Travelling alongside Rigdraz had Oakley wondering. The taller man was consistently working to better his arcane abilities. He was so dedicated to the study and pursuit of greater knowledge that he had travelled to this kingdom in order to study with those he admired. He rarely let up on his ready for even a moment.

As they walked and talked, he still had his nose in one book or another. He had a thick notebook, filled with notes and lessons from the others books he was reading. Oakley was beginning to wonder if all Rigdraz had packed was books.

Oakley compared this to what Ari, Frederick’s wife, had said in the short conversation they’d shared. She claimed to not really needing to do any work for her gifts, saying that they were passed down in her family due to something he didn’t know enough about yet.

Oakley, however, had his bad luck and little else to his name. How could he hope to go toe to toe in a fight where he didn’t know the abilities of the people he was fighting? At least on Earth he knew that if someone was bigger than him, it was likely he would lose; if he was bigger than someone else, it was likely he would win.

In Charrunir, Oakley had to take into account the fact a smaller individual might instead be the equivalent of a heavyweight boxer, but through arcane means. He decided it was best to not start any fights at all.

Unfortunately, life had other plans for Oakley. He and Rigdraz were walking quietly when, out of nowhere, a group of five people appeared before them. Oakley was used to the phrase ‘out of nowhere’ meaning something happening suddenly. These people appeared out of thin air, a crackle of spiraling lightning- like a Catherine wheel- preceding their arrival.

Oakley instinctively jumped back, looking to Rigdraz for his reaction. Rigdraz didn’t appear phased at all by the display.

“Cheap trick,” he explained, while keeping his eyes trained on the five people. “No, these aren’t the dragon’s followers. Common bandits most likely.”

“We are not common bandits,” one of the people said indignantly.

“Well, we are bandits though,” another one argued back to his own ally.

“Point of the matter is,” the central one said loudly, cutting the other two off before they began to bicker further, “give us your valuables, or face a swift end.”

“Best do as they say,” Rigdraz sighed, “it’s clear we can’t do anything to stop them.”

“Shut it, lanky,” the central bandit said, though Oakley believed he understood what Rigdraz was implying.

As two of the bandits stepped up to Oakley, he smiled- hoping it was a more menacing smile than it felt- and showed off the sword, hanging by his side.

“What?” One of the bandits asked, looking nonplussed. “We have swords too, you know.”

“There’s no reason to do this,” Oakley said, putting one hand on his sword as he tried to slowly back away from the bandits.

“There’s reason enough,” one of the bandits said, “if you got gold on you.”

“Lucky for me, I don’t,” Oakley laughed nervously, prompting the bandits to slowly pull out their swords.

“We’ll be the judge of that,” the second bandit said.

Oakley’s nerves got the better of him again. He tried to pull his sword out to catch the bandits off guard, but instead the blade got caught in its sheath. Oakley was left grappling with his own blade as the first bandit closed in grab at him.

Instinct kicked in and Oakley tried to push the bandit away. Unfortunately, as Oakley had begun to fight back, he’d prompted the other bandits to begin harassing Rigdraz more- or Rigdraz had begun to fight back, too. Oakley didn’t see who’d started their own altercation first, but nevertheless- the fight had begun.

He was immediately on the back foot, ducking and dodging desperately to avoid the swings of the bandits’ swords. Oakley looked over to see two of the bandits struggling to restrain Rigdraz, who was already losing his portion of the fight.

Oakley sidestepped another swing and tried moving closer to try and punch at a bandit, but the other one sliced at the air close to him, forcing him back even more. These men were clearly content to kill him if he didn’t defend himself properly.

He didn’t have a lot of training in fighting, if any, and the most that he knew came from watching action movies. None of it was helpful in the moment. Oakley could feel his heartrate rising to the point where his face felt hot enough to crack open like it was being cooked in a kiln. He could feel the pressure building within as if he was holding his breath underwater for far too long.

Oakley didn’t know what was happening to himself. His skin felt itchy and bubbly, as if it wanted to pop open at any moment.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

While momentarily distracted by Oakley’s odd reactions, the bandits were back to attacking him, both of them taking swings at him as he was hunched over in pain. Both of the swords struck his bent-over back.

He felt the impact of the blades. He felt them cut through his coat and his shirt and pierce his skin. He didn’t feel them go any further, so he assumed they’d cut through something and he’d lost all feeling. Instead, he heard the bandits both cry out in shock.

Oakley, tentatively, lifted his head. He still felt itchy, but it was less a feeling of irritation now and was shifting closer to what he would imagine standing in a thunderstorm would feel like. Both of the bandits were backing up, clutching their swords and staring at him in fear. Oakley noticed that the swords were severely singed and blackened by something.

Something was clearly spooking them and it was linked to whatever was going on with him, but Oakley couldn’t bring his thoughts in line to piece things together. Instead, he saw his ally still being attacked. He had to help. He had to get through these two foes before he could. Oakley was connecting the dots and the first one said to deal with those attacking himself, so that he could save his friend from the ones attacking them.

