Ezo woke with an itch in the back of his mind. He knew that brand of itch. Curiosity. He bit his tongue and broke camp, keeping the thoughts to himself. He wasn’t sure how well it worked though. Whenever Kammon turned to look at him, Ezo was staring back. The other man scowled every time it happened.

Kammon might be War-Sworn but he was a brilliant elementalist. All the stories agreed on that fact, whether they painted him as a warrior for the people or a traitor to the capital. Beyond the stories, Ezo witnessed him using water and fire elements and there had been no other elementalist he’d met that could. Ezo was as impressed with his abilities as he was curious about his past. How had a man that was so gifted turn to blood-craft?

It ate at his thoughts as they continued their journey. It was mid-morning and they’d had no sign of the players yet. Kammon has been taciturn and answered Ezo’s inquisitiveness with grunts and one-word answers. The few times he spoke, it had been sarcastic and morose.

Ezo's thoughts turned to the months he’d been traveling and the people he’d met. His Uncle Jacob had taught him that it was his duty to do good, but he’d kept Ezo secluded from the world of elementalists intentionally. Since he’d gone into the world though, he realized he might not have understood his uncle as well as he thought.

Ezo was gifted in the elements for more than one reason. An incident in his childhood had done more than shape his magic. It had shaped his future with a gift his uncle had believed could change the world. Ezo had no hope of living up to that expectation, but he would do the most good he could.

“You can use air, yes?”

Ezo was pulled out of his thoughts and stopped walking as he saw Kammon stooped to the forest ground, fingers resting on the dirt path.

“What is it?”

“I can feel something, but I can’t recognize a shape. It could be a trap. Can you sense anything here?”

Ezo crouched down beside Kammon and closed his eyes. He wanted to ask Kammon why he didn’t, if he saw the flow of elements differently, but now wasn’t the time. Instead, he concentrated on the feel of the light breeze against his skin.

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The other elements were just at the edge of his senses, but he pushed them to the side of his consciousness. He always talked of pulling the elements towards him when he explained it to people, but that wasn’t a true depiction of what happened. When Ezo called the elements, it was more an opening of his inner self and the elements rushed to fill the void within his spirit.

It was intoxicating and dangerous. The pull of magic was strong and too many elementalists had exhausted themselves by drawing on too much magic. Like the wick on a candle, they could only burn so long and so bright.

Ezo felt the rustle of the wind at his fingertips and as he pushed it out, he could sense what Kammon had. The feeling of pressure against his mind where there was nothing to see. There was no form but as Ezo wrapped air around the area, his magic bumped against the edges of something.

“Found it,” he said as he opened his eyes. There was still nothing to see, except the cold white light of the air element that was visible to him. When he looked at Kammon, he could see the other man watching as well.

“You can see it?”

Kammon nodded as he moved closer. “A simple warning, triggered by anyone walking this way.”

“We could set it off and follow it back to its source?” Ezo suggested.

“Are you willing to chance it? What if the raiders are more than we can handle?”

Ezo looked at the other man. “You’re War-Sworn. Is there such thing as an enemy you can’t fight?”

Kammon glared at him. “I am Disavowed, no longer one of the War-Sworn, but even I’m smart enough not to fight a battle without knowing my enemy first. If we trigger this, we bring down their trap.”

“My friends could already be caught by them. I’m willing to risk it.”

Kammon continued to stare at him. Ezo balled his fingers into a fist and glared back. “I can hold my own in a fight.”

“There is a difference between evoking the elements and using them to kill. Are you prepared to fight against whatever they throw at us? To defend at any cost? Because these raiders are looting and killing the people on these roads. They won’t back down. Once we trip their warning, they’ll come for us.”

Ezo had always been a fighter. He stood up for what he believed even when it meant a beating. He’d grown stronger since those days. Faster. Was he willing to kill though?

He thought of Jaroh and the players. Of Alvrey. Of Mathis and his little brother Tamis. Of all the unknown villagers who used these paths. He thought of a wagon bed ripped in half and a broken wagon wheel on the side of the road.

This has to stop.

“I’ll do whatever I have to. If they don’t back down, I won’t either.”