Darby’s Creek was a few days northeast of the castle, and the people were more than happy to welcome an elementalist. Ezo had a steady stream of employment. He’d replenished his coin, which had steadily been used up for supplies at Riverkeep. There was good company, which he had been sorely missing. A large mill sat on the river that ran along the edge of town, and Ezo had spent the last two days clearing muck and debris from the area around the wheel to increase its efficiency. The mayor of the village said it hadn’t run that well in years, and he was more than happy to keep Ezo in town as long as he wanted.

While all those things were nice, it wasn’t why Ezo stayed. A steady stream of travelers came through Darby’s Creek, and every night, Ezo joined the villagers at the pub and listened to stories of the world around them, always on the lookout for rumors about Kammon and news of the Players. He might have parted ways with Alvrey, but he knew he’d find them again in the future. The occasional comment kept him informed of where they were and how they were doing.

It didn’t look like Eques Lestan sent men for them after all. At least he and Kammon had done that right.

The night was heavy with clouds, and the men in the room were well into their cups when a young traveler lifted his glass in toast to Ezo. “To elementalists!” he called out. Ezo laughed and raised his mug.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“To our kind friend Ezo,” the man continued before Ezo could take his drink. “And to the bastard we met on the road. Nowhere near as nice as Ezo, but he did the job well enough, no matter how sick he was.”

The bar downed their drinks, but Ezo got up and approached the man. “You saw another elementalist on the road?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Where did you find him? Why was he sick?”

“We were traveling up by the Three-Eyed Cliffs when he found us. Said he’d heard bandits heading up that way. He rode with us for a few days. When they came for us, he stopped ‘em. Shoulda seen it. They come at us with swords, and he just battered them around with the wind like it was nothing. And then, I’ve never seen the likes, but one of them charged forward from behind. The elementalist circled him in flames and left him there. Said it was a fitting trial for what he’d done along the way.”

“Did he get injured?”

“No, but he collapsed after that. We took him to the next village. He said he’d traveled further west than he wanted to be. Grumpy, but the kids riding with us loved him. Even on his back, he kept doing little bits of magic to entertain them.”

“What was his name?”

The guy shook his head. “Wouldn’t give it. Said he didn’t need fame or accolades. He just wanted to be alone.”

“Where did you say you left him?”

“Tam’s Flats. They got healing springs up there, they say. He was in good hands there.”

Alvrey told him of the flats once, a place to rest and be healed. A place where even one of the War-Sworn might find a brief respite.

“This elementalist. Did he wear a red cloak?”

“He did!”

Ezo gave him a smile, but his mind raced. It was too late to start tonight, but unless it rained heavily tomorrow, he had a new direction to head. Maybe he was getting closer to his quarry than he thought.