Control Comes from Within

My screaming eventually gave way to two lonely tears slowly falling from the corners of my eyes, and I cried. I figured my circumstances allowed for it.

For a good two minutes, I only felt a slight wetness run down my cheeks. I silently wept for a bit until I truly thought about all the emotions I was feeling.

Anger at that asshole couple that basically killed me. Fear of this world and how…different it felt to be here. The confusion at the unanswered questions that sat at the forefront of my thoughts. The excitement at being able to learn goddamned magic. The equal parts relief and trepidation at finding myself alone once again. The apathy that I had once enveloped myself in was rapidly melting away, and I had no idea what would follow in its wake.

I sat there on the beach while the sun reached its zenith, the merciless heat relentlessly assaulting me, yet another motivator for me to get moving.

Probably best to get a move on, I thought to myself, but first let’s see what the old man who was definitely not a god decided to throw my way. I opened the thin leathery strip that tied the rucksack closed, and took out all the contents to inspect them.

A small but familiar pouch containing various amounts of each coin, with the exception of the orb, and four essence stones. A small sheathed dagger, barely the length of my hand, with a slightly curved blade made of some kind of bone. A hooded full-length black robe that had a sash around the waist to tie it closed. A waterskin filled to the brim with what I assumed was clean drinking water, based on a preliminary sip. That was it. That was all I had to my name.

Well, it could be worse. That I have to rely on charity irks me a bit, but it can’t be helped. What other options are there?

I put the robe on, thinking it would help me look less out of place by covering up my very American looking hoodie, jeans and t-shirt, then threw everything else back into the rucksack and tied it closed, setting the bag so it hung on my back and the strap laid on my shoulder, crossing my chest diagonally. It wasn’t a perfect fit, jostling slightly as I walked back and forth testing it out, but it was the best I would get.

“Whew, well, I’m not gonna get food staying here. It’s unlikely I can get any fish this close to shore,” I said to myself out loud, ignoring my lack of knowledge about marine wildlife or fishing.

Getting food was my most immediate concern, and hence the most important factor in getting me up and moving.

Damn that Khime for being right.

I slowly made my way around the beach, looking for a road or signs of civilization; failing that, at least a river or stream where people or a settlement would most likely be nearby. I was walking along the coast thinking it wouldn’t be long until I hit a port town or maybe a fishing village, but the terrain killed that idea when it changed abruptly from soft sands to high, impassable cliffs. I doubted anyone could make that climb, rocky and steep as it was. So I traveled inland, the sea at my back.

The sands of the beach gradually gave way to grassy shrubs, brambly bushes and ankle-high grass. Solitary trees roughly twice my height dotted the landscape, appearing every so often.

While I was reluctant to get rid of any of my possessions, I was tempted by the heat into letting go of my hoodie. I was sweating from the muggy and humid climate, and rolled sleeves were only capable of doing so much. Having to wipe the sweat dripping down my forehead every few seconds was becoming increasingly annoying, giving me flashbacks of having to do the same thing in summer camps as a child.

If I continued to lose water at this pace, forget starving, I would likely die of dehydration before then, even taking into account the water I had. If I couldn’t find a settlement soon, I would have to sleep outdoors, which I wasn’t at all confident in surviving. Khime mentioned the voranders were a global threat, but who knows what else he didn’t mention that was also capable of tearing me to shreds?

With a slightly increased pace, I continued walking for a few hours until I finally saw something that made me tear up for a second time that day: a dirt path and what looked like wheeled tracks to the side.

Finally! All that’s left to do is to follow this path, get a room at whatever passes for a motel here, then head to an academy. Or is it the academy? Khime wasn’t too specific about that part. To be fair, I was needling him with questions for hours. Whatever, anyways, the goal is in sight. Only question now is left or right? Looks like the infamous decision-making strategy ‘heads or tails’ will be making its debut in this world.

I untied my rucksack to get a coin from the leather pouch, but I was interrupted by a booming voice.

“HOLD THEM OFF, MEN! BOWMEN, FIRE AT WILL! GHOSH, GET OFF YOUR ASS AND KILL THESE ANIMALS!”

The hand that was reaching for a coin went towards the bone dagger instead. Just in case. I cautiously got my things in order, and headed towards the rising sounds of battle. My only intention was to observe, and maybe tag along with them to their destination if they survived the fight. By the sounds of it, men were fighting a group of animals and holding their own. I sure as shit wasn’t ready for combat, and what the hell could I possibly bring to that fight that they weren’t capable of doing themselves? I was, yet again, unsure of what to do.

On one hand, my stupid idiotic conscience and morality wouldn’t let me walk away from a situation where my intervention could play a decisive role. Also, traveling with these guys, if I could somehow manage to let me come with them, would let me journey in relative safety to a decent settlement.

On the other hand, I was alone on an alien planet with too many things that could mark me as an outsider. What if I said the wrong thing or asked a basic question that even a child would know the answer to? What if my mannerisms or clothes were somehow instantly identifiable as wrong, and they attacked me? There were too many doubts for me to be sure of my safety if I just went up and approached them.

