Vagabonding.1 [COMPLETE]

19. Consequence

We arrived at the final camp site for the day. I had already shifted back to my old self when I noticed Surge in the back starting to look ill.

"Come on, everyone! Set up camp for the night, you know your roles!" Rotem shouted as he got out of the car.

I adjusted myself to look at Surge again, he was covered in sweat and looking ill, his arms hugging onto himself tightly before he noticed I was looking at him.

"Are you okay?" I asked sympathetically, "you look like crud."

"Would it make you happy for once if I said 'yes' to that question?" Surge replied weakly as he began to shove me out of the car. "But the answer is sadly still no. Don't worry about me, I just want some alone time, if you don't mind."

"I'll leave you to it, then," I commented as I nodded and turned to where I was supposed to be in the first place over by the new campfire. Along the way, I managed to pick up some scraps for the fire from the ground.

I spotted Rotem working quietly by himself as held onto a small bundle of wood and placed it on the ground in a neat pile. Waving his hand over it, the pile began to magically stand and stack gently to the center before a soft snap of fire joined along.

When Rotem noticed me watching in awe, he waved me over, "Ah, Nolan! Just the person I was needing, I'll need you to place the kindling into the fireplace."

"Surge is feeling sick," I said as I placed the scraps down on the ground as instructed.

"So?" Rotem replied.

"So... don't you guys know how to heal or do spells for healing? You guys did that back at the motel, remember?" I asked.

"Look, I didn't want to have to tell you this soon, but I might as well," Rotem pulled out a cigarette and snapped his cigarette with his finger until it lit up. He took a small puff and exhaled stiffly, "You're taking away a little of his life every time you do that, you know. He's not sick, he's getting pushed closer to death."

"Wait, the shape shifting can kill people?" I was stunned, I never thought my actions would have that much of an impact.

"Of course it can, it's one of the many reasons why your kind isn't well liked," Rotem replied before lightly shrugging. "Well, besides the whole identity theft issue."

"Oh," I responded in a melancholy tone before speaking with a slow tone, my words measured heavily on my tongue, "I'm killing anyone slowly anytime I turn into them?"

"On the plus side, it lengthens your life supposedly," Rotem shrugged. "That's something you can't quote me on though. But I hear it does wonders for wrinkles..."

"Does he know?" I asked, my head looking back to where Surge once was. He trying his best to set up the tents but was obviously tired despite his tenacity. He was cursing to himself when I observed that he was going back to the car to rest.

Rotem let out a chuckle, "Trust me, if he knew about any of that, he wouldn't have let you do what you did. He hates shape shifters, he can't stand them, the poor kid is just brainwashed to hate them just because the government harps about how bad they are."

"But aren't they?" I asked.

"I don't know, are you bad?" Rotem asked as he tilted his head at towards me. "I'd say you're not half-bad—but then again, what do I know? Stop worrying about it, what's done is done. Your actions can never be reversed, but you can always move forward, that's the way life is. Just remember that your powers aren't a toy, it's a weapon. Always remember that."