[ WP ] `` Be careful with the winds , Dear . They belong to me too . '' spoke the Elementalist .

The Witch had plagued Jom ’ s lands for centuries. She was a mean-spirited tyrant, petty in her ways. She could wield fireballs at will, and she lorded that power over the people of this land. Jom had seen her fling fire indiscriminately at a nearby village, killing or maiming scores for no apparent reason. 
 
 Worse yet, she demanded a tithe of their harvest. A few had thought to resist at first, but she had made examples of them, very publicly. The masses had cowed very quickly after that. What choice did they have? They had neither the strength nor the wits to do anything about it. 
 
 For her part, the Witch had delighted. That was the part that Jom always remembered; the look of sheer glee on the Witch ’ s face as she tormented others. Whatever heart beat in her chest, it was black as sin. 
 
 So, Jom plotted. He had a bit of size to him, and he had a bit of brains in his head. But more importantly, he had a will that would not yield. Come what may, he would not bow to this sorceress. He would defeat her, or die trying. 
 
 Slowly, carefully, Jom made his preparations. He stole away in the dead of night to the sawmill, to lay his snare. He carried tools, at first, so that he could hide his intentions. Even if she caught him out at night, what harm was there in carrying tools? It was still a dangerous game, but he would have a measure of deniability if she caught him with tools. Slowly, carefully, he shaped the sawmill into a trap. All that was left was to draw her out. 
 
 He slept long and deep that night, preparing himself for what was to come. He loathed sleeping in, but he would need every bit of strength for the next day ’ s trials. He prayed the fates would smile on him. 
 
 The next day, he put his plan in motion as soon as he stepped outside. 
 
 “ Why, Hur, did you hear? They say a strange glowing egg appeared in the saw mill, ” he lied. 
 
 “ No, Jom, news to me. That ’ d be an oddity. Any idea what it is? ” poor Hur asked. 
 
 “ No one knows. I heard one of the ladies in town say it was a dragon egg, ” Jom continued the tale. “ Don ’ t tell anyone though, we don ’ t want anyone to get hurt if they get too close. ” 
 
 Within the hour, everyone in town was whispering about the dragon egg. Jom kept a careful eye on the path to the sawmill, but no one dared try their luck. So far, so good. 
 
 “ The Witch comes! The Witch comes this way! ” the alarm rang out. 
 
 Everyone else ran indoors, hoping to stay away from the wicked Witch. Jom, on the other hand, ran straight to the sawmill. The sun was still high in the sky, a good omen. He kept a good distance from the mill itself, not wanting to tip his hand. 
 
 “ Out of the way! That ’ s mine! ” the Witch called out. 
 
 Jom didn ’ t have to fake the worry etched on his face. He was out here all alone if anything went wrong. He watched in trepidation as the Witch walked towards the door. This was it: the moment of no return. 
 
 With a slow, but steady pace, he closed the distance between himself and the Witch. She was only a few paces ahead of him when she reached the door. With a greedy flourish, she threw open the door. 
 
 She was immediately blinded by a well-placed mirror. Jom had carefully measured the reflection of the sunlight through the roof, even going so far as to cut a hole in the ceiling. He ’ d walked into that door countless times, at different hours, just to make sure that this crucial part of his plan would go off without a hitch. The measurements had been sound, as the reflected sunlight caused the Witch a moment of blindness and confusion. 
 
 Jom seized his opportunity to throw his shoulder into the Witch, pushing both of them through the door and into the sawmill. The Witch tumbled forward as Jom took a quick hop to the side. With a flick of the wrist, Jom ’ s knife cut a rope holding back stones over the door. The Witch quickly realized the danger, and she dove forward to the center of the sawmill. 
 
 “ You DARE? ” she screamed out indignantly. 
 
 “ I dare, Witch. Your evil ends today. ” 
 
 “ Watch your tongue, fool. I can burn you to a crisp where you stand. ” 
 
 “ Not without starting a fire. I ’ ve coated the walls and floor with kerosene. The door is blocked, so you ’ ll be caught in here, too. The smoke and heat will kill you along with me. ” 
 
 “ Clever. Maybe you ’ re not as big a fool as I thought. ” 
 
 “ I have one more trick, Witch, ” Jom warned as he drew his sword. Kicking away a beam, the wall collapsed, and the water powering the mill came rushing in. Jom and the Witch were both instantly drenched. Between the shock of the water and the water itself, the Witch ’ s flames were neutralized for the moment. Jom, on the other hand, had the element of surprise on his side, and a sword. He leaped forward, swinging the sword with all his might. 
 
 “ DIE! ” he roared. All his pent-up rage, his frustration, and his tears came rushing out in a single release of emotion. 
 
 But his sword never found its mark. The Witch made a gesture with her hands, and the water itself came to life. A stream of water parried Jom ’ s sword with a violent blow, knocking the blade from his hand. 
 
 “ Wa … water?? You can … water? ” Jom stammered, weakly. 
 
 “ The word is Elementalist, ” she bragged. 
 
 With a second motion of her hands, the water came crashing into Jom, knocking the wind out of him. Defeated, he could only watch as she gloated. All his careful planning had been for naught. How could he possibly defeat *this*? It had been hard enough to engineer a scenario where her fire was useless, but how could he possibly strip her of fire and water? There was water everywhere. Despair set in for Jom, as he realized just how impossible his task truly was. 
 
 “ Oh, and be careful with the winds, Dear. They belong to me, too. ”