As the sounds of combat became increasingly louder, I got closer and closer to the battleground until I finally laid eyes on it. I hid behind a cluster of bushes, crouching down to minimize the chances of being seen. However I approached them, I didn’t want to do it during or immediately after they had been attacked. They’d probably assume the worst, or at least I would in that situation.

I saw four large wagons, each pulled by some kind of bovine animal. The wagons were surrounded on all sides by men in armor who were killing giant rats at least 2 feet tall. Archers stood behind the front-line warriors, shooting down the rats whenever they saw an opening.

Finally, I saw an actual, honest-to-god mage shooting mini boulders at the rats, leaving tiny craters and crevices filled with crushed rat viscera everywhere. The battle seemed just about over as far as I could tell, when –

“YOU, OVER THERE, STAND UP!” That booming voice I had heard earlier was now shouting at someone. Most likely one of his men who slacked off during the fight. I assumed they were hired guards protecting the group of wagons, and I was a little curious what the procedure was for insubordin–

“YOU IN THE BLACK ROBE, BEHIND THE BUSH, SHOW YOURSELF NOW OR I ORDER MY MEN TO ATTACK!”

Shit, this isn’t how I wanted this to play out. Though at least I know that the translation spell is working.

I slowly got up from my vantage point behind some bushes, arms raised over my head in what I really hoped was the universal gesture of surrender, then very, very, slowly walked towards the armored guards.The guards were going around the field, finishing off any wounded rats, and burning the corpses that remained.

They all had vaguely European features, but I took it as a good sign that I wasn’t immediately cut down based purely on my skin color, which was much darker than theirs.

One of them, extremely tall and wielding an impressive spear along with bloodied armor, approached me. If I had to guess, this was the owner of the booming voice and the leader of the guards. He was accompanied by three of his men, their weapons free of their sheaths, ready to impale me at a moment’s notice. Thankfully for my eardrums, the leader wasn’t as loud now that he was close up.

“So. Who are you, and what are you doing here, kid?” The leader asked me, his baritone voice somewhat reminding me of my roided-up murderer. Hopefully, this guy would be more amenable to peaceful dialogue than that muscled freak.

“I was just down the path when I heard you yelling and decided to see if I could help. But by the time I got here, everything was pretty much over. Then I wanted to see if I could ask for directions to the closest city, but I thought you might not be too…receptive…to someone who just showed up right after a battle. So, I was going to leave, and that’s when you called me out. So…yeah. That’s it,” I said somewhat lamely.

I was trying to paint myself in a positive light, and everything I said was true. Shit, what if that mage from before had some truth magic or some spell like that? Until I knew more about the capabilities of magic, I was definitely going to be more measured in my words and actions. I could also admit to myself that I was in dire need of safety, and these people seemed decent enough, at least when it came to combat, if not character.

“Drop your bag, kid.”

I slowly took off my rucksack, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t steal any of my meager possessions. One of the leader’s men went through it, listing out the contents for the leader to hear.

“Waterskin, halfway full.” I was trying to preserve my water, just sipping from it when the heat got to be too much. Which was the entire day.

“Coin purse, enough to get by for a few days. Four stones, as well. A bone knife, tier 3 at most. That’s it, Captain.”

The man finished his report, leaving everything on the ground, and returned to his former position. The leader, pinching the bridge of his nose, sighed loudly. “Either an innocent, or the shittiest excuse for a bandit I’ve ever seen. Alright kid, looks like you’re coming with us. Mother knows I can’t handle a dead kid on my conscience. Grab your stuff.” The men followed their leader back to the wagons, sheathing their weapons as they did so.

I grabbed my things, threw them in my rucksack, then jogged a bit to catch up to them. Walking slightly behind them, I asked the leader, “What do you mean, dead kid? I’m –”

He shook his head and responded without turning around or stopping, “Kid, how are you still alive if you’re this stupid? We’re right at the border of a tier four and a tier three region. Of course there’s things that could kill you, weak as you are, when they’re drawn to the higher density. Anything in their way will get torn to pieces. And that definitely includes you. Oh yeah, you never did tell me your name, kid.”

I could hear the unspoken question.

“It’s…. Rhaaj.”

Ever since I could remember, I’ve been sick and tired of telling everyone how to pronounce my name. Every new teacher that took attendance for the first time mangled my name in their own unique way. Seriously, it’s just ‘raw’ and then the ‘juh’ sound, like the first part of Roger. Or dodge, but with an ‘r’ in front of it. I swear, mothers can be a special kind of evil sometimes, naming their children whatever they want without any thought to the kid’s feelings.

Although I’d gladly take my name over something like Porsche or Rubella or something with numbers in it.

“Seriously? Your mother named you after a beast of burden?” The leader asked incredulously, pointing to the animals pulling the wagons. Laughter burst out of the mouths of the guards around him, as they loudly speculated on the identity of my father and what role he played in my naming.

Maybe I should have chosen a new name for myself to go with this new world.