SAVE POINT 37
Loading an Interesting Turn of Events...100%
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Rosabella
Dormouse and I are back in The Game, but what started as such a carefree jaunt has layered the kid's face in defeated ash.
"Hey," I shake his limp shoulder, "It was just a side mission. It wasn't real."
But his smile isn't as elastic as it usually is. He shrugs half-heartedly, tendrils of his dark hair falling into his eyes as he ducks a bashful head again, "I fucking hate simulations anyway—"
"Guys, it's all clear!" Callen rounds the corner of the overgrown temple with Rainer and Joy, waving an arm in the air, towards the two of us, "Looks like the place has been uninhabited for a while now and, luckily, no squatters."
Rainer adjusts the bow on his back while Joy runs a gloved hand through her long hair. "What's with Dorkus?" the pink-haired girl's pursed lips interrupt with a scowl and a sideways glace at the sullen boy, "He looks like he got run over by an eighteen-wheeler—"
"You know it'd be mega helpful in this moment if someone would get my name right," Dormouse sulks.
I walk past Joy, nudging her slightly in the arm as I do. "Be nice to him," I whisper, "Long story."
Her eyes narrow at me, but she doesn't push the kid any further.
"So...this temple..." I circle my arms around me at the looming, golden building behind us, trying to take the spotlight off Dormouse for a second.
"You should see the view from the inside," Rainer chimes in, his deep voice echoing in the hallway he's just ducked into. He waves me over.
I trot his way, trying to ignore the unease churning in my stomach as I dodge the falling ivy covering the opening. My boots meet with polished, though grimy, floors. I don't know what significance this building holds for the group or the Gamers, but I do know that they want me to do the magic here.
The magic that's supposed to fix their world.
...And saying I'm nervous about it is putting it lightly...
I swallow all the dryness in my throat and try to still my swirling head as my eyes adjust to the dim hallway.
This place is gorgeous—or once was, at any rate. Even in its fallen state of decay and disrepair, the intricate carvings in the walls stand out like this was once royalty among buildings. Numerous columns and archways stretch overhead, holding an equally etched and beautiful tray ceiling, and the weavings of turquoise and white tile underfoot are like a story crafted in artwork beneath the dusty toes of my boots. I almost feel bad standing on it. Gold shines through in little, winking bits overhead like stars of what was probably its former, streaming glory.
"The real show is over here," Rainer calls from somewhere up ahead. I weave around the plethora of carved columns, trying to find him.
"Here," the burly warrior's arms spread wide as his voice rings in the labyrinth.
And my jaw...drops.
Open.
Like the wall.
Seriously.
The back wall of an expansive room which appears to once have included three enormous, rounded fountains—their basins now dry and stained with dirt and leaves—opens with a giant arch to an extensive, outside balcony. ...Where the world drops off like a cliff except for the landing of three bridges which cross the chasm, connecting the balcony to the ridge on the horizon.
Enormous bridges, coming to a point together at the temple.
"There used to be railings but..." Rainer trails off as I inch my feet closer to the edge, peering over and only finding ragged rocks and darkness there, beyond the ruins of a fallen barrier.
"This temple is called Meherna," Callen steps out of the shadows, his voice quickly informing me and filling in all the questions probably in my eyes, "It means 'The Meeting of the Hearts'. It's the one neutral place in The Game—without alliance. We're standing at the very center of our land where North, South, East and West meet. This was always a place of discussion and treaty. It's sacred ground. They say any magic done here his magnified."
"So, you think my creator magic will magnify here too?" I ask tentatively.
My voice shakes.
Am I ready for this? Can anyone ever be ready for this? To test their unconfirmed skills in the deep end? To dive out of their comfort zone in the hopes greatness will flow out, bring them and those they care about bobbing to the top like a sea? ...Maybe not..
Callen seems to sense my trepidation. He places a solid hand on my shoulder, his eyes warm and level like the steadiness I can't seem to find in this moment—like freaking dry land in the storm of my mind. "You can do this, Rosabella."
And I want to believe him; I really do.
I turn and find all the Game Wardens shuffling their feet forward to circle to a halt around me—not creepily, just...expectantly.
And I'm in the center of the circle.
I'm what they're all here for.
...Why they've been searching all these years.
This is the moment that has brought them hope—hope that their world can be fixed.
And, now, it's time to test that theory.
God help me.
I take a huge breath, trying a casual smile and shrug of my shoulders, but failing. "It's time, isn't it?" I ask—more of a squeak.
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Callen nods.
And, suddenly, an empty feeling overwhelms me—an alone feeling.
Because they're all looking at me.
This is only something I can do.
And Sparo isn't here this time to guide me through it.
I'm...alone...
I close my eyes. I try to calm my rocketing heartbeat as I drop into my mind, attempting to find a quiet thread there. I can do this.
> You're not alone, child.
A voice?
I scrunch my eyes up, attempting to focus on the swirling, meshing colors that have finally materialized. And it, strangely, feels familiar reaching through the levels of magic—moving through the ocean of swaying colors around me and honing in on a pulsing orb of light at the center...
...Like a song that I've sung a hundred times.
...Or a story... Why does it feel like a story I've told?
I know this place.
