SAVE POINT 44
Reloading Uncertainty...100%
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Rosabella
A ruler?
...Did Goran just say that the Game Wardens need me so they can keep their job titles and their power which requires...my power? Me? A ruler?
I want to laugh at the absurdity. I want to laugh it off confidently so sure that Goran's lost his mind and stepped off the deep end here but—
But something hitches in me—doubt?
Definitely my breath.
...Because, for a minute, I wonder, could it be true??? I'm standing here in the pelting rain, looking at the man who turned my rosy world upside down and...wondering if he's telling me the truth? The guy who lied to me my whole life and, yet...I need to know.
Because the Game Wardens have a knack for only telling me bits of the puzzle at a time...and this seems like a pretty important piece to have left out up to this point...
"They want me to be a ruler?" I hiss under my breath, taking care to make sure the Game Wardens are a step out of earshot. A sideways glance at the anxious, milling group tells me they haven't heard.
But Goran has. His eyes lock on me like a vulture's—sniffing out my doubt?
As much as I don't like the man right now, I have to know if he's telling the truth—
"They don't want you to be a ruler. They need you to be," Goran leans forward, "They're power-hungry sons of bitches. Game Makers are rulers of The Game. Their ability to create makes them law. My brother was always trapped by responsibilities. It's why I had to do something—save you—give you a better life. His responsibilities to The Game were strangling the relationship he had with you. It was disgusting." The man's face grows harder, annoyed, under the dark war paint, "You'd think he'd have made more time for his absolutely perfect wife and daughter—the family I'd always wanted, and he just pushes it to the side—"
"Don't you dare talk about my dad," I growl.
Goran doesn't get to sit here and act noble; I don't want to hear his justified reasons for murder. What he did is irreconcilable; the Game Wardens were right to want to lock him up in prison but...
But is what he's saying...true?
Because, in my dream, it did look like my real dad was busy. He'd had to pass me off to Goran. ...Was he a ruler?
I can't be a ruler—I'm not that person. I'm perfectly content just living a simple life—living, in general, if I can get out alive from this terrible battle. I just want to restore order to The Game world—fix it of the darkness and, then, be on my way. I just want to do right by my parent's legacy but...
If they're expecting me to lead...
The very thought makes me want to run and hide in a closet somewhere.
No.
I'm not cut out for it.
They're wrong if they think they can trick me into it. I won't. I'll fix their world, but I won't—
"You understand now," Goran is shaking his head, his eyes leveling out like there's a conclusion hanging between us that we're both reaching together, "I've taught you since you were little: you can't trust strangers, only me. I always protect you, Rosie—"
"Will you cut it out?!" I snap. I stare at him.
Because something has snapped inside me, allowing me not to care that I'm yelling at the adult that practically raised me.
Because he's a liar. He can tell himself all day that he protected me, but he didn't!
Not when he killed my Dad.
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Not when he tried to imprison me in that underground bunker.
Not when he tried to kill Rainer.
He can fool himself, but he can no longer fool me. I'm putting my foot down. I refuse to lie to myself anymore about this man.
"You don't protect me," I spit, "This army behind you is not protecting me—"
"I can protect you," he counters, insistent and side-stepping my accusations, like typical, "I told you, I can get you and me safe back to New York, away from this shit, for a quiet life together—"
"Would you just stop talking?! ...For once!" The words burst out of me—out of my lips.
Just for a minute, I need to think. I need him to stop jabbering, so I can figure out what I want to do here—who's telling the truth. ...What lie I want to teeter on... Who can I trust more?
Myself.
The answer comes in sharply.
Like a thought.
And a prod. Is it that prophesy upgrade?
I can fully trust myself.
And it's a strange sort of realization, rushing in all at once. Because, for so long, I've been unsure of myself—my own direction. I've had to place my trust in others just to find my way out of the maze of everything and, yet...yet, I can't trust them.
I can't let them lie to me.
I can't take their word as truth till I know...till I know for sure. Till I feel it in my gut and I...
I know the way forward.
Me.
I can trust myself.
All of a sudden, I am a different person standing there. I stand taller. I hold my chin higher—maybe closer to the stance of the second Rosabella from my mind. And my boots are firmly planted in the ground here. Finally, I'm standing firmly on both feet. Finally, grounded in what I know to be true.
Myself.
How I feel about things.
And I'm not going to tiptoe anymore; I'm gonna lay it out bare. The wind kicks up around me, throwing more rain in my face, but I don't care.
Not anymore.
"You're the one that's full of shit," I say to Goran, quietly at first, "And I don't need your help. I don't need protecting. I've done more on my own here than I ever did back in New York and...and I did that all myself. By myself." Saying the words—actually saying them out loud—means more than I thought it would...it holds more weight.
Because Goran hears me.
He has to finally hear me in this moment.
And he does.
I watch the words soak into his face as his eyebrows raise and his mouth tightens and...well, I don't know how I expected him to react, but it doesn't look like he's going to agree with me...
"You're making the wrong choice here, Rosie," he warns, his voice hardening and wavering for the smallest moment—unless I imagined the waver?—"you don't want to do this."
"Yes, I do," I whisper.
Because he's right; I made a choice, and I won't back down now.
I killed a dragon.
I negotiated with two others. I beat an entire swarm of Darken. I got the creator magic.
And I'm not going to let the man who killed my father tell me what to do with it. I'm going to fix The Game world. And, if it turns out the Game Wardens want me to be their ruler, they can forget about it. It's like the Grand Dragon said. I'm the Game Maker. I make The Game. I make the rules. I make my life. And I'm not about to let someone else make those decisions for me.
"Don't make me do this, Rosie. That army just over that ridge will wipe you all out." Goran's tone sounds pleading, but his face is still granite hard.
"Let them try," I bark, taking a step back towards the Game Wardens while attempting not to notice the insane amount of warriors on the other bank. "You don't have to do anything; this is your choice. You can let us go. You stopped them from attacking. ...What does the army even want?"
"—Everything to stay the same as it's been since the death of the last Game Maker," Goran hisses, shuffling his feet on the floor of the balcony, "That's why we have to get out of here to keep you safe—"
And I grind my teeth.
Because there is no more 'we'.
And no more 'safe'.
"I wasn't safe the minute you killed my parents," I sputter, "You made that decision for me. They're all wrong. The Game can't stay the same way it's been since the death of the last Game Maker because that never happened. I'm the last Game Maker, and I'm alive. I'm the only one who can fix this world. If you take issue with it, you're on the wrong side of this chasm—"
"Argh!"
Goran's frustrated shout.
I fly backwards.
Because something hits me, shattering my core.
My ass slams into the ground. My spine, following it, as I blink upwards at the man, stunned. What hit me? A dark forcefield?
A wall of smoke-like blackness swirls between me and where Goran stands like an enormous coiling python. ...And... And it's trailing out of the man's fingertips.
Black magic?
I hear the swish of metal swords draw behind me as I scramble to my feet. I know it's Joy and Rainer, running to my aide.
"Oh, you're going down!" Joy bellows, her eyes sparking like her glinting sword as her pink hair swirls out around her.
But I hold up an arm to stop the girl's advance—to stop both of them.
"No," I say shortly, drawing up the creator magic within me and feeling it's satisfying hum reach down through my fingertips, "He's mine."