort of bizarre…hint from the system? I mean, I had to have one now. I reached to lift the heavy, glass cover sitting over the nearby plate, and the scent hit my nose: fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie scent.

Damn.

I knew what I wanted. I took two, squinting and turning the cookie to see that they were topped with iced, swirling letters reading 'Welcome Back GM'. Game Maker. They must have been from the party last night. ...I mean, that was me so...

I sunk my teeth into the chocolatey goodness, not caring how big of a bite I took since no one was watching—

[System Reward: Hand in The Cookie Jar Stealth Has Paid Off. One Stealth Promotion Will Be Added To Your Inventory For Future Use. +5 XP, 989/1000]

Whoa! It HAD been a system hint before! Awesome! Now, I could—

Buzz.

The lights flickered on, nearly blinding.

Shit.

I whipped around, attempting to hide the evidence of my cookie (cookies—let's be honest) behind my back.

It was the prune-faced woman who'd introduced me at the Welcome Back event—the one with the beehive hair. ...And she was not smiling. I immediately prayed that I didn't have chocolate smeared on my lips as her kitten heels clicked towards me on the tile.

"Typically," she hissed—the nasal quality of her voice dominating her already dominating form—"Game Makers are respectful of other people's schedules and allow their security detail rest at the proper hours."

I blinked at her, "—What?" I almost spat out half my cookie, but somehow swallowed it. What was this lady's deal—?!

"It's okay, it's okay," Mimi stepped out of a shadowy corner, her thin hands flailing in the air, "Really, it's fine. I was barely sleeping."

My eyes widened. Mimi’d been standing there this whole time? ...Watching me?

The wrinkled woman's eyes flew from my shocked face to the soda bottle in the hand I hadn't concealed. She huffed; the air around her disapproving face shuttered—

Then, distorted.

Not this again! I winced instantaneously, knowing what was next—that high pitched—

"It won't happen again," I blurted—before that God-awful sound could paralyze me.

[System Reward: You Stopped Shit Before It Started +5 XP, 994/1000]

And the air snapped back to normal like my eyes were just playing tricks on me, and nothing had ever happened. I was left blinking stupidly at the woman's withering form as she slid out of the door.

"What was that all about?" I grumbled to Mimi once the lady was safely out of earshot, "And are you...following me?" I didn't mean for my eyes to narrow or the words to come out with a defensive edge, but they definitely did.

The freckled girl squinted into my face, her lips drawing into a hidden grin, "It's kind of my job, remember?"

Oh, that 'Chief Protector of the Game Maker' bullshit. Right.

I rubbed at my head and eyes.

"I never asked for you to—" I started.

"I know," the girl's voice was kind, though interrupting, "Trust me. This is just formalized—"

"Horseshit," I filled in.

The girl grinned, nodding slightly. She spread her hands wide, shrugging again, "Just doing my job. I get pinged from the cameras when there's movement in your room so—"

"Cameras?!"—I'll admit it, I went a little berserk—"You have cameras in my bedroom??? No one told me?! What is wrong with you people—"

"It's for your—safety!" Mimi sputtered.

"Well, my safety can back the fuck off," I spat, shoving past the girl and taking an enormous second bite out of one of the chocolate chip cookies without caring about hiding it anymore.

"Go back to sleep," I told her, pushing out the kitchen door and calling over my shoulder, "I'm going to go somewhere where my every fart isn't being monitored."

I know.

Not very mature.

But I was tired. I was tired of being watched—being prized and gawked at and judged for a title I’d never wanted. I just needed some alone time...somewhere.

"Personal gym is the first door on your left—" Mimi shouted from the kitchen.

"I don't need your help!" I countered. But my eyes locked on the door she'd mentioned, and I pushed it open as the plastic smell of gym mats filled my nose. I saw the rows of swords pinned on the wall, the exercise machines and punching bag... And, maybe, I did need the girl, after all. …Maybe she already knew me better than I thought.

[Loading…45 Minutes Later…99%]

Rushing endorphins worked better at getting rid of these rushing thoughts than I'd imagined. This was a realization I came to as my fist thudded into the punching bag for the 400th time. My hair’d almost come out of the high ponytail I’d thrown it up in and snagged in sweaty strands around my chin and neck, but I didn't care.

I only cared about one thing.

Hitting.

Hard.

Getting all this freaking aggression out.

Somewhere where I couldn't hurt anyone—not even myself.

Thud.

My fist pounded the punching bag again, making it pitch with a satisfying bounce. Why was I so angry? Was it Goran? His death? This place? —Definitely this place. Security cameras in my bedroom? Bodyguards? Fancy, formal events? It was like they expected me to be this thing that—

Thud.

That I wasn’t—

Thud.

[System Reward: Damn! You Took ‘Hitting The Gym’ Seriously. You Just Earned an Ability Point! +1 Endurance, 12/20]

The pop-up made me stop short. Neat, I could do that? If I kept going all night, how would my stats look? How would my head look? These people could take their stupid titles and fucking expectations and flush them down the—

"Agh!" I threw all my weight into the punch.

Thwam!

Satisfying.

"Oh-okay. Looks like a bad time."

I whipped around. And Sparo grinned at me from where he'd ducked through the door, holding his hands up like he was on the guilty side of gunpoint.

I breathed heavily, wiping my hair out of my face with my arm. I guessed I looked too hot to handle, but so did he—in a different way, not that I was trying to notice. He wore pajama pants, but no shirt. I turned my face away, back towards the punching bag; I was way too overwhelmed and frustrated to throw this catching-feelings thing in the mix right now...

"Did Mimi send you?" I guessed, noticing the sleep still consuming his eyes.

I heard him chuckle behind my back though, "So, are you the psychic one or Prickgada?"

But I couldn't laugh at his joke. I couldn't muster much of any kind of emotion other than frustration in this moment.

"They have a camera in my room," I sputtered without even realizing I was about to, "Did you know that? Did you know that there's someone literally stalking me twenty-four seven for my protection? Goran's gone. I don't—I don't need...a replacement."

Tears burned at my eyes before I could stop them. I couldn't believe I was doing this again—falling apart and into a puddle of emotion. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I hold up? Why were my walls so easy to tear down?

But Sparo was close now.

He reached out a hand, putting it on my shoulder. And, suddenly, I was reminded of Callen. That was how Callen had always consoled me.

[System Searching MRPs To Select & Display Correct Memory…]

…I didn’t know if I wanted to see it…

I was back in Goran and my’s old apartment, inside the bathroom.

My hand swiveled the cold doorknob, and the door creaked open, displaying Callen's brow wrinkled in concern as he hunched over his knees on the side of the bed, pausing in rubbing his hands together. He looked...as troubled as I’d felt that day when he’d told me about my parents.

More pain stabbed at my throat in a lump. Oh God, could I face all this? I was just one person. How was I supposed to face all this?

Sparo smiled weakly.

Knowingly.

Like he got it.

"How about a sword fight?" he asked, "Winner takes all the cheesy fries in the galaxy."

And I grinned a little at that, biting back the emotions. Because I was glad he didn't want to talk about it. I needed someone not to talk about it. Just to be. With me. Just us, nothing else.

So I didn't have to stay in my thoughts.

And it was...nice that he was that guy who got it enough to help.

“Duel accepted,” I told him slowly as the corresponding system alert populated:

[System Alert: Duel Initiated.]

[System Alert: Please Select Your Weapon For The Duel.]