Ezo shivered in the evening chill as he trudged up the muddy hill. Rain poured around him and he was wet all the way through. His good coat which he’d treated against the rain could only do so much. Water dripped down his neck and back and even his boots had gotten soggy. Sure, he could use magic to repel the water, but there was a limit to any man’s strength and slogging through the mud took most of his attention.

There were days when he wished he’d bought himself a horse, but he wasn’t a horseman, and he preferred his own two feet to a creature that had its own opinions.

He reached the inn and opened the door but lost his grip as the wind caught it and slammed it shut. The wind roared even louder than the bloated river beside the inn and Ezo looked uneasily at it as he tried the door once more.

Light spilled across the wet streets as he managed to get a decent grip on the handle this time. He rushed inside and swept off the hood that had barely managed to keep the rain from his face. Finally, away from the downpour, he closed his eyes and imagined the water pulling away from his clothes and sliding under the door.

He had to concentrate harder when he worked with the element of water, but he was still proficient. Earth was his natural calling, but Uncle Jacob had been adamant that a good elementalist should never neglect any element. Ezo learned it wasn’t a popular belief though. When he’d gone to Malla City, the elementalists had looked aghast that he focused on more than one.

Idiots, the bunch of them. No wonder Jacob had stayed in the village whenever he could.

The water left his clothes and his hair dried, but when he moved the dried mud was still caked on his clothes and the fabric was stiff. He needed to get a room and change before he thought about food. And his stomach was reminding him - loudly - that he hadn’t eaten much as he walked through the rain all day.

“Can I get a room?” he asked as he looked towards the bar.

He should have paid attention before he started to do magic, but he was still learning. Not every village took to elementalists as his own had. The inn was mostly empty, except for a few travelers, the keeper, and the maids. All eyes were on him, and silence settled uneasily around the room.

“Can I get a room to clean up?” He stepped towards the bar and smiled. “And something to eat when I finish wouldn’t be remiss.”

“You got coin?” The woman wiped her hands on her apron and bit her lower lip.

“Of course. How could I pay for the room if I didn’t have coin?”

“Somes come through thinking they have a right. Elementalists. Soldiers.”

A snort rang out from one corner of the room, but Ezo ignored it in favor of smiling again. “And they would be wrong to do so.” He dug under the jacket and vest and the extra layers of fabric he wore until he had a handful of coins. He placed them on the bar for her. “Which way?”

“Maggie, show him.”

The maid came forward and eyed him up and down before she led him to the back of the inn where steps took them up to the guest rooms. She stopped in front of the last door on the right and opened it for him. He’d seen it before. They placed him as far away from others as they could.

Uncle Jacob taught him how to use the elements and the role of elementalists in the world. What he didn’t teach was how the world actually worked. People revered elementalists, or they hated elementalists, but people wanted to be elementalists. They held power, and people wanted what they didn’t have and feared it in equal measure.

“Thank you,” he said to the maid, slipping another coin to her for the trouble. He didn’t have a lot, but sometimes it was worth the coin to leave a good impression.

She took the coin but narrowed her eyes when she looked at it. She turned away without a word and left him outside his room. He shook his head, then stepped into the room.

It was clean and warm, and most importantly, dry. There was a lumpy-looking bed in the corner and a table with two chairs pulled up beside it. A stand next to the door held a basin, water pitcher, and mirror. He moved to the end of the room and pulled the curtain back to look out over the bloated river. The rains had been good this year, but here it had been too much. He covered the curtains and refused to let the memories of his lost home take his mind from the present.

Instead, he dropped his bag to the floor and began stripping out of his clothes. The pitcher was full, and he poured water into the basin. He used a washcloth to clean up and dressed in clean clothes. He’d deal with the rest of it later. He ran his fingers through his hair and redid the tie before he headed down. He felt presentable at least, with clean trousers and shirt, his favorite green vest, and his sash tied around his waist.

