Oz looked back at the man who touched his shoulder and frowned. He was right. Even if he could miraculously catch up to Angelica, wherever she went, there was no guarantee he could do anything more than what he did hours before. Oz let out a heavy sigh. "You're right. You're definitely right."

	Oz went back down to where he was laying and instead sat against the wall. Bobby looked pretty bad. How Oz got out of that whole conflict without serious injury was incredible. The men here deserved an explanation. That explanation was something Oz himself could not grasp. So he tried. "Bobby. Everyone. You all deserve to know what that light was." Oz started, looking down at his open palms. "I was so caught up in the fight I didn't know what it was either. I still don't. The only thing I can say is that it was from me." He kept staring at his palms, almost hoping that light would manifest itself again or some miracle would reveal how to control it to him.

	Nothing happened. Oz just kept staring at his hands for a long while, pondering. Zel didn't kill him because he showed that power, whatever it was. That madman called it ki. The only thing Oz had ever heard on the subject was by a stranger he happened to share a drink with at the tavern. "I guess we really have nothing to do but rest and go after it again in the morning." Oz muttered. He layed down on the hay, staring at the planks in the ceiling.