SAVE POINT 30
Rosabella
‘She will free us all.’ The yellow dragon's words echoed in my head—reverberating there with shock. ...But there was something else reverberating there too—something bubbling up to the surface: complete and utter…doubt.
“System, who is that dragon?” I whispered under my breath, “And how does she know my name?”
[System Understands Query…Loading Response…]
Think faster, System! I silently pleaded with it. The dragons were still staring, the yellow one’s nostrils flaring close.
[…Loading Response Double Time…]
[System Answer: The Dragon Is A Yellow Langune Borootlu 17 Named Aria. Would You Like To View The Dragon’s Stats?]
View the…um, yes, if I had a thousand years, hurry up!! I prodded it.
[System Unable To Understand Query…Recognizable Words = ‘Thousand Years’.]
[System Answer: Would You Like To Predict The Probability Of The Langune Borootlu’s Existence In A Thousand Years, Or Are You Asking About The History of The Species?]
[Probability of Existence] [History of Species]
“Seriously?!” I griped out loud, throwing my hands down.
Yes, seriously, Game Maker. You are destined to free our kind from this town.
Oh geez, the dragon thought I was talking to her. The yellow beast’s words echoed in my mind as the narrowed slits of her pink eyes stared at me. Shit.
“System, yes to the dragon stats,” I muttered, “Also, there’s no truth in what she’s saying about freeing the dragons, is there?” The last part was a disbelieving huff low enough under my breath that I hoped the dragons couldn’t hear.
[System Understands Query…Loading Response…]
[System Answer: The Yellow Langune Borootlu is a L17 Dragon With An Extremely Calming Presence. Their Scales Are Reflective Mirrors And Their Pink Eyes A Distinctive Feature. They Are One Of The Most Perceptive Beasts.
STRENGTHS: Ability to Calm Others And Heal Its Own Hit Points. Very Intuitive And Often Prophetic. WEAKNESSES: Not A Warrior Dragon; Rather Reclusive And Would Rather Disengage Than Fight. Defensive If Backed Into A Corner. Due To Its Large Size, It Is Not Particularly Graceful And Can Be Outwitted Through Agility In A Fight.]
NAME
YELLOW LANGUNE BOROOTLU
CLASS & LEVEL, SIZE
DRAGON 17, HUGE
HP
256/256
Armor Class
19/20
ABILITIES /20
Strength
+6
22
Agility
+2
14
Endurance
+7
25
Intelligence
+4
18
Awareness
+7
24
Presence
+2
15
CM
24
[System Answer: Also, Pertaining To Your Question, Yes, The Dragon’s Prophesy Is True. There Is An 60% Chance You Will Free Them All.]
—What? I stared at the last words floating in the air, now completely not caring about the stats before it. …Hold on there, it said an 60% chance? What about the other 40?! A wave of nausea crashed over my head and settled in my stomach. The system was saying…it was saying I was going to… The shock on my face must have been palpable because the yellow beast’s eyes roamed over my face, softening a bit. Smoke puffed out of her nostrils in a breathy exhale that shook her neck and chest behind the crisscrossed metal cage.
It is predicted. I will show you.
The Yellow Langune Borootlu insisted, her voice a clashing of low bells in between my ears.
My CM is disabled in this prison, but it’s all here… I can show you in a memory…
Oh great, so she had further proof? She shifted her huge weight, her tail curling upward and the massive sheets of her scales overlapping where her shoulders met her chest. Her large talon opened; knife-sharp claws gathered before flicking a ball of light towards me.
I stumbled backwards, my boots scuffing on the cobblestone floor, peering at the icon now rotating on the floor a foot in front of me. Wait…the symbol was a thought bubble incased in a circle…a Recollection Opportunity? My eyes flashed upward to the dragon’s. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joy squinting at the icon from beside me.
You want me to see this? I asked the dragon in my head, nodding at the object, as the corresponding system alert populated:
[Draconic Telepathy Used… +1 XP, 1156/1200]
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The Borootlu nodded.
The maroon dragon snorted in surprise. I heard his nasally voice penetrate my thoughts:
She has draconic telepathy? Maybe she IS the one.
Quiet, Ratadon!
The Yellow Borootlu shushed him.
Let the Game Maker concentrate.
I swallowed, my eyes flickering between the bickering dragons, Joy and the other watching prisoners. Well, here went nothing… I turned towards the spinning icon. “Recollect,” I commanded. The system beeped.
[Object Recollection In Progress… +700 MRP, 4570/6211]
[System Searching MRPs To Select & Display Correct Memory…]
The world rushed past my face, dumping me into the past…
The sound of dripping water was all around me while the realization of my own mass blotted out every other detail—a cave, was it a cave?