> I certainly hope so. Welcome home, dear one.
The voice again, neither female or male, but, strangely, both. In my mind...it can—hear me? My thoughts? Like the dragons...
Who are you? I ask it, demanding.
The voice chuckles a bit—a slow, drawl, like it's smiling.
> The better question is: who are YOU, dearest? The answer lies in that orb.
The orb glowing right in front of my face. It's a blinding light, bobbing up and down in front of my eyes, beckoning—like the creator magic but...
Different.
It feels like...
Strength.
Courage.
Resiliency.
Like holding my chin high.
Like...determination 65.
> Yes, that's it. Your understanding is keen.
The voice purrs.
> That is your soul, beloved. And I am the Grand Dragon.
Shock rolls over me. The Grand Dragon? The dragon from the tale Sparo told me about the very creation of The Game world?
> The same.
The dragon answers breezily.
> And you...
The dragon continues.
> Are Game Maker Rosabella.
There's such strength in the way the beast says my name.
> And it is time you take your rightful place as the last Game Maker, Rosabella.
Frustration and desperation tumble over me at the same time in a wave I'd rather hide my head under than face. I'm trying! I protest, clenching my teeth and fists, while attempting to enlarge the glowing sphere in front of me. I watch it spin like a globe, showing burned holes in it—dark. Whenever I try to grab a handful of the magic there, it burns me. The magic isn't working! I complain.
> Those who surround you influence your magic. Negative skill levels are not amenable for magic. Dig out the darkness, and there will be light enough for all in this world.
I don't know how!
I'm biting back tears now. Surrounded by this swirling, opulent magic, and I'm reduced to tears? It feels silly...childish...
> There is little time, child.
The Grand Dragon's voice sounds patient, but warning.
So, show me what to do! I pout, throwing my hands down at my side. Just—show me! I want to fix this! No one ever taught me—
> Goran taught you. Remember.. 'Have you ever been in a dragon's mouth, Rosie?'
The Grand Dragon's voice mixes and suddenly becomes Goran's. I flinch at the sound.
He murdered my Mom and Dad! I all but scream in my head.
> Yes, and you murdered one of my kind.
I swallow, feeling a lump growing there in my throat. I didn't know.
> And now you do.
The voice is kind.
Sparo's not here to do the magic with me, I tell it. Before, he had me put my hand in his mouth, and it would augment it—combine our strength and magic, somehow. I'm alone in this now...
> You're not alone.
The Grand Dragon repeats, and I realize that that's something it said earlier.
I don't understand. I feel like I'm floundering, losing myself in the nauseating, pulsing waves of magic surrounding me. The colors are so bright that they hurt my eyes—like a million pieces of striped candy, swirling around my head like I'm in a bad commercial.
> Close your eyes, child. Focus within you. I am a dragon—the Grand Dragon. First Creator. I am always with you when you create too. The magic connects us both. Breathe in.
I do. I can't help it; it feels natural. Finally, something feels easy and natural.
> You are in the dragon's mouth. Whenever you create. Whenever you try to do something bigger than yourself. Whenever you step into the flames with a brave face. You are in the dragon's mouth as you step into me—as you step into yourself for we are one; you are a Creator, a Game Maker. You make your game. And your magic is augmented here, in this space. You become bigger than you when you face your fears. When you put your hands on jagged teeth for the sake of something greater. I am proud of you, child, but there is very little time. Move quickly, dear. Move through the fear, and you will taste victory.
And I blink my eyes open.
As an electric charge rolls through my limbs, strengthening me.
The Grand Dragon's words.
The Grand Dragon's intention—magic? My magic? They are too intwined to tell apart.
I feel it coursing through my veins—swifter and more powerful than the life of blood. And my eyes lock suddenly on Rainer, across from me. And my prophesy skills show me a huge, blurry, black patch over his heart—like a mournful raincloud.
The dragon had said that those around me influence my magic. They'd said to cut out any negative skill levels, and light would come—my creator magic! I look around and quickly realize there aren't any other black spots on the other Game Wardens in the group. Rainer is the black spot. I have to uplevel Rainer...
...And I suddenly know what I have to do.
I've already been given the tools! I'd done it with Joy before—lessened the darkness on her! The dragon was right! I DO know how to do this!
I whip around, breathless, "Dormouse!"
The kid's glum, pale face barely looks up.
"I know you're dealing with everything but"—I'm so excited I can barely get the words out—"Can you patch Rainer and I into a side mission? Quick, can you do it quick?"
Blubbering excuses drool out of the kid's mouth, "I—yeah, I mean, I can—"
"Good," I snap, already spinning towards Rainer and clamping both hands down on the warrior's arm. He looks at me with questions written underneath his furry eyebrows, but I have more than he does. Why is the darkness affecting him so much? At any rate, I'm about to find out.
"Is this really necessary—" Rainer protests.
"Now, Dormouse, the code!" I prod.
"Okay, okay! Pushy much?" he brushes a wave of dark hair out of his face as his fingers fly mid-air.
"The dragon said we don't have much time," I explain as I feel his code integrating and my surroundings shifting.
"What dragon?" he calls.
It's the last thing I hear before I'm standing in Rainer's world.