When he joined the others downstairs, the innkeeper motioned him towards a table in the corner. As much as he would have preferred to join one of the others to learn about their travels, he let them lead him away. Warm food beckoned and it wasn’t worth a fight for a little conversation. Not yet anyway. Maybe after his belly was full and his feet finally warmed.

Food was a generous portion of fish stew, bread, and ale. He ate quickly, keeping his head down, but listening to the sparse conversation in the tavern.

The table next to him held a traveler who seemed less interested in others than the quality of his ale. When the maid came around, he asked for more, threw a couple more coins on the table, and turned his eyes back to a journal. His voice was rough, but as the man coughed, Ezo thought it might be from a lack of use.

Ezo wouldn’t have given the man any heed if it weren’t for the journal. In the cities, something like that was a luxury, but it was common for elementalists to keep one. He continued to eat, but the man drew his attention.

Older than Ezo, but only by a few years. His brown hair curled about his shoulders. The clothes he wore were a grey so dark it was almost black, except for the red cloak he wore around his shoulders. The jacket underneath buttoned up the side like the uniform of the War-Sworn but wasn’t the right design or color. Jacob had hated the War-Sworn and warned Ezo off about them. Ezo could never imagine dedicating his magic to the art of war, but he also understood the sacrifice such elementalists went through to do so. Ezo didn’t hate them, but he pitied a man who could turn such a gift into a weapon.

He must have been doing a poor job of keeping his observation to himself because the man looked over at him and scowled. The traveler closed his journal and tucked it in a pouch under his cloak. He grabbed his mug and took the pitcher from the maid before he looked back at Ezo. His eyes were cold, but his face was handsome. Ezo thought if he smiled, he might even be called striking. He watched as the traveler looked him over. His eyes paused on Ezo’s left hand, until Ezo covered it with his right hand. The traveler dismissed him then and headed up the stairs.

Ezo turned his attention back to his food and was happy to tuck into the cheese and fruit Maggie set down for him. She gave him a small smile before she walked away. At least someone was warming up to him.

He turned his attention to his food and let the rest of the miserable day fade into the background.

###

Maggie refilled his ale when he finished with his meal and he was content as he was; a full belly, a warm fire nearby, and a bed to turn to when he was ready. If the rain let up, he’d head on in the morning. It was obvious from his reception at the inn that his sort of help wouldn’t be welcomed here.

A loud crash outside made him jump out of his seat.

“Thunder and lightning of all things,” Maggie complained as she covered her ears.

 Ezo ran to the door and out into the muddy streets. Lightning lit the sky, but it wasn’t thunder Maggie had heard and Ezo could see the wash of muck in the river above the town. A bell at the other end of town began to ring out, but it was barely audible over the rush of water and the crack of thunder that followed.

Someone slid past Ezo but grabbed his arm to stop himself. “Get to higher ground,” the man shouted over the rain. “The dam broke!”

Ezo pushed away from him and rushed towards the river. It was already swollen from the rain and lapped against the embankment. It was too late to evacuate the town. There had to be something else he could do. There was no place to divert the water, and even if there was, he didn’t have the strength to pull that off.

He closed his eyes and crouched down to touch the earth. Mud squelched between his fingers as he centered himself and pulled the mud from the raging waters to form a higher wall around the water’s edge. He pulled from the earth at his feet, digging deeper under the river to keep building a new wall between the town and the dam waters.

The wall raised higher, and he could no longer see the coming flood, but he could feel the power behind it. He shivered in the cold, clenched his fists deeper into the earth, and fought against the ache that began to creep up his spine.

He was drawing too much power from himself. He wouldn’t last much longer before it overcame him completely and he blacked out. He knew his limits, but he couldn’t stop.

People shouted behind him, but he pushed them out of his awareness. Earth moved in his mind, and he felt it in his body as the waters began to strike the walls he’d built.