Oakley tried to run at the bandits, but his body wasn’t listening to him. His feet wouldn’t move. It was as if he was bolted to the ground. Frustrated, he still swung in vain at them, despite them being far out of his reach.

The bandits didn’t try to jump back as Oakley swung, due to them already being far enough back to feel somewhat safe. Then the grass around their feet reached up and latched onto their legs, spiraling upwards to grab onto their torsos, restricting their arms, piling inside their mouths and pushing its way into anything it could get a grip on. Strands of grass impossibly long. Once both of the bandits were writhing around in pain, unable to escape, the grass pulled back down.

For some reason, Oakley expected the grass to pull them under the ground, as it yanked downwards. Instead, both bandits were crushed by the force of the grass, around and within them. The long grass receded from their remains as they lay, dead and disfigured upon the ground.

Oakley looked down and realized he had grass reaching up his own legs. It wasn’t moving like it had with the bandits so he redoubled his efforts to take his sword out and hack it off before he ended up like them.

Strangely, however, once Oakley realized the grass was there and thought about getting out of it- the grass pulled back on its own.

Do I… have magic? Oakley thought incredulously.

If any time was a good time to test it, now was. Oakley turned his attention to the three bandits attacking Rigdraz. His thoughts were becoming clearer by the second. He could still smell ozone and feel the fizzing potential beneath his skin.

Oakley strode towards the others, reaching a hand out. He didn’t know how to use the grass to attack, if he even had control of it. He’d attempted to attack the last two bandits, so- testing whether or not it would work again- he swung out at the air between them all.

Sure enough, the grass nearest each of the bandits rose up and lashed out at all three bandits. One hacked at it with his sword and started running as the other two- the ones that were restraining Rigdraz- were forced down to their knees and bundled up by the aggressive plants.

Oakley reached out and had the last bandit tripped and tied down by the grass, too. All three were under his control within seconds.

“Let them go,” Rigdraz said, trying to regain his breath from the attack. “We have them under our control. They won’t attempt anything further. We should let them go, now.”

“They were going to kill us,” Oakley said quietly. He could feel something else stirring within him. It wasn’t anger- he felt that already. It wasn’t fear either. No, Oakley was feeling… powerful.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Rigdraz shrugged, “two of their allies are dead. We don’t need to shed any more blood. Please, Oakley, release them.”

“And if they try attacking us again?” Oakley asked. “If they try ambushing us for revenge?”

“They won’t.”

“You know that, how exactly?” Oakley wasn’t used to feeling this in control. Not since he’d arrived in this odd world. It was intoxicating.

“We have to trust them,” Rigdraz said, trying and failing to catch Oakley’s eyeline.

“One.”

“One what?” Rigdraz asked.

“Pick one.” Oakley said.

“You don’t need to kill any more of them,” Rigdraz pleaded. “Not even one.”

“Who said you were choosing the one to die?”

“Oakley,” Rigdraz said, his tone becoming stern, “you need to snap out of this. You aren’t a killer and I’m not helping send more people to their deaths.”

“Then step back and watch.”

At that, Rigdraz stepped forward and slapped Oakley hard, his palm connecting with his jaw and rattling the shorter man’s head.

Instinctively, Oakley’s attention snapped up to stare daggers at Rigdraz and the grass rose up defensively. Rigdraz snapped his fingers and the grass began to burn away, but more took its place even as it turned to ash. The two men were standing, the eyes locked on each other, as each fought for control over the patch of ground between them. Eventually, however, the grass overcame the embers and started to rush up, like a green tidal wave, forcing Rigdraz to his knees before Oakley, too.

Oakley was entirely in control. Even the ally that he’d admired for his arcane ability barely ten minutes prior, was kneeling before him. At a thought, he could end four more lives at once.

Rigdraz tried to plead with Oakley, but the grass was threatening to push into his mouth, too. Something was stopping it, keeping his face relatively free of the invasive plant.

Why?

Why couldn’t Oakley take control of this moment? He was finally in a place of power. He finally had what he wanted. A means to level the playing field. What would Hariel do against Oakley now? Rigdraz was stopping him from killing these bandits. The bandits from getting to Hariel and Hariel from getting him back home to his family.

Liliana.

Erin.

They wouldn’t be able to look at him the same way if he did this. Instinctively, or accidentally, sure- but having these four already restrained? That would be on him.

But they wouldn’t know…

Oakley stumbled back, unsure where that voice came from. Like a whisper in his ear, carried along the breeze.

His shock seemed to pull him out of whatever power trip he was having and the grass fell away from the four people.

Unfortunately, as only Rigdraz had been kept safe from the grass entering his mouth and choking him- he was the only one to stand once more.

The three bandits that had been restrained, must have run out of breath while he deliberated saving them. In his hesitation, he’d failed them anyway.

Oakley looked around, suddenly thinking completely clearly once more, at the five dead men he had killed.