My yellow tail swished beneath me as the tendrils took me under and, then—
Then I was in the magic. And I saw a girl: small, human with brown hair. She looked lost, but her chin was set in determination. She raised her hands, reaching them out towards me. And the iron chains around my feet fell off. And wings filled my vision—dragon wings.
Happiness blossomed in my heart. Finally. Finally the justice came—the balancing of the karmic scalesssssss
Dklsjdklf—
Laksjdlfkljlksdlfkjlkjlkldj….
Lsldk—
I fell out of the dream-like memory, my knees jarring on the hard, cobblestone floor. I clutched at my temples where pain exploded in tiny, starburst fireworks like every nerve was lit by flame. Fuck that! Fuck the prophesy. There had to be some mistake. I was just here to get the root powder, so I could stop nearly dying every three minutes. This mission had started with that objective, and I was pretty sure it was going to end like that too. …Although it would be good to figure out why we were chained up in a dungeon so… What could it hurt to ask?
I massaged my forehead, willing my blearing, blinking eyes to focus on the yellow dragon still staring at me.
You see it now, Game Maker?
God, if everyone would just get out of my head! Her rumbling voice was giving me a migraine—
"Aria, why are they holding us all here?" I asked the beast.
The other two dragons sucked in a breath. Because I’d used her name? Surely they knew I’d asked the system about that. Chains scraped across the floor as the enormous, canary-colored dragon shifted to squat closer to the mesh separating them from the rest of the room.
They hold us here for processing.
Her eyes were huge and her voice, usually bright, was grim.
"Who’s holding us here for processing?" I sputtered. I felt my eyebrows crease over the bridge of my nose. What sort of people would chain others up?
"I thought the Sea People were friendly," Joy added, stepping forward and brushing a wave of pink bang out of her face with a perturbed huff. The glare in her eyes told me she'd be mowing down everyone who wasn't amicable if given the chance.
[ARIA, LANGUNE BOROOTLU, DRAGON 17: Draconic Telepathy Channel Opened. The Humans Can Hear You Now.]
They were. Friendly, I mean.
Aria squeaked sadly.
But, as the darkness cornered us and seeped behind our walls, the feeling of safety was lost, no matter how we dragons worked to keep everyone together. Paranoia set in—deep paranoia. Fear of the darkness. Fear of losing control. And our people turned on themselves. Turned on us.
Locked us up like cattle and left us here because they couldn't decide what to do with us.
Ratadon—the burgandy dragon—sneered.
And they test every outsider that wanders onto our shores before allowing them entrance.
Aria continued hollowly.
There's rewards for those turn in their neighbors, family and friends if they think they've been contaminated by darkness and instant death to those who don't pass.
"Pass?" I blurted, searching the beast's blinking eyes for some hint as to what she meant, "What kind of test is it?"
And, whether I wanted to admit it or not, my heartbeat was suddenly racing 100 miles an hour. I could barely breathe because—
Because I was infected by darkness.
It was in my lungs.
In my head and body. I’d taken it on to heal The Game world.
...But this wasn't like an Algebra test; there was no cheat sheet this time. How the fuck was I supposed to get out of instant death?
There was clamoring in the hall—the rustle of armor and thud of boots obviously tracing towards the door—
You'll see, small one.
Aria said kindly.
Small one. It was what Sparo called me. My eyes smarted with tears as I tried to swallow all the sadness coiling in my throat. God, I missed the man—his safe arms that wrapped around...his soothing voice and snarky remarks. It'd been torture to leave him behind, and, now, it was torture all over again to face this alone—face...whatever was, now, coming at us from behind that wood door. I threw a desperate look at Joy, but she just stared back, her thin lips drawn in a straight line.
The door burst open.
And there was an entire, black, body-armor-clad regimen.
There.
Just waiting for us.
"All of you. Wait to be released, and form a line," shouted the man in front, pointing a dark-gloved hand at us. His men scattered, bending over to address the locks on our chains with quick proficiency.
Snap.
Snap.
Snap.
Released. The heavy chain links fell to the hard floor. I slipped my feet and wrists out of the restraints, rubbing at the skin. Finally—
"Get behind me," Joy whispered, pulling me roughly behind her in line, "If anything happens..." Her eyes were wide, but she didn't finish the statement.
A guard stepped directly beside us. His lips enunciated in a deafening shout, "Move into the Questioning Room! You will be screened for darkness—"
I clapped both hands over my ears, "You don't have to shout—"
"Move!" he just screeched louder, shoving us forward and through the doorway. I nearly fell from his push but caught myself just in time. Carpet? I looked down, realizing that the cobblestone had transferred to threadbare, blue carpet. What was this place?
It looked like an old office that had been converted into some kind of makeshift courtroom. The walls were painted chipping, baby blue with white wainscot running halfway up the wall which had lost its gloss about ten years ago. A collection of discarded desks had been arranged in a formidable U-shape in the center of the cramped room, leaving very little space for traffic—really only enough room for our single file line to pass through as the guards waved us forward.
At the tip of the other end of the 'U' knelt a bound-and-gagged prisoner. A black-clad man stood over him, his sword glinting savagely in his right hand—only inches from the cowering man's neck. I watched beads of sweat run down the captive's grimy face. My God, what were we witnessing here? My stomach bunched into a knot. This was the part of the movies where I crunched myself into a tiny ball on the sofa and clamped my eyes closed. This was like one of the parts I could never force myself to watch—
But there was no buffer here—no button to click it off.
This was real; it was a man's life. And this was right in front of us. I realized with a sinking feeling that the bound man stood on a soiled part of the carpet. It was no longer blue. It was faded purple and red. It looked like it'd been stained with...
My mouth was even dry thinking the thought...
Blood.
"Let this man be a warning and advisement to all of you! Our city is a darkness-free safe zone. The all-knowing Code of The Game will judge your worthiness," proclaimed the assassin at the head of the room, raising his sword, "If you are found infected by the meter and this court, your fate is instant death." He raised his weapon higher, shouting "We cut out the darkness!"
"We cut out the darkness!" echoed the room of guards, bowing their heads.
And the sword came down with a swish.
And a scream ripped at my eardrums.
I couldn't not look. I couldn't ignore what was happening, even though everything in me wanted to slam my eyes closed. I couldn't. Because someone owed this man the dignity of watching his final breath.
Even as blood splattered.
And spilled, flowing from the hacked slices of his flesh.
As he crumpled.
[HILSADIA, PEASANT 8: -50 HP 0/145]
[LACKSBIRD SOLOMON, EXECUTIONER 17: System Reward: HILSADIA, PEASANT 8 Eliminated +15 XP, 1753/1800]
But the swordsman didn't stop.
Hacking.
Attacking.
Till the blob of the man was nothing more than a pile—a sickening pile of gore, blood and bones. It was a thousand times worse than seeing roadkill on the side of a street. My body lurched—revolted. And I couldn't hold it down. I vomited. All over my shoes. All over the back of Joy's pants.
[System Alert: You Just Royally Embarrassed Yourself In Public -30 Baddie Points, 650]
[System Alert: …And Created A Scene… -2 XP, 1154/1200]
Great…this was…terrible. …Just like I felt. But Joy didn't flinch at the scene or my vomiting. The Warrior within her stood firm and tall, and my body could only shutter as the line began to move forward. …All while the only thought I could fathom is: Don't let me cough. Please don't let me cough black blood and give myself away.
...What was this test we had to pass?
I watched a guard step forward, grabbing the first person in line by the arm and forcing them to stand inside a red tape box on the floor. The guards' fingers flew in the air bringing up Code. A red line began to scan their body. Blue numbers, lines and symbols loaded in the air—flashing like a progress bar as the scan finished, coursing over the woman's worried face. Then—
Beep.
A yellow star appeared, floating in the air.
[***SUBJECT PASSED***]
"She's clean," I heard one of the guards mumble. And they guided the relieved-looking woman out of the room, through a door on the far side.
I swallowed.
Joy was next.
The guard tried to grab her to shove the pink-haired girl into the spot, but she turned on him like a viper.
"You touch me, you'll regret it," she hissed. And he fell back.
She stepped forward to stand in the red tape box, her boot-falls heavy on the carpet. Even from here, I could see she was shaking. Her face was paler than normal but determined. The girl had been so infected with darkness that she’d almost turned Darken only a few days ago. Her MRP had been at 9. She was probably not sure if any of the darkness still lingered in her, I realized with a jolt. But there was nothing I could do to help.
Not now.
The guard started the test up; the Code hummed to life, a blue-tinted wall of numbers ticking and twitching in front of the pink-haired girl's face like a barrier I couldn't cross. I watched the red line reach her chest…
Her forehead...
I prayed.
I couldn't help it, I prayed.
Grand Dragon, if you can hear me, save us. Save us both, I pleaded with everything in me.
[Draconic Telepathy Used… +1 XP, 1155/1200]
Beep.
A star bobbed into view as the neon text popped up in the air:
[***SUBJECT PASSED***]
Oh my God. I felt like I was going to fall over from relief. I looked up and locked eyes with the girl as she blinked back tears. She was okay. She'd been worried, and she was okay.
"Next," a guard's hand yanked me forward as they towed Joy away.
It took everything in me not to fight them. This was okay. It was going to be okay. …But something deep within me knew I was just lying to myself.
I situated my toes at the edge of the red line.
I took a deep breath.
And I watched the red line.
Starting at my toes...