Elements of Change

Burning Bridges

The food was amazing. If nothing else, Eques Lestan knew how to feed his audience. Ezo had no taste for fine wine. He couldn't tell by drinking if it was aged properly or what notes he was supposed to taste - he was sure they weren't talking music but that's all he understood - but the wine was well paired with the food courses that were brought before them and it was all delicious. Musicians played throughout the meal and a troupe came in to perform a short play about mistaken identities and love. Ezo caught Alvrey's gaze during the play and he rolled his eyes, sharing his opinion that Jaroh's players were far superior. Alvrey's answering smile said she agreed.

After that people began to mingle. And by mingle, he meant they seemed to fall upon him like a mudslide.

"You are, of course, the elementalist that Eques Lestan was speaking of this morning," a man said as he stood in front of Ezo's table.

Ezo had stayed seated as much as possible because they seemed to stream to him even worse when he tried to move around. As much as the earlier part of the evening had been enjoyable, as soon as the players had gone Ezo quickly grew tired of the same trite conversations.

"There are two of us here," Ezo said as he looked over at Kammon who was, once again, ignoring anyone that approached by filling his wine glass. "I'm not sure how you'd know which of us he was speaking of?"

"The Calamity is well known in Pramas," the man said without looking at Kammon.

Ezo was done with this. Next would be some insinuation that the eques was looking for men of good standing and had given Ezo's description to them so they would know him at first glance.

Then they would work the conversation around and make innuendos about people who leave before the job is done, trying to get a rise out of Kammon. It would fail miserably, but Ezo had traveled with him enough to see the minute tightening of the mouth and the way his fingers clenched just a tad harder. The only sign that these men's words were even heard.

Finally, there would be a comment about the sort of life a man like him, untethered, could make in the right place.

"Kammon should be known," Ezo said, standing up and bracing a hand on Kammon's chair. "The stories I've heard, and the things I've seen are... memorable."

He turned to walk away and find Alvrey - they might leave Kammon alone if Ezo wasn't standing next to him - when he realized he was face to face with Eques Lestan. The man himself had come to meet Ezo.

"Elementalist." The man had a hyena's smile.

"Eques Lestan," he said, remembering to bow properly.

He saw Kammon stand and turn to face the eques with him, but the man ignored him, even when he gave the requisite bow. "Elementalist, let us walk for a moment."

Ezo wanted to say no, but Kammon had reminded him often enough that the night belonged to the eques and they had agreed to dinner so that Ezo could hear him out. He had just never realized how awful it would be to live in a city like this. He liked the idea of setting down roots at some point, but a place like this would stifle him.

He wanted to follow Kammon's example in this - enjoy the food and wine and let everything else fade away - but their words grated. Even more so because Kammon listened to every comment and kept silent. The eques walked away from the tables and out onto a veranda. His entourage followed, as did Kammon.

The veranda was lit by magic and Ezo wanted to roll his eyes at the waste, but it was to be expected. It had been the same inside. Instead of candles, he could feel elementalists around the room keeping the small fires lit. It was a show of power and opulence. Would that be the sort of work he would ask of Ezo? To keep pathways lit when wax and a few moments to set the flame were all that was needed? To play trophy to a man's greed and arrogance? What did these people do all day long? Were they allowed to explore their own works, or did the eques demand all of their attention?