Legacy by Christopher Pastrana (best reads txt) 📕

                Like all men of his status, his birth name was no longer used. After reaching the rank of guardian he shed his common Duzee bonds and took up the mantle of Zephyrus the West Wind. The man wasn't much taller than the normal Duzee soldiers, but his uniform and discipline was leagues apart. He never spoke near the prisoners, he was an effective leader, and most importantly he was a shifter of rare level.

                His cart came to a stop near a small opening in the tree line, a small field was tucked carefully between two dense patches of forest. The heavy scent of cedar almost made him cringe, but it was better than the stench of carriage hounds. Moonlight broke through the clouds as the winds calmed to a breeze. Flowers that had been hidden sprang to life, drawn to the light of the moon. Dark reds and blues popped through the blanket of darkness and Reinhardt couldn't help but admit that this wouldn't be a bad place to camp for the night.

                With closer inspection of the trees he could see that one side of the field dropped sharply, plants clinging to the slope with strong roots. Nearby soldiers started a fire with left over wood as others began cutting down trees and gathering fallen sticks to replenish their supply. It was their nightly routine starting over. Reinhardt's food was brought to him in a coarse wooden bowl. He ate it casually while watching the fire spring to life, bringing even more of the local plants out of hiding.

                Bright yellow flowers crept out of a nearby bush, stretching vines reaching out, struggling to catch what light it could. A passing soldier was playing with some grass. Reinhardt didn't know why he was messing with it until he looked closer, noticing that the grass flattened to the ground before the soldiers could step on it. Every time the soldier lifted his foot the dark green vegetation would return to normal, only to flatten again when he tried to step on it once more. Reinhardt figured it was a defense against the heavy winds this high in the mountain passes.

         Figuring that it would be easier to stick him in the back of a horse drawn prison cell, they kept him locked inside the box for safe keeping. It was nice to not have to walk the distance but the roads they traveled hadn't been designed to travel in this fashion and resulted in a very uneven ride. Sleep hadn't come easy for him since they had started but he managed as well as he could.
         The setting sun forced the party to slow to a stop for the night. It would be impossible to safely travel the road so everyone set up camp and set to chores. An hour or so after everybody had finished eating one of the younger soldiers was tasked with getting Reinhardt a plate of whatever had been left over from the meal. His young temper was clear on his face, even in the darkness, and Reinhardt could tell that this particular task was beneath him or at least it was in his own mind.
         Taking the plate from the soldier he looked at it to see that it was mainly beans and some rice. Even though the mean was lacking any real substance but that didn't bother him. After that day in the forest his appetite had diminished to almost nothing. Thinking back on the prior month he realized that his need to sleep had fallen to only a few hours a day as well.
         Reinhardt still didn't understand what had happened but he figured it was supposed to be a gift of some kind. Though nothing about it felt like a gift. His heart felt cold, and everything was slowly starting to feel like a dream.
         Outside his cell the fire had begun to die down and everybody was starting to unroll large fur bags so they could sleep comfortably in the brisk mountain air. It must have been cold out because even the sentries brought their beds with them when they left the campsite. If Reinhardt knew anything it was that when guards were full, drunk, and warm it was a recipe for sleep. Tonight would be the perfect night for an escape attempt if he wanted to, but they were going in the direction he wanted to be going in so he figured he would tag along for the ride.
         Listening to the sounds of the night around him Reinhardt realized that it was much more quite then it should have been. All of the crickets were still chirping, and he could still here the regular animals that were running around, but something was different. In the darkness around him men started to emerge from the darkness of the forest. None of their steps made any sound and it wasn't until someone drew a sword that anybody would have noticed them.
         A scream in the distance rang out in the night and the camp awoke. It didn't take more then moments for the sleepy soldiers to notice the men who had snuck dangerously close to them, but it was already their advantage. Taking up the attack, the cloaked men moved in for the kill, swords darting violently in the fire light. The momentum was clearly in the favor of the attackers but in short time it became clear that the trained soldiers were gaining their ground back and starting to hold the enemy back.
         Reinhardt felt a strong shifting in the night air as one of the cloaked men was torn to pieces by an invisible force. The sight startled his comrades who started to fall back towards the treeline. The Duzee elementalist appeared with his sword drawn from a nearby shadow. Having dispatched the attackers who had snuck up on his men, he had made his way back to the primary fight and that would tip the scales of the battle in their favor. Even with the sneak attack it would be impossible for a group this inexperienced to take on an elementalist of his power.
Another blast of wind was directed towards the fleeing men but it was thrown to the side by a large slab of rock that rose up from the ground behind them. It surprised the man enough to give them all time to flee. Regrouping the camp went out in teams to look for signs of their attackers.
         A lone man emerged from the trees and everybody stopped to stare at him. Even from where he was Reinhardt knew it was the bartender who had tried protecting him in the pub. As he walked into the light of the campfire Reinhardt could see a long bow staff in his right hand, tucked close to his body. His face was emotionless and his movements direct, there was no doubting his intent.
         The elementalist moved forward and, without speaking, drew as much wind as he could around himself. Air around the man twisted and turned with as much intensity as a tornado and when he couldn't pull any more from the area it turned on the bartender.
         One hand reached up and grabbed the clasp of his cloak and ripped it off, letting it fall free of his body. The long stave was no free to move as it wanted as it twisted and spun around his body. Smaller patches of wind were turned away without effort by the spinning stave. Reinhardt could feel a few almost harden into a blade of wind capable of slicing into a person. This was how he had been able to cut the other man to pieces. An attack like this wouldn't be able to be pushed aside like the others had.
         Almost as if he could feel the strike coming for himself he slammed his stave into the ground and threw himself into the air over the blast. Almost out of shock the Duzee elementalist hesitated and lost control of his shift for a moment. It was all the bartender needed to take advantage of the fight.
         Still spinning from dodging the blade of wind, the stave whipped around and slammed into the ground, but this time the giant rock slab they had been standing on started to splinter and crumble. The sight broke the already weakening resolve of the Duzee soldiers and they began to flee.
         "He's from Ental!" Reinhardt heard one of them yell as he tried to escape. Now understanding what had happened in the moments before the fight, Reinhardt could only smile. He had the pleasure of watching a Earth Elementalist and a Wind elementalist fight, and over him.

    "Before we begin this I would like to know your name?" It surprised Reinhardt to hear the Duzee soldier ask for his opponent’s name. Before the war it was considered honorable to give your name and know the name of an enemy elementalist, if for nothing more than to make a note of his rank and title. Soon after the war had started it often became more of a nuisance and it didn't take long before it was considered old fashioned. Asking someone their name would often be met with insults and laughter.
         "My name is Briccio Donovan. I'm a simple pub owner and enthusiast of some particularly strong brews. I hold no position and hold no allegiances. To be honest I have never considered myself much of a shifter either." His accent was much less defined now and Reinhardt was curious if the accent was real or if this was how he spoke. Figuring that it didn't matter all that much he just continued to watch the events unfold in front of him.
         "Well Briccio, I am Sherwyn Zephyrus."
         "Zephyrus? You mean the west wind?" Sometimes being a farmer could hurt in moments like this. Apparently that name means something but he had been so secluded in his years that he knew little about the world outside of Wanve.
         "Yes that is the name I was given upon accepting my position under Master Astraeus. I was on my way to meet with my brothers when you raided my camp, and since I am probably going to be behind schedule now I apologize for having to hurry this fight along." Gathering more wind to his side Sherwyn was clearly ready to finish the fight and move on.
         "To be honest I wasn't expecting to