“Bloody idiot! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

A warm hand pushed against his neck, and another slid beneath his shirt to touch his side. He was immediately filled with strength though he had been wavering a moment before. He didn’t know who it was, but he pressed into the connection with the other elementalist. The spirit that pushed into his consciousness was fight and fire, a will indomitable, with a grief so deep it could bury him. He was strong. Stronger than any elementalist Ezo had ever met, even if he could feel the fatigue pulling at the other man’s reserves already.

Ezo pushed away from that recognition and back towards the raging waters. He was in control of the flow of power, and he used the extra resources to push the earth even higher. He felt the water crash against it, felt the walls hold against the onslaught of sludge and water and debris from the areas swept away above. And then his strength give way to darkness, and strong arms pulled him close when he fell.

###

Ezo woke slowly, blinking gritty eyes to stare up at the rafters. He tried to get up, but the room spun, and he decided it was best to stay on his back for a bit. When he opened his eyes again, the traveler from earlier was above him. Green eyes regarded him, and his lips were drawn tight.

“Well, what do you know. You didn’t kill yourself after all.”

Ezo wanted to reply to that, but the man moved away, and he was too tired to look for him. He fell back to sleep and drifted in and out, sometimes finding the green-eyed man watching him. When he woke the next morning though, he was in his bed, warm, clean, and alone.

Someone had changed him into clean clothes and when he looked in the mirror, even his hair had been washed.

“I must have really been out of it,” he said to his reflection. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his boots before he threw on his coat and walked down the stairs.

The inn was bursting with people, and he nearly fell when the first patron slapped him on the back, raising his glass to him. The room cheered loudly, and he flinched, covering his eyes. He was recovered enough to be out of bed, but the backlash of controlling that much magic still lingered. Everything was overwhelming him.

He felt strong arms pull him away from the crowd and heard the hush that fell over them. He was pushed down onto a bench and a mug was placed in his hand.

“Don’t drink that yet,” the gruff voice said. He felt something tap against the mug and he knew what it was. When hands directed him to put the mug to his lips, he drank.

The ale didn’t hide the bitter taste of the powder that had been added, but it improved the flavor. When he drank it to the dregs, he felt calmer. More centered. He opened his eyes and found himself at the corner table.

“It was you,” Ezo said to the traveler who was assisting him. “You’re the elementalist.”

“You’re in better hands than mine now,” the man said. “You have more leria powder?”

“I do.”

“Then you’re not quite as dumb as I thought you were.”

“Hey!”

“Take care of yourself, Raven.”

Before Ezo could ask what he meant by that the innkeeper interrupted him.

“I’ll have some food out for you in just a minute,” she said, wringing her hands on a small bag she held. “Best of what I have, I promise you that.” She handed the bag to him, and he could feel the weight of coins. “We all chipped in. It isn’t much, but we’d have lost everything if you hadn’t come by.”

“I didn’t do it for the money,” he said.

“Take it,” the traveler said as he moved towards the door. “Too many people don’t pay for the service. Even an elementalist has to eat.” He left the inn before Ezo could respond.

Ezo started to get up, but the keeper was in his way, motioning him back down. “Don’t you worry. We gave him coin as well since he helped you. But we don’t want no War-Sworn here in Mason Creek.”

He wanted to follow, but he knew he was in no shape to travel just yet. Instead, he smiled at the keeper. “Perhaps I could take food in my room? I need to lie down again.”

She shooed everyone out of his way as he trudged back up the stairs, but he barely noticed. His mind was swirling. War-Sworn. An elementalist who had pledged their services to the art of war. The War-Sworn were Distria’s first and last line of defense against invasion. The nobles were even said to have them on paid retainer. Those who had seen battle though had been rumored to be exhausted beyond simple healing.

That explained the exhaustion he had found in the other man. And, maybe, the grief as well.

Ezo sat on the edge of the bed and tried not to think about it. But he could still feel the man’s presence in the back of his head. War-Sworn or not, he’d come to Ezo’s aid. He owed the man a debt and he would find him someday to repay it.

ChrisBannor

What do you think of this strange elementalist who showed up? And how crazy is Ezo to try to stop a flooding river? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments!