Save Point 6

Rosabella

A high-pitched shriek rattles the surrounding trees.

I jump back as a savage scream bellows through the treetops, rustling the branches overhead like a hurricane gale—clanging them together like each one is a different silver utensil.

Completely shredding my eardrums.

I clap two hands over them protectively, my entire body wincing and wreathing painfully beneath me—can sound make your ears bleed?!

"Oh, she's feelin' feisty today!" Rainer howls gleefully at the sky, grinning ear to ear in a way that makes me want to punch him straight in the face.

...And I, suddenly, very much doubt that I want to see my first dragon, after all—

This is not a cute, Pokémon dragon...

It sounds...well, fucking terrifying.

"What does the dragon have to do with repairing your town?" I shout over the bawling screeching and the hiss of black smoke visible billowing over the tree line above us.

"Oh," Joy turns on her heel, a know-it-all finger raised to tap at her chin and an impish glint in her eyes, "Remember those things Callen said were stolen from us that you need to get? ...The dragon has them—"

"The dragon—?"

My pathetic, slurring question shatters into a million pieces as a deafening roar smashes the momentary silence.

I shudder.

The dragon??? She can't mean—

"That dragon," the girl clarifies with a devilish smirk.

I feel my face drain to ghost white. Dizziness crashes over my head.

She doesn't mean... She's joking... She has to be.

"Oh, you'll need this," Dormouse shoves his sword at me—hilt up—glancing down, swallowing nervously and stepping back under the shadow of the tree overhead in a rapid, embarrassed sequence.

I quickly note the tree he's sheltering under is the furthest one from all this ruckus.

Smart kid.

...Wait, he gave me a sword.

I stare at its red, leather-wrapped handle in my hand, feeling more than just the weight of the thing in my hand. Even just holding it, there is suddenly far more weight on my shoulders...

"I—" I sputter, "I don't even know how to to—" The words choke off.

"Well, you're gonna need to learn fast if you want us to rescue your Dad." Rainer shoves me forward.

Towards the beast.

...They've got to be kidding me.

Me?

Fight a—a DRAGON? In what world?

NOT in this one.

"A little help here?" I turn, searching desperately for Callen's aide.

He winces a little...probably at the desperation in my eyes. His steel-gray ones look a little unsure of the situation himself. "He's right, kid. Since that bastard nearly destroyed our world—err, town—" he corrects quickly—suspiciously—"the dragons have taken over. When the Game Makers died, the dragons stole the magic. We need you to get it back."

"Why can't you guys do this?" I hedge, my nervousness showing in my shaking words and, probably, hands, "You're...warriors." I look around as they blink at me—all clad in their body armor with swords on their belts, bows on their arms and knives, most likely, even in their socks.

How come they need me?

How come they suddenly look so...desperate?

"Not all the Game Makers died," Dormouse speaks quietly from where the shade of the huge tree over him darkens all but his chin.

I blink in his direction at his pale, moving lips. ...Not all of them died? Now, this is something I can work with!

"Okay!" I grasp his statement with both hands, breathlessly; I can't hide the excitement in my voice, "Okay, let's go find this last Game Maker! They can get you back what you need—"

Silence blankets the group as they look around awkwardly at each other.

...Why are they staring at me like that...???

"We already found her," Joy says sourly.

"Alright..." I start, "So, take me to her—"

"Kinda difficult to take you to yourself," Joy mutters snarkily, chomping on her gum.

...Your—

...Myself?

I'm pretty sure I turn solid green in the face.

My stomach twists into an unhealthy mess of almost-diarrhea—

"Oooh no, no, no," I wave my hands frantically in front of me, "You've got the wrong girl!"

"That's what you said about your Dad," Rainer growls under his breath, his eyes darkening, "and I'm pretty sure we nailed that one—"

"I'm not—" the words cut off as I sputter. My eyes are too wide. My fingers splay frantically between me and their ridiculous assumption, "I'm not whoever you're looking for. I can barely even lift this sword—"

I try to bring Dormouse's massive weapon up, but it's like lead in my hands.

Awkward.

Unwieldy.

I let it fall from my fingertips to the ground, clattering.

"She has a point; she's like a baby," Rainer spits, shaking his head in annoyance and grabbing for his own sword, "Maybe I should slay this beast and let her soak up the magic—"

"That's not how it works, and you know it," Callen raises his voice and a hand which stops the burly man reluctantly in his tracks, "You saw her tag when she entered. She's the last Game Maker... And she has to win this magic, not simply collect it, to make everything right again. She won't be strong enough to wield it if she doesn't earn it—"

"...I don't want to earn it," I whisper.

All of their eyes bounce to me.

But I just look at the ground.

At the grass.

Just springing up in little green shoots from the dirt...only to be crushed under our feet without any thought at all...

All the emotions I've been neglecting since I'd seen that lamp knocked over in the apartment and known something was terribly wrong well up inside. No tears, I promise myself. I'm too strong for tears.

"I don't want to be here," I continue, my voice a shaky, thin plea.

"I want you to take me back to normal New York and give me my Dad back—"

"Why don't you just ask for the moon while you're at it?" Rainer grumbles, stomping a foot, "We just told you about the maximum-security prison—"

"You know how crazy this all sounds—right?" I shout.

Suddenly I'm shouting?

Louder than the dragon who's still simpering and complaining further in the distance?

The acid smell of smoke chokes my nostrils.

"Do you see this place?!" I rage, "How is any of this even possible?!"

In one swift movement, Joy's hand reaches out.

And grabs the front of my t-shirt.

And wrenches me off the ground and into her face.

I scramble.

I kick.

But her snarling lips are still there.

"Listen, newbie," she snarls, her hot breath hitting my chin and cheeks; her eyes, fierce fire. "Whether you know it or not, you're probably partially responsible for all the bullshit that caused my world to fall into this blackish, hellish hole it is today. So, you can sit here, and you can whimper and cry like a little, forgotten baby-child. Or you can pick the sword hella up. Grow a spine or three. And decide you're gonna honor your agreement, save your Dad's life and, somehow, not convince us all that we made a huge mistake searching for your ass all these years. Which is it going to be?" She sets me back harshly on the ground, the force of it jolting to my knees.

Her words scare me as does the intenseness in her eyes.

What's worse is that she's right.

I've been panicking. I've been freaking out. ...But I haven't been thinking. These people are trying to help—a trade. I am good at trades. I can free Dad. I can be brave enough to free him if I can just get my act together.

I swallow.

I wet my lips.

And I look up at them all, my eyes darting everywhere but to theirs.

"How the heck am I supposed to get this magic when that—that thing is in here?" I ask.

About the dragon.

And they all smile.

Relieved?

...Except Joy. She folds her arms over her chest with a frown that, somehow, looks better than her smirk.

Rainer leans forward to pick up Dormouse's sword from the grass. He offers it to me gently, hilt up, "You have to kill it, of course."

I let out a nervous chuckle... That really isn't a chuckle at all.

"Sure there isn't any way around that part?" I breathe, hoping for more than a jest.

Joy huffs at me. Her eyes narrow, "After you kill the dragon, find its nest—a cave or low spot, somewhere hidden where it keeps its treasures. That's where you'll find the ball of magic. Cup your hands around it, and it'll absorb into you...as long as you earned it."

The last part makes my throat go dry.

She meant by killing the dragon, of course. I tuck a strand of hair anxiously behind one ear.

"Here, put these on," Callen fishes in a knapsack and moves forward with a set of black garments laid over his arm. He nudges them towards me to take.

"Why?" I snap—maybe I'm just feeling argumentative or like a little freedom in this agreement would be nice after everything?— "I'm fine in mine, really—"

"This is fire resistant and strong. Dragons can bite right through the fabric of your clothes, or their fire will likely just catch and run straight up on your body, burning you alive," Callen states bluntly.

I've never wanted to change faster.

I duck behind the thickest bush I can find, pulling on the body armor and breathing.

Deep.

And slow.

As slow as I can, anyway.

Into the holly-shaped, spiked leaves near my face. ...My heartbeat is racing.

The black bodysuit is stretchy and lightweight with armored bits over my chest, arms and legs. Black knee-high boots go with it. Had they known my size? Everything fits perfectly in a slightly creepy way. I tug my hair into a low ponytail...one can hardly fight a beast with it waving about in their eyes...

The bush rustles as I step out, feeling a little more than self-conscious as the group's stares instantly rake over my new outfit.

"She looks good," Dormouse nods reassuringly at me, and I smile.

Just a bit.

He kind of feels like the younger brother I never had.

"Rainer, you show her the ropes," Callen instructs.

And the hulking warrior steps forward, all the weapons on his belt jangling like there should be a row of skulls there instead.

"You've got your sword," he notes, pointing to where I'd attached Dormouse's weapon at my hip, "But, let's be real, your strength is so low you probably can't do much with that right now. Here." He throws me a knife so quickly that I almost drop it.

My fingers fumble with the black-taped handle.

"Use that. And don't drop it," he warns, "Dragons are faster than you think. Which is why you might want to get ready to run—"

"Run?" My throat catches in my throat.

"Dragons love everything shiny—"

Before I can stop him, Rainer holds up a hand over his head.

From between his fingers, a gold watch glints brilliantly in the sunlight.

And a thundering roar detonates over my ears.

And the ground shakes, pitching me face-forward into the grass.

And my heart glitches as the group scatters into the brush.

...Leaving me alone...

I'm in serious shit.