Isekai'd Into The Wrong World-Chapter 100: Ch - A Favour

Ryan stood still, contemplating.

After a few seconds, Ryan said, "I... I will do my best," he took in a deep breath. "But how will I tell your father you are... alright?"

For several seconds, James Blackwood said nothing. His gaze drifted back toward the arena, toward the place where his father still knelt beside his body.

Then suddenly, the boy’s eyes lit up.

"Tell him that I enjoyed the day he slipped away from the council meeting and took me to the river."

Ryan blinked. "What?"

James let out a small breath, something halfway between a laugh and a sigh.

"When I was twelve, my father took me fishing at a river south of our estate. We sat there the entire day and didn’t catch a single fish." He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I told him it was the most boring day of my life."

James’ expression softened as he looked back toward the arena.

"But it wasn’t," he said quietly. "It was the best day I ever had with him."

Ryan followed his gaze.

Rain continued to pour down on the arena.

"So tell him that," James continued. "Tell him... the fishing trip wasn’t a waste."

Ryan opened his mouth to respond.

But something about James’ body changed.

The edges of James Blackwood’s figure flickered faintly, like mist disturbed by a breeze.

Ryan frowned. "James... your hands."

James looked down at his hands. They were growing faint, the dark armour slowly turned translucent.

"I think... this means I’m leaving," James said quietly.

Ryan swallowed. "Already?"

James gave a small, tired smile.

"I suppose... I said what I needed to."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then James hesitated.

"There is... one more thing."

Ryan looked up.

"When I yielded... the knight, the one with a tree on his plate... he didn’t stop," James said quietly. "I remember raising my hand. Saying I yield."

His half-smile waned.

"But the mace kept coming."

Ryan’s eyebrows furrowed.

"I thought... maybe he just couldn’t hear me. Or maybe..." James shook his head faintly. "I don’t know."

His form flickered again, weaker now.

Then James looked directly into Ryan’s eyes.

"Don’t forget my brother, Ryan, keep him safe."

Ryan nodded.

"I won’t."

The young knight closed his eyes.

The rain passed straight through where he once stood. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

And like that, James Blackwood was gone.

The little girl stared at the empty air.

Her lip trembled.

Then she burst into tears.

"That’s not fair!" she sobbed. "Everyone gets to go but me!"

She stomped her foot in the muddy grass, making no impact to the grass.

"Why do I have to stay?! I don’t want to stay anymore!"

Ryan froze up, unsure what to say. Rain dripped from his hair and ran down his face. He’d faced danger, death, and the impossible—but this... this was his hardest trial yet.

He swallowed hard. "Hey... it’s okay," he said softly, crouching down to her level. "I... you aren’t alone... I’ll play with you. A lot. We’ll play every day if you want."

The girl sniffled, wiping at her wet cheeks. Her small body shook with sobs, but she looked up at him through tear-streaked hair.

"You... really mean that?" she whispered.

"I do," Ryan said gently. "I promise."

She gave a tiny, trembling nod. And then jumped into his arms with a hug.

"Okay, alright, off you come." Ryan peeled her hands off of his back, and plopped her onto the ground.

"Let’s get out of here, maybe I could even try introduce you to one of my friends?"

She nodded her head excitedly.

The two of them then slipped out from the hidden area behind the stands.

Ryan looked out onto the arena, which had emptied out quite a bit.

Ryan’s gaze fell onto the nobleman still cradling his son’s body, silent and grief-stricken.

Maybe it would be best to talk to him later, Ryan thought. It would be difficult to talk to him... with what has just happened... and with all these people around.

A sudden sound of splashing boots interrupted his thoughts.

"Ryan!"

Ryan turned to the source of the noise. Eleanor came running down the pathway that led to the arena, her hands held the hem of a cloak that plastered to her body protecting her body from the rain, her brown hair had turned black from the downpour.

And her expression... well... she was furious.

"What happened?!" she shouted over the rain, her eyes scanning the near-empty field. "I woke up and everyone had left without waking me! You idiots—"

Ryan eyes widened as Eleanor barreled toward him. He raised his arms instinctively, bracing himself to be hit.

"Wait—Eleanor!"

But Eleanor didn’t pause. She went straight for him, boots stamping through puddles, her voice echoing over the arena.

The little girl shrank back slightly, her eyes wide and confused.

"I—uh—I’ll explain—"

But Eleanor’s hurried pace carried her right up to him, and, the inevitable happens.

"You." She hit him lightly once, "Stupid." She hit him again. "IDIOT!" She jabbed him in the rib.

Eleanor let loose on Ryan. But unknowingly, she had set a little demon on herself.

The little girl leapt onto Eleanor’s back, clinging to her shoulders like a tiny, soaked monkey.

"Stop hurting my friend!" she shouted, fists swinging wildly. Each punch landed on Eleanor’s head. Ryan could hear the muffled thwack-thwack-thwack as her little hands collided with Eleanor.

Eleanor, of course, could not feel a thing, so she simply continued to stare, with rage, at Ryan while she awaited a response.

Instead... she got:

"Hahahahhaha." A maniacal laugh.

Ryan bent over, clutching his sides as he tried to keep quiet, but he just couldn’t.

Eleanor’s glare sharpened. "Ryan! Are you seriously laughing at me?!"

Ryan gasped between giggles. "No... No... It’s just she—she’s... HAHAHA."

Eleanor’s fists curled, and before Ryan could stop her, she punched him hard in the ribs.

"Ouch! Hey! Okay, okay!" Ryan yelped, hopping back and holding his side. "Calm down. I was just stabbed there! It’s still sore."

Eleanor’s expression shifted immediately from anger to concern. She stepped forward and pulled aside the torn fabric at his waist, examining the wound.

The skin was closed. Pale pink scar tissue remained. It was fresh but healed.

"It’s fine," she said, relieved. "The healer did good work—"

Then she punched him, hard, in the same spot.

"OW! OW! STOP!" Ryan doubled over.

"Stop laughing at me then!" Eleanor snapped.

"I’m not laughing at you!"

"Huh?" Eleanor’s hands went to her hips. "Then what else could you POSSIBLY be laughing at?!"

Ryan straightened slowly, still clutching his side.

How do I explain this without seeming... insane?

He glanced at the little girl, who was still clinging to Eleanor’s back, glaring at her with all the fury a nine-year-old ghost could muster.

"Okay," Ryan said carefully. "I promise I didn’t get hit on the head or anything like that... well, not too hard. Just believe me.... Okay...? There’s a little ghost girl on your shoulders right now."

Eleanor stared at him.

Rain poured between them.

"Okay," she said slowly. "I can’t tell if this is a joke, but if it isn’t, maybe we should go to the healers. Right now."

"I’m serious!" Ryan held up his hands. "Look—it’s this bracelet—"

He lifted his wrist, showing the black iron band.

"When I put it on, a few minutes ago, it felt extremely hot and then I could see... the dead. Ghosts!"

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. "Ryan—"

"I know how it sounds!" Ryan said quickly. "But I’m telling the truth. I can see them. And right now, there’s a little girl—probably nine years old, bare feet, black hair, soaked dress—sitting on your left shoulder."

The little girl waved her hand enthusiastically at Eleanor’s face.

Eleanor looked at Ryan’s wrist and then to his face. Searching his expression for signs of if he were pranking her.

"A dead girl," she repeated flatly.

"Yes."

"On my shoulder."

"Yes."

"Right now."

"YES."

Eleanor reached back over her shoulder, fingers sweeping through the space.

Her hands connected with the ghost.

The little girl squealed as she tumbled backward off Eleanor’s shoulders, landing in the mud with a splash.

Ryan burst out laughing again.

"What?" Eleanor demanded. "What happened?"

"You—" Ryan gasped between laughs. "You just knocked her off your back!"

The little girl sat up in the mud, looking utterly bewildered. "Hey! That’s not fair! I want to be able to hit her back!"

Eleanor stared at the empty space behind her, then at Ryan. "I knocked her off? But I didn’t feel anything."

"You can touch them," Ryan explained, trying to control his laughter. "You just can’t feel or see them. But they’re solid to us."

Eleanor slowly lowered her hands. "So I just... pushed a ghost. That I can’t see or feel."

"Exactly."

"And you watched me do it."

"Yes."

"Ryan... let’s just say I believe you, can we still just make sure your head is okay?"

Ryan shook his head. "No I’m okay! I just need to prove that she’s real..."

Ryan tilted his head down in thought.

A couple of awkward seconds later...

I’m a genius!

"Okay, watch this," Ryan said.

He turned to the little girl, who was still sitting in the mud looking offended.

"Can you try to push me over?" Ryan asked her.

The girl’s expression brightened immediately. "Really?!"

"Yeah, go ahead. Push me as hard as you can. From behind."

Eleanor stared at him. "Ryan, what are you—"

The little girl scrambled to her feet and circled behind Ryan. She planted both hands against his back and shoved with all her mighty